Chapter 252: Not Exactly a Pyrrhic Victory

Chapter 252: Not Exactly a Pyrrhic Victory

The nuclear warhead detonated flawlessly, and at the same moment the aerial drones and the seismic monitors already deployed instantly captured the direction of the seismic wave propagation.

Fuxi fed the seismic data into the system, overlaying it onto the map; moments later a vague silhouette of an underground tunnel network emerged before Chen Jian’s eyes.

Vast.

It was the first thought that sprang to mind when he beheld the map.

The labyrinthine subterranean web stretched over virtually every parcel of land surrounding the Jinling Ruins, and although the central main conduit was neither particularly long nor continuous, the vibration‑wave imagery indicated its diameter to be no less than six meters.

“Damn, that whale‑eel has actually carved a new ‘underground Great Wall’ system right near us.”

Seated in the rear seat of the cat‑car, Chen Jian scrutinized the map, and soon discovered that the farthest underground tunnel exit lay a staggering sixty kilometres from their current position.

“Can we catch up?”

Chen Jian asked.

“Attack‑17 drone is en route to the target airspace, estimated arrival in four minutes.”

“Target monster ‘whale‑eel’ sighted.”

“Deploying cruise missiles in three minutes; uncertain if we can hold it.”

“Commander, if you move now, the odds of catching it are slim.”

“Risk too high; recommend withdrawing to Base 011 first.”

“Understood.”

Chen Jian nodded decisively and switched the view to the drone’s feed.

At that moment Attack‑17 was streaking through the sky at over nine hundred kilometres per hour, the ground whipping past in a blur, while far ahead a massive plume of smoke drifted away.

It was the whale‑eel about to plunge back underground.

As the distance closed, through the drone’s eye Chen Jian could see the creature’s form with crystal clarity.

He had only glimpsed it vaguely in the sea before, but once the image magnified, he easily discerned that its body had undergone a dramatic transformation.

The once‑bulky mass had shrunk to a gaunt, jagged husk; most of its tentacles were slick with blood, and pale bone spines lay exposed.

Injured?

For a fleeting instant a sly delight flickered in Chen Jian’s heart.

But he quickly realized it wasn’t “injury” at all, but “adaptation”!

It was adapting to a terrestrial environment!

The massive physique once needed to resist water pressure was now superfluous; to gain swift subterranean mobility it had voluntarily compressed muscle and bone, shedding the plump, whale‑like form for that of a slender eel.

Indeed, scientific names may be misapplied in this world, but nicknames are never mistaken.

With the drone hovering over the whale‑eel’s head, Chen Jian issued the attack order without hesitation.

Four cruise missiles launched in unison, hurtling toward the beast at eight‑tenths of a Mach.

In no more than fifteen seconds they would strike home.

Yet at that instant, as if sensing imminent danger, the creature suddenly rose to its feet.

It was identical to the whale‑eel encountered near the Imperial Capital!

Scales unfurled, and electric sparks flickered within its densely packed cysts.

A plume of plasma swept across, enveloping the monster in a radiant lattice reminiscent of the light‑prism towers Chen Jian had only ever seen in games.

Blue‑gray smoke billowed, a burst of ultra‑high instantaneous voltage generated fierce electromagnetic interference; the drone’s view went hazy, and the four nearby cruise missiles lost their bearings!

Not an EMP.

Chen Jian was certain that no carbon‑based lifeform on this world could produce an electromagnetic pulse strong enough to scramble a missile’s internal navigation or a drone’s video feed.

But if it were ultra‑high voltage…

A short‑circuit inside a transformer box can create a transient magnetic field that distorts camera images.

During a business trip near an aluminum‑electrolysis plant years ago, Chen Jian had become intimately familiar with that phenomenon.

Clearly, the creature’s effect on electronics mirrored that of a massive transformer.

At least the EMP theory was ruled out!

Chen Jian exhaled a slight sigh of relief, yet when he glanced back at the reappearing drone feed, a wave of helplessness surged within him.

Damn it.

We can’t catch it.

A drone guided solely by wireless navigation cannot inflict meaningful damage, and conventional large‑caliber artillery cannot even reach the monster’s flank at this range!

If we follow that line of thought, the forthcoming nuclear‑mine field will be of limited use.

Should the magnetic field it generates interfere with a warhead’s trigger, the bomb could either fizzle or detonate prematurely!

Chen Jian’s brows knit tightly.

He spoke the orders:

“Prepare to withdraw.”

“We can’t catch it; even the two of us can’t bring it down.”

“Turn back now, retreat to the safety zone near the base.”

“Its first wave of assault has been repelled; I doubt it will make any major moves in the short term.”

“We must seize this window and find a way to eliminate it quickly!”

“Understood!”

Ji Xing obeyed, spun the vehicle around, and raced toward Base 011.

Along the roadside, the forest occasionally revealed monsters startled by the nuclear blast—mostly disoriented mantises that had lost their central nerve and fled in scattering, but also a few creatures Chen Jian had never seen before, making their first appearance near the Jinling Ruins.

“Damn.”

“Is that whale‑eel some kind of shield‑bore machine? Is it constructing a highway near the Jinling Ruins?”

When Chen Jian’s words faded, driver Ji Xing nodded immediately:

“It seems to be a support‑type monster.”

“My impression is that it’s unlike the tier‑one beasts I met in the mountain city.”

“From a certain perspective it isn’t terribly lethal, but if we let it rally a beast tide, the trouble we’d face would be immense.”

“Indeed.”

Chen Jian gripped his explosive rifle, and with a single shot

shattered the head of a mantis monster that blocked the cat‑car’s path, then continued:

“If that’s the case, then the tier‑one monsters that emerge in the beast tide shouldn’t be limited to just this one.”

“And so far we still know nothing about the enemies that may appear.”

“We must get the balloon aloft first.”

Moreover, we may need aircraft with a greater payload capacity.

An airplane?

Ji Xing’s eyes lit up instantly.

Are we going to build an airplane?

Yes.

Chen Jian nodded.

But perhaps it won’t be the kind of plane you imagine.

Never mind, let’s head back for now.

Contact Shen Yue and see how things are on their side!

Understood!

Meanwhile, on the other side.

In the combat zone on the southeast flank of Base 011, a 30A tank loomed like a colossal elephant at the heart of the battlefield, its surrounding fifty‑meter radius a vacuum devoid of any monster carcasses.

Beyond that fifty‑meter ring, the dead monsters piled densely, layer upon layer, forming a grim circle.

Hundreds of corpses writhed as they collapsed, and the few severely wounded monsters that stirred were swiftly decapitated by a lone gun‑armed medic.

By the time the smoke cleared, not only the wasteland designated as the main front lay silent, but the surrounding woods showed no sign of life either.

Lei Jie clambered out of the tank and onto the soft ground, stumbling slightly.

Regaining his footing, he turned immediately to Shen Yue, who was tending the wounded, and asked:

“How’s the situation?”

“Two are beyond saving.”

Shen Yue didn’t look up. “Gauze.”

Beside him, Xie Liu promptly handed over gauze; Shen Yue spread it in his palm, rinsed the exposed intestine with clean water from his other hand, then wrapped it and shoved it back into the patient’s body.

“Needle and thread.”

He continued, and Xie Liu deftly passed him the required tools.

A somewhat rough stitching began in earnest, and while the needle slipped through flesh, Shen Yue quickly briefed him.

“Three minor wounds, two severe. This kid’s intestine was severed; the problem is serious.”

“If the abdominal cavity isn’t cleaned thoroughly, a fulminant infection will erupt.”

“Fortunately we still have antibiotics, but I can’t promise we’ll contain the infection.”

“He’ll need rest; over the next month he may require repeated laparotomies.”

“That’s the limit of what I can do; whether he lives now rests on his own fate.”

With that, Shen Yue finished suturing the wound.

He rose without hesitation, walked to another casualty, and said:

“This kid’s luck is better; both legs are amputated, but the major artery is intact.”

“Bleeding was controlled promptly; the prognosis should be decent.”

“However, if possible, you’d better fit him with an exoskeleton.”

“Didn’t we acquire a batch of neural implants from the Sanctified Blood Hall? Let’s try one on him.”

“…What mechanical ascension.”

Lei Jie shook his head and replied:

“Linking neural implants with an exoskeleton isn’t that simple; let’s see what Fuxi says when we get back.”

“What about the others? How are the lightly wounded?”

“Minor issue, superficial skin injuries.”

As the words fell, a patient left hanging by Shen Yue glanced at his own chest with a hint of astonishment.

There, a horrific gash had nearly ripped his entire front, ribs shattered and collapsed, exposed to the air.

He even felt that, should he pry the wound a little wider now, he might glimpse the beating heart and the lungs rising and falling with each breath.

“Is this even a light wound?”

The patient couldn’t help but find it absurdly amusing.

But when he looked at Xie Liu, head bowed, busy preparing adrenaline for Commander Shen Yue, his smile vanished.

Indeed, compared with the Sanctified Blooder before him, his own injuries were merely light.

The wounds on her back were not one but three.

Her scapula lay fully exposed, muscle tissue laboring to keep her moving.

Such a terrifying sight might haunt many for nights on end, yet the two commanders seemed utterly unmoved.

——

No, not entirely unresponsive.

Commander Lei Jie finally inquired about Xie Liu’s injuries.

“How are you?”

The patient saw Xie Liu shrug casually and answered:

“Minor wound; as long as I can move, it’s not a big deal.”

“She’s fine.”

Shen Yue spoke from beside them:

“Heart rate normal, breathing steady, hemostasis achieved.”

“I can’t treat her right now; we’ll suture her after we return.”

“Li Shi’s injuries were that severe and he recovered; her condition should be manageable as well.”

“Understood.”

Lei Jie exhaled, then patted Xie Liu, signaling her to rest, and took her place to aid Shen Yue in rescuing the wounded.

Their movements were swift; within minutes the emergency injuries were fully addressed.

At that moment, Huang Meng’s squad, leading the sweep, finished the final clearing of the entire sector.

“Commander, all the monsters have been cleared.”

“No solitary monsters were found nearby; they all fled.”

“Did they really run, or just hide?”

Lei Jie furrowed his brow and asked.

“We scanned the surrounding woods within two hundred meters with thermal imaging and found no lingering monsters.”

“I think they must have all fled; the number of monsters that have died here has already exceeded four hundred. Even a well‑trained army would have collapsed under such a toll. Those creatures can’t truly be without a hint of fear, can they?”

“Then that’s good.”

Hearing this, Shen Yue wiped the blood from his hands, rose to his feet, and when he scanned the surroundings, he beheld a unit pushed to its limits by relentless combat—its gear in tatters, its bodies stained with blood and smoke—yet its eyes burned with unshakable resolve.

We have won.

Nothing forges a squad’s spirit more than a hard‑won victory.

He gave a slight wave, and the exhausted men instantly straightened.

The moment the weapons were grasped again, Lei Jie was struck by a sudden, uncanny sensation.

——

These people seemed to awaken a familiar feeling within him.

After a brief silence, he never uttered any melodramatic speech.

He simply issued a terse command.

“Squad leaders, count your men, form ranks, board the vehicle, and bring them back!”

“Understood!”

“Copy that!”

The replies rang out at once, and soon everyone was boarding the transport, heading toward Base 011.

The wounded man, his chest bruised, lay in the cargo hold, his vision a little hazy as he stared at the ceiling of the compartment; a comrade handed him a water flask, apparently to let him sip, but another soldier immediately barred him.

“Are you mad? The commander said you can’t drink water now!”

“I forgot.”

The intervening comrade coughed, reclaimed the flask, and gulped two large swallows on his own.

Then he exhaled heavily and said:

“I never imagined I could still survive.”

“I thought I was doomed.”

As his words faded, the soldier opposite nodded silently.

“I didn’t expect it either.”

“But when I saw those monsters, I wasn’t even thinking about whether I could live or die.”

“We went berserk; my barrel even burst, but thank heavens we had a spare gun—now you see why the commander made us carry two weapons, right?”

“Now you get it—next time we’ll need not just a spare gun but a spare barrel as well.”

“Don’t even talk about ‘next time’; battles like this don’t come around often.”

“The troops from the capital are arriving soon; I reckon this may be our last run.”

“That’s not certain—what if there’s more?”

“If there is, we’ll just keep fighting.”

Amid the roar of the engine, voices began to fade.

The wounded man closed his eyes and slipped into a deep sleep.

He saw the setting sun spill through the open door of the carriage, and the distant sun seemed to chase the convoy, drawing ever nearer.

(End of Chapter)