Location: The First Trench Line – Valley of Fallen Kings
The "Industrial Revolution" had hit a snag: Biology.
The White Tiger Sect Leader was vaporized, yes. But the Beast Tide didn't care. Three thousand mutated Spirit Beasts—armored rhinos, shadow wolves, and venomous hydras—charged over the corpses of the cultivators.
"Reload!" Su Mei screamed, her voice hoarse.
The Operators fumbled with hot cartridges. Their hands were shaking. A musket volley could stop a human. It could break a shield. But shooting a Steel-Hide Rhino was like shooting a tank with a pistol.
CRASH.
A massive Rhino smashed through the barbed wire, ignoring the lacerations. It plowed into the trench.
It wasn't a battle; it was a massacre. The Rhino gored three Operators instantly, tossing their broken bodies into the air.
"Panic detected," Lin Fan observed from the bunker. "Morale is failing."
He saw his soldiers—the servants he had liberated—dropping their guns and running.
Lin Fan didn't hesitate. He picked up a sniper rifle variant.
BANG.
He didn't shoot the Rhino. He shot the fleeing Squad Leader in the back of the head.
The Operators froze, looking at their dead commander.
"The Rhino might kill you," Lin Fan's voice boomed over the speakers, cold and metallic. "I will kill you. Hold the line, or you go into the furnace."
Fear of the Master outweighed fear of the Beast. The Operators turned back, screaming, and emptied their clips into the Rhino's eyes. It finally fell, sliding into the mud.
"Too slow," Lin Fan analyzed. "The kinetic stopping power is insufficient. Switch to chemical warfare."
He pressed a red button on his console. [Protocol: Greek Fire].
Along the front line, hidden pipes erupted.
Thick, black, viscous liquid sprayed out, coating the charging beasts and the muddy ground.
"Ignite," Lin Fan ordered.
Su Mei fired a single flare.
FWOOSH.
The valley turned into an oven. The Alchemical Napalm (a mix of oil and Fire Toad venom) stuck to the beasts' fur. It didn't just burn; it melted flesh.
The screams of the animals were deafening. The smell of burning hair and cooking meat washed over the trenches.
"It's effective," Lin Fan noted, watching the health bars of thousands of units drop rapidly. "But the smoke is blinding my snipers."
In the chaos, the Alliance cultivators—who had held back—used the smoke as cover.
"Advance!" Jian Chen roared, his face twisted with madness. "Use the burning beasts as shields! Charge through the fire!"
The Alliance was adapting. They drove the burning, dying animals into the trenches to clear the mines.
The war had turned into a meat grinder. And Lin Fan was just checking the RPM (Rotations Per Minute).