Chapter 631: The Frontline

Now, the fire outside the camp wall is raging, almost licking the wall as it burns, the flames reaching about half the height of the wall. Standing atop the wall, you can feel the scorching heat, sweat streaming down in sheets.

This is the southern side, and after dawn, the temperature shoots up rapidly—the camp wall is like a roasting oven.

“This won’t do! We need saltwater! Tell the supply battalion to prepare large amounts of saltwater for the soldiers to drink, otherwise they’ll be dehydrated in no time.”

Chen Zifang, who had come along, was found by Shen Hao halfway and talked into leaving. An alchemist—even if he has some Cultivation, what does he know of slaughter? Following along would be utterly useless; it’s better to let him work on something he’s good at.

Chen Zifang was indeed a bit panicked. He never expected to be caught in such a life-or-death situation, and seeing even Cheng Jinhou’s Personal Guard pressed into battle, he realized just how dire the crisis had become.

But fortunately, he was clever. Seeing Shen Hao head down, he quickly followed. He believed that instead of fighting beside total strangers, teaming up with Shen Hao was the better bet. From what he had seen of Shen Hao these days, he was certain Shen Hao was reliable on the battlefield.

Yet Chen Zifang didn’t expect that before he even saw any action, Shen Hao would find another excuse to send him off to do something else.

Being hot and needing to drink water—that’s normal, but why saltwater? Since the sweat is salty, does that mean you have to make up for it by drinking saltwater too?

Chen Zifang wanted to ask, but now wasn’t the time. Still, he was grateful in his heart, understanding that Shen Hao was helping him. As Chief of Miscellaneous Affairs, Shen Hao had every right to handle such logistical details, not to mention Chen Zifang himself was skilled in this field; what he did was equally a contribution to the frontline.

“Alright, I’ll go prepare it now! Be careful out there!” Chen Zifang nodded to Shen Hao, cupped his fists and turned away. Shen Hao, meanwhile, led his thirty-odd Personal Guards toward the east.

The numbers were much smaller now. The reason—earlier, dozens of Captain Xu’s men had already been pulled away. The Personal Guards were only kept to this moment because they were the last reserve and because of the Inspector’s presence.

Arriving at the base of the camp wall, it was clear that the soldiers had truly been exhausted—wounded and fallen men carpeted the ground below. The grievously wounded wailed in pain but almost no one tended to them—if they couldn’t be saved, they were given basic first aid and left to fate. Whether they lived or died, there simply wasn’t anything others could do.

As for the dead soldiers, there was no time to clear them away—they just lay together, a sight of utter misery.

Shen Hao suddenly realized that on his way here, he hadn’t seen any specially trained medical soldiers; only the supply battalion people were filling in, and both their numbers and efficiency were alarmingly low.

He took note, but knew now was not the time to bring it up.

They received weapons from the supply battalion below. There were large shields and long spears. None of them were new; bloodstains were still clear on the surfaces. No need to ask—these must have belonged to fallen comrades. There were still many piled in the corners.

“You all know the line formation, right? Good. Large shields in front, long spears behind.”

“Cultivation levels? Those at the middle stage of Qi Refining don’t need shield and spear—use whatever weapon you’re comfortable with and wait behind the lancers. If any powerful beast gets on the wall, you’re the ones to handle it!

Remember, if you can’t handle it, don’t panic. Two of you go together, and if it’s really impossible, grab onto it. The brothers behind you will get you a one-for-one trade. Don’t be afraid! We’ve all come through this way—at worst, you die. Your merit will not be lost; it will be recorded in full, a blessing to your descendants. What? You’re still a bachelor? Who else but you is to blame for not finding a wife?”

Shen Hao’s Personal Guards were likewise split into two groups. Those at the initial stage of Qi Refining took up shield and spear; the rest, in the middle and late realms, gripped their Yanji Sabers and followed behind.

“Sir, the Barbarian Race has many elites making sudden attacks. Please patrol this section of the wall, and if any signal for reinforcements comes up, please provide support.”

A Deputy General solemnly cupped his fists and gave Shen Hao the assignment. Shen Hao naturally agreed; this was exactly what he had come here to do.

The three guards who always followed him were also grim-faced. Wherever Shen Hao went, they followed in silence. Only they knew if they truly wanted to fight—their main concern was still their escort mission ordered by the Commander’s Office.

Relying solely on oil bombs had indeed slowed the high-intensity siege outside the camp wall, but oil bombs were dangerous and unstable—just storing them was a problem. Even in massive upper military camps like this, the stockpile wasn’t much; using them to block the enemy couldn’t last long.

Within the time of a meal, all the oil bombs were spent. The ground reeked of burnt stench and the temperature was terrifying. But the Barbarian Race didn’t care—they sounded their unique beast-roar trumpet and launched another full-scale assault, truly giving the defenders no chance to catch their breath.

This time, among the charging barbarian soldiers were several pig-men with huge heads and tusks, bodies rolling with fat, their backs loaded with massive bags, all filled with freshly-dug soil. It looked like they were preparing for the next time oil bombs were used—to put out the flames?

No—their real aim wasn’t just putting out fires, but raising the level of the ground outside the wall!

When they were about twenty-five paces from the camp wall, right in a dead zone unreachable by feathered arrows, they began building a ramp of earth. Judging by their moves, this was well-drilled. The pig-men dumped loads of soil into a mound, drew shovels from their waists, and in no time, were shoveling rapidly, shaping the ramp into a sloped face, gradually raising its height.

Shen Hao quickly experienced the ferocity of this siege. Just half an hour, and he was soaked—even inside his inner armor. Some of it was sweat, but much more was blood. His own—and the enemy’s.

The main pressure came as manpower grew more and more scarce. Facing the Barbarian Race’s unending charges, they became weaker and weaker, each barbarian needing three or four spear thrusts to be brought down. Alongside that, with the large shield line thinning, the gray snake grass poison sacs became a nightmare—soldiers with shredded flesh on arms and shoulders weren’t cut there by the enemy, but bleeding from slicing themselves open, and there wasn’t even time for a proper bandage; they just tore strips from their uniforms and wrapped up to keep holding the line.

After just a few circuits along the east wall, Shen Hao saw some stretches defended by only two ragged rows of men.

Worse still, wooden spears were being hurled up from below. At first, the angle meant they couldn’t really trouble the defenders, mostly just falling short or sailing harmlessly. But within the time it took to eat a meal, the angle improved—now some were sticking on landing and causing casualties.

This was exactly what the ever-growing earth mounds out there were for.

An unlucky fellow had his belly pierced through by a wooden spear and collapsed, screaming in pain. The big shield before him had grown sparse; it couldn’t protect him. Scenes like this were getting more frequent, adding even more pressure.