"Zzzzz~" The sound of igniters lighting powder fuses rang out from the Dwarf Array almost at the exact same time.
"That's the mighty Grimnir, aaahhh! He slew a dragon all by himself~!"
"That's the loving Valaya, aaahhh! She cut a whole cloak all by herself!"
The Dwarfs burst into song, and then a sky-darkening storm of Hand Grenades and blasting caps drowned the Desolate Grave Guard Legion. One explosion after another and billowing smoke completely shattered the offensive of the Undead right wing, the Iron Dragon Cannons roared to life, and the Fire Dragons they spat out devoured the onrushing Undead tide.
The fiercest of all was Belgar himself. He stood upon a rune stone of his Ancestors that he had retaken from Eight Peaks Mountain, loudly chanting the former glory of the Angland Clan. Under the protection of the Ancestral Soul, he had practically become an avatar of vengeance. A Blood Knight was killed on the spot when he smashed it with the Hammer of Angland.
