Chapter 131

From the dawn of the fourth day, the catapult positions at the Falling Star Beachhead entered an unprecedented state of fury. Over forty heavy counterweight catapults and twenty magical Scorching Flame ballistae poured destruction onto the demon's front city walls at a saturation frequency of one round every quarter-hour.

What was smashed over were not just boulders, but Goblin "surprise packages"—ceramic jars filled with sulfur, iron slag, and unstable arcane crystals, which exploded upon landing, then burned, and finally released acid mist that lasted for several minutes.

The front city wall area was completely shrouded in thick smoke, firelight, and incessant roaring. The demon's ranged firepower was suppressed, and their attention was firmly nailed to the front.

Obvious repair gaps began to appear on the city walls, but the repair speed was significantly slower than in the past, which meant that certain defensive resources were being transferred elsewhere.

Eagle Beak Cliff was a ferocious rock corner protruding outward on the west side of Crystal Horn Bay, with the port's peripheral towers and warehouse roofs four hundred meters below. The wind here was violent, the rock walls were wet and slippery, and it was shrouded in sea mist containing weak corrosives all year round.

Giske was personally at the edge of the cliff, taking out a gnome-made pocket watch, seeing the hands pointing to 9:47, at which time thick fog began to rise in the pitch-black night sky.

Behind him were three hundred "Blood Tusk" guards, in light armor, with sharp claws, carrying climbing tools and short-handled heavy weapons. Deep Gnome engineer chief Gerrick squatted to the side, checking the Spider-Walk Boots and silent rappelling ropes one last time; these were standard Drow equipment.

"Remember," Giske's voice was like a blade rubbing in the wind, "after going down, I will hit the lighthouse, the Black Tooth Squadron is responsible for hitting the west tower, and the rest will clear the warehouse area. Communicate with claws. The first one to alert the demons, I will personally throw into the Star-Shattering Strait."

When the pocket watch hands reached 9:53, the rappelling began. Ghostly black shadows slid rapidly into the thick fog and darkness along dozens of almost invisible ropes.

The Spider-Walk Boots allowed the soldiers to move horizontally on the near-vertical rock walls for a short time, avoiding the firelight of the patrols below.

When about one-third of the troops had descended, a patch of "cliff wall" that appeared to be rock suddenly began to squirm; that was the camouflaged ambush Abyss Predatory Moss!

This magical plant could secrete paralyzing mucus and emit psychic shrieks. Three Ogre soldiers were instantly wrapped and dragged into the rock crevices, only having time to let out half a muffled grunt.

Giske did not hesitate, twisting his body during the descent, tearing apart a patch of giant moss pouncing toward him with his bare hands, his body splashed with foul-smelling juice.

He made a rapid downward-cutting gesture to those above, abandoning those ambushed, and descended at full speed! War does not allow for a moment of mercy.

When Giske's feet stepped heavily onto the wooden planks of the trestle bridge on the periphery of the port lighthouse, he took out his pocket watch to check, the watch hand pointing exactly to 10:06.

Five demon guards were standing with their backs to the cliff direction, gazing at the firelight of the Lizardman fleet's feint attack on the strait.

Giske's dagger "Soul Hunter" drew a black light, two demon guards fell silently in an instant, and the remaining guards were torn to pieces within seconds by the guards pouncing like a wolf pack.

The lighthouse control room was right before his eyes. Inside were two Abyss Eye Demon servants manipulating the spotlight mirror (used to guide or interfere with ships), and one responsible Berserker Demon.

Giske broke in, the Berserker Demon's roar nailed back into his throat by a precisely thrown flying axe. The guards submerged the two screaming Eye Demons.

At 9:09 PM, the abyss purple light at the top of the lighthouse went out, and subsequently, a blood-red magic lamp flashed rhythmically three times toward the strait direction; this was the preparatory signal for Shadow Claw "In position, but gate not controlled."

At the same time, the west tower was successfully raided by the "Black Tooth Team," and the ballistae inside were destroyed. A fierce but short engagement also broke out in the warehouse area, and most of the low-level demon guards in their sleep were cleared.

"Enemy attack~!" Following a shrill scream, various alarms began to sound one after another in the entire demon lair, and at the same time, the passage to the main gate control room was blocked by a small team of Abyss Hoof Clan warriors.

At 10:17, Giske saw the torrent of torches pouring out from the reinforcement passage on the east side of the port, as well as an exceptionally tall Rock Ember Demon craftsman with lava cracks on his body surface; he knew he could not wait any longer.

He snatched a special signal tube from a guard's hand, pointed it at the sky, and pulled the fuse.

Whew—Boom!

A meteor wrapped in blood-colored flames exploded over the port, clearly visible even in the thick fog. This was no longer a preparatory signal, but a general attack order!

The Lizardman main fleet, which had been cruising on the front of the Star-Shattering Strait and creating a huge momentum, suddenly turned one-third of its ships, and with incredible speed, borrowed the ocean currents and magical sails to pounce directly on Crystal Horn Bay!

And the three "Shadow Ships" that had been sticking to the darkness outside the breakwater like shadows instantly lowered the iron-clad ram at the bow.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Three dull loud noises; the ram was not used to destroy the dam, but to chisel deeply into the stone crevices, firmly fixing the ship's body. The ship's side was lowered.

The Ogre warriors of the "City Breaker" heavy axe team, wearing heavy armor, surged onto the breakwater like a steel torrent, crashing fiercely toward the flank of the Abyss Hoof Clan warriors who were engaging Giske's guard team!

The Rock Ember Demon craftsman in the port tried to repeat the trick, melting the ground to create obstacles. But Giske was well prepared.

"Frost Spell! Smash it over!" The Deep Gnome engineers threw out the few metal cans engraved with potent Frost Runes. Cold mist collided with lava, exploding a large area of steam and shattered rock fragments, temporarily stalling the craftsman's spellcasting.

At the same time, several "Blood Tusk" guards used their bodies and temporarily found steel plates to hold off the Abyss Hoof Clan's charge, buying ten seconds for the engineers behind them.

In these ten seconds, the Deep Gnome engineers piled alchemy gunpowder under the granite gate.

At 10:25, a deafening explosion! A twisted hole was blown into the gate.

Giske was the first to rush in, inside was a complex winch and gear set. He didn't even look, swinging his "Dark Blade Spear," and launched a violent hacking at the core transmission structure! Metal twisted, gears flew off.

Following a tooth-aching sound of snapping, the system controlling the main gate and some sluice gates of Crystal Horn Bay was physically paralyzed. This meant that the demons could no longer isolate the inside and outside of the port by lowering the gate, nor could they activate certain preset underwater defense facilities.

With the main gate out of control, the coalition forces inside and outside the port began to converge, and the battle situation completely tilted toward Giske.

The Rock Ember Demon craftsman was nailed to the pier by a deep-sea cold iron harpoon fired by a Lizardman ship ballista while attempting to retreat, and was subsequently surrounded and killed.

The Abyss Hoof Clan warriors fought to the last man, with not one surrendering, their corpses piling up in the corridor outside the control room. The remaining demon garrison in the port was also gradually cleared.

After a night of bloody battle, about 70% of the Crystal Horn Bay port was occupied, the main gate control system was destroyed, and the lighthouse and two key towers fell into their hands. A stable maritime supply line capable of docking large transport ships was forcibly opened.

When the dawn of the fifth day illuminated the Star-Shattering Strait again, Crystal Horn Bay had changed masters. Giske's rough wolf-head battle flag was inserted at the highest point of the lighthouse, fluttering in the sea breeze.

He stood on the pier full of blood, wreckage, and corpses, beneath his feet were shattered gears and cooled lava. The Lizardman transport ships had already begun to dock cautiously, unloading the first batch of supplies for reinforcement works and fresh troops.

Shadow Claw walked to his side, his scales stained with gunpowder smoke. "The shipping lane is open. But the demons won't be willing; the counterattack from the main city area will come soon."

Giske looked toward the cliff, toward that silent and massive core area. He licked his dry, cracked lips, tasting the flavor of blood and sulfur.

"Let them come." His voice was hoarse from the night's roaring, but full of cold certainty.

"Now, it's our turn to stand inside the wall and wait for them to crash into it. Tell everyone, immediately turn this place into a hedgehog's nest. The real hard battle has just begun."

"Shadow Claw, your ships can return." Giske's voice was roughened by gunpowder smoke and roaring, his back to the gradually brightening daylight, his gaze falling on the mountain of casualties piled up in the port. "But this mess has only just begun."

He turned around, his scarlet beast pupils staring at the Lizardman commander.

"Go back and tell Lady Weilna, we pried the door open, but the things inside are biting back. The bones of the ruins are much harder than expected, every inch of stone is soaked with dirty things that make people go crazy.

I need more 'teeth' to gnaw it to pieces: components for heavy siege equipment, purification cores that can operate for a long time, and... special potions to clear abyssal pollution. Ordinary arrows and grain are no longer enough."

He walked a step closer, his lowered voice carrying the chill of rust: "The Great Duke has too many enemies, eyes in the dark are not just staring here, but staring at our backs.

I cannot spill all the blood on this wall, I must leave enough claws to nail down other directions. Therefore, the troop strength I can continue to fill in will not exceed one hundred thousand."

He finally looked toward the sea level, his tone unquestionable: "The shipping lane has been opened, time is troop strength. Make her hurry."

…………

"Su Lai De, our situation is becoming increasingly dangerous. Five days ago, Luo Ge ran over and told me that the Great Duke encountered trouble in the 72nd plane and asked me to be responsible for the affairs of the 1872nd plane."

"I also encountered big trouble here. Morax, can you explain clearly what is going on with the Bailong Sect? Sa Nuo Zhuo found me half a month ago and said that their Bailong Sect team of over a thousand people was ambushed in the Rift Stone Continent.

The entire army was wiped out, not even a single person who reported the news escaped. That guy ran over and asked me who did it, how would I know who did it, do you know?"

"Who did it?" Morax's hoarse voice came from the other side of the crystal ball, carrying a hint of playful, near-cruel amusement.

"Is it important? Su Lai De, the Great Duke only said 'drag their footsteps,' but didn't say what to use to drag, whether to use living people or dead people... is there a difference?"

He seemed to be slowly shaking his wine glass on the other side, the sound of the liquid sloshing faintly audible.

"People are dead, the one who should be sought is the one who set this chessboard, not us who move the pieces. If Sa Nuo Zhuo has the guts, let him go to the Abyss Furnace front and ask the Great Duke personally?"

A low, hoarse laughter came over, like a dull knife scraping across bone.

"He doesn't dare. No matter how crazy the Bailong Sect is, they know which dragon's true name cannot be recited, and which abyss cannot be peeked into."

The laughter stopped abruptly, the tone turning cold suddenly: "Therefore, who buried the corpses is not important at all. What is important is that the game is still continuing."

"Speaking of which," Morax's voice returned to that slow, cold cruelty.

"I almost forgot the main business. Nuo La Xi En Port, how have you built it? That little wolf cub Giske's claws are fast enough; Crystal Horn Bay is already flying his wolf-head flag."

The image on the opposite side of the crystal ball seemed to ripple with playfulness.

"Once the port opens, those 'righteous warriors' who sniff the copper smell will bring their bulging money bags and dreams of getting rich to dock."

"Your docks, taverns, black markets... and those 'special' supplies, are they all ready to make the gold coins jingle?"

His tone carried a hint of playful reminder:

"Don't keep our front-line overseer waiting. If the channel he bled to tear open doesn't have a steady stream of 'funding' flowing in... the next thing that shatters won't just be a teacup."

"Ha!" Su Lai De's laughter came from the crystal ball, short and dry, like a broken bone. "That cub was thrown into that stone graveyard last year, less than a year in total, and his claws are itching to step over my shoulders?"

His voice dropped, carrying a kind of viscous, calculating chill:

"However... that ruin, in the end, is also a good sickle in the Great Duke's hand to cut the adventurers' money bags. The sharper the sickle is ground, the more gold it cuts. This time, I can pretend I didn't see his little tricks."

After a brief silence, his tone became light, but even colder:

"After all, delaying the gold river from flowing into the Great Duke's pocket... that sin is much heavier than a mere port, don't you think?"

"These are not the main points I'm looking for you for." Morax's voice dropped suddenly, like a stone falling into an ice cellar. "The ships Sha Lu Te built over there simply cannot be used; twenty have already sunk this month.

Weilna has changed her mind now; she wants to restart the dock and build ships in the middle reaches of the Mu River, and then go upstream to meet the three legions of Sha Lu Te that are trapped in the depths of the Rift Stone Continent."

He paused for a moment, as if weighing every word that followed.

"But Shadow Claw is dead. Five days ago, in the nameless water area on the west side of the Poisonous Miasma Sea. I personally went to see the scene... there were only floating broken wooden boards and several Lizardman corpses bloated beyond recognition.

The ship is gone, the cargo is gone, even the bloodstains that should have been on the sea surface were licked clean by the tide."

The voice in the crystal ball was stained with a layer of rare solemnity:

"This is not an accident, Morax. Someone, under our noses, has... chopped off the 'hand' the Great Duke reached toward the Rift Stone Continent. And it was done cleanly and neatly, without leaving a single thread that could be traced."

"What we need is not a fleet," Morax's voice was like steel wire quenched in ice, "but fangs that can tear through wind and waves and also tear through some people's 'sickles.' On the chessboard of the Rift Stone Continent, we cannot rely solely on the few pawns Giske has crossed the river with."

The halo of the crystal ball swayed slightly, reflecting the cold calculation in his eyes:

"Giske's claws are already stuck in the city wall, his army is now like a tired wolf, needing to lie down to lick its wounds, and also needing fresh meat thrown in front of it.

But if the meat we throw over is always touched by someone else's knife and fork first... then this wolf will sooner or later starve to death and become someone else's prey."

He paused, every word nailed extremely steadily:

"Therefore, the next batch of ships must be armed to the teeth. They must be able to transport supplies, and also, when necessary... drag the 'fishermen' who shouldn't appear on the shipping lane into the abyss, net and all.

The interests of the Rift Stone Continent must be guarded by sharks we raise ourselves, rather than relying on the sampans others give as charity."

"Transfer manpower? Supplies?" Su Lai De's voice came through the crystal ball, carrying a kind of cold hardness dulled by reality.

"I only have the hammer to tear down the east wall, no bricks to patch the west wall. The Sea Elves cut off all transport contracts last month; they smelled the blood, and their wings folded faster than anyone else's."

He laughed shortly, without any amusement: "As for the Great Duke's territory? Those who can hold swords have long been filled into the cracks of various planes. What's left are either old bones that can't move, or cubs that haven't been weaned.

And the Lizardmen..." he paused, his tone almost sarcastic, "their scales were not born to fight in salt water. The last long voyage proved that the deep sea swallowing them is easier than demons biting through Ogre shields."

The halo of the crystal ball seemed to dim a bit: "The reality is, Morax, we don't have 'fangs' that can be launched immediately.

The game of the Rift Stone Continent must be supported by the pieces already on the board, or you must find other 'shipbuilding wood'."

"Wait, old friend." Morax's voice dropped suddenly, but revealed a hint of shrewd brightness, as if a match had been struck in the dark.

"Things might not be at a dead end. That kid Giske dug up something interesting in the ruins of Crystal Horn Bay; he mentioned a kind of 'Crabman,' a crustacean species, born to handle ropes and wind and waves, knowing more about navigation than ten Lizardmen tied together."

"Fine." Su Lai De's voice mixed with a hint of resigned fatigue, like an old bowstring bent under pressure.

"I'll go find those long-eared shell peddlers to try my luck again. There are always some 'unrecorded' old ships hidden under their docks; as long as the gold coins jingle loud enough, even their elder's crown can be bought as a ship's wheel."

He let out a long breath, the breath seemingly able to pass through the crystal ball, carrying heavy smoke and calculation:

"But this price... I'm afraid it will scrape clean the last bit of gold powder in the corner of the Great Duke's treasury. You'd better pray that what Giske dug up in the ruins is worth this price."

After a brief silence, his tone became cold and hard again:

"Ships, I will find a way to get them. Tell Aequilon to prepare his hammer and abacus. As for the Crabmen... by the time the first ship arrives, he'd better have tamed the new 'Crab Sailors'."

"After all," he added one last sentence, his voice so low it was almost self-talk, "if the treasury is empty, it must be filled with other things. The vortex of the Rift Stone Continent is now something even we ourselves are about to be rolled into."