Chapter 170: Long-Range Bombardment

Chapter 170: Long‑Range Artillery

Having settled on a plan of action, the eight‑person squad split in two, each taking a different mission.

Chen Jian led Xie Liu, Zeng Yi and Ji Xing, three of the Sanctified Blood, forward—both to augment the drone’s field of view and to conduct artillery reconnaissance, and also to close in on the designated battlefield, ready to seize the ground the instant the monster fell, erect a fire point, and await the second squad’s support.

Meanwhile, Lei Jie, Shen Yue and He Shuo, with Li Shi in tow, were tasked with the rear‑area bombardment positions, preparing to coordinate long‑range, inter‑sight artillery fire.

When Chen Jian’s party set out, Lei Jie instantly marshaled the few who remained to begin laying the firing line.

Under the pull of the cat‑car, they smoothly hauled the 152 mm howitzer up to the high ground outside the 095 fortification.

Following the drone’s guidance, Lei Jie, clutching the matching gun crew’s sight, roughly fixed the reference bearing, while Li Shi, under Shen Yue’s and He Shuo’s direction, removed the marching brace and drove the stabilizing spade into the earth.

Thereafter, He Shuo engaged the hydraulic spade‑locking system, anchoring the cannon on the pre‑chosen firm soil, completing the simple pre‑combat preparations.

Chen Jian’s four‑man team pressed onward, and from the distance and heading data streamed back by the drone, He Shuo swiftly computed the approximate target parameters.

‘Azimuth 074‑30, elevation +15 mils, distance 15 020 ± 50 m.’

‘Copy, azimuth 074‑30, elevation +15 mils, distance 15 020 ± 50 m.’

Lei Jie answered promptly, turning the traverse and elevation coarse‑adjust mechanisms, aligning the panoramic sight’s reticle to the reference point, then feeding the parameters into the built‑in ballistic computer of the Nezha‑class mech’s war‑crown system.

‘Air temperature –1 °C, propellant temperature compensation +1.4 %, northwest wind force 3, cross‑wind correction –0.2 mils.’

‘Altitude 142 m, atmospheric density correction factor 1.02.’

While reciting the data, Lei Jie swiftly spun the fine‑adjust gears to lock in the aiming settings.

Ordinarily this would be the work of two separate specialists, but with the high‑intelligence system’s aid, a single man could shoulder the whole burden.

‘Ammunition ready!’

‘Li Shi, bring the shells and the propellant charges over!’

‘Hold fire for now, await further orders!’

‘Understood!’

Li Shi pre‑loaded the shells and propellant bags onto the automatic loader, while simultaneously Shen Yue completed the loading of the 105 mm railgun, bringing it to a pre‑charged state.

‘We are ready on this side!’

Lei Jie reported to Chen Jian:

‘Target locked, adjusting in real‑time from the drone’s feed.’

‘We can fire at any moment, awaiting your command!’

‘Copy!’

Chen Jian’s voice was steady as he replied, then added:

‘I am still eight kilometres from the target; at current speed I should reach the disembark point in five minutes.’

‘In five minutes we’ll be within five kilometres, then commence bombardment!’

‘Understood!’

Lei Jie stared intently at the drone’s display, constantly recalculating and updating the data, instantly transmitting the changes to the gun he commanded.

He knew the shells he sent skyward would largely dictate the squad’s subsequent moves, perhaps even seal the fate of their existence in this wasteland.

The stakes were colossal.

Absolutely vital!

If a single rapid volley could strip away enough of the monster’s layered armor, then under the pinpoint precision of the railgun a single shot from Shen Yue might end the battle outright.

In that case our side would gain precious time, allowing us to rendezvous with Chen Jian’s four‑man team before the Mechanist Cult reaches its planned attack point and forms its battle line, thereby forging a sturdier defense.

Time lag.

That is our greatest bargaining chip.

And whether we can cash it in—

—depends on the next five minutes.

Meanwhile, within the marching ranks of the Mechanist Cult,

the steam locomotive roared, spewing thick plumes of smoke; orderly hymns and war drums mingled with the heavy footfalls of the armored guards of the Vanguard Brigade, weaving a battle hymn that struck the soul.

Seated atop the locomotive’s lofty command tower, the Grand Archbishop constantly scanned the monsters’ movements through a telescope.

‘Eleven kilometres out, we are about to enter the toxic fog.’

‘All warriors, don your masks and hold your breath.’

‘The Holy Trinity shall grant us protection; the gale will disperse the poison, this is our perfect window!’

‘Quick, quick, quick!’

‘Let steam and gunpowder crush every heretic and beast upon this earth, and let the light of the Holy Trinity melt all evil!’

‘Raise your rifles, lift the barrels!’

‘From the high ground four kilometres away we shall establish a position, invoke the Holy Trinity’s name, and let the giant cannon rain down divine wrath!’

‘Trinity! Trinity!’

The Vanguard soldiers shouted in unison, the incense‑laden smoke spreading, and the column quickened its pace.

A nearby priest, heart aflutter, gazed at the awe‑inspiring march and could not help speaking:

‘What grandeur!’

‘Our last great expedition of this sort was over a decade ago.’

‘I still recall that we faced a level‑two monster then.’

‘The cruelty and heroism of that battle linger with me to this day.’

Hearing the priest, the Grand Archbishop exhaled softly and then said:

‘This time, no.’

‘Our strength now surpasses that of those days, and our knowledge of the monsters has changed beyond recognition.’

‘Back then we could still defeat that level‑two beast; this time we shall not fail!’

‘Only we must move faster, even faster.’

‘Those mimetic heresies still lurk, eyes like tigers; we must strike before they do.’

His words

fell, and the priest, a shade puzzled, asked:

‘Why can’t we wait until they and the monster have worn each other out, then clean up the aftermath?’

‘Do you not understand?’

The Grand Archbishop gave the priest a sidelong glance, then replied:

‘A fight with a monster cannot be reasoned with ordinary logic, and the mimetic heretics are no ordinary foes.’

‘We cannot guarantee they lack the power to slay that monster, nor can we be sure that after they do, they will arrive in time to seize the treasure within the Jinling Ruins.’

‘No one knows what lies in the Jinling Ruins, but those vast subterranean vaults—I suspect you have seen them before.’

“If we let them rush ahead into the treasury, we will be forced into an extremely passive situation.”

“So, destroying the monster is not the purpose itself; it is merely an obstacle on the path to our ultimate aim.”

“When you lack the certainty of swiftly and thoroughly eliminating the enemy, do not expect the enemy to clear the obstacles for you.”

“I think their plan is the same as ours.” “Therefore, we must be swift.”

“Because perhaps they already have.”

“Bang!”

As the archbishop’s words faded, a muffled cannon blast suddenly echoed from afar.

And immediately thereafter, a succession of booming cannonades rolled in.

“They have already moved!”

The archbishop’s expression changed, and he issued the order:

“Full speed ahead!”

“Load!”

Lei Jie shouted the command; Li Shi, acting as an impromptu loader, hurried to operate the loading machine, shoving a 53‑kilogram projectile into the breech‑locking segment, then inserting the powder charge and sealing the wedge‑type gun lock.

Then Lei Jie placed his hand on the firing mechanism and gave the “Ready—Fire!” command.

“Boom!”

A tremendous explosion roared instantaneously.

At the moment of discharge, the muzzle brake expelled a conical fireball eight meters in diameter; the projectile streaked out at an initial velocity of 800 m/s along a 792‑meter high trajectory, while the gun carriage, driven by the hydraulic recoil system, settled back into precise alignment.

Seconds later, Chen Jian, having reached the designated dismount point, assumed the artillery observer’s station and promptly reported the shell impact coordinates displayed by the drone.

“Offset east 120, near miss!”

“Copy that! Offset east 120, near miss!”

Lei Jie repeated the figures while instinctively reaching for a fork‑method correction, but the moment Chen Jian’s voice fell, the battle‑cranium AI had already parsed the speech and, based on the combat scenario, intervened with calculations.

In an instant, a bright data line flickered above Lei Jie’s eyepiece.

“Azimuth adjustment –0.04, elevation increase 0.80, muzzle‑velocity compensation +1.2%.”

Without a hint of hesitation, Lei Jie immediately adjusted the firing parameters according to the information.

A few seconds later, the second shell surged forward with unrelenting resolve toward the distant target.

The projectile traced a breathtaking arc through the sky; seventeen seconds after leaving the barrel it struck the target dead‑on, spawning a lethal shrapnel ring over twenty meters wide in the impact zone.

“Boom!”

Vast sediments were hurled skyward, and the monster’s body seemed to erupt in a bloom of mud and fungus—a “flower of blood.”

Toxic gas spread rapidly, coalescing into a dense crimson fog.

The creature’s wail rang across the heavens; its fore‑body lifted high as it spewed countless exploding spore clusters.

And with the dispersing spores came an even thicker veil of blood‑mist.

That precisely placed shell had clearly enraged it, and it yearned to locate a target for retaliation.

Yet the distance from Lei Jie’s party was far beyond reach; even with symbiotic fungal relays, they could not pinpoint the attackers’ position.

In its fury, the beast unleashed indiscriminate attacks in every direction.

Swarms of spores were hurled, clouds of poison gas billowed, and even the monster’s own body twisted and writhed, crushing swaths of fungal forest into powder.

Five kilometres away, Chen Jian watched the horror in stunned terror, unable to imagine what the Mechanist Cult or the Holy Blood Hall might do to defeat such a monster.

Even if they could close the gap, what then?

Though massive in size, the creature moved with no hint of sluggishness.

A simple “crush” would be enough to snuff out countless lives.

Mighty!

Watching the hill‑sized monster fully reveal its form, Chen Jian no longer hesitated, and swiftly ordered:

“Instant‑trigger rapid fire! Maintain bombardment!”

“Understood!”

In truth, Lei Jie had already calibrated the parameters per the drone’s guidance and was ready to fire the next round without Chen Jian’s command.

For artillerymen, hitting a moving target precisely from over ten kilometres away is far from simple.

Yet what if that moving target spanned several hundred metres?

One shell after another was launched at intervals of less than fifteen seconds, each bursting from the barrel and then striking the monster in succession.

The thunderous explosions continued unabated; though not every shell landed on the exact same spot, the minute pulse‑correction error left only the monster’s own movement as the sole adverse factor.

Several unfillable craters peppered the creature’s hide; after the first volley of six rapid shots, the layered armor on its body was blown away in a thick sheet.

At that moment the monster seemed to sense a genuine threat, no longer merely a “provocation.”

Its state grew ever more feral, bio‑electric currents rippled across the fungal carpet, and the entire Jinling ruin seemed to shift like a storm‑tossed sky.

Clouds of poison gas were released, and the fungal‑people surged madly in all directions, hunting for their prey.

Chen Jian’s position had originally been perilous, yet the few of them had long ago taken anti‑infrared measures; Chen Jian even activated an electro‑chromic camouflage.

They had vanished beneath the eyes of fungus and monster alike.

In such a moment, who could the monster still detect?

Only the Mechanist Cult, newly entered into the dense fungal thicket and not yet formed into formation.

As the beast let out a bellow akin to a bull’s roar and charged the Mechanist Cult’s ranks, Chen Jian’s expression shifted subtly.

He then decisively ordered:

“The plan has changed; the monster has left the core zone!”

“Reduce the bombardment tempo! Keep it restrained, but don’t finish it off!”

“Let the dogs fight each other; let them fire first. We’ll head to the core zone and, guided by Lingxi, locate the ruin’s entrance!”

“Copy!”

The rear artillery positions answered immediately, and at that moment, Chen Jian, returning to the cat‑car and racing toward the 011 bunker near the Purple Gold Mountain Observatory, felt an unprecedented absurdity.

At first, he had never intended to divert disaster eastward, letting the Mechanist Cult bear the monster’s wrath.

He hadn’t even planned for the Mechanist Cult to take up arms.

The reason was simple: he could not gauge the true strength of the Mechanist Cult, nor could he know whether they could defeat the monster or how long it would take.

Thus the safest course remained to strike first, seize first, reap first.

But now the situation had shifted.

The enraged beast abandoned its native ground and surged toward the Mechanist Cult’s army more than ten kilometres away.

Its rear fell into an almost vacuum, granting Chen Jian a perfect opening.

Whether the Mechanical Cult could eliminate that monster no longer mattered; its own purpose had already been fulfilled.

Entering 011, we erected a defensive line, organized the defense, and seized the initiative.

And if that monster could, to the greatest extent possible, eradicate the forces of the Mechanical Cult, that would be an unexpected delight.

With that thought, Chen Jian floored the accelerator.

The cat‑car roared forward in a wild sprint, its tracks flinging the heavy fungal carpet into the air; the clamor they generated was immense, far surpassing any standard of exposure.

Yet at this moment the monster seemed unable to concern itself with what lay behind.

For the cannons of the Mechanical Cult had already begun to thunder.

(End of chapter)