Chapter 171: God of War

Chapter 171: The God of War

"Fire! Fire!"

The archbishop roared his orders, and as his voice fell, twelve rapid‑fire 152‑mm “giant cannons” already belched flames.

"Boom!"

"Boom!"

Twelve shells hurled toward the beast’s location, but lacking precise aiming, the vast majority fell far, far beyond the monster’s reach.

The massive explosions raised thick plumes of smoke, the over‑pressure even sweeping the poisonous fog around the blast points clean.

It should have been a scene as glorious as a miracle, yet the archbishop was now frantic with anxiety.

Why?

Why can’t we hit it?

Why does every shot from those mimetic heretics land true on the monster, while our elite inquisitorial troops fire shells that seem only to paint the sky with fireworks?

Though the first barrage was hasty, it had been meticulously aimed and calculated by the artillery priests!

Things we cannot achieve—how do those mimetic heretics manage it?

Do their shells grow eyes?

Have their weapons advanced to such a degree?

Impossible!

The archbishop whispered the name of the Holy Trinity, seeking its blessing to purge the distracting thoughts from his heart.

He knew that in moments like these, he must keep his composure.

The monster was already charging, its advance guided by the cunning schemes of those mimetic heretics, bearing down on the cathedral guard regiment that was not yet fully prepared.

At its speed, in at most a dozen minutes it would reach the core artillery array.

Should it crush the array, we would lose our chief means of attack, and this “expedition” would, in effect, be declared a failure!

No—no sainted pope would ever permit such an outcome.

The Holy Trinity would not stand idle!

We must stop that monster; even if we cannot defeat it, we must halt its advance!

With that thought, the archbishop raised his voice:

"Guardians of the Cathedral, now is the moment to pledge your loyalty to the Holy Trinity!"

"We must hold the monster! Win time for the Trinity’s cannons!"

"First Brigade! Second Brigade! Take your light artillery and swing eastward!"

"Unleash your fury with the guns in your hands! Forge a wall with your very bodies!"

"You must draw the monster, block its path!"

"When the artillery rains down, that will be your triumph!"

"Charge! Fight for the Holy Trinity!"

"Fight for the Holy Trinity!"

A crisp chorus of replies rang out as the armored warriors, already primed, sprinted forward.

These soldiers, brainwashed by fervent, soaring religious zeal, seemed to ignore the fate that awaited them, hesitating not a moment as they surged toward the direction the priest had indicated.

A torrent of gunfire erupted; pitiful little 7.62 mm, 5.8 mm, even antiquated lead rounds arced over the mushroom‑fungus thicket, striking far toward the monster’s advance before falling limp from the sky.

They could not wound the creature, yet no one ceased marching or firing.

For they all understood that their mission was to sacrifice their lives to shield the artillery that could truly harm the beast.

Should they fail, even in death they would have no face to present before the Holy Trinity.

Amid the frantic motion, toxic fog seeped through the seams of their protective suits into mouth and nose.

Hallucinations began to stir, bodies grew weak, yet not a single soul retreated.

They plunged headlong into the dense fog, then wove their way out of it.

Wherever they passed, the oncoming swarms of fungal men were crushed like rotten wood and dust.

This was the true might of the Cathedral Guard.

Yet today they would meet death with open hearts.

The great heat source finally drew the fungi’s attention, and the massive monster began to turn.

The two guard brigades halted on a clearing a kilometre from the artillery line, then quickly dispersed, ready to meet the onslaught.

At that moment the mountain‑sized monster was less than three kilometres away.

The guards fired their light cannons, rocket launchers, and heavy rifles toward the beast; the rain of shells finally inflicted some damage.

Though, it was a trifling wound.

The second‑tier monster roared again, raising its upper body high and spewing a hundred spore clusters that fell toward the guard’s position.

A darkness that blotted out the sky.

The spore masses exploded on impact, spraying countless digestive enzymes laced with acid.

Skin not fully shielded by the suits swelled red in an instant, then moments later began to wrinkle and peel away.

Yet the guard’s warriors did not waver a step.

Stubbornly they held the positions ordered by their commander, forming a defensive line.

The enemy was right before them; retreat was not an option.

Guns were re‑cocked, cannons and rockets re‑loaded.

As the troops stood in grim readiness, several monsters unlike the fungal men suddenly emerged from the thick fog.

The instant they were revealed, a hundred rifles cracked in unison.

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang—"

Bullets fell like rain, dousing the monster’s blood‑thirst, while a smaller creature attempting a flanking charge collided head‑on with a guard bearing a rocket launcher.

From less than four metres away the guard squeezed the launcher’s trigger; after a deafening blast, he gave his life, exploding together with the monster.

That failed assault forced the second‑tier monster to shift its focus entirely.

It barreled straight toward the two guard brigades, its massive bulk crushing the soft ground and sending tremors rippling outward.

The warriors of the First and Second Brigades stood unmoved; aside from the ceaseless commands and the roar of gunfire, no other sound rose.

As the highest commander, the brigade commander was surrounded by shield‑bearing guards at the centre, yet his position was also the foremost.

When the colossal beast finally revealed itself in the shadowed mist, he, as if confirming his own death, removed his cumbersome helmet and protective visor.

"In the name of the Holy Trinity, we shall hold this ground!"

"Bang!"

A signal flare was fired toward the direction of the monster, and immediately a torrent of gunfire erupted.

“Bang bang bang bang bang—”

The paltry attacks could not wound those monsters; after its massive body rolled over, the two Imperial Guard regiments, Azi, instantly lost more than half their men.

The regiment commander perished beneath the monster's crushing weight, his body flattened and shattered, and swiftly soaked in viscous digestive enzymes.

Perhaps at that moment he truly believed he had entered the realm of the Holy Trinity.

That ethereal faith spurred the remaining guardsmen; when the surviving warriors removed their helmets, the faint flame they emitted finally burned out.

The two regiments held out for less than five minutes before being utterly pulverized.

Yet perhaps that was enough.

“Boom!”

“Boom boom boom!”

The dense barrage of cannon fire finally roared.

A second later, shells from two kilometres away struck the monster.

Heavy smoothbore shells bounced off its flesh, carving deep gouges.

The giant cannon's shells detonated violently, leaving crater after crater.

After this volley, the monster was nearly pinned in place.

A low, immense wail erupted from its maw, so deafening that even the artillery priests of the battery felt their hearing temporarily stolen.

Yet they did not cease their actions.

The artillery priest, incense burner in hand, watched the beast's movements, then swiftly directed the mechanized servitors and the guard soldiers to adjust their gun bearings.

When the monster turned and charged toward them, they successfully unleashed a second round of fire.

“Boom!”

“Boom boom boom boom boom!”

Hitting a moving target proved still too arduous for them.

In the haste of firing, the artillery priest could not aim effectively.

Out of dozens of shells, only a handful—just over ten—found the monster.

Its movement was hampered, and in some vulnerable spots its flesh began to ooze dark‑red blood.

Yet it was not finally vanquished.

Its next assault would crush the Mechanist Church's battery entirely. Spores were already drifting down in a rain of ash; without the archbishop’s command, the third and fourth guard regiments, held in reserve, surged forward.

Their sole task was to buy the battery time for a third volley.

Seeing those brave, fearless warriors, the archbishop’s heart swelled with successive waves of sorrow.

It need not have been this way.

Originally, this expedition did not demand such gruesome sacrifice!

Had they simply advanced within four kilometres of the monster, the battery could have easily unleashed four, even five, successive salvos!

The armored guards of the regiments only needed to block the raids of other symbiotic beasts; they need not have buried their lives beneath the massive body of that second‑tier monster like ants.

All the evil stems from those mimetic heretics.

They are the chief culprits, the most wicked of heresies!

A flash of anger flickered in the archbishop’s eyes, yet alongside it glimmered a hint of terror.

He hesitated, wondering whether to retreat.

And that thought, barely a flicker in his mind, quickly grew beyond his control.

Yes, he should leave.

Failure was now inevitable; he could not die here.

The Pope‑Saint still required his wisdom, still needed his service.

The archbishop scanned the surroundings; his personal guard, as if sharing his mind, gathered around him.

Then this unassuming squad slipped away silently.

As they withdrew from the battery, the fragile artillery line finally unleashed its third salvo.

“Boom!”

The monster’s massive form shuddered, rolling across the ground, then rose upright again, bearing down heavily upon the heart of the battery.

“I have reached position 011 of the fortification.”

“Reference clear, target locked, significant markers identified, preparing to activate the fort, entering verification phase.”

“Reggie, what’s the situation on the Mechanist Church side?”

Standing beneath the iconic structure of the Purple Mountain Observatory, Chen Jian cautiously surveyed the surroundings as he asked.

A moment later, Reggie’s reply crackled over the radio.

“Running low on ammunition.”

“The monster has reached the Mechanist Church’s battery; the enemy has lost effective capability.”

“A large number of the battery’s combatants have fled, but two organized combat teams continue to resist.”

“These guard regiments are really quite strong.”

“Their combat is extraordinarily brave, even daring to sacrifice their lives to hold the monster and give the battery a firing window.”

“What a pity, these men will surely be wiped out this time.”

“After this battle, the Mechanist Church will have suffered heavy losses; they’ll have to crawl on their bellies from now on.”

“That’s not entirely true.”

When Reggie’s words faded, Ji Xing, also on the radio, interjected:

“There are only ten Holy Hall guard regiments here, half of the total guard force.”

“A three‑thousand‑strong contingent is large for a single battle, yet compared with the Mechanist Church’s dispersed forces totaling nearly one hundred thousand, it is modest.”

“They will be bruised and broken, but will not be utterly shattered.”

“We need not pity them; let them meet their fate.”

“Indeed, there is no need for sympathy.”

Chen Jian paused briefly, then said:

“But there is no need for more deaths.”

“Our objective has been achieved; the enemy’s further actions have clearly been curbed, and they no longer threaten us.”

“After all, they are fighting the monster; we cannot stand by idly.”

“Moreover, we still need to preserve the limited troops they have left as a barrier between us and Huadu.”

“Prepare to intervene.”

“Take down that monster!”

“Understood!”

On the artillery line of the Mechanical Cult, the commander of the Fourth Guard Brigade fired the last bullet in his gun into empty air.

He rolled amid the corpses, snatching another rifle, and raked a frenzied hail of shots at the monster’s grotesque head.

Yet it was plainly evident that such an assault would achieve nothing.

The artillery array lay utterly shattered; before this marvel of defense, every struggle had become a farce.

Perhaps it was time to withdraw?

Yet to retreat now—how would one script the outcome of this grand expedition?

He scanned the surroundings, seeking the Archbishop to receive his orders.

Yet wherever his eyes fell, the black silhouette had long since vanished.

The commander chuckled at himself.

He knew the enemy had already withdrawn before him.

Indeed, he was the lofty “Lord”; how could he possibly leave his life here to waste?

There must be more pressing matters awaiting him.

And himself?

For him, the most pressing matter now seemed to be dying alongside his soldiers.

The commander seized another rifle, roaring as he poured bullets onto the mountain‑sized behemoth.

He did not expect this attack to succeed; he merely sought to draw the creature’s gaze, to make it strike him first, to die at the forefront.

——

Yet, at the instant his bullet left the barrel,

“Boom!”

A violent explosion roared.

The monster’s body shuddered and it collapsed to the ground.

Then followed the second, then the third.

“Boom! Boom!”

One grenade after another slammed onto the creature, further weakening its already feeble “armor”.

The monster lost all ability to resist, pinned to the earth by the relentless, precise bombardment.

The commander stared, stunned, at the horrific scene, horrified to discover that all six successive shells landed within an almost identical, minuscule zone.

The armor on the monster rippled like a wave, then burst like splashing water.

It must be near death, right?

Where did these shells come from?

A thought flashed through the commander’s mind; he turned his gaze eastward, following the trajectory of the shells.

How far away was it?

Twenty kilometers?

Thirty kilometers?

Such a distance

How could they achieve it?

Confusion, shock, resentment, and terror tangled together, coalescing into a feeling he refused to admit yet could not deny.

Reverence.

Whatever they were, they were undeniably worthy opponents.

The commander straightened his posture, staring at the fallen beast before him.

And the next second.

A lightning‑fast shell streaked across the sky like a meteor, then, at a velocity far surpassing any other, slammed into the monster’s body.

Riding the ripple left by the grenades, the shell pierced deep into the creature.

Then, it passed straight through.

The ground erupted in a cloud of dust.

Yet there was no explosion.

No spark either.

This silent steel, hailing from over twenty kilometers away, drove the monster hard into the earth.

Then came the second, then the third.

When the final shell fell, the once‑imperious monster lay utterly silent.

From beginning to end, the creature had never seen its true adversary.

Yet its foe, with a casual flick, erased it effortlessly from tens of kilometers away.

The commander trembled, half‑kneeling on the ground.

In that moment, he finally understood what truly is.

the God of War.

(End of Chapter)