Apocalypse Gachapon

West City Wall

The two sides were engaged in fierce exchanges of fire. The arrival of the 10,000-strong 3rd Brigade of the 2nd Royal Guard on the walls and gates had greatly boosted the defenders’ morale.

While their numbers were substantial, they appeared sparse when spread across the magnificent expanse of the city walls.

The claim that “trains could run atop the walls” might be an exaggeration, but their width easily accommodated four lanes of traffic. In this extraordinary era, the demands of defensive installations and wall fortifications necessitated such dimensions.

On this “boulevard,” 10,000 soldiers didn’t occupy excessive space—especially since over half remained below as reserve forces.

Currently, all four Exquisite Floating Balls had converged here. With the Holy City’s air force neutralized, these flying machines roamed the skies above the city with impunity. While they dared not descend too low, their high-altitude positioning made them untouchable.

Missiles and rockets poured relentlessly toward the West City gates like an inexhaustible torrent. Under covering fire from their comrades, Li Qiang’s ranged unit continued picking off targets on the walls.

Priority targets were evolved capable of intercepting missiles and rockets. Operators of defensive installations came second. Ordinary guards weren’t worth expending precious green-tier ammunition on.

As the western sector became the focal point of assault, Cloud Peak’s forces had to advance closer, granting the wall-mounted defenses opportunities to retaliate.

Giant ballistae, massive catapults, and other siege weapons roared to life, initiating the battle’s first sustained exchange of attacks and counterattacks since hostilities began.

“See those damned things spewing black mist?”

Li Qiang summoned the captains, deputies, and squad leaders of his sniper team.

“Yes. Nasty business,” grumbled a hulking man whose physique suggested a frontline bruiser rather than a sniper—yet his marksmanship had earned him a transfer from Xia Lei’s command. “That foul wind blows the mist our way. One whiff and your head spins, ruins your aim.”

“The antidotes we took beforehand are the only reason we’re just dizzy,” Li Qiang said coldly. Known for his harsh discipline—a necessity for a latecomer establishing authority—his severity had become habitual. “Without them, we’d be lucky to just collapse.”

He issued crisp orders:

“All units disperse freely. You know your firing preferences—do as you will. Priority: targets intercepting our ranged attacks. Secondary: operators of defensive weapons, especially those black mist sprayers. Remember—thirty minutes only. When time’s up, withdraw immediately. No exceptions. We have special assignments afterward. Anyone who delays gets a bullet. Understood?”

The leaders nodded sharply. They knew Li Qiang’s threats weren’t empty. Anyone lingering for extra kills would indeed find themselves on the receiving end of his gun.

As the snipers dispersed to hunt, movement stirred among the western assault forces.

Farthest from the walls, a peculiar unit distinguished itself from Cloud Peak’s armored ranks. Clad only in simple silver-tier leather armor with short swords or daggers at their hips, they stood encircled by heavily armed comrades.

On the ground, they worked swiftly. Hybrid plant-metal platforms rose at angles as massive cannons were rolled into position—their barrels wide enough to swallow two men standing side by side, now aimed squarely at the Holy City.

“Reinforcements secured!”

“Angle adjustments complete!”

“Projectiles loaded!”

“Targets locked!”

“FIRE!”

Within minutes, three colossal artillery pieces stood ready. After final calibrations and shouted confirmations, they unleashed their payloads without hesitation.

BOOM! The first cannon’s discharge shook the earth. A torpedo-like projectile screamed across the sky, clearing the walls to plummet toward the city center.

The second and third followed in rapid succession.

The concussive force rattled the walls themselves. Yet the matte-black projectiles—emitting no sparks or trails—streaked nearly invisibly through the night.

Their creator, Le Dayuan, had dubbed these behemoths “Candy Siege Cannons”—a nod to the little girl whose contributions proved indispensable.

These weapons represented the marriage of magic crystal technology and alchemical engineering.

“Type-1 rounds expended! Prepare Type-2!”

“Disassembly/reassembly complete! Type-2 loaded!”

“Five-second calibration!”

“FIRE!”

With startling efficiency, the three cannons were dismantled, reconfigured with additional curved plating, and merged into a single gargantuan siege weapon. The platform beneath consolidated and elevated slightly.

Now the barrel could nearly accommodate Yangos—wings folded.

KABOOM! The seismic blast momentarily halted all other combat as a cluster of massive spheres arced toward the walls.

Ten projectiles in total, they deployed metal fins mid-flight, weaving erratic paths that defied interception.

“Energy recharge! Prep Type-2 second volley!”

The crew didn’t bother assessing damage, already preparing the next strike.

Then—from within the Holy City—lumbered several colossal orbs of light.

They barely cleared the walls, moving sluggishly compared to Cloud Peak’s hypervelocity munitions.

Yet their appearance sent waves of alarm through the Western assault forces.

At the command center, Guang Yao and Liang Chuyin stood side by side. This was their sector—Guang Yao as lead commander, the “Internet Celebrity” as deputy.

An arrangement befitting their temperaments.

“Such potent necrotic energy,” Liang Chuyin murmured. “Hard to believe anything surpasses the Undead Dragonfish’s aura.”

Guang Yao nodded. “Your show now. Stop them.”

“Roger!” She snapped her fingers, a squad falling in behind her.

“Stay safe. Or Zhongming will have my head.”

A grin. “Uncle, I like your sense of humor.”

Guang Yao’s eye twitched.

Uncle?!