At the same time, the voices of the Golem Manipulators sounded through amplifiers.
The goblin warriors, coordinating and following around the golems, also shouted together.
[The furnace is our holy hall, the wrench is the scepter of prayer!]
[Black oil boils in the veins, gears sing in the chest!]
[Crush those fleshy bodies!]
[When the rust of copper stains the earth red, civilization truly begins to grow!]
The goblins' voices were unpleasant, sharp, harsh, noisy, and far from synchronized. Some were as grating as nails on glass, others were as hoarse as a grindstone on scrap iron. Yet, on the battlefield, they eerily interwove into waves, accompanying the heavy steps of the Alchemy Golems and the roar of engines, gradually merging into an overwhelming sense of pressure.
[Gold coins! Gold coins! Paving the road to the heavens!]
[Dismantle everything! Dismantle everything! Even the gods' ribs have a price tag!]
