A Game with Souls as Stakes

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Accompanied by fierce cannon fire, a small fishing village on the coast was instantly transformed into a sea of flames.

The wooden houses were utterly incapable of withstanding the outrageous range and power of naval guns, not to mention the latest high-explosive shells designed and manufactured by Gnome engineers.

In just a few minutes, the entire village had been swallowed by towering flames. Some who were burned beyond endurance, their bodies still ablaze, leaped directly off slopes over ten meters high.

The lucky ones might land in the sea and extinguish the flames on their bodies, but what awaited them would be infections from severe burns over large areas of skin, high fevers, and a series of life-threatening complications.

Unless they received Shaman healing, they were unlikely to survive.

Even if they happened to survive, whatever little life they had left would be spent in endless pain and hatred.

The unlucky ones crashed heavily onto beaches or reefs. At best, they were left bloody-faced with shattered bones and torn tendons; at worst, they died on the spot.

Among them were no shortage of bodies that appeared to belong to women and children.

It could be said that apart from the handful of Orcs who had reacted quickly enough to rush out of their homes, nearly all the rest had perished beneath that fierce bombardment.

When the survivors witnessed the miserable deaths of their relatives, friends, and kin with their own eyes, their blood surged. Like madmen, they rushed out from their hiding places, stood on high ground, raised their axes and spears, and let out beastlike roars of fury.

They seemed to want to force the humans commanding the warships to come ashore and fight them to the death.

But unfortunately, these Orcs had clearly forgotten