Chapter 764: Chen's Ascension

The candles in Ying Tian Wu Ying Dian burned brightly into the latter half of the night.

Zhu Yuanzhang set down the urgent report from the Jinzhou front line, his fingertips pressing on his throbbing temple.

The handwriting on the report was rough, reeking of blood: "Newly appeared bandits, humanoid but covered in bone armor, blades and arrows hardly wound them, great strength and swift, feeling no pain or fear. My troops, an entire squad, were wiped out overnight; only this report remains."

Only Liu Ji attended by his side in the hall, his expression equally grim.

"This is the seventh occurrence."

Liu Ji said in a low voice.

"Liaodong, Jizhen, Xuanfu—successive reports have encountered these 'bone demons.' Frontline soldiers, upon first sight, are often terrified."

Zhu Yuanzhang did not respond.

He walked to the huge map on the north wall, his gaze falling on the blank area east of the Light Curtain.

Chen Dynasty.

It has been a full four months since the last reception of that weak, mutated pulse signal.

According to the previous rhythm, the new communication window should be these few days.

"How is the Investigation of Things Institute's research on the 'resonance' of exotic metal progressing?"

He asked, his voice somewhat hoarse.

"Your Majesty, we have achieved initial success. We can make the exotic metal heat and glow at a specific frequency, but we are still far from turning it into a stable discharge 'electrogun.' Controlling the buildup and release of energy remains the difficulty."

Liu Ji paused.

"General Xu Da's letter asks whether we can seek aid from beyond the Light Curtain…?"

The hall fell silent.

A request for aid.

Those two words weighed on Zhu Yuanzhang's chest like a stone.

He understood what Liu Ji and Xu Da meant.

What they hoped for was a 'divine weapon' or 'wondrous method' that could directly reverse the battle situation.

But Zhu Yuanzhang knew better: even if the Chen Dynasty were willing to give, whatever could pass through the Light Curtain would only be more fragmented knowledge that they themselves would have to painstakingly decipher.

And time waits for no one.

"Wait."

Zhu Yuanzhang finally uttered only one word.

"Wait for the next signal."

His eyes fixed firmly on that blank spot on the map.

"Let's see what they… can give us this time."

Under the same starry sky, east of the Light Curtain.

On the top layer of the Chen Dynasty capital's observatory platform, Zhang Cheng's white hair stirred in the night wind.

The huge crystal telescope before him was aimed at the western chaotic energy turbulence zone.

"How long until the window opens?"

"Less than an hour."

The young observatory staff stared intently at the flickering crystal panel before him.

"But this time the turbulence intensity is three times that of last time, and the signal distortion rate may exceed fifty percent."

"Then adjust the focusing array, using seventy percent of the energy to maintain channel stability, and transmit only the core content."

Zhang Cheng's voice was steady.

"Is the content finalized?"

"It is."

The observatory staff called up a short list.

"As per the sovereign's instructions, only three items will be sent: the complete structural parameters of the momentum‑energy resonance armor‑piercing spear, the portable design diagram of the yin‑energy purification field, and… the early warning about the 'Light Curtain weak point.'"

Zhang Cheng's gaze lingered on the last item for a moment.

"Place the warning information last, encoded with the lowest priority. The first two items must be guaranteed delivery."

"Yes."

The observatory staff began rapid operations.

Inside the crystal telescope, complex momentum‑energy patterns lit up one by one, emitting a low hum.

Energy was gathering.

At the other end of the capital, the Heavenly Works Institute's Seventh Workshop was brightly lit.

Hundreds of artisans bustled around a newly assembled production line.

Hammers with a steady rhythm forged the heated exotic‑metal alloy blanks into spearheads.

But the crucial step comes next.

The forged spearheads were sent into a sealed chamber.

Inside the chamber, countless golden momentum‑energy beams, as fine as hairs, swept across the spearhead surface at a specific frequency.

Each sweep caused the metal's internal crystal lattice to undergo minute adjustments, gradually synchronizing with the preset "resonance frequency."

"What is the pass rate for the forty‑seventh test batch?"

Gongsun Sheng leaned on his cane, standing before the control console.

"Ninety‑three percent! Master Gongsun, we've done it!"

The responsible artisan, excited, his voice trembling.

"The scrap rate has finally dropped below ten percent! The stability of the energy imprint also meets the standard!"

Gongsun Sheng's face did not show much joy.

He picked up an armor‑pierreing spear whose engraving had just been completed.

The spear shaft was icy cold, yet gripping it one could faintly sense a subtle tremor within, a stored power waiting to be released.

"How much daily output?"

"Running at full capacity, this production line can output a hundred twenty per day."

"Not enough."

Gongsun Sheng set down the long spear.

"Northward Aspiration Army report: the front has confirmed encountering a new type of ghost‑energy bone‑armor unit. Marshal Yue demands that, within three months, at least five hundred be delivered."

The artisan's face stiffened.

"This… the raw materials, especially the quota for exotic iron ingots and stabilizing crystals…"

"I will go apply to the ruler."

Gongsun Sheng turned around.

"What you need to do is, before I obtain the quota, prepare the blueprints and debugging plan for the second production line."

He walked out of the workshop, stepping into the darkest night before dawn.

In the direction of the distant barracks, faint morning drill orders could be heard.

Gongsun Sheng raised his head, looking toward the Observation Platform.

He knew that at this moment, some kind of information was attempting to breach that violent light curtain and reach another world now bleeding.

Inside the Observation Platform, the atmosphere suddenly grew tense.

"The channel stability is dropping! Forty percent… thirty‑five…"

The observer's voice carried a hint of anxiety.

"How complete is the information stream transmission?"

"First item, structural parameters, transmission complete. Second item, design drawings, eighty percent complete… uh‑oh, turbulence peak!"

The crystal telescope shuddered violently.

On the panel, the curve representing channel stability plunged cliff‑like.

"Force‑maintain! Pour all backup energy into it!"

Zhang Cheng shouted sternly.

"Impossible! Backup energy can only last ten breaths!"

"Ten breaths is enough! Keep transmitting! Send as much as you can!"

Golden light surged wildly within the crystal telescope, fiercely opposing the chaotic cyan turbulence flowing in from the west.

The progress bar on the panel climbed with difficulty.

Eighty‑five percent… ninety…

"Stability has fallen below ten percent! The channel is about to collapse!"

"Transmission complete!"

Almost as the observer shouted.

"Boom—"

A low, muffled thud.

The crystal telescope's light suddenly went out.

The panel flashed a blinding red light.

"The channel is cut off."

The observer collapsed into the chair, cold sweat soaking his back.

"How much of the information… got sent out?"

Zhang Cheng's voice sounded a little hoarse.

"Second item, the design drawings, are ninety‑two percent complete. Third item… the warning information, only less than a tenth of the beginning has been encoded and transmitted."

The observer looked at the incomplete transmission log.

In the warning information column, only a few fragmented phrases were recorded:

"... weak point… cycle… possibly penetrates…"

The rest is garbled code.

Zhang Cheng closed his eyes and remained silent for a long time.

"Seal the transmission record and submit it to the ruler."

He turned and gazed out the window.

In the eastern horizon, a hint of fish‑belly white had already appeared.

"We have done all we can."

"What remains…"

He looked toward the western intangible yet death‑ and hope‑separating light curtain.

"Now it's up to them."

Martial Hero Hall.

At daybreak, a eunuch came rushing in, almost stumbling.

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty! The east… the east has light!"

Zhu Yuanzhang sprang to his feet and took a few steps to the outside of the hall.

Liu Ji followed closely behind.

Only seen at the southeastern horizon, the sky that originally faced the light curtain and had been chaotic year-round now revealed an abnormal, slightly twisted pale gold halo.

That light lasted less than ten breaths.

It vanished like a wiped-away trace, leaving no trace.

But at the moment the light faded.

Zhu Yuanzhang felt a sudden scorch at his brow.

As if something scorching was forcibly shoved into his mind.

Fragmented images.

Twisted lines.

Complex numbers and formulas.

Vast, incomprehensible fragments of information, like a bursting dam's flood, slammed into his consciousness.

He let out a muffled groan and gripped the doorframe.

"Your Majesty!"

Liu Ji exclaimed.

Zhu Yuanzhang raised his hand to stop him, veins jumping at his forehead, sweat instantly soaking his inner robe.

In that flood of information, he desperately tried to capture and remember.

He 'saw' the structure of a spear.

Every component, every energy circuit.

He 'saw' the design drawings of a delicate, portable purification device.

Although fragmented, the core principle was clear.

He also 'saw' a few fragmented characters.

"……thin……point……around……penetrate……"

Penetrate?

What penetrate?

Zhu Yuanzhang flung his eyes open, gold embers still lingering in the depths of his pupils.

"Summon…… summon all officials of the Thus line: Investigation of Things Institute."

His voice, hoarse from overuse, carried an unmistakable urgency.

"Come see me at once."

He turned and walked back into the hall, his steps a little unsteady but his spine ramrod straight.

Liu Ji watched his back, then glanced eastward at the sky that had returned to normal.

There, it seemed as if nothing had happened.

But he knew that some things were no longer the same.