Chapter 771: Surge of the Nether Energy

Fifty miles northeast of Jinzhou City is White Wolf Fort.

The fort's walls were newly built last autumn, standing two zhang high and one zhang two thick, with four Hongwu Type-2 cannons mounted on the parapet.

The fort's commander, surnamed Han, was a veteran from Liaodong.

At this moment he stood on the wall, staring at an abnormal dark-blue mist on the northern horizon.

The mist was moving.

Slowly, but it was indeed advancing toward the fort's walls.

"How far away is it?"

He asked the lookout beside him.

"Less than three li… wait, the mist is speeding up!"

The lookout's voice changed tone.

"It's not mist! It's a beast horde! A beast horde covering the sky and earth!"

Commander Han snatched the telescope.

In the tube, the true form of that "mist" finally became clear.

It was a tide composed of tens of thousands of mutant beasts.

There were the "Tramplers" he had seen before, the "Spitters" that spewed acid, and many more he had never seen—creatures resembling wild dogs but covered head to toe in bone spikes, the "Spike Hounds".

As they ran, the dust they kicked up mixed with the faint dark-blue light emanating from their bodies, making them look like a moving mist from afar.

And behind the beast horde…

Commander Han's breath stopped.

Row after row of silent Ironbone War Slaves.

Their number was at least three hundred.

They did not run, but marched in orderly steps, advancing with the beast tide.

Further back, several huge, slowly writhing shadows could be faintly seen.

Those were Burrowing Beasts.

There were at least five of them.

"Fire!"

Commander Han roared hoarsely.

"Load all cannons with grapeshot!"

"Archers forward! Dip arrowheads in fire oil!"

"Hurry! Hurry!"

Inside the fort, urgent drumbeats sounded.

Soldiers rushed onto the wall, and the cannons began adjusting their aim.

But everyone's hands were trembling.

They had fought in battles and seen blood.

But they had never seen a formation like this.

This… formation that seemed to swallow the whole land.

The beast tide entered within two li.

The hand Commander Han had raised began to sweat.

One and a half li.

He could see the corrosive saliva dripping from the mouths of the Spike Hounds at the front, eating away at the ground.

One li.

"Fire!"

The four cannons roared in unison.

The grapeshot exploded in the air, turning into countless iron pellets that sprayed into the beast horde.

The front ranks of mutant beasts collapsed in swaths.

But the beasts behind trampled over their fallen kin, their speed undiminished.

"Reload!"

The cannoneers fumbled to swab the barrels, load powder, and ram the shot.

By then, the beast tide had already surged to within half a li.

The archers began to fire arrows.

The oil-soaked arrows struck the beast horde, igniting several spots.

But the flames were quickly stamped out by the beasts surging forward.

"They won't stop!"

A soldier screamed.

"They don't fear death at all!"

Three hundred paces.

Commander Han saw something even more terrifying.

The Spike Hounds at the very front suddenly began tearing at each other.

It was not internal strife.

They were… merging.

Two Spike Hounds collided, their bone spikes interlocking, flesh fusing, and in an instant they became a larger, more twisted mass of meat.

The mass of flesh kept charging forward, continuing to devour the other aberrant beasts along the way.

It grew larger and larger.

When it charged within a hundred steps of the fortress wall, it had become a three-story-tall mound of flesh, its whole body bristling with waving tentacles and bone spikes.

"Cannons! Aim at that thing!"

Han Qian Zong's voice was almost torn apart.

But it was too late.

The flesh mountain slammed into the fortress wall.

The entire wall shuddered violently.

Bricks and stones shattered.

The two cannons on the wall top were shaken out of position, their muzzles askew.

The tentacles on the flesh mountain grabbed the battlements and began to climb upward.

"Fire oil! Pour fire oil!"

Bucket after bucket of fire oil was poured down.

Arrows rained down.

The flesh mountain was set ablaze, turning into a huge fireball.

But it did not stop climbing.

Burning and howling, it forced its way up onto the wall top.

The tentacles swept sideways.

Five soldiers were swept off at the waist and thrown off the city wall.

Bone spikes pierced.

Another three were pinned to the battlements.

"Hold fast!"

Han Qian Zong drew his sword and rushed forward.

With one stroke he severed a tentacle, and its viscous, foul-smelling fluid sprayed all over him.

At the center of the flesh mountain, a huge maw suddenly split open.

It was not to bite.

But to spew.

Han Qian Zong saw a gloomy blue light gathering in the mouth.

"Disperse—"

His roar could only utter half a word.

A column of gloomy blue light shot from the maw, sweeping across the wall top.

Soldiers swept by the light column couldn't even utter a scream.

Their bodies vaporized instantly.

Armor, weapons, flesh and blood—all turned into a wisp of green smoke.

The light column lasted three breaths.

After three breaths, the flesh mountain crashed to the ground, melting into a puddle of pus that quickly dissolved.

But the wall top was already left empty in a large area.

Twenty-seven soldiers.

Not even ashes remained.

Han Qian Zong knelt on the ground, staring at the spot beside him where only half a boot remained.

That was his deputy.

Just an hour earlier, they had been discussing the night shift change.

"Qian Zong! The war slaves are coming up!"

The surviving soldiers' screams pulled him back to reality.

At the base of the wall, the iron-bone war slaves had already charged up.

They needed no ladders.

The front-rank war slaves crouched, and those behind stepped onto their shoulders.

One layer, two layers.

In the blink of an eye they formed a human ladder.

The war slave at the top leapt and grabbed hold of the wall top.

"Kill!"

Han Qian Zong, eyes red, rushed forward.

His blade struck the war slave's crystal bone, leaving only a white mark.

The war slave slashed back with a backhand.

Han Qian Zong barely blocked it, his tiger's mouth splitting open.

He saw two points of gloomy blue fire in the war slave's eye sockets.

Cold, indifferent.

It was as if he were looking not at a living person, but at a piece of wood that needed to be split.

"Damn you!"

He suddenly lowered his head and drew a handgun from his waist.

This is a flintlock handgun prototype from the Investigation of Things Institute, with little powder and insufficient power; he has always found it cumbersome.

But now, he pressed it against the war slave's chest and pulled the trigger.

Bang!

The lead bullet struck the crystal bone but didn't pierce through.

But the impact forced the war slave to retreat half a step.

Just that half-step gap.

Captain Han saw the gap in the war slave's crystal bone framework at its chest.

There, the dark energy core was pulsing.

He threw away his knife and gun, picked up a spear from the ground.

It wasn't an armor-piercing spear.

Just an ordinary spear with an iron tip.

He thrust with all his strength, aiming at that gap, and drove it in.

The moment the spear tip pierced the core.

The war slave's movements froze.

The blue fire in its eye sockets flashed violently.

Then it exploded violently.

Not an explosion.

But countless dark blue points of light burst forth from within it.

Captain Han was flung by the blast, slamming hard into the wall bricks.

At least two of his ribs were broken.

But he saw that the war slave had collapsed.

Its chest was torn open, the core shattered into fragments.

The gap...

He coughed blood and let out a hoarse laugh.

They have a weakness!

Stab the chest! Stab that glowing—

Before he could finish,

At the base of the wall, the ground suddenly bulged upward.

Five spots.

All rose at once.

Earth-Digging Beasts!

A soldier shouted in despair.

But it was already too late.

Five Earth-Digging Beasts burst out of the ground simultaneously.

They did not climb the wall.

Instead, they opened their mouths, bristling with rotating crystal drills, aiming at the fortress wall's foundations.

Dark blue mist sprayed simultaneously from their five huge mouths.

Not the slow-spreading poisonous mist from before.

But a concentrated, high-intensity corrosive energy flow.

The moment the mist touched the wall's base,

the bricks began to melt.

Not shattering, but melting like wax and flowing away.

The wall's structure began to collapse.

Retreat!

Captain Han roared.

Everyone! Fall back from the wall!

But there was no time.

The entire stretch of fortress wall, twenty zhang long, began to tilt inward under the concentrated spray of the five Earth-Digging Beasts.

Bricks rained down like rain.

Soldiers screamed as they jumped down.

Some broke their legs, others were struck by falling stones.

Captain Han climbed to his feet, trying to organize a retreat.

Then he saw.

The scene beyond the wall.

The beast tide had already surged through the gap in the collapsed wall.

Iron-boned war slaves were pouring in through the breach.

And farther back, deep within the dark blue mist,

there were even more, larger shadows slowly emerging.

It's over...

He muttered.

White Wolf Fort, we can't hold it.

No.

Not just White Wolf Fort.

It's the entire Jinzhou defense line.

All will be lost.

Three hundred li outside, the Daughter River defense line.

The same scene is unfolding everywhere.

Twelve forts, within three hours, seven were breached by the same tactic.

Not breached by a frontal assault.

It was the subterranean beasts concentrating their spray, melting and destroying the wall foundations.

The sturdy cities and fortresses the Ming relied on, under that high-intensity yin-energy corrosion, became as fragile as paper.

The routed troops fled south like a flood.

Behind them, a slow-advancing azure mist.

Where the mist passed, vegetation withered, the land hardened, and rivers turned an eerie blue.

That is not occupation.

It is contamination.

It turned the Ming's years‑long defense line into a dead zone where no living thing may approach.

By the time the news reached Jinzhou, it was already deep night.

Zu Dashou stood on the city wall, gazing at the northern horizon where the azure haze drew ever closer.

Beacon fires lit up one after another.

Each one signified the fall of a fort.

"General..."

The deputy commander's voice trembled.

"White Wolf Fort, Black Mountain Fort, Stone Mouth Fort… all lost."

"The twelve forts along the Daughter River now have only five still holding out."

"General Xu Da from Jizhen sent an urgent order commanding us… to contract the line and fall back to defend Jinzhou, Ningyuan, and Shanhaiguan."

Zu Dashou said nothing.

His hand pressed against the battlement, veins standing out.

Retreat?

Where to retreat to?

Behind Jinzhou lies Ningyuan; behind Ningyuan lies Shanhaiguan.

Beyond Shanhaiguan…

is the North China Plain.

the heartland of the Great Ming.

"We cannot retreat."

He shouted hoarsely.

"Order all routed troops to gather at Jinzhou."

"Send men to Ningyuan and Shanhaiguan to request reinforcements."

"Then send someone… to respond to Heaven."

He turned and looked at the deputy commander.

"Tell His Majesty."

"Jinzhou will be held to the last soldier."

"But please ask him…"

His voice choked a little.

"to make preparations early."

That night.

In Ying Tian, the Wuying Hall.

Eight‑hundred‑li urgent military reports piled up one after another on Zhu Yuanzhang's desk.

He flipped through them one by one.

White Wolf Fort fell.

Black Mountain Fort fell.

Stone Mouth Fort fell.

Casualties: seven thousand three hundred.

Lost territory: one hundred twenty li.

Contaminated zone expansion: cannot be estimated.

His hand rested on the final report.

It was Zu Dashou's own handwriting.

The script was hurried, blurred in places by sweat.

But the last line was written with unusual clarity:

"I, your subject, wish to live and die with Jinzhou, but I implore Your Majesty to consider an escape route early, and not let Liaodong weigh on your mind."

Zhu Yuanzhang set down the military report.

He walked to outside the hall.

The night was deep, the starry sky desolate.

But he knew that, at this moment, in the north, beneath that expanse of stars, it was already hell.

"Liu Ji."

He called out.

Liu Ji, who had been guarding outside the hall, hurried forward.

"Draft the edict."

Zhu Yuanzhang's voice was very calm.

Calm to a frightening degree.

"First, order Xu Da to abandon all positions north of Jizhou and have the entire army retreat to defend the Great Wall."

"Second, order Tang He, starting today, to conscript all civilian ships from Zhili, Shandong, and Henan, and concentrate them at Tianjin Port."

"Third, order the Ministry of Works to halt all railway projects, redirecting all artisans and materials to build warships."

Liu Ji suddenly lifted his head.

"Your Majesty, what are you—"

"Making the worst preparations."

Zhu Yuanzhang gazed toward the north.

"If Jinzhou cannot be held—"

"If the Great Wall cannot be held—"

His fingers slowly clenched.

"We need a place to retreat to."

"The sea, perhaps, is the last road to survival."

The night wind swept through the hall corridors, the lanterns swaying.

Light and shadow flickered uncertainly on Zhu Yuanzhang's face.

As if the fate of the mountains and rivers behind him.

Swaying, on the verge of dying out.