Chapter 350: Full Assembly

Chapter 350: Full Mobilization

On the ground.

The window for interference was narrow, yet even so, on a battlefield that shifts in an instant, a momentary loss of command wrought grave consequences.

Before Chen Jian, not a single Mountain City dweller remained standing or moving.

The enemy contingent of dozens vanished in an instant, as if turned to ash and smoke.

Only a handful of foes, after regaining command, managed to slip back underground, but it was clear they could no longer stir up a great storm.

“Gather every corpse!”

Chen Jian barked his orders:

“If a body can’t be carried, behead it!”

“I need their neural‑machine devices!”

“These things can tap into the enemy’s communications network; there must be a physical key.”

“Once we establish a cellular network, we may be able to launch a reverse intrusion!”

“I’m eager to see whether Fuxi’s rank or Lingxi’s rank is higher!”

“Understood!”

“Copy that!”

With Chen Jian’s command issued, a “cruel” harvest began.

The heads of the enemy corpses were all severed, then swiftly delivered to the two Sanctified Blood‑bearers for dissection.

Brain matter splintered, piling into a stark white layer.

The scene was brutal and terrifying; even the Blood God of the Crimson Skeleton, were he present, might mutter “a child can be taught.”

Yet the men who carried it out felt not a flicker of unease.

For they knew these things were not human.

They were merely flesh‑bound machines, puppeted by a hidden “human consciousness.”

Destroying a machine brings no guilt to a man.

The work proceeded smoothly; in less than half an hour, Chen Jian’s table was already strewn with no fewer than forty neural‑machine modules.

He could not say how many of those modules would still function.

Yet even half of them would be more than enough.

Chen Jian nodded in satisfaction, while at that moment Lei Jie had already led his guards onward.

After an hour’s toil, the laser‑emission matrix reached its designated launch point without a hitch.

Power was switched on, and the super‑capacitor began to charge.

They were now only one element away from firing this “destructive weapon.”

Timing.

They must wait until noon, when the sun blazes strongest and the mist thins to a whisper.

They must also wait until the monster reveals most of its bulk, allowing stable tracking and a one‑shot kill.

Of course, they must also wait for the outer support to arrive, and for certainty that they can strike the moment the passage opens.

Only then could they launch the assault.

It was a task that demanded patience.

Fortunately, they were no longer short of time.

Watching the monsters lurking beyond the dense forest, Chen Jian’s gaze held no trace of murderous intent.

All he intended was to clear the field.

Beside him, Guo Xu—who had weathered several battles and whose demeanor had visibly shifted—watched in silence as his comrades calculated firing angles and adjusted the matrix, yearning to speak but ultimately remaining mute.

Chen Jian noted his expression and turned his head:

“If you have something to say, speak it.”

“We still have time now.”

“But once the first monster falls, there will be no chance to halt us.”

“Why?”

Guo Xu asked, a hint of puzzlement in his voice:

“Haven’t we already wiped out the living forces of the Mountain City?”

“From what we see, they no longer possess the capacity to resist, do they?”

“Wrong.”

Chen Jian shook his head.

“They simply have not yet resolved to smash the pot and give up; they have not made the final decision.”

“We wield a nuclear bomb as our trump card; they, too, have these first‑tier monsters as theirs.”

“If the monsters are mobilized and strike us simultaneously, even with outside support we will find victory elusive.”

“The reason they have not acted immediately is only because they are mindful of the city above and the facilities below.”

“But if we shatter the first jar—”

“—the so‑called ‘shooting the mouse while fearing the trap’ scenario will vanish.”

“—Understood.”

Guo Xu let out a long sigh.

Then he spoke:

“Even so, you have become so powerful that they frighten me.”

“Is this feeling only now dawning on you?”

Chen Jian teased, asking.

A wry smile flickered across Guo Xu’s face.

“Perhaps because I have never truly faced you head‑on before.”

“All the intel I’ve heard is about how mighty your ‘nuclear bomb’ is, how efficiently you purge monsters, how clever your plot to overthrow the former saint was.”

“Yet those reports never truly instilled fear of you in me.”

“I know you are far stronger than us.”

“But I always thought our elite—say, the Imperial Guard—could at least hold their own against you.”

“Even if we lose, we would not be utterly helpless.”

“Now my thoughts have changed.”

At last, they have changed.

Chen Jian let out a silent sigh of relief in his heart.

On this mission, one of his secondary objectives was to alter Guo Xu's way of thinking.

And now, that goal seemed finally achieved.

“So, have you noticed the difference?”

“I have.”

Guo Xu nodded slowly.

“Rules.”

He uttered only those two words.

Seeing Chen Jian remain unmoved, he pressed on.

“Everything you do is bound by rules—there are rules for combat, for rest, for labor.”

“At first, I thought these rules were rigid.”

“Even harsher than the doctrines the Imperial Guard steadfastly uphold.”

“You permit no flexibility, no soldier may exercise judgment on the battlefield, and you never rely on any ‘miracle’ or ‘accident’.”

“That, perhaps, is the greatest chasm between us.”

“When the situation grows dire, we place our hope in the blessings of the Holy Trinity, in the loyal warriors unleashing their steadfast might.”

“But you are different. From start to finish, you are nothing but cold calculations.”

“As if your army were composed of mathematicians.”

As the words faded, Chen Jian involuntarily pursed his lips.

“That is a fitting description.”

“So then? Do you wish to learn this method of governance?”

Upon finishing the question, Guo Xu’s face broke into a mischievous smile.

He cleared his throat, turned to Chen Jian, and said with a grin:

“So this is your true aim, isn’t it?” “If I were to truly adopt your management scheme, the very foundation of the Mechanical Cult would be gradually eroded, slipping toward collapse.”

Chen Jian was left speechless.

He neither denied nor revealed his hand.

Guo Xu lifted his head and closed his eyes.

After a moment of silence, he spoke:

“I know this is wrong.”

“But if the Mechanical Cult is to survive.”

“Perhaps this is truly the only way.”

Meanwhile, near Ziguai Town.

The Han River City expeditionary force had just crossed the Three Gorges Dam, transferred to the only two steamships still operable on the upper Yangtze, and pressed westward along the river toward the mountain city.

By He Shuo’s reckoning, at their current pace they would need at least sixteen more hours to reach the outskirts of the mountain city.

Upon arrival, another two hours would be required to deploy, so that when the assault inside the city begins, a coordinated pincer can be launched.

That moment would be at high noon, when the viable attack window is exceedingly narrow.

Their time was pressing; even as they passed the massive, spectacular dam of singular commemorative significance, they did not pause to linger.

Only now, after boarding and setting sail, did he finally have the chance to stand at the stern and gaze from afar at the dam receding into the distance.

The dam differed little from the one he had imagined.

Some sections had already collapsed, and it was evident that over the past three centuries, blocked spillways had subjected the dam to flood after flood.

Yet, despite that, it stubbornly stood, a mute monument to a civilization long gone.

A hint of melancholy flickered in He Shuo’s eyes, while beside him Li Xian let out a soft sigh before speaking:

“The Three Gorges Dam.”

“We once regarded it as a miracle wrought by the Holy Trinity, but now it seems not so.”

“It was also built by ‘humans’ before the great cataclysm?”

“How on earth did they accomplish it?”

Hearing this, He Shuo averted his gaze and replied:

“Brick by brick.”

“Brick by brick??”

Li Xian was momentarily stunned.

“You’re not going to tell me this dam was assembled by countless hands, are you?”

“Of course not.”

He Shuo shook his head gently.

“Yet many hands did partake in its construction.”

“Even then, it was a ‘mega‑project.’”

“They dammed the whole river; merely by the volume of earth poured into the river at closure, they could effortlessly raise a city like Jinling.”

“Not to mention the myriad auxiliary structures and civil works.”

With that, Li Xian’s gaze turned wistful.

“Magnificent and awe‑inspiring.”

He asked:

“So, how long did it take to build this dam?”

“A hundred years? Fifty?”

He Shuo laughed heartily and replied:

“You know nothing of their might.”

“In truth, the main structure was completed in twelve years, and the entire project in sixteen.”

“.Terrifying.”

Li Xiang clicked his tongue in contemplation and continued:

“I have no idea how many centuries humanity of this world must wait before regaining such power.”

“I don’t know either.”

He Shuo lightly patted the rail at the stern and shifted his tone:

“But if we seize the mountain city, our recovery of strength will accelerate considerably.”

“Although, based on the information we have now, the mountain city lacks the kind of complete industrial system and equipment we truly desire.”

“But they possess the most precious computational power resources.”

“As long as we can obtain this computing power, many of our future endeavors will be considerably easier.”

“Understood—well, actually I don’t understand.”

Li Xian instinctively brushed the gun holster hanging at his waist, then said:

“I don’t know what computational power is, but following your lead shouldn’t be wrong.”

“Not just listening to me.”

He Shuo immediately corrected:

“It’s listening to us.”

.That’s what I mean.”

The two said no more; after a moment of silence, He Shuo spoke a command:

“Return and rest.”

“Notify everyone to resume training as usual after waking up tomorrow morning.”

“Tell them this is a life‑or‑death battle.”

“And tomorrow morning’s training may well be the last they ever have in their lives.”

“An extra hour of practice increases their chance of survival by a point.”

“Make sure they are prepared.”

As the words fell, Li Xian nodded gravely.

“Understood!”

Elsewhere, An Han City.

The Mechanical Cult’s guardian troops stationed in the city had completed their assembly, ready to advance toward the mountain city alongside the equally positioned Holy Blood.

The not‑particularly massive force performed final equipment checks on the open ground outside the city, while nearby, on a makeshift airstrip fashioned from a level patch of land, Jiang Yu was repairing a damaged ground‑attack aircraft.

——

In truth, the “repair” consisted merely of swapping out the laser‑burned panels and re‑joining the similarly scorched drive cables.

It wasn’t a particularly difficult task, yet she performed it with meticulous care.

After completing all checks, she leapt into the cockpit, cautiously taxied a short distance after starting the engine, and only when the aircraft proved fully functional did she finally exhale in relief.

When she shut down and returned to the ground, the aircraft’s weapons operator—more plainly, its gunner—immediately approached.

He looked at Jiang Yu and reported:

“Sir, the aircraft’s weapons system has been inspected and is ready for ammunition resupply.”

“I have received orders from Commander Lei Jie to replace the heavy‑machine‑gun ammo with standard tungsten‑core armor‑piercing rounds, swapping out the current AP‑incendiary shells.”

“Understood.”

Jiang Yu gave a slight nod and replied:

“No problem, leave it to the pilot.”

“Load the ammunition as fully as possible—our next mission gives us only one sortie.”

“We need to coordinate with the regiment commander to deliver a devastating strike against the mountain city’s primary monster.”

“However, with our firepower we can at best only harass it.”

“The main assault remains the ground forces led by the commander; we’ll fire when we can, and if we cannot inflict substantive damage on the primary monster, we’ll focus on clearing the surrounding lesser creatures.”

“You must also prepare in advance; once on the battlefield, you must learn to adapt on the fly.”

“Understood!”

The gunner saluted Jiang Yu and then turned away.

He knew he had no time to hesitate, nor any time for fear.

Only by keeping his weapon in optimal condition could he hope to survive the battles ahead.

Watching his back, Jiang Yu felt an inexplicable surge of emotion he could not put into words.

It was hardly a heroic tragedy.

Yet it carried a certain resolute determination.

Wherever his eyes fell, everyone was marching toward the same battlefield.

This might not be the final decisive war.

Yet it is equally crucial.

And this battle.

In eighteen hours, it will officially commence.

(End of chapter)