"Winch! Two more turns! Max tension!"
Goblin Chief Engineer Sarak stood beside me, banging her large wrench on the hideous mechanical monster.
It was a "Launcher" that looked less like a ballista and more like a dismantled heavy truck.
Its bow arms were rusted heavy-duty truck Leaf Springs dug out from old-world ruins. The bowstring was a heavy braided wire-rope salvaged from a ruined elevator shaft, thick as two fingers.
"But Chief..." An Ursine worker manning the winch panted. "The cable is groaning! She's gonna snap!"
"Don't stop until it snaps! That's material mechanics!" Sarak pulled down her goggles, revealing smoke-stained yellow teeth. "Load it! Load that 'Special Surprise'!"
A two-meter-long Rebar, sharpened to a needle point, was loaded into the slot.
I stood by, looking through the mono-telescope. The blue dashed line in my vision had already locked onto a Wolf Shaman in the distant command post.
My brain completed the ballistic calculation instantly. Instead of holding my breath like a traditional sniper, I calmly patted Sarak's helmet like operating a CNC machine.
"Elevation up 3 degrees. Fire."
TWANG—!!!
The sound wasn't a bowstring vibration, but more like two cars colliding head-on on a highway. The massive potential energy released by the leaf springs instantly pushed the heavy rebar to subsonic speed.
In my telescope vision, the Shaman in the distance, waving his staff trying to cast Bloodlust on the wolves, suddenly had his upper body turned into a red mist.
Momentum undiminished, the rebar penetrated two Wolf guards behind him, finally embedding deep into the frozen soil like a miniature steel tombstone.
Main Gate. The Kill Zone.
If long-range strikes were surgery, the melee below was an American football game—but without referees, fouls, only life and death.
I stood at the edge of the wall, watching the situation.
"Hold the Line!"
Brad's roar came through the earpiece, accompanied by dull impact sounds.
In my vision, the tower shield in Brad's hand was like a moving iron gate, swatting away a Warg trying to jump.
Beside him were thirty Ursine heavy infantry led by Bjorn. Holding wasteland-style shields, they formed an impenetrable Defensive Line.
The wolf pack crashed into this line like a black wave.
"Want to pass? No way!" Bjorn roared, smashing a werewolf's helmet flat with a hammer. "We are the muscle of this wall!"
Behind them was the Cat-kin archer phalanx led by Ron.
"Loose!"
No fancy arcing shots, just direct fire pursuing penetration. The Cat-kin's dynamic vision, combined with the industrial arrowheads I distributed, made every volley a precise "headcount reduction."
But that wasn't the deadliest part.
The deadliest were the "ghosts" wandering the edge of the battlefield.
I saw Lyn leading her S.R.U. squad, throwing glass bottles emitting green smoke into dense wolf clusters.
PSSSH—!
Not bombs, but Kaelas's carefully brewed "Happy Mist"—high-concentration tear gas mixed with a neurotoxin that caused respiratory spasms.
Wolf warriors instantly teared up, clutching their throats, rolling on the ground, then taken out by a hammer from an incoming Ursine.
I pushed up my glasses, reciting internally: Bears are Tanks, Cats are DPS, Foxes are Crowd Control. As long as no one disconnects, we can farm this raid all day.
However, just as I thought everything was under control, the wall beneath my feet shook violently.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
That vibration wasn't ordinary hoofbeats; it was something massive walking.
I whipped my head around, raising the telescope to the rear of the Wolf army.
In that instant, my pupils shrank.
Four behemoths smashed through the Wolf ranks, walking out slowly.
They looked like mutant giant rhinos, over ten meters long and nearly five meters high. But the scariest part wasn't their size, but their equipment—thick black iron armor plates riveted directly onto their flesh, covering 90% of their bodies. Sharp rams on their horns, and even wooden siege tower structures on their backs.
These weren't creatures.
These were four Bio-Tanks.
"Damn it."
I lowered the telescope, the ease gone. I knew this damn wasteland wouldn't let us win this easily.
I pressed the talk button, screaming into the mic:
"Brad! Bjorn! Retreat! Get back into the gate tunnel! You can't block that!"
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
"Sarak! Forget the truck springs! Bring out all your explosives!"
Watching the four steel beasts accelerating like runaway locomotives, I took a deep breath, heart pounding.
"Looks like we are facing the real Boss Fight."
"Retreat! Don't be a hero!"
I repeated the order frantically.
The defense line below contracted instantly. I saw Bjorn carrying two injured Ursine brothers, roaring as he plowed through the crowd back to safety. Ron led the archers to loose all explosive arrows at the last moment.
Arrows exploded on the Siege Beasts' heavy black iron armor, but it was like using firecrackers against tanks. The beasts didn't even lift their heads, charging with unstoppable momentum.
Their speed was up.
Four tons of muscle layered with a ton of bolted scrap armor, charging at fifty kilometers per hour. Forget flesh and blood; the kinetic energy was enough to shatter a concrete bunker.
"Fire! Aim for the legs!" I shouted.
"I'm trying! The damn target is moving too fast!" Sarak cranked the winch madly beside me.
TWANG—!
The thick rebar whistled out.
But this time, Lady Luck wasn't with us. The rebar grazed the first beast's shoulder armor, sparking brilliantly, but failed to penetrate.
"Missed!" Sarak threw the wrench down in anger. "Too late to reload!"
Three hundred meters.
Two hundred meters.
The ground shook like a magnitude seven earthquake. Dust from the wall fell into my collar.
"Can't stop it..." Zayla was pale beside me, gripping her blade. "That impact would smash the gate even if welded shut."
"Can't stop it, then let them slide."
I suddenly pushed up my glasses, a crazy light flashing in my eyes.
I slammed the channel switch to S.R.U.
"Lyn! Kaelas! Bring out all remaining Black Fire Oil! Don't light it! Repeat! Do NOT light it!"
"Huh?" Lyn's tearful voice came through. "Don't burn them?"
"No time to explain! Pour! Pour all the oil on the concrete slope in front of the gate! NOW!!!"
Though confused, out of blind trust, the Vulpine sappers obeyed.
I saw a dozen huge oak barrels pushed over.
GLUG—GLUG—
Sticky, black crude oil instantly covered the fifty-meter gentle slope in front of the gate, turning the rough concrete into a black river.
Meanwhile, the four Siege Beasts reached the bottom of the slope.
They saw the black liquid, but blind, beastly instinct drove them forward. Without even slowing down, they let out deafening roars, their heavy hooves tearing up the dirt as they charged straight onto the slick slope.
The first beast's front hooves landed and, like a cartoon character stepping on a banana peel, instantly lost grip.
Its massive body continued forward due to inertia, but this was no longer a charge, but—Drifting.
"ROAR?!!"
I heard the beast's panicked cry. Its four legs scrambled madly on the oil, trying to balance, but only made the fall worse.
CRASH!
Like an out-of-control bowling ball, it slammed sideways onto the slope, sliding along the oil, smashing viciously into the inverted triangle wall of the right bastion.
CLANG—!!!
A metal impact sound loud enough to shatter eardrums.
My "Star Fort" angled wall worked. The beast didn't smash through but was deflected by the angle, bouncing off like a billiard ball into the side cliff.
Brains splattered. Beast One, down.
Then the second. Tripped by the falling companion, it rolled into a ball, tumbling down the canyon side like a giant steamroller.
"YEAH!!!"
Cheers erupted on the wall.
But I didn't smile.
Because there was the third one.
It seemed smarter; the moment it hit the oil, it dug its sharp claws into the ground, trying to brake. Although sliding, its direction didn't deviate.
It was still locked dead on the main gate.
Though speed decreased, that single horn was still a battering ram, pointing straight at the concrete gate.
"Damn... oil layer too thin!" My pupils shrank. "It can still steer!"
The speedometer needle vibrated violently against the pin. Ahead, the gate loomed large—a crude assembly of iron-wood and reinforced stone that looked like an insult to modern structural engineering.
“Distance: Thirty meters,” I muttered, bracing my boots against the floorboards and locking my elbows.
“The speed?” Zayla’s voice was sharp, cutting through the roar of the over-pressurized boiler.
“Still enough to shatter the gate.”
"Move! Everyone move!" I screamed at the soldiers behind the gate, voice cracking.
But just then, I saw a golden figure.
He hadn't retreated into the tunnel. He had been hiding in the blind spot outside, waiting for this moment.
Brad.
"Brad! Are you crazy?!" I screamed into the radio. "That's not a werewolf! That's a tank! You'll be paste!"
He heard, but he didn't stop.
In my vision, the stupid football player watched the sliding beast trying to stabilize.
He didn't choose a head-on collision.
He activated [Savage Charge], but aimed not at the head, but at the left front leg joint that was struggling to grip the ground and bearing the full weight.
"KNEEL—DOWN!!!"
I couldn't hear his roar, but I read his lips.
He focused all his strength, the shield's hardness, and the skill bonus into this one collision.
CRACK!!!
A tooth-aching bone fracture sound reached the wall.
On the slippery oil, this wasn't just an impact, but a fatal leverage.
The beast's left leg snapped backward instantly.
Losing its only support point, under terrifying inertia, the massive body crashed forward, head smashing into the ground.
But it wasn't over. Inertia pushed it forward.
I saw Brad fly out from the recoil, rolling into a mud pit.
And the out-of-control beast slid along the ground like a derailed train, finally—
BOOM!!!
It didn't break the gate.
Its massive body crashed sideways into the concrete pillar of the doorframe, wedging dead there.
That heavy black iron armor, plus ten tons of flesh, instantly became a "Roadblock" made of flesh and blood, stronger than the concrete gate itself.
The gate was sealed shut.
Wolves outside couldn't get in; Cats inside couldn't get out.
The battlefield fell into deathly silence.
Seconds later, a trembling hand reached out from the mud pit, giving a thumbs-up.
Through the telescope, I saw Brad, face covered in oil and mud, lying in the pit, grinning at me, showing bloody teeth.
Though without a radio, I seemed to hear him say:
"How's that, Coach... was that... a perfect interception?"
On the wall, I exhaled a long breath, legs weak, collapsing onto the ground.
"Yeah." I smiled weakly. "That was definitely... the play of the season."
Question of the Day: What's the best use of oil in a battle?
(Click to grease the gears)
?? A) Fire.
Result: The Pyromaniac's Dream. High DPS. Visually stunning. But Alex says it's a waste of precious fuel. Boring efficiency wins again.
?? B) Lube (for sliding enemies).
Result: The Looney Tunes Strat. Winner. Watching a 5-ton Siege Beast do a split and crash into a wall is the peak of tactical comedy. Physics: Broken.
?? C) Cooking.
Result: The Afterparty. Once the beasts are dead, we have a mountain of meat and a lake of oil. Deep-fried Monster Steaks for everyone! Cholesterol: Critical.
Follow and Rate. The final showdown is near!