Chapter 306: It's Over

Chapter 306: The End

“It’s over.”

At the instant he confirmed the nuclear bomb had not detonated and the sun had not risen, Zhang Tao felt as though a massive hammer had struck him; his body went rigid, frozen in place.

As the supreme commander who had orchestrated the entire battle from start to finish, how could he possibly be unaware of the dire peril that now loomed?

All the corpses of troops were piled on the western shore of Qili Lake, while a great tide of beasts had already seen a considerable number of monsters cross the Nüshan Lake.

Like they had received a single command, they did not scatter in panic; instead, with single‑minded purpose they surged straight toward Qili Lake!

Their aim was to bury the Holy Legion here, to drown every soul in the water!

Zhang Tao’s hand began to tremble uncontrollably.

He turned to the archbishop beside him and asked:

“Didn’t you say you could trigger the explosion??”

“Why didn’t it explode??”

The archbishop, now cloaked in an abyssal terror, stared dumbfounded at the plume of smoke rising from the distant blast; he wanted to utter a defense, but only two words escaped his lips.

“Run!”

“I didn’t know we should run!?”

Zhang Tao glared at the archbishop, drew a deep breath, and issued his orders.

“Those already aboard, proceed to the eastern shore defensive line of Qili Lake.”

“The units that have not yet boarded must stay on the western shore and cover the withdrawal of the others!”

.Understood.

The archbishop nodded slowly.

Perhaps only one who steps before the soldiers, who speaks the command with his own mouth, can truly grasp the cruelty of such an order, and the agony of delivering it.

The warriors who had not yet boarded had already conquered their fear, willingly falling behind.

Yet now, after the others had boarded, even though empty cabins still bobbed on the steamships, they found themselves unable to escape.

Can those left on the western shore survive?

Perhaps each of them will ask themselves that question.

And the answer, starkly, is obvious.

Impossible.

No one can live without solid cover or the shield of distant artillery.

They were nothing more than cannon fodder bought to buy time.

Worse still, they were not even the most suitable fodder.

The later a unit lingers, the firmer its faith in the Holy Trinity, the finer its combat prowess, the more loyal it is to the Saint.

They were the elite of the elite, yet these elites were forced to shield those less worthy.

The moment the archbishop clearly relayed the Saint’s command to every soldier, the previously chaotic, noisy lakeside fell into a sudden hush.

A hush so complete that among the near‑thousand‑strong formation, only the whisper of wind could be heard.

After a heartbeat.

The commander of the Second Brigade stepped forward first.

“For the Holy Trinity!”

“Brothers of the Second Brigade, hold this ground with me!”

“We shall block those alien monsters!”

“We swear to defend the glory of the Holy Trinity unto death!”

“For the Holy Trinity!”

The soldiers of the Second Brigade answered in unison.

Immediately after, the commander of the Third Brigade advanced.

“Brothers of the Third Brigade, hasten to lay the defenses.”

“We will not die here today.”

“We must cover the great cannon’s retreat to the Qili Lake line!”

“The Holy Trinity’s great cannon will pulverize the wicked heretical beasts into dust!”

“Move!”

At the sound of that command, everyone sprang into action.

The Second, Third, and Fourth Brigades.

Of the brigades—totaling five hundred men—most of the elite were left on the western shore of Qili Lake.

With them remained the equipment and ammunition that could not be hauled away in time.

Watching the death‑defiant looks on the warriors’ faces, Zhang Tao’s expression grew complex.

“Leave all the cannons that have not yet been boarded.”

“Gunpowder, bullets—stop loading them onto the ships.”

“Leave them there for us!”

“Yes!”

The archbishop relayed the order at once, and at that moment the first fully‑laden steamship had

Its furnace belching black‑and‑white smoke, the hull cleaving the lake’s surface, waves rolling in layered surges.

Behind it, more and more steamships sprang to life.

Under the rising sun, the surface of Qili Lake resembled a massive naval battlefield, a scene of breathtaking grandeur.

Yet in truth it was nothing more than a frantic flight.

Zhang Tao did not depart with the first ship; his own vessel remained moored on the western shore.

The defensive line was slowly taking shape, and the brave, fearless soldiers were about to pay the highest price for their faith.

But at this moment they seemed to have cast everything else aside.

Devoid of mechanized servants and the aid of the attendant squad, they hauled ammunition and weapons themselves, digging crude trenches with their own hands.

Then they crouched into the trenches, weapons raised, aiming at the onrushing tide of beasts.

“Lord, there is no time left!”

The archbishop, beside Zhang Tao, urged him anxiously.

Zhang Tao knew it was his turn to leave.

But why?

It seemed only a short while ago, I was still the vanguard commander who led from the front.

And now, having taken the saint’s seat, must I abandon my own brothers?

In this moment, Zhang Tao truly felt for the first time the pain of his changed identity.

The steam turbine roared at full speed, and everyone on the ship stared anxiously at his face.

Looking back, Zhang Tao suddenly understood.

Not only the remaining battalions yearned to survive, but also the men already aboard the vessel.

He, too, bore responsibility for those men.

Zhang Tao drew a deep breath and issued his command:

“Let’s go.”

In an instant, the steamship surged forward.

The massive paddle wheels on either side spun rapidly, cutting through the water and thrusting the great ship toward the depths of Qili Lake.

At that moment, the beast tide was already close.

Even without a telescope, Zhang Tao could clearly see the colossal silhouettes of the monsters.

By eye, the distance could not exceed three kilometers.

At their speed, catching up to our last steamship might take only a dozen minutes or so.

Zhang Tao’s heart hammered wildly.

Now the entire hope of this unit rested upon the battalions that stayed behind.

If they could hold, at least some would live.

If they faltered, or failed to give the withdrawing forces a chance to establish a bombardment line, everyone on the Xuyi defensive line would be swallowed by the beast tide.

The cannons began to roar.

“Boom—”

“Boom—”

“Boom—”

Shell after shell fell toward the beast tide.

The relentless barrage rang like funeral bells, hammering against Zhang Tao’s nerves, already stretched to their limit.

At that moment, by the lake of Nüshan.

The commander of the Imperial Guard, lugging a rifle that had long been emptied, trudged alongside Zhang Chao and Liu Hao, stumbling toward the direction of the beast tide’s advance.

“We can’t catch those monsters!”

The commander gasped, saying:

“They run too fast; we have no vehicles, we simply can’t keep up.”

“It’s absurd. Are we supposed to survive after all?”

Hearing him, Liu Hao shook his head and replied:

“Surviving like this is a disgrace.”

“We must keep up; perhaps we’ll encounter other scattered brothers.”

“We must find them and reunite.”

“Only then will we have a chance to reorganize.”

“Perhaps we can even slay a few of those beasts!”

“You’re right.”

Liu Hao spat the mud from his mouth and then said:

“But the problem is, the main force has already withdrawn to the east shore of Qili Lake.”

“Even if we rush over now, we can’t rendezvous with them.”

“For us, the best plan is to skirt the beast tide from the south and take the longer route to the Qili Lake defenses.”

“That way we can at least avoid unnecessary casualties.” “That’s too slow.”

The Imperial Guard commander shook his head.

“If we go around the south, by the time we arrive the battle will likely be over.”

“Let’s go straight after them.”

“These monsters have completely ignored us; that is our advantage.”

“Understood.”

“I’ll follow your lead.”

The other two answered in turn, and the three‑person squad left behind on the front line hesitated no longer, following only the trail the monsters left as they pressed forward.

Their pace was far from swift, yet given their exhaustion, it was no longer sluggish.

After more than half an hour, guided by the faintly visible paved paths through the woods and the broad road the beast tide had carved, they covered nearly five kilometers.

At that moment, the crack of gunfire began to drift into their ears.

“Someone!”

“They’re still on the west shore of Qili Lake!”

The Imperial Guard commander made an instant judgment, and as his words fell, the expressions of the other two changed immediately.

“They didn’t have time to leave?”

“They’re trapped??”

Zhang Chao and Liu Hao asked in succession; the commander slowly shook his head and said gravely:

“It’s not that they didn’t have time; someone was left behind.”

“I now understand what happened.”

“The nuclear bomb failed to detonate, and the monsters moved far faster than anticipated.”

“The main force could not withdraw entirely, for doing so would likely have let the beasts overtake them at the lake’s center, stripping them of any chance to resist.”

“Thus someone had to stay and hold the monsters at bay, buying time for the others.”

“They—”

“They’re doomed.”

Liu Hao blurted out suddenly.

With those words spoken, the three exchanged glances; even the most steadfast commander felt a flicker of retreat in his heart at that instant.

Yet it lasted only a breath.

Fear was swiftly drowned by anger, then painted over by a broader, more blunt conviction.

“We must go find them.”

“Even if death awaits, we shall die alongside them.”

“A warrior of the Holy Trinity must never abandon his brother!”

“Understood.”

Liu Hao nodded slowly.

“But we have no weapons left.”

“The road ahead will be harsher; we must tread carefully.”

“Stay concealed.”

The commander of the Imperial Guard briskly discarded his rifle and drew from his waist the long sword that had ever been his companion.

“I recall, long ago, we too hunted monsters with long blades, like the Sanctified Blood‑bearers.”

“Now, we return to the old ways.”

“I hope you have not grown rusty in this art.”

“Of course.”

The other two unsheathed their long swords in turn, and the three of them crouched low, slipping past the scattered, solitary monsters’ gaze, pressing onward toward Qili Lake.

They used the forest as a veil, striving to make not a whisper.

They were battle‑hardened veterans; perhaps a single man could not fell a beast, yet as scouts they could melt into shadow without trouble.

Not long ago they had been within fifty meters of a monster.

Yet the creature had not sensed their presence.

At that moment, gunfire grew louder and more distinct.

Yet the density of gunshots and cannon blasts waned.

The western shore defenses of Qili Lake were on the brink of collapse.

The Imperial Guard commander furrowed his brow, his expression urgent.

He wished to quicken his stride, but at that instant, ahead, a strange monster caught his eye.

Humanoid.

Armored.

Its body seemed to merge with the surroundings.

Had his gaze not lingered there, he might never have discerned its trace.

Behind the creature glimmered a strange, man‑made contraption, emitting a faint phosphorescence.

The device was massive, humming with a low, resonant buzz.

For a fleeting instant he thought it might be a scouting unit of the Huaxia army.

After all, he had only ever seen such gear upon them.

Yet quickly, as the monster’s visage came into focus, he realized it could not be Huaxia.

The Huaxia were at least human.

This monster, however, was not.

The commander halted in place.

He did not know what this thing was.

Yet he knew it was anything but ordinary.

He signaled the two companions.

“Conceal.”

“Flank.”

“Hunt.”

No guard stood around the beast; it seemed supremely confident in its camouflage.

Yet its luck was decidedly poor.

Or perhaps it was so engrossed in its task that it ignored looming peril.

But that mattered no longer.

For now, the three had completed the encirclement.

Liu Hao, the nearest, stood less than ten meters from the monster.

The commander raised his hand high, then brought it down with force.

It was the signal to strike.

In an instant the three lunged forward together.

With long swords in hand, their bodies rising and falling, they traced in the air a breathtaking arc, luminous as a full moon.

“Swoosh—”

“Bang—”

The blades struck the monster’s left shoulder with unerring precision, yet unlike the smooth cut one might expect,

instead of a crisp clang halted by armor, the blade met flesh with a dull thud.

“Soft armor!” Liu Hao shouted:

“Pin it down!”

“Understood!”

Zhang Chao flung his sword aside, leapt forward, and at the moment the monster tried to rise, he used his momentum to crush it hard onto the ground.

“Hold it!”

The commander stepped forward and delivered a crushing kick to the creature’s skull.

“Crack!”

A sharp sound rang out as the monster’s neck snapped nearly ninety degrees.

Had a man taken that blow, he would have died on the spot.

Yet the monster did not die.

It still writhed, its twisted neck rotating at a grotesque angle, desperately

trying to return to its original posture.

“Pull its head off! Pull its head off!”

In a fury, the commander locked the monster’s jaw with his elbow, while Liu Hao and Zhang Chao surged forward, clamping onto its lower body.

Then, the three exerted force in unison.

“Pierce—”

A sound like tearing silk rang out.

A bright flash of lightning sliced the air.

"Bang!"

The monster's skull was ripped clean off with savage force!

Blood sprayed in a crimson spray.

The armor clinging to the beast's body faded instantly.

The commander of the imperial guard dropped the blood‑soaked head, his nerves still trembling, and said:

"What the fuck is this thing?"

(End of chapter)