Empire Army's Desperate Situation?

The eerie green phosphorus fire burned on the stone slope beneath the fortress, greatly hindering the Empire army's efforts to pile up the slope.

The stone slope had already reached nearly thirty meters in height. The towering fortress was conservatively estimated to be thirty-five meters high, leaving no more than five meters between the slope and the fortress.

Yet those five meters had become an impassable barrier. The green phosphorus fire produced by shattered incendiary bottles was scorching hot. Human bodies were nothing before it—even steel would melt into molten iron.

Although the green phosphorus fire burned for only a short time, dispersing after roughly ten seconds, the goblins on the fortress kept throwing down green phosphorus incendiary bottles without pause, preventing the Empire army from advancing.

With the green phosphorus fire supporting them, the dwarves on the fortress operated the Fortress Heavy Repeating Crossbows and fired volley after volley. The Imperial soldiers beneath the fortress suffered horrific casualties. They were slaughtered without being able to do anything; flesh and blood could not possibly cross the green phosphorus fire.

Worse still, under the scorching green phosphorus fire, the stones on the slope began to melt, turning into a dark-red liquid. It was magma.

The Empire army was in a terrible position. They could neither charge upward nor retreat. Their casualties had already exceeded eighty thousand. If they withdrew like this, it would deal a permanent blow to morale, and there would be no need to continue the war afterward—unless they replaced the entire batch of soldiers.

The legion commander, Carlos, stood before the green phosphorus fire, watching the stones gradually melt.

Whoosh~

A bullet shot toward Carlos. Carlos casually swung his sword, splitting the bullet in two. He had already lost count of how many of those things he had