Lord's Trial (Part 2)

The First Clone, holding a wooden board sketch drawn with charcoal, said, "As you instructed, we plan to set up three layers of defense in the alley."

Lin Mo lazily got up from the lounge chair and took the wooden board.

Although the sketch's lines were simple, the details within were clear at a glance:

The first layer, twenty meters from the gap in the city wall, would have a row of shallow pits filled with bamboo stakes smeared with concentrated poison blood.

These would be covered with straw mats and loose soil, appearing no different from flat ground.

The second layer, ten meters away, would be scattered with rusty caltrops soaked in poisoned water, salvaged from the corner of the warehouse as old stock.

The third layer, five meters away, would involve thin ropes tied to the rooftops on both sides, suspending clay pots filled with poison blood to create tripwire traps.

When the enemy forces charged, they would trigger the ropes, causing the clay pots to fall and shatter.

"Not bad," Lin Mo nodded. "But the bamboo stake traps have limited effectiveness. Heavy infantry wear thick iron boots; they might not be able to pierce them."

"That's why we've placed some poison blood pots at the base of the bamboo stakes,"

the First Clone explained. "Even if they don't pierce, stepping on them will still coat their feet in poison blood."

"Good," Lin Mo said, satisfied as he lay back down on the lounge chair. He suddenly remembered something and added, "Add a bit more:

Behind the area with the caltrops, dig a few deep pits. They don't need to be wide, but they must be deep enough.

The enemy soldiers who fall in won't be able to climb out for a while, making them perfect targets for the poison blood guns."

"Got it!" The First Clone acknowledged the order and left.

Lin Mo lay back down, squinting at the busy clones.

The lingering rays of the setting sun cast a golden-red hue, bathing every corner of the outpost.

Thirty-five identical figures moved about.

Some were digging pits with shovels, others were sharpening bamboo stakes with knives, some were engrossed in mixing poison blood, and still others were squatting under the eaves, carefully tying ropes to the clay pots.

There was an absurd sense of harmony to the scene.

If I took a picture of this and posted it on social media with the caption, 'Me and my thirty-five clones are preparing for battle,' would it go viral...

The thought flashed through his mind, and he chuckled to himself.

There were no social media accounts anymore.

An hour of preparation time passed quickly amidst the clones' busyness and the main body's idleness.

By the time the rope on the last tripwire trap was tied, the sky had completely darkened.

[Final wave assault will arrive in fifteen minutes]
[Enemy count: 200, Unit types: Heavy Infantry (50) + Light Infantry (150)]

A golden prompt box appeared right on time.

Lin Mo finally stood up from the rattan chair and stretched.

"Everyone in position," his voice was calm but carried an undeniable sense of command.

The thirty-five clones quickly dispersed to their designated spots:

Twenty went up to the rooftops to operate the tripwire traps and poison blood guns;

Fifteen retreated to the warehouse entrance to form the final defensive line.

Fifty militiamen were stationed behind the trap zone as a reserve force.

While they couldn't be expected to be of much use, they could at least fill the lines.

Lin Mo himself leisurely walked to the warehouse entrance and sat down on a pile of grain sacks.

"Main body, aren't you going to find a safer spot?" Clone Five couldn't help but ask.

"This spot is quite safe."

Lin Mo patted the grain sacks beneath him. "Besides, I'm supposed to be on the front lines directing the battle. How can I see the situation clearly if I'm too far away?"

The real reason was: it was only five steps from here to the inside of the warehouse. If the situation turned bad, he could slip inside and close the door immediately.

But he couldn't say that.

"They're here," the Third Clone on the rooftop whispered.

The heavy sound of footsteps echoed from the gap in the city wall.

Under the moonlight, fifty heavily armored heavy infantry soldiers surged forward first, their iron boots striking the ground with a synchronized, oppressive rhythm.

They had clearly learned from the previous two waves, advancing cautiously, shields held high in front of them, eyes warily scanning the ground.

But some things couldn't be avoided just by being careful.

The leading heavy infantry soldiers stepped onto the camouflaged bamboo stake area.

The straw mats caved in, and the bamboo stakes sprang out!

Thwack, thwack, thwack--

Most of the stakes were blocked by the thick soles of the iron boots, but a few pierced through the gaps on the sides of the boots or, due to their angle, struck the junction of the ankle.

"There's a trap!"

The heavy infantry immediately stopped, but those behind kept pushing forward.

In the chaos, more heavy infantry stepped onto the bamboo spike area.

Although the bamboo spikes were difficult to pierce the iron armor, the concentrated poison blood canisters placed at the bottom were smeared onto the surface of the iron boots when stepped on.

Hiss--!

As the iron boots came into contact with the poison blood, white smoke immediately rose.

"There's something underground!"

"Retreat! Fall back!" a heavy infantryman exclaimed.

But it was already too late.

The poison blood seeped into their shoes through the gaps, beginning to corrode their feet.

Even more terrifyingly, the poison blood guns on the rooftops began to spray!

Twenty streams of poison blood rain poured down from both sides, focusing on the gaps in the heavy infantry's faceplates and joint connections.

The heavy infantry formation began to fall into disarray.

Some tried to look up, only for the poison blood to shoot into the gaps of their faceplates and splash directly into their eyes.

Some tried to retreat, but their feet had already been corroded to the point where they couldn't exert force.

Fifty heavy infantrymen became living targets in the narrow alleyway.

"Light infantry! Go around from both sides!" the enemy commander's voice was filled with exasperation.

The light infantry responded and quickly skirted along the walls, only to run headfirst into the second line of defense—the caltrops area.