Chapter 743: First Volume, Chapter 743: Psychological Torture Tactics

First Volume, Chapter 743: Psychological Torture Tactics

Beside him, Li Chou, watching the gloomy Ma Tingyun, let out a sigh as well.

"My lord, no one could have foreseen Lü Ci leading his men in bandit defection—stop blaming yourself. Right now, defending the city is paramount."

Ma Tingyun couldn't help but shake his head with a bitter smile: "I don't regret Lü Ci's bandit defection—I regret that, out of brotherhood, I softened my heart and allowed Lü Ci and his scattered soldiers and wanderers to enter. Had I been ruthless back then and barred him from entering, it would have been perfectly justified—how could the garrison's morale have been so ruined?"

Li Chou's heart was equally heavy; he had thought more men meant more strength—with these eight thousand troops, Xiongying Ridge would be invincible.

Who could have imagined that open field army and garrison troops were entirely different?

Lü Ci and his wanderers spent their days roaming the wilderness, engaging enemy armies in close combat; they not only forged extraordinary courage and spirit, but also grew arrogant in heart.

To Lü Ci, this fortress defense tactic was nothing but hiding like a turtle—his inner resentment festered into disaster.

The two thousand cavalry Lü Ci took away mattered little; what truly struck a fatal blow to the defense was, ultimately, the word "morale."

Looking at the catapults rising one after another outside the city, Li Chou shook his head: "My lord, look—so many catapults, even for besieging Wang Du, this would be unprecedented."

"Since Qin Feng arrived at the Qian Xian Zhan Chang, he has never sent a single soldier to launch a direct assault. Yet his long-range attacks have been relentless. Qin Feng is truly the wealthiest warlord of Liang Kingdom—this wasteful tactic of consuming resources without restraint, even the Liang Kingdom's Main General couldn't afford."

This struck right at Ma Tingyun's core.

If Qin Feng had sent troops to storm the city, Ma Tingyun had absolute confidence: every Liang soldier who came would die. But… Qin Feng that bastard refused to follow any conventional siege tactics. The frontline troops all adopted a defensive posture, wary of sudden attacks from within the city.

And the actual siege force? … Craftsmen!

The Tianji Camp craftsmen were master artisans rivaling imperial artisans, their mechanical skills highly refined—they could build a single catapult in hours.

And the "ammunition" for these catapults? Even more varied and overwhelming.

Netted stones—one launch scattered into dozens of fragments, raining destruction upon the city.

There were also stones carved into perfect spheres; once launched, they rolled along the ground, smashing into walls, collapsing houses and killing men—impossible to stop.

Early on, some fearless garrison soldiers tried to block the rolling stones—only to be crushed into meat paste by the immense kinetic force.

Of course, these two types of projectiles could still be avoided using improvised cover.

This Qin Feng, to capture the city, would use any vile trick—he invented the most deadly weapon of all: the stink bomb!

Qin Feng's thousands of soldiers produced vast amounts of feces daily; Qin Feng ordered them collected. Mixed with urine, frozen into massive ice blocks overnight, they were launched into the fortress at dawn, when temperatures were still low.

As time passed and temperatures rose by noon, the ice blocks melted, spreading filth everywhere—the entire fortress reeked unbearably.

Compared to stones that could crush you instantly, these filthy, disgusting things inflicted far more terrifying psychological torture.

Now, a rumor had spread through the city…

Better to die than keep defending like this…

"Damn it!"

Ma Tingyun slammed his fist into the City Wall, ignoring the blood pouring from his fractured knuckles, glaring fiercely at Qin Feng's FrontlineCampOne, teeth clenched in rage.

"If we keep consuming like this, we'll have strength but nowhere to use it. The body can endure—but the mind will collapse first."

"When will the reinforcements arrive?!"

Watching Ma Tingyun, on the verge of collapse, Li Chou had no solution—launching an offensive meant suicide, while huddling inside meant enduring Qin Feng's endless, tireless torment.

And… the number of catapults was simply too great, each surrounded by moats and horse-rejection formations.

Even sending cavalry out to sabotage them yielded minimal results.

If this continued, Xiongying Ridge Fortress would become the first garrison in history to lose to a group of craftsmen.

At that moment, four more carts of projectiles arrived at the front line.

Too far to see clearly, Ma Tingyun and Li Chou could not tell what they were—but their hearts filled with dread.

Qin Feng's nose was wrapped in layers of cloth, yet he was still reeling from the stench of the cart's contents.

Beside him, Ning Hu couldn't stop gagging.

"Qin… Qin brother, your tactics are too cruel!"

"For days, all the cattle and sheep consumed by the army—their organs and blood—have been stored in giant iron pots, slow-simmered over low fire to accelerate organ decay…"

"This stench rivals, if not surpasses, that of rotting corpses!"

Qin Feng dared not laugh—because if he did, he'd likely faint on the spot.

To hasten decay, Qin Feng added numerous seasonings—feces, rotten eggs, and more.

After a night of freezing, the rotting matter couldn't fully solidify into ice blocks, but it had congealed—no longer leaking juice.

Qin Feng immediately ordered craftsmen to pack the rot into sacks and launch the meticulously prepared stink bombs into the fortress via catapults.

"Let's see how long these garrison troops can hold out before they're driven completely mad!"

As sack after sack of rotting matter slammed onto the fortress ground, the already nearly broken garrison made no move to clean them up.

After days of harassment, the entire fortress was nearly coated in filth.

Added to that, water was precious—could not be wasted to rinse—so the fortress stench now rivaled a latrine.

But with Qin Feng's meticulously prepared stink bombs now landing, this overpowering, acrid reek shattered the garrison's very understanding of "stench."

And as temperatures rose, the odor grew even stronger.

A young garrison soldier broke down completely, screaming hysterically: "I've had enough—I'd rather die on the battlefield than be suffocated by this stink!"

"Qin Feng, I'll f*** your grandpa!"

"Have the guts to send troops to storm the city! Throwing this stinking rot into our walls—is that even a real tactic?!"

Another garrison soldier, driven mad by torment, collapsed on the ground, wailing uncontrollably.

Standing atop the City Wall, Ma Tingyun held his breath, staring at the unspeakable horror of the fortress, tears welling but unable to fall.

"Li Chou… muster the troops—we fight Qin Feng to the death!"

Ma Tingyun knew stepping out meant certain death—but he had no choice but to fight to the end!