Chapter 127: A Despicable Night Raid

Under the relentless assault of the coalition forces, the defensive magic array of the Forward Fortress could no longer hold. With a shimmering ripple of light, it disintegrated entirely.

Seeing the enemy’s magic array shattered, the morale of the coalition surged. Goblins and gnomes let out bestial howls, brandishing their weapons as they charged madly toward the fortress.

That evening, Sun Licheng gazed at the Forward Fortress, now blanketed in the remnants of smoke and fire, and let out a deep sigh.

After a single day of brutal combat, nearly half of the thousand battle automata had fallen, and eight gnome warriors from the Zhonghua Clan had been killed in action. The enemy, meanwhile, had left behind over two thousand corpses, not even counting those they had dragged away or those pulverized into mangled flesh.

"Mr. Handy, I finally understand why Qinglong said these inferior battle automata were unreliable."

Watching the ghastly battlefield, Sun Licheng, stained with blood and grime, patted the large head of Mr. Handy and spoke softly.

In the high-intensity combat of the day, many automata repaired with substandard materials had simply fallen apart during the heat of battle. Ordinary steel was incapable of sustaining the automata's prolonged, violent movements—especially considering this steel had been in storage for tens of thousands of years and was already internally degraded.

Fortunately, even when these automata could no longer stand, they could still use their weapons to inflict heavy damage on the enemy, which prevented Sun Licheng from falling into a completely helpless state. Yet, even so, many of the automata would have to be abandoned after the battle, as they were beyond repair.

"Gather everyone for a meeting."

Sun Licheng sighed again and stood up, brushing the dust from his trousers as he spoke to Mr. Handy.

Soon, all the sub-commanders of the Zhonghua Clan gathered in the Forward Fortress’s council hall.

Sun Licheng looked at his companions, their figures still reeking of smoke and sulfur. A pang of sorrow struck his heart as he said quietly, "Prepare for a retreat."

Meanwhile, in the main camp of the Goblin Eastern Legion, Marshal Garnison, having just concluded a war council, was sipping tea. It was said that this tea was produced by the Zhonghua tribe and personally supervised by Sun Licheng; it tasted excellent, and in the resource-depleted Moon Alliance, such tea was a rare luxury.

Although the tea was fine, Garnison’s brow was furrowed tightly.

"Sun Licheng—that man is truly formidable."

He heaved a heavy sigh.

Among the various legions of the Goblin Kingdom, the Eastern Legion was undeniably the most powerful, and the troops Garnison had brought this time were the elite of the elite. To ensure his expeditionary force was fully armed and equipped, he had systematically raided several of the kingdom’s largest armories, selecting only the finest gear.

Yet, even such a powerful force had suffered a crushing blow today.

While today was intended as a probing attack, Garnison had held onto the fantasy of securing a swift victory against the small steel fortress. What he had not anticipated was that Sun Licheng had hidden so many battle automata and cannons. By the end of the day, not only had over a thousand gnomes been killed, but the elite Eastern Legion had also lost more than a thousand of its strongest soldiers. What pained the Marshal even more was the significant loss of his Eberl-Zoft eagles and cyclopes.

Although the resurrection scrolls he carried could revive most of the eagles and giants, the resurrected creatures would be physically frail for days and unable to participate in combat. More importantly, these resurrection scrolls were complex to craft and could not be produced by the Goblin Kingdom; once used, they were nearly impossible to replace. Furthermore, Sun Licheng had deployed one bizarre tactic after another, leaving the Marshal feeling completely out of his depth.

After dinner, an attendant lit the candles, and Garnison began to read. He had attained his current position partly due to his natural talent, but also due to his diligence. Even though today’s battle had not achieved his goals, it did not disrupt his habit of reading at night.

Just as he was deep in his book, a massive explosion erupted outside the tent. As an experienced soldier, Garnison grabbed his weapon and rushed out in the shortest possible time.

By the time he reached the outside, the camp was already ablaze, with explosions echoing incessantly. Most terrifyingly, the explosions were accompanied by thick, black smoke; soldiers were clutching their throats, collapsing to the ground in agony. The Marshal cautiously sniffed the air and was struck with horror.

"The smoke is poisonous! Have the soldiers scatter!" Garnison roared at his messenger.

As soon as he finished shouting, he realized the enemy might be taking advantage of the chaos to launch a raid, so he quickly called back the messenger and frantically ordered the entire army to remain on high alert.

Before the messenger could run two steps, chaos broke out outside the camp. Masses of dark, sinister battle automata lunged from the shadows, hacking at the goblins and hurling various explosives. In particular, the black-fish-glue bombs they threw were not only immensely powerful but also emitted lethal toxic smoke—even ogres were not spared if they inhaled it.

Relying on this potent equipment, the automata not only wiped out the outer perimeter guards but also inflicted massive casualties on the goblin camp.

However, the elite remained elite. Facing the sudden strike, the Eastern Legion displayed the caliber of a veteran force; led by officers at every level, they quickly ended the chaos and began to spontaneously counterattack.

The night-raid squad sent by Sun Licheng was, after all, small in number. Faced with the overwhelming numerical advantage of the goblins, they were eventually forced to retreat with regret.

Although the fighting ended, it took nearly the entire night for the camp to fall completely silent.

The next morning, the goblins and gnomes, having not slept all night, were bloodshot and exhausted.

Seeing his men in such a state, Marshal Garnison sighed and announced that the day's offensive would be suspended, allowing everyone to return to camp to recover their strength.

That night, Marshal Garnison specifically dispatched even more elite troops to guard the camp. However, he had not expected Sun Licheng to deploy a special type of artillery. This ordnance fired a massive barrage of shells at once, instantly blanketing sections of the camp and making life miserable for the soldiers of the Eastern Legion.

By the time the goblin army pursued them, the enemy had long since fled. But the moment they returned, the artillery harassment would begin anew. This tug-of-war lasted all night; even though the enemy did not break into the camp, everyone’s nerves were stretched so thin they could not sleep. Thus, on the third day, the Marshal sighed once more and declared that the entire army would continue to rest.

On the third night, the entire goblin and gnome coalition stayed wide awake, waiting for Sun Licheng’s raid—but to their surprise, until dawn broke, the "other shoe" never dropped.

"We've been played!" every soldier in the coalition thought to themselves.

Early on the fourth day, despite their poor mental state, the furious goblins and gnomes set out under the Marshal's command. Regardless of anything else, they were determined to vent the resentment of several days of lost sleep.