Could it be that she was a powerful figure in disguise, whose true identity was discerned by the quartermaster? They cast suspicious glances at the quartermaster, who had never shown any extraordinary acumen. The quartermaster’s position was secured not only by his abilities, but mostly due to his connections with the Su family.
The quartermaster himself was uncertain why he had brought out the Snake Emperor. It seemed to be a spur-of-the-moment decision. This sniper rifle appeared ordinary, but it was actually a weapon left behind by a fallen master, a masterpiece with power reaching the eighth level and balanced attributes. It was incomparable to Qian Ye’s seventh-level rifle, which, aside from its power, was subpar in every other aspect.
However, after the master’s demise, the rifle’s power diminished, and it barely qualified as a seventh-level weapon. To use it, one still needed to possess the capability of an eighth-level warrior.
Rumors circulated that this rifle, with its innate pride, sealed its own power after its master’s death, unwilling to be wielded by mere mortals. Though the tale was unbelievable, the gun indeed remained dormant after being stored away.
A warrior capable of wielding an eighth-level weapon, even if drained after a single shot, would need to be at least fifteenth level. Such a warrior could easily obtain a decent seventh-level weapon, so why would they bother with this flawed piece?
A seventh-level gun with requirements far exceeding its power was worth much less, perhaps the price of a fine sixth-level weapon.
The younger generation of the Su family, like Suyueyuan, already possessed seventh-level guns and saw no value in a mere reputation without practicality. Thus, it remained unused until today, when Lingen City faced unprecedented peril, and Su Dingqian decided to open the armory and arm the populace.
Yatong placed her hand on the rifle, and suddenly, it emitted a clear, phoenix-like sound. All the origin arrays on the gun lit up, without a single omission!
Even the most inexperienced person could tell that Yatong had complete control over the weapon. Shock spread through the quartermaster’s office, followed by reverence. No one dared to look at Yatong casually. A warrior capable of wielding an eighth-level weapon could easily sweep them all away with a wave of their hand.
“Good gun. Thank you,” Yatong spoke briefly.
“Wait!” the quartermaster exclaimed.
“Hmm? Are you not going to give it to me?”
The quartermaster waved his hands, “No, of course not! It’s just that this gun has always had some issues. I once saw several masters test it, and it emitted a deep, rough roar, like a dragon. Not this sound, right?”
Yatong smiled slightly, “In my hands, it sings like this.”
As Yatong left, the quartermaster was still pondering her final words.
The battle arrived as scheduled. Past midnight, the strange and terrifying army reached the outskirts of Lingen City. After a brief rest, they launched their assault, showing no signs of fatigue.
Leading the charge were the four-legged, armored warriors. Holding thick shields, they advanced steadily towards Lingen City.
Suddenly, fires blazed within Lingen City, followed by strange whistling sounds and then earth-shaking explosions!
The heavy cannons of Lingen City fired first, striking the advancing troops.
Qian Ye crouched on the city wall, observing the battle. The wall offered little security, merely concealing his presence. Lingen City’s walls, more like a wooden barricade, could be easily breached by any fourth or fifth-level warrior, let alone the ironclad warriors.
Amidst the explosions and smoke, Qian Ye felt a sinking heart. The cannon barrage, though impressive, caused minimal damage. Only those near the center of the blast were thrown, while most staggered about.
After the initial cannon fire, the battlefield fell silent. Lingen City’s heavy cannons were formidable, rivaling the Empire’s. However, they suffered from poor accuracy, range, and slow reloading, similar to Qian Ye’s origin rifle.
As the smoke cleared, a collective gasp arose from the city wall. Out of nearly a thousand ironclad warriors, only a hundred lay on the ground, most struggling to rise. Only those directly hit by the shells were truly incapacitated, a mere dozen in total.
With the heavy cannons performing so poorly, the defenders felt their origin rifles were woefully inadequate.
Nearly a minute later, the cannons fired again, raining shells on the ironclad warriors. But this time, no one held out hope. Indeed, the second volley killed only a handful. One more round, and the ironclad warriors would reach the city.
Bang! An origin bullet streaked through the darkness, hitting an ironclad warrior. A guard, unable to contain his fear, had fired prematurely. His aim was good, and the warrior was slow, resulting in a hit.
But the result was grim. The warrior, knocked to the ground, rose again, his helmet dented, dark blood oozing from the gaps. Despite this, he continued to march, soon matching the pace of his unit.
This was terrifying. The uniform formation, synchronized steps, and the ground tremors created an oppressive pressure. The guards on the wall breathed heavily, hearts pounding.
Qian Ye, having fought countless battles, knew this was bad. The defenders’ morale was wavering, and a surprise enemy success could shatter their will.
Frowning, Qian Ye tightened his grip on his rifle. He realized the gun in his hand, not Thunder or Shadow Eulogy, was inaccurate at a hundred meters.
Seeing the defenders’ faltering morale, the enemy sounded a somber horn.
Several more high-pitched, resonant sounds pierced the air, causing the defenders’ ears to ring.
Three war beasts raised their heads and charged, running at Lingen City.
These colossal beasts, even at a trot, were faster than agile shadow leopards. Lingen City’s walls and buildings were no obstacle. Qian Ye had no doubt that if unopposed, these beasts could tear through the city, leaving three vast paths in their wake.
Gunfire erupted, merging into a constant roar. Defenders fired relentlessly, pouring ammunition onto the ironclad warriors. The cannons boomed, with some shells targeting the ironclad warriors and others the war beasts.
One shell hit a beast squarely, blowing off a piece of armor and exposing its brown skin. Yet, the beast showed no injury beyond a black mark. It continued its charge, undeterred.
The cannon hit was akin to a mosquito bite to the war beast, further demoralizing the defenders. The hit was worse than a miss.
Qian Ye sighed, loading a fist-sized bullet into his rifle. He knew this battle would be tough, but not this difficult.
As the war beasts neared, the fortresses on their backs began spewing fire, their warriors suppressing the city’s defenses. The defenders were pinned down, suffering heavy casualties.
The opposing commander, seeing the advantage, ordered the floating vessels to move. These were old cargo ships, not warships. Their involvement signaled overwhelming superiority.
Just as the situation seemed dire, a dragon-like roar echoed in the night, silencing even the war beasts.
Su Dingqian appeared above Lingen City, sword ablaze, like a divine weapon from hell. His appearance momentarily hushed the battlefield.
Raising his left hand, he pointed at the leading war beast, which froze, rearing and halting. It seemed ready to turn and flee.
Su Dingqian struck with his sword, a fiery red blade slicing through a kilometer, cutting the beast’s neck.
The beast screamed, flinging its fortress guards. Its neck split, blood gushing, creating a bloody rain.
Though the wound did not behead it, it was grievous. The beast, despite its strength, could not withstand such an injury.
The cheers from Lingen City were deafening, and the defenders’ morale soared, stabilizing the battle.
The death of a war beast shocked the enemy. A horn sounded, and the remaining two beasts retreated. Su Dingqian, satisfied, returned to Lingen City.
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