Apocalypse Forecast-Chapter 648 - 539 Trap_1
The centaur leader glimpsed the attack from the Undead Army. He snorted coldly and waved his hand; all his subordinates instantly abandoned their arrows and drew their swords. Far from retreating, they rapidly converged, iron hooves thundering, and charged towards the Undead Army.
Rivals always look forward to each other’s downfall.
Both were notorious Hell Swarms from the Abyss, both adept at cavalry warfare. The enmity between the Centaurs and the Snake-men could fill a library. Was there any need for the formality of exchanging names before a fight?
Just get it done!
These Snake-men, who usually just sat on their kinsmen taking potshots, had clearly lost their minds! Light cavalry charging heavily armored cavalry? If they’re looking for death, we’ll grant it to them!
"AHHHHH——————"
Amidst the Centaurs’ roaring battle cries, the earth of the fire-strewn field trembled once more. The crimson Centaurs converged and rallied, launching a countercharge against the Undead Army.
In an instant, three hundred paces!
Thanks to the exceptional vision of the Abyss Heterogeneous, the Centaur Chief could almost see the gaps in the scales on the elder’s aged face. Usually, at this distance, the enemy would swiftly turn and maneuver, attempting to feign a retreat or encircle them. But this time, the enemy’s speed showed no sign of slowing.
In fact, it was increasing!
Two hundred paces! One hundred and fifty paces!
At the Chief’s command, the front-rank Centaurs uniformly lowered their long spears, sinister smiles flickering in their eyes beneath their iron helmets.
Speed up!
One hundred paces! They were unavoidable now!
Across this dangerously short distance, the foremost elder suddenly threw back his head and bellowed. Then, he reached into his pouch. Along with everyone else, in perfect unison, he drew a flintlock pistol—still bearing the emblem of the Ivory Tower—and aimed it forward.
The Centaur Chief’s pupils instinctively dilated in stunned disbelief. Damn it, what in the hell is that thing?
Fifty paces! At this distance, escape was impossible.
A fierce smile flashed across the Snake Face as the trigger was pulled. Chief, times have changed.
With a deafening BOOM, flashes of white erupted from the crudely made firearms. The explosions, fueled by unstable Alchemy Explosives, were erratic; some guns even burst in the users’ hands. But most of the flintlocks fulfilled their purpose before disintegrating, spewing deadly shot.
Instantly, the Centaurs’ front line recoiled. Amidst the roaring blasts, countless warriors stumbled, their charge faltering. The formation descended into disarray.
At the hoarse command of Flag Officer Cholulu, all the Snake-men instantly abandoned their guns and raised their horse knives.
Steel met steel.
After a single clash, the Centaur Chief’s head tumbled from his shoulders. Without a backward glance, the elder pressed onward. The Snake-men’s charging formation split to either side, exploiting the momentary gap to inflict maximum carnage. Then, they reconverged amidst the flames, reformed their ranks, and launched a fresh assault on the bewildered Centaurs!
"Exterminate these Hybrids!" the elder roared, raising his horse knife.
More than eighty Undead Army Knights followed closely, once again pouncing on the disordered Centaurs.
However, the outcome had been sealed the moment the flintlocks fired.
With the Ivory Tower’s technological prowess and Huai Shi’s mass-produced, albeit crude, metallic explosives, recreating flintlock pistols in Hell through Alchemy was a simple matter. In truth, if that were all, it would be insignificant. In terms of raw killing power at a greater distance, metallic bullets couldn’t compare to a single volley of the Centaurs’ heavy arrows. Firearms truly effective in Hell were exceedingly rare. Considering the absurdly resilient physiques common to Hell’s denizens, a mere bullet hole meant little. Even riddling a Gargoyle with a Thompson machine gun would be largely useless. There were plenty of species born with natural bulletproof armor.
Ultimately, the weapon’s lethality wasn’t in its design, but in the shock it inflicted on an unsuspecting enemy and the unnerving sense of the unknown that came with the pull of a trigger.
These damn mongrels even have guns! What if they start throwing grenades next?
The deafening explosions and soaring flames erupting from the distant Minotaur formation perfectly confirmed this horrifying thought.
Those bastards, they really do have grenades!
Not just grenades, but explosives and Incendiary Bombs too! Huai Shi’s exclusive patents: the thrice-refined Alchemy Explosive V4.0 and the metallic Incendiary Bomb, Wrath of Ramses. These close-range, mutually destructive weapons, when wielded by the fearlessly suicidal Rat-men, were a union as potent as the legendary "Golden Wind and Jade Dew upon meeting, surpassing countless meetings in the mundane world"—a perfect, deadly synergy.
The jubilant Rat-men, clutching their "big bangs," charged with bloodshot eyes into the enemy formations, then abruptly threw themselves to the ground. It was like children kowtowing for red envelopes during New Year’s, offering up their grand "gifts."
"A special delivery for you!"
As streams of fire erupted from amongst the Minotaur Warriors, a searing wind, thick with the acrid smell of metal, blasted outwards.
Huai Shi leaned on her sword, standing idly by, quietly observing the unfolding battle. She watched the Colonel in the depths of the refinery.
The Colonel, too, was silently watching her. His hand repeatedly rose and fell on the hilt of his army saber—gripping it, then releasing—but he never drew the blade. He was still indecisive. Amidst the dancing flames, the shadows on his masked face shifted constantly, his expression unreadable.
His gaze on Huai Shi slowly filled with disappointment.
His adversary, after all, had not used that terrifying weapon which had instantly crippled Pant Delong. It was unclear if there were limitations or some other reason, but if he allowed the enemy to continue this relentless bombardment, even the Minotaur Heavy Armor Team, renowned for their endurance and defensive prowess, would likely crumble.
He was still hesitating.
Right before his eyes, Huai Shi raised her hand. The darkness within the Buried Sacred Place surged, practically boiling over. Instantly, countless blood-red giant ravens emerged, spreading their wings and ascending into the sky. A crimson torrent wheeled and circled high in the Sky Dome.
Under the enhancement of the "Offensive" of war, it was actually these Crows of the Yin Soul that underwent a true Metamorphosis. In the dim, flickering light of the distant fires, they viciously spread their wings and dived towards the enemy below. Their razor-sharp wing feathers sliced through the air; even the heavy armor of the Minotaurs could hardly resist their passage.
A total of one thousand two hundred and sixty-four ravens from the Crow Flock descended abruptly.
They didn’t plunge directly into the main battlefield. Instead, they swept over the chaotic fray and then surged towards the massive jellyfish hovering in the sky. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖
In the scorching clouds, the giant jellyfish shuddered violently. Dozens of its hundred-plus tentacles lashed out, sweeping blindly, but they couldn’t touch the Crow Flock that dispersed and reformed like smoke. As the ravens swooped past, they released the bombs clutched in their talons, leaving clusters of fiery explosions on the jellyfish’s enormous bell.
Even after four or five consecutive blasts, the jellyfish’s bell surprisingly remained intact, not disintegrating as expected. As its translucent, jelly-like outer layer ruptured, a vast amount of near-boiling coolant sprayed out from within.
The attacks failed to inflict significant damage but successfully disrupted the giant Sublimator Synthetic Beast’s operations.
On the jellyfish’s back, the gunman who had previously attacked Huai Shi attempted to counterattack. Soon, as the Crow Flock scattered, a somber, middle-aged man in a black clerical robe appeared atop the jellyfish’s bell.
"Holy—" Van Essen murmured fervently, his eyes lifted, the Axe of Anger in his hand glowing with an incandescent light.
He stepped forward.
The sound of Space Break ripped through the air. Ignoring the deadly blades raining down from above, Van Essen reached the gunman. The burning Axe Blade chopped down with a thunderous roar.
The gunman barely managed to draw his dagger to block. In the next instant, his arm was shattered by the blow, and most of the limb detached and fell.
Blood spurted.
The gunman retreated rapidly, trying to dodge, but he couldn’t escape Van Essen’s speed. The Executioner from the former Religious Judicature, swift as a shadow, closed in, striking for his neck.
If, at such close range, he couldn’t even deal with a mere sniper, how could he still be called a premier Purifier?
The gunman, with no room to retreat, didn’t hesitate. He leaped from the jellyfish’s back, plummeting towards the earth.
But in mid-air, Van Essen’s face was already inches away.
Several falling Sharp Blades pierced Van Essen’s back, yet his stern, solemn face remained expressionless. He raised the Axe Blade once more and brought it down!
A spray of blood erupted in mid-air.
Only a mutilated corpse hit the ground, along with a broken Border Relic. Despite his protective gear, the body was mangled, resembling little more than a heap of torn flesh.
Then, the severed head belatedly tumbled to a stop at the Colonel’s feet.
The Colonel glanced down at the face. In silence, he lifted his foot and kicked it away. Drawing his Sword Blade, he leveled it at Huai Shi, issuing his challenge.
Huai Shi remained expressionless, unmoved, as if she hadn’t seen a thing. She couldn’t be bothered.
At this, the eyes behind the Colonel’s mask grew even more somber.
As he lowered his blade, one cold shadow after another emerged from the flames behind him. The Colonel’s doppelgangers and soldiers had returned. But this time, their attire was completely different. They had abandoned their decades-old uniforms for masks, helmets, dark camouflage fatigues, and bulletproof vests. These elite soldiers were fully equipped. Beyond modern firearms, they carried hand grenades, extra ammunition, grenade launchers, mortars, and even anti-aircraft rocket launchers—a complete arsenal.
Under the blessing of the Stigma’s miracles, they were entirely unaffected by Hell.
Their numbers exceeded sixty, virtually an entire special operations force.
At this moment, the Colonel’s title truly lived up to its name.
Just then, the tranquil night sky outside the refinery was shattered by a roar. A searing beam of light erupted in the distance, streaking diagonally across the night sky towards the far side of the Town of Dusk, faintly illuminating the silhouette of a colossal ship. Then, the fiery trails of countless missiles seared the darkness.
On the ground below, numerous fires rapidly erupted, growing vigorously amidst dense gunpowder smoke and shockwaves.
That was the direction of the Iron Crystal Throne.
Huai Shi glanced calmly over her shoulder, unperturbed.
With the Iron Crystal Throne, the Great Grandmaster standing guard, and so many Scholars, Alchemists, and Sublimators from the Exploration Team assisting, if the Ivy League could actually sack their headquarters, she’d cut off her own head on the spot.
Doesn’t she realize where her greatest strength lies? Her confidence boiled down to two words: Great Grandmaster.
As long as the Great Grandmaster remained, the Iron Crystal Throne could never fall. Huai Shi would always have an absolutely secure rear, free from any worries.
However, it now seems this subsidiary control center has become a trap, set by the Ivy League to lure the Ivory Tower’s forces into splitting up?
She grinned, a mocking smile directed at the Colonel.
