Goblin intelligence agents had begun exploring the Wetlands and the neighboring Highlands long ago, searching for the Dragonmaw Clan's Red Dragon breeding base.
However, both the Wetlands and the Highlands had extremely complicated terrain and dense vegetation.
Finding the Red Dragon breeding base was a true test of the agents' abilities.
The Dragonmaw Clan had probably established its base in Grim Batol, the abandoned capital of the Wildhammer Dwarves, just as it had in the game.
But reaching Grim Batol was a major problem!
Even after spotting Red Dragons flying down from the Highlands, the agents still struggled to approach the area.
The harsh terrain, the Orcs patrolling along the way, and the Red Dragons occasionally flying overhead all slowed their exploration.
As time passed, the Dragonmaw Clan had more and more Red Dragons at its disposal.
At first, twelve Red Dragons had been training in the Wetlands.
Within a few days, another six joined them, bringing the total to a very auspicious number.
These rapidly raised Red Dragons were unquestionably the most absurdly powerful troops imaginable!
They cost almost nothing to raise, yet their combat strength could overwhelm most mortal combat units.
Even powerful cannons might not be able to kill them reliably.
After all, they were not fighter planes or tanks. A shell punching through them would not set off a catastrophic secondary explosion.
Dragonkind possessed tremendous vitality.
They might well be as hard to kill as those seemingly indestructible survivors in the movies.
Faced with the steadily increasing number of Red Dragons, Herad felt immense pressure too.
Fortunately, the Orcs were not very patient.
Once the number of Red Dragons reached twenty-four, Orgrim felt that his forces were ready again.
He eagerly led his army across the sea once more, delivering a prebattle declaration brimming with confidence.
"This time, our fleet will land without fail! We will claim the glory that belongs to the Horde!"
The other Orcs had no doubts either.
With twenty-four Red Dragons in their ranks, how could they possibly lose this time?
Faced with such a formidable lineup in the Orcs Fleet, the Allied Forces no longer dared to send warships carrying Gryphon Riders out to attack.
If things went wrong, there would be nowhere to run at sea.
A single warship burned by a Red Dragon would cost two or three hundred lives.
The flagship carried more than a thousand people!
Whether it was the flagship or an ordinary warship, being set ablaze by a Red Dragon would mean being reduced to ashes.
The fleet could not possibly sortie without securing the skies.
The Tank Landing Ships and ironclads equipped with advanced cannons, however, were confident they could take on the Orcs Fleet's Red Dragons.
But they were still on their way south and would probably arrive only in time for the tail end of the battle at Southshore.
To improve his odds against the Red Dragons, Herad drew inspiration from a bizarre antitank weapon developed by the Japanese military late in World War II and manufactured a batch of simple Dragon-Slaying Weapons.
These Dragon-Slaying Weapons were Piercing Explosive Lances, nicknamed the Emperor's Happy Stick.
The Piercing Explosive Lance had a very simple design.
A conical explosive charge was mounted on the end of a long pole, with spikes at the very tip to trigger the explosion.
The user thrust the pole at an enemy, and the spikes detonated the charge, producing a terrifying jet of metal.
This bizarre antitank weapon was bound to be more effective than the Gryphon Riders' Magic Hammers!
Holding a Piercing Explosive Lance, Falstad charged at a thick steel target. The shaped charge released a jet of metal that easily burned straight through it.
Looking at the thick steel target, melted and split by the blast, Falstad was very satisfied with the weapon's power.
"Oh, this thing really packs a punch! Those Red Dragons are in for some pain!"
The power demonstrated by this antitank weapon tempted every soldier in the Allied Forces.
However, since they had been hastily manufactured, there were not many left after the Gryphon Riders had been equipped.
The esteemed Knights snapped up every remaining antitank weapon, which closely resembled a cavalry lance.
Next came a hard-fought battle against the Orcs at Southshore!
Southshore had an excellent harbor comparable to those of major cities.
Thanks to its thriving maritime trade, its resident population exceeded thirty thousand, far beyond what one would expect of a town.
Calling it a port city would not have been an exaggeration.
As the great battle approached, most of its residents had already left.
Those who remained had chosen early on to join the Allied Forces and defend their homeland.
The buildings in town had been reinforced and turned into sturdy fortifications.
Musketeers stationed inside these defenses could make full use of their superior firepower.
To land at Southshore, the Orcs Fleet would have to fight a brutal street battle.
But Orgrim was different from other Orcs.
He was a commander skilled at weighing the advantages of both sides.
Under Orgrim's careful planning, the Orcs Fleet quietly approached the sleeping town of Southshore under cover of the morning fog.
The splashing of the oars blended perfectly with the sound of the waves, making the two almost impossible to distinguish.
When the enemy could neither see nor hear them coming, a surprise attack was easy to pull off.
Fortunately, the Allied Forces had professional intelligence support, so the Orcs Fleet had no chance of catching them by surprise.
Knowing that the Orcs Fleet would arrive that day, the soldiers had begun preparing before dawn.
Hearing faint, unusual sounds from the morning fog, the High Elf Rangers near the harbor immediately set up their large-caliber sniper rifles and pulled their triggers in the direction of the noise.
This standard round of probing fire soon produced results.
They were only firing toward the general area, so their shots had no real accuracy.
But with such large ships sitting there, some bullets were bound to strike their hulls.
Hearing the unmistakable sound of bullets striking wooden planks, the High Elf Rangers hurried to sound the alarm bell.
"Ships are coming! They must be Orcs!"
At the sound of the alarm, the Gryphon Riders took to the air.
The morning fog was thick, making it impossible to see anything in the distance.
But above a certain altitude, the air was clear.
When they burst through the morning fog blanketing the ground, they discovered that the Red Dragons were already circling overhead.
Fortunately, the ground below was still hidden from view.
Otherwise, those creatures would have attacked long ago!
Seeing the Gryphon Riders rise from below, the Orc handlers sent the Red Dragons surging fiercely toward them.
The Gryphon Riders had extensive experience in aerial combat.
Before the Red Dragons could close in, they swiftly pulled away, then surrounded the dragons from a distance.
The Red Dragons' breath reached less than a hundred meters.
The Orc handlers' arrows and throwing spears were even less of a threat.
Taking advantage of their superior range, the Gryphon Riders hurled Magic Hammers at the Red Dragons again and again.
Although they could not inflict meaningful damage on the dragons, their suppressive effect was considerable.
Any gap in the Red Dragons' formation would put the Orc handlers' lives in danger.
Guided by Wind Spells, the Magic Hammers had an accuracy rate approaching one hundred percent.
Whenever an Orc handler dared to show his head, a Magic Hammer would smash it open.
Attacking with everything they had, the Gryphon Riders unleashed an extraordinarily powerful offensive.
Had their opponents been anything other than Red Dragons, a single volley would have ended the battle!
Magic immunity and protective dragon scales.
These two traits left the Gryphon Riders, who specialized in magical attacks, with no way to hurt the Red Dragons.
Against creatures with such seemingly invincible defenses, the Gryphon Riders' only effective option was their Piercing Explosive Lances.
Under covering fire from their comrades, several Gryphon Riders swiftly closed in on the defensively positioned Red Dragons.
Seeing enemies approach, the Orc handlers ordered the outermost Red Dragons to breathe dragonfire and drive them away.
The attacking Gryphon Riders nimbly dodged the dragonfire rushing toward them and thrust their Piercing Explosive Lances into the Red Dragons.
The explosions and dazzling flashes were accompanied by the Red Dragons' furious roars.
The jets of metal, hot enough to melt steel, had indeed burned through those supposedly invincible dragon scales!
The Gryphon Riders were not at all surprised by this result.
Dragon scales were highly resistant to magical flames.
But ordinary fire at such extreme temperatures was beyond what those scales could withstand.
Falstad's earlier assessment had been accurate.
The Red Dragons really were in for some pain!
A bizarre weapon like the Emperor's Happy Stick would send them into such bliss they would wish they were dead!
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