Waking After the Battle, the War Machine That Ran Itself

Steam was still rising from the canyon's fracture zone, and rubble and black blood were flowing down the cracks.

The entire Black Tide was cut into three sections: the front section was buried in the collapsed area of the ruins, the middle section was blocked at the throat, and the rear section was thinned layer by layer by the Mobile Holy Knight.

But some things still survived.

A dozen High-Rank Werewolf had narrowly escaped the boulder struggled out of the pile of corpses, their bodies riddled with penetrating wounds, half of their fur charred by the exploding canister, and broken arrows still lodged in their chests.

Under the Blood Moon, they felt no pain, and with the last few thousand surviving Ghoul and low-level Magic Creature, they charged forward, stepping on broken bones and mud.

At the edge of the Gray Fog, the White-Gold Sacred Flame of the Blackpine Fief still burned steadily.

That glimmer of light, in their eyes, was their last chance to survive, and a meal to replenish their vitality.

They no longer think about anything; only instinct remains.

They rushed over, crashed into the fire, and dragged out the people still alive inside to chew them up.

When this remnant army rushed out of the canyon, they looked disheveled, but they were still fast.

A muffled, trembling roar first echoed from the Blackpine Fief's high tower Dark Bunker.

Thump--!

Three Rune- inscribed arrows, each as thick as a wrist, shot out simultaneously from different angles, their tails trailing scorching white smoke from the steam valves, as if the arrows had been smashed by a heavy hammer.

There was no rain of arrows, only targeted kills.

The three High-Rank Werewolf at the forefront had just leaped onto the broken slope when simultaneously a bloody hole exploded in their chests.

The immense kinetic energy propelled them backward, embedding them into the rock walls on either side.

The sound of bones cracking could be heard clearly even from this distance; the previously intact charging arrowhead broke off in an instant.

The remaining enemy forces continued to push forward, and just as they surged up the slope leading to the main city, the crossbow arrays on both sides of the Bent Corner Wall simultaneously unleashed their fire.

Dense steel arrows crisscrossed the slope, like cold blades skimming the ground.

Ghoul and Lesser Demon fell in rows, their heads, forelimbs, intestines, and broken bones flying off together, and the slope quickly turned red.

But that wasn't the end of it. The remaining soldiers, braving severed limbs and a hail of arrows, finally rushed to within thirty meters of the city walls.

At the same moment, the interlocking valves of the forward trench were opened, and a gray-green, high-pressure Venom Mist was violently sprayed out close to the ground.

The fog didn't disperse upwards; it specifically pressed down on the Magic Creature's mouth, nose, and eyes.

The Werewolf was the first to be affected. As soon as it inhaled, it felt like its nasal cavity was filled with scalding acid, and its eyeballs and tear film instantly burst open.

They covered their faces and screamed in agony, spinning wildly in the Venom Mist, bumping into their own kind, and then being pounced on by the Ghoul behind them.

Several High-Rank Werewolf, in a frenzy, even began tearing at each other, their claws digging into each other's eye sockets, their throats snapping, and black blood spraying all over the ground in the mist.

The charge ended there.

In the shallow ditch below the city, mud mixed with high concentrations of Holy Silver slag and strong acid was bubbling with fine white foam.

A High-Rank Werewolf, his chest and abdomen split open with half of his internal organs hanging out, was still charging forward, fueled by his berserk blood.

It had already climbed to the foot of the city wall, and could even see the new recruits holding spears above, when a final fierce glint appeared in its eyes.

But as soon as it stepped into the shallow ditch, its whole body jerked violently.

The black blood seeping from the wound sizzled and popped as soon as it touched the Holy Silver slag.

The flesh that should have been forcibly regenerated seemed to be nailed shut, and the strong acid drilled into his ankles and the cracked chest, making his bones brittle layer by layer.

It opened its mouth wide, its howl distorted with pain, and tried to claw at the city bricks with its front paws, but two long spears inside the city were already swiftly thrust down.

"Pfft, pfft."

The spear tip pierced through the eye socket and the back of the head, cleanly as if it were stabbing a dead fish hanging up.

The Werewolf's body went limp and it finally slumped down.

Karen stood on the outer slope, watching this scene, and remained motionless for a long time.

He was originally there to deliver the final blow to the fleeing monsters, and he was even prepared for a bloody battle with the remaining enemies.

But in the scene before him, even he seemed superfluous.

Those Magic Creature that were once enough to tear apart heavy infantry and force Holy Knight to form ranks and hold out are now like a pack of mad dogs with their teeth pulled and eyes blinded by the stench beneath the walls of Blackpine Fief.

Heavy arrows first sever the head, crossbows then slice through the flesh, Venom Mist destroys the five senses, shallow trenches hinder regeneration, and only then does the spear-wielding recruit deliver the lightest blow.

The whole thing was packed down, and it wasn't even a hard-fought battle.

Karen gripped the sword, feeling a tingling sensation in her back, yet also an indescribable sense of exhilaration in her chest.

--

It turns out that the best commanders can really lead a war to this point.

It's not about leading you into a pile of corpses to fight; it's about planning everything before the battle, watching the enemy be stripped bare layer by layer, and finally saving you the strength to even draw your sword.

When the final convulsion stopped below the city walls, the entire battlefield finally fell silent.

The gunfire slowly receded, while the Venom Mist still lingered above the shallow ditch.

The ground was covered with charred bits of flesh, broken arrows, wolf bones, and trampled Ghoul.

Castian stood at the highest point, his breathing perfectly steady.

His gaze passed over the pile of corpses and blood, slowly settling on the Blackpine Fief's Tower.

Mudslide sieve, canyon bundle, embers of fire lure, Source Furnace cutter, Holy Knight chop.

Only now is this piece of the puzzle truly complete.

And the Blackpine Fief is the final anchor point that firmly holds the bottom.

Shien is right. A territory that can only defend its own walls will eventually be crushed.

Only when it becomes the final, locked piece of the entire battle strategy can it hold out for a long time.

The last trace of scrutiny in Castian's eyes finally vanished completely.

Shien suddenly opened his eyes, stared at the ceiling above him for a couple of breaths, and then slowly exhaled.

The stabbing pain deep in my brain that had been piercing me for a month finally subsided, and the back of my eyes no longer felt like it was stuffed with red-hot nails.

He raised his hand and pressed his temples; the skin beneath his fingertips still felt warm from a long sleep.

Memories are slowly returning.

The defenses of Blackiron Canyon are now fully complete, with Castian personally overseeing the operation.

At that time, he could barely sit up straight, and only one thought remained in his mind: he should sleep, even if the sky were to fall, he should get some sleep first.

He threw off the blanket and got out of bed, but paused as soon as his feet touched the cold stone floor.

The room was filled with calming incense, but the wind squeezing in through the cracks in the stone windows made the smell even stronger.

The stench was burnt, the acrid smell of evaporating acid, and an overwhelmingly cloying stench of Magic Creature blood.

Shien frowned, casually threw on his coat, and went out the door.

--

The heavy wooden door creaked open, and a gust of cold wind immediately rushed in from the corridor.

When Ivan, who was standing outside the door, saw him come out, he was stunned for a moment, and then his eyes suddenly lit up.

"My lord, you've finally woken up!"

His armor, which had once been polished to a gleaming shine, was now unrecognizable.

The shoulder armor, breastplate, and skirt armor were covered in dried, blackened blood and bits of flesh, and even the seams of the helmet were stuffed with clumps of hair from unknown Magic Creature.

But he seemed to be on fire, his breathing becoming slightly heavier than usual.

Shien glanced at him, his voice still a little heavy. "How long have I been asleep? What happened outside?"

"For a whole day and night." Ivan said in a low voice, but his excitement still blazed out. "Not long after you fell asleep, an unprecedented, super-sized Beast Tide rushed out of the Gray Fog."

Frenzyblood Werewolf, elite Ghoul, and a whole bunch of other random stuff filled the outer perimeter.

Shien's eyes darkened slightly, and he was about to ask about the casualties when Ivan blurted out the rest of the story.

"But we won. That defensive line seemed to come alive. Relying on the rules you set in advance, we ground those monsters into mincemeat layer by layer."

"My lord, you slept for a full day and night, yet the entire battlefield continues to operate according to your plan."

After hearing this, Shien did not speak immediately. He walked to the window and pushed open the heavy wooden window.

With a whoosh, a gust of cold wind rushed in.

The view outside the window made him pause for a moment.

Beyond the Blackpine, it was hardly land anymore, piled high with layers upon layers of Magic Creature remains.

The Auxiliary Soldier were moving back and forth among the piles of corpses, dissecting bones, taking blood, cutting skin, and packing them into boxes, their movements as fast as clearing out an exploded mine.

Several carts in the distance were fully loaded with Raw Blood, high-level bones, and dismantled alchemical materials.

Shien leaned against the windowsill, his eyes expressionless, but a slight, helpless smile slowly crept onto his lips.

"What a pity—" he said softly, as if speaking to himself.

When this battle line makes its debut, he should stand at the highest point, witness the entire machine meshing together completely for the first time, and watch those monsters die one by one on the routes he has calculated.

But he fell asleep and was so asleep that he didn't even see the most exciting part.

That feeling of resentment only lingered in my heart for a moment before being quickly suppressed by something else.

Shien slowly closed the window, shutting out the cold wind and the smell of blood, and sat back down by the fireplace.

The flickering firelight illuminated his still somewhat pale face, but the tension that had been weighing on his brows and eyes for so long gradually dissipated at this moment.

He had actually been holding on for far too long.

From the moment I was thrown into this dead land, every day felt like walking on a cracking ice surface.

By day they oversaw the construction, by night they monitored the rotations; even with their eyes closed, they were still watching the trenches, arrow emplacements, and firing lines.

Even in my dreams, there was a shortage of food, unstable defenses, demoralized people, and empty Workshop.

Especially when the Blood Moon Season Rose arrives, you have to squeeze every last drop of energy out of yourself.

Even if he's only half a beat too slow, the entire territory could be dragged into the Gray Fog along with him.

But things are different now.

This major battle, in which he was absent, proved one of the most important things to him.

Blackpine Fief is no longer the crumbling city that would fall apart without him.

This defensive system is already operational on its own, and the bishop's Holy Knight are also helping to guard the surrounding defenses.

During the upcoming Blood Moon Season, I finally won't have to risk my life every night.

Shien leaned back in his chair, let out a long sigh, and watched the firewood slowly sink in the fire, his brows gradually relaxing.

What he should really be concerned about from now on is no longer how to survive tonight, but the upgrade of the next Workshop and alchemy system.

On this Long Night, with the Blood Moon still high in the sky, the fourteen-year-old lord finally earned himself a little space to sit by the fire and catch his breath.