Chapter 130

"Ge Mu, how is the fleet project progressing?"

The Ogre craftsman leader Ge Mu, wearing a heavy leather apron stained with wood chips and resin, with a measuring rope hanging from his tusks, immediately beat his chest and saluted upon hearing the voice. Before him was the Legion Marshal who had come in person to inspect the riverside shipyard.

"Report to the Marshal!" Ge Mu's voice was rough but clear, drowning out the incessant sawing and knocking sounds. "The project is advancing at full speed according to plan.

Currently, ten 'River Claw' class light patrol boats have all been completed and launched, and are undergoing final calibration and rowing training by the Lizardman craftsmen. Their speed and flexibility exceed expectations, sufficient to control any water area within fifty miles upstream of the Mu River."

He turned sideways, leading to a busier dry dock area behind him, from which came the work songs of heavy timber hoisting. "Look over there, three Iron Tusk class medium troop transport ships, the main keels were completed with magical bonding yesterday, and the ribs are being installed simultaneously.

According to the calculations of the Lizardman craftsmen, and our three-shift rotation schedule, all hull structures, armor plating, and basic rune embedding can be completed within nine combat days. On the tenth day, load and speed tests can be conducted."

He paused, adding: "At that time, each ship will be able to transport at least two full-strength heavy-armored hundred-man squads at once, and the speed will be no less than seventy percent of the patrol boats."

"Ge Mu, the wood chips and the sound of the waves before you have blinded your level of prediction for war."

Sha Lu Te's voice was not loud, but it drowned out the commotion of the entire shipyard. He took a step forward, his shadow looming over the craftsman who was still maintaining a reporting posture.

"Ten patrol boats, three keels... do you think we are building a cruise fleet for a riverside manor?" He raised his hand, pointing to the murky and vast surface of the Mu River, as if pointing to an invisible strategic map.

"On my ledger, excluding battle damage and troops left to guard strongholds, there are twenty full legions, two hundred thousand war blades waiting to drink blood, waiting to flow downstream along the river."

His gaze turned back, cold as iron. "Their destination is the Mu River Plain in the middle reaches. And accompanying these two hundred thousand soldiers are five thousand fully armored Great Tusk War Pigs. They are not cargo; they are living siege hammers that will launch the first wave of death charges on the plain."

"Tell me, Ge Mu," Sha Lu Te leaned forward slightly, his eyes under the helmet brim staring fixedly at the other party, "can those three beautiful keels you are laying, and the few dozen ships in your plan, carry my war?"

He straightened up, no longer looking at Ge Mu's instantly pale face, but toward the river wind, spitting out the final, unquestionable demand like a verdict:

"I need at least three hundred 'Iron Tusk' class transport ships, and they must appear on this river surface before the next dry season arrives. Now, tell me, do you and your shipyard truly understand the meaning of this number?"

Ge Mu was pressed so hard by the Marshal's words that he could barely breathe, his thick neck shrinking slightly, his tusks rubbing uneasily. He raised his hand to wipe the grime mixed with sweat and wood chips from his forehead, his voice tinged with a rare embarrassment and anxiety caused by professional incompetence.

"Ma... Marshal," his throat was dry, struggling to organize his language, "subordinate... subordinate and this bunch of brats, you know best.

We were born knowing how to swing hammers to smash city walls, how to dig trenches and build ramparts to make enemies crash and bleed. The production process of every heavy ballista in the armory, the way to stack every crenelation stone, is carved into our bones. But this..."

He turned back abruptly, his arm slashing fiercely toward the noisy yet inefficient shipyard, pointing at a young Ogre soldier trying to hammer a curved shipboard straight. The wooden board snapped in two with a "crack" under his excessive force, drawing a burst of urgent and angry hissing from the nearby Lizardman overseer.

"—But this shipbuilding work, it's different!" Ge Mu's voice rose, carrying a kind of helpless frustration.

"The academy only taught us how to build battering rams to destroy ships, never how to make wood float by itself while carrying people! Curvature, draft, keel stress... these words are harder to understand than spells!"

He pointed to the few bronze-colored figures in the distance who stood out among the many green leather aprons; those Lizardman craftsmen were surrounding a shipboard model, communicating rapidly in a way outsiders could not understand.

"The Lizardman masters... their craftsmanship is impeccable, but there are only twelve of them in total! They can draw the most exquisite blueprints, can mix the most magical adhesives, but they can't conjure more hands! They can only direct; the key steps must be done by them personally.

And our people..." Ge Mu shook his head painfully, "learning to use a plane is ten times harder than learning to use a war axe! Drying, steaming, bending the wood—if you're not careful, days of hard work are all wasted.

We have already transferred the smartest engineers over, but the speed... the speed really can't pick up. This isn't a matter of will, Marshal, this is... this is a craft not carved into our bones."

The Marshal's eyes turned sharp suddenly, like a razor scraping across Ge Mu's face.

"Who told you to build that turtle shell that lasts for ten thousand generations?!"

His voice was very low, but carried a kind of ferocious pragmatism.

"Ge Mu, is your head still filled with the dogmas of the Engineering Academy? Open your eyes and look, this is a battlefield, not a ship model workshop!" He pointed fiercely downstream of the Mu River, as if he could pierce the horizon and reach the plain of slaughter.

"What I want is to transport two hundred thousand warriors who can kill, five thousand war pigs that can charge, and enough supplies for them to eat and drink!"

He took a step forward, almost nose-to-nose with Ge Mu, his breath spraying onto the other's face.

"Don't fall apart before reaching the Mu River Plain, that is the only standard! Once you arrive, even if it shatters into wooden pieces on the spot, as long as my soldiers and pigs have landed, its mission is complete!"

He took half a step back, poking Ge Mu's sturdy chest heavily with his finger.

The Marshal waved his hand fiercely, cutting off all excuses.

"Change it for me! Lower the standards, halve the construction period. Use the sturdiest logs to bundle and reinforce directly, use iron bars to support the interior, and wrap key parts in iron sheets. Runes? Just the most basic 'reinforcement' and a little bit of 'water avoidance,' just enough to last for a ten-day voyage!

I want to see thirty keels erected in the shipyard simultaneously, I want to see those brats who can't learn to plane wood go carry logs, hammer rivets, and bundle ropes for me!"

"As you command, Marshal, within twenty days, I guarantee the ships you want will be launched on time."

…………

The model of the ruins on the command sand table was illuminated gloomily and ferociously by several burning torches. Giske's huge claws pressed directly onto the edge of the sand table, on the area belonging to "Crystal Horn Bay."

He lifted his head, the light of iron and blood dancing in his beast pupils, sweeping over every face in the tent etched with gunpowder smoke and fatigue.

"Spare the nonsense. The Bailong Sect scumbags have been cleared, now, it's time for the main course." His voice was not loud, but it drowned out the wind and waves outside the tent.

"Our fist cannot keep smashing against the demon's hardest forehead until it rots. Next, we are going to hit its waist, hit the place it least expects and can least tolerate."

His claw tip stabbed fiercely into the depression on the sand table representing the Crystal Horn Bay port.

"Here. Crystal Horn Bay. Within five days, I want it to fly our flag."

"Iron Jaw!"

An Ogre battle banner commander with a face full of flesh and tusks turned outward stepped forward, his armor clanking.

"Present!"

"You, continue to nail yourself to the front. Starting tomorrow, push all the catapults to the forefront of the beachhead, and bombard day and night!

Take all those 'junk' in the inventory that explode, scream, and emit poisonous smoke, and smash them all onto the demon's city walls! I want them to be unable to even open their eyes, and their ears to be filled with your 'greetings'!"

Giske stared at him, word by word: "Your mission is not to break the city, but to make the demons believe that I, Giske, am about to crush them from the front. If there is one hour less of commotion, I will hold you accountable!"

"As you command!" Iron Jaw grinned and beat his chest.

"Gonor!"

A lean, vulture-eyed Gnoll scout flag commander stepped out silently.

"Your Cliff Banner, pull them all out. Give you one day to draw every rock crevice, every protrusion that can hold a rope, every rat hole within five miles above and to the sides of Crystal Horn Bay, and make it clearer than your own faces!"

Giske took a pitch-black bone talisman from his bosom and threw it to him.

"Take this, it can help you avoid most of the abyss's prying eyes. I want to know where to go down to step directly on the roof of the port tower; where to walk to get behind the winch of their gate."

Gonor took the bone talisman, a bloodthirsty light flashing in his eyes: "Understood, Marshal. I guarantee I'll even count how much moss is growing in their wall cracks."

"Shadow Claw!"

The Lizardman commander's cold vertical pupils turned toward him.

"Your fleet is the lifeline of this operation. Two days later at night, I want your 'Black Tide' main force to make the biggest commotion on the front of the Star-Shattering Strait! Put on a posture of wanting to launch a strong attack on Crystal Horn Bay from the sea."

Giske leaned in a step, his hot breath spraying onto Shadow Claw's cold scales.

"But what truly matters are your three fastest, quietest 'Shadow Ships.' They must stick to the breakwater of Crystal Horn Bay like shadows when the signal I send rises!

Those on the ships are not sailors, but my most elite heavy-armored troops; once the gate opens, they will be the first wedge to rush in!"

Shadow Claw's eyelids blinked slowly: "Signal?"

"Blood Fire Meteor. You will see it explode from the top of the cliff." Giske said in a low voice, "If the ship misses the time, or is discovered in advance... you know the consequences."

"Black Tide never misses the time." Shadow Claw responded hoarsely.

"As for the main attack..." he grinned, revealing stark white sharp teeth. "I will lead the team personally. The 'Blood Tooth' guard team in its entirety, plus all the flying hooks and demolition experts of the Deep Gnome engineer chief. We will go down from the cliff."

He grabbed the small flag representing the demon port garrison on the sand table and crushed it in his claw.

"Did you all hear clearly? Go prepare yourselves. If we lose, we all feed the maggots in the abyss; if we win..." he paused, his voice full of naked desire, "only then will we have the qualifications to ask for the war merits in the Great Duke's hands."

The generals roared their agreement, killing intent permeating the air.

Giske added one last sentence, though his gaze was cast toward the endless darkness outside the tent:

"Oh, right. The external story is that we are launching a full-scale offensive against the demons to 'avenge' our 'unfortunately murdered' Bailong Sect allies. Make sure you act this play out fully."

The meeting ended, the generals hurried away, leaving only the port model deeply embedded by his claws on the sand table, and the cold, precise flame burning in Giske's eyes.

The decapitation operation is about to begin. And this time, his blade will bypass the hardest skull and strike directly at the throat.