First Victory in the Long Night

After [Lv.3 Macro Battlefield Command] is deployed, the trenches, Dark Bunker, ice slopes, and Fang-Splitting Formation of the Blackpine Fief defense line are reconstructed into dark blue lines and grids.

Hundreds of small teams of seven or ten men, like Kyle's, are positioned at different locations along the Blackpine Five-Ring, relentlessly pursuing the wolf pack that has charged in.

Meanwhile, Shien stood in the center of the tower, continuously issuing commands:

"There's a gap to the Southeast; nearby Battle Aura Knight move forward to provide support and cover the gap."

"The wolf pack on the north side formed a line, Steam Repeating Crossbow opened fire, crushing them with oblique shots."

A series of macro-level instructions were transmitted from here, then broken down by Fabien and officers of various ranks, and finally delivered to every front line through flags, bells, and horns.

A few hours later, the mournful howls of wolves outside the defensive line finally subsided, slowly sinking into the deathly silence under the Blood Moon.

The military Recorder clutched a roll of parchment tightly, his hands trembling.

He gasped for breath, his voice trembling with barely suppressed elation, almost shouting, "Lord! The first wave of Beast Tide! We just finished checking the casualties at the front: three dead! Fifteen seriously wounded, and fifty-seven lightly wounded!"

Ivan slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, and the usually stern-faced Knight's taut back relaxed a bit.

The officers nearby also couldn't hide their joy.

Placing them on the Eternal Night Wall, surviving the first wave of Beast Tide and managing to keep most of them intact is already quite remarkable.

But as Shien stood before the massive tactical Sand Table, his icy blue pupils remained calm.

He raised his hand and tapped heavily on the edge of the Sand Table, his voice icy. "Rotate the defensive lines, send all the Auxiliary Soldier Camp and craftsmen's teams up there."

Clear out the corpses in the first and second rings as soon as possible, reset the spike traps, re-pour the ice slope, and collect the loot!

The heavy bronze bell at the top of the tower was soon struck and rang, its command resounding throughout the entire camp.

At the Auxiliary Soldier' assembly point behind the inner wall, the Convicts who had been huddled together immediately sprang into action upon hearing the signal.

"For work points!" a few Convicts shouted first, and the men behind them immediately turned red-eyed, grabbed their weapons, and charged forward despite the discomfort under the Blood Moon.

Hundreds and thousands of Auxiliary Soldier crowded into the stench-filled trenches.

Working in pairs, they used long-handled iron hooks to dig deep into the chin, hamstrings, and shoulder muscles of the dead wolves, gritting their teeth as they dragged the hundreds-of-pounds-heavy corpses off the mud and sharp wooden stakes, then tossed them one by one onto a wheelbarrow.

The wheels rolled over the bloodstains, continuously transporting the corpses to the open space within the territory.

Once they get there, this batch of flesh and blood will be immediately dismantled.

The fat was rendered into corpse oil for the next round of use, the intact hides and leg bones were sent to the materials warehouse as armor and weapon materials, and the Primordial Blood Crystals in the chest cavity were all taken out and directly added to the base of the Sacred Flame Altar platform and the steam boiler.

The Magic Creature that were just tearing at living people have now become the fuel and materials for Blackpine Fief to continue operating.

Following closely behind the Convicts into the trench was a team of craftsmen.

The young apprentice stepped into the blackened blood, gripped the long-handled iron pliers tightly, and slammed them into the base of the bent Refined-Steel Ground Spikes.

With a screeching sound, the broken spike was pulled out completely.

The Mechanic next to him immediately inserted the spare spring mechanism into the groove, stepped on it, and locked it in place—all in one smooth motion.

At the other end of the trench, several bricklayers carried heavy oak buckets and poured mortar mixed with ice water and Quicklime onto the deceleration slope, ladle by ladle. The white marks on the slope, dug out by the claws of the Night Wolf, were quickly filled in.

The chill of the Blood Moon Season arrived extremely quickly; as soon as the mortar hit the ground, the sound of it freezing echoed across the slope.

Before long, the new layer of ash froze solid again, forming a shiny ice shell.

The only sounds in the trench were heavy breathing, the clanging of metal, and the rolling of wooden wheels over mud and blood.

Everyone is racing against time in the hourglass.

They had witnessed firsthand how the dug trenches, the buried spikes, and the splashed oil and ash shredded the attacking Magic Creature layer by layer.

The faster this gully is cleared, the harder the ice slope freezes, and the more people will survive when the next wave comes.

The Auxiliary Soldier and craftsmen were still dragging away the corpses and resetting the mechanisms outside the defensive line.

Through the soil, the sounds of iron hooks clashing with hammers echoed into the trenches. The armored soldiers finally managed to catch their breath.

Several logistics soldiers, carrying blackened wooden buckets, waded through the muddy, bloody water, stuffing freshly boiled hot wheat porridge and black bread into people's hands one by one.

Todd leaned against the cold, smelly mud wall and plopped down on it.

The hands that had just gripped the spear tightly were now trembling uncontrollably.

He held the iron spear between his legs, his hands cradling a piece of coarse bread mixed with wheat bran, stuffing it into his mouth bite after bite.

His body was covered in half-dried wolf blood and sticky brain matter, even his face was smeared with it, but he couldn't be bothered to wipe it off.

The hook-and-fork hand, Barris, tilted his head back, gulped down most of a bowl of hot soup, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

He turned his head, looked at Todd's disheveled appearance, and couldn't help but grin.

"Hey, Todd, I heard you used to be a young master in a real baron's family? Tell me, which is more comfortable, the velvet cushions in your manor or the mud in our trenches?"

Todd paused in his chewing motion.

If he had heard such words in the first few days after being exiled, he would have already blushed and exploded.

But now, his gaze followed Barris's rough face to the arm still stained with wolf blood.

Half an hour ago, it was that hand that gripped the hook and fork tightly, shoving a berserk Night Wolf that was almost biting his face into the mud.

After blood and entrails covered his face, many things became less noticeable.

No matter how noble or respectable, in this muddy ditch of the Long Night, they are no match for even half an iron spear.

Todd hesitated for a long time, his face turning red, before finally blurting out, "A velvet cushion would definitely be more comfortable."

Barris was taken aback at first, then he and the other soldiers around him laughed, easing the tense atmosphere in the trench a little.

Even Todd himself thought what he said was a bit stupid, so he lowered his head and continued scraping the remaining hot soup at the bottom of the bowl.

Just then, a very strange noise suddenly emerged from the depths of the Gray Fog at the outermost edge of the defensive line.

"Crunch... creak--!"

The sound was wet and cold, like something huge crawling slowly along the frozen ground, scales and slime scraping across the Frozen Tundra, sending chills down one's spine.

Kyle, who had been leaning against the mud wall with his eyes closed, suddenly opened them wide.

The veteran's keen sense of alertness in his eyes instantly reached its limit. He lowered his voice and barked, "Hels on! Form ranks! That thing outside sounds suspicious. This wave won't be easy to take."

The smile that Todd had just begun to wear froze on his face.

The warmth that had just risen in my stomach vanished in the blink of an eye.

His arm, which had just begun to recover, tensed again and gripped the cold, Silver-Plated Iron Spear tightly.

Deep within the Gray Fog, a new danger is approaching.