Chương 115: The Unspeakable Affliction Curse

"Fire!!" Gobu Boom roared at the top of his lungs. Six field guns, having been stealthily pushed to within five hundred meters of the human encampment, unleashed their raw fury. A devastating salvo of grape shot erupted from the barrels. The human camp was a rudimentary layout at best. Sprawled across the open plains was a vast sea of canvas tents, entirely devoid of trench systems or protective palisades.

The bloated army group had simply marched too fast to dig in, relying on nothing more than a crude outer perimeter formed by tethered draft animals and transport wagons. The storm of iron pellets tore into the densely packed sleeping quarters, shredding through the canvas tents like paper. Countless human soldiers were violently obliterated by the flying lead before they could even rouse themselves from their slumbers.

"Kill! Kill! Kill!!!" Li Qinwu unleashed a savage battle cry, leading his three hundred and ten system-bound elites as they surged directly into the smoking gaps of the camp. Swinging his massive greatsword, Li Qinwu clove through a panicked draft beast with a single, sweeping strike. He turned to his men, his voice booming over the din:"Slaughter the livestock! Put their wagons to the torch! Burn every tent to the ground!!"

The musketeers drove the cold steel barrels of their firearms directly against the necks of the tethered beasts, executing them on the spot. Simultaneously, the Incinerators began rapidly manifesting massive fireballs, launching them into the heavily laden logistics wagons, while the standard Punisher soldiers thrust ignited torches into the dry canvas tents, aggressively accelerating the conflagration and chaos.

The human soldiers were thrust into absolute pandemonium, yet their veteran instincts allowed them to react with remarkable speed. Squadded night-patrols began organizing on the fly, rushing toward the blazing sectors in a desperate bid to contain the threat. Anticipating their movement, Li Qinwu pulled a heavy demolition charge from his pack, adjusted the fuse, and hurled it directly into the path of the incoming reinforcements.

A deafening blast shook the earth, launching a grotesque cloud of pulverized human anatomy into the night sky. A hundred-man patrol force was instantly decimated, half its number bowled over by the shockwave while the survivors suffered an immediate wipeout of their morale, scattering in blind panic and further paralyzing the camp's response. Yet, an overwhelming tide of reinforcements was beginning to converge on their position from every cardinal direction.

Li Qinwu smoothly drew his twin hand-cannons and charged headlong into an advancing human column. He pulled both triggers simultaneously. A massive cone of buckshot erupted from the wide barrels, painting the dark air with heavy mist as the lead plowed into the cluster of soldiers. While the close-range blast ripped several men to shreds, a significant portion of the elite human infantry managed to absorb the kinetic impact, their thick, heavy plate armor deflecting the pellets.

Without skipping a beat, Li Qinwu pulled another demolition charge from his belt, set it for an instantaneous detonation, and cast it forward. BOOM! The localized blast instantly tore the human formation apart. Lifting his heavy greatsword with both hands, Li Qinwu leaped straight into the chaotic mass of survivors. He swung the massive blade in a series of violent, unrelenting arcs, converting the immediate grid into a horrific spectacle of flying limbs and agonizing shrieks.

Within seconds, he was completely drenched from head to toe in human blood. His three hundred and ten system soldiers anchored themselves tightly to his flanks. Bound by the absolute, unyielding parameters of the system mechanics, they were physically incapable of breaking formation or scattering in panic. They maintained a flawless, claustrophobic box formation, systematically generating a massive tactical superiority in numbers within their immediate micro-engagement zone.

Equipped with standard muskets and a full complement of hand-cannons, the detachment operated like a clockwork engine of death—discharging their primary long-guns, transitioning seamlessly to their sidearms, and immediately tossing torches onto the surrounding tents. Within minutes, a substantial sector of the human encampment was entirely swallowed by a roaring sea of fire. Li Qinwu drove deep into another fresh human line like a rampaging bull, his blade tracing a non-stop path of execution.

Possessing a raw Strength attribute of 25 points—a threshold that exceeded an ordinary human being by more than two and a half times—there was not a single mortal soldier capable of withstanding the sheer kinetic force of his blows. He systematically cut down over twenty men in rapid succession, completely dismantling the hostile regiment. Yet, a creeping sensation of physical fatigue began to seep into his limbs; the unbridled, explosive expenditure of physical force had severely drained his stamina reserves.

Glancing across the landscape, he noted that the localized inferno had reached its peak, and an increasingly massive volume of enemy regiments was rapidly closing in to encircle his position. Lingering any longer would be an act of sheer stupidity. He immediately barked the command: "Retreat!!" If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Wheeling about, he led his compact detachment in a disciplined sprint, vanishing into the pitch-black cover of the night before the human columns could pin them down. Once the three hundred-odd troops had successfully navigated their way back to a secure, remote staging area, Li Qinwu let out a long, boisterous laugh.

The moment they cleared the active combat zone, the battlefield system automatically calculated the engagement metrics: this singular, lightning-fast night raid had claimed the lives of exactly 412 enemy combatants, while his own force had sustained an absolute total of zero casualties. If he maintained this systematic process of asymmetric attrition, the human warlord's massive host would inevitably bleed to death! Li Qinwu pulled up his personal attribute interface.

He had accumulated 3 unallocated attribute points from his recent level-ups, and he promptly invested all of them directly into his Control stat, raising it to a solid 15. Furthermore, his Two-Handed Weapons proficiency had officially breached the threshold of 101, unlocking a new choice between two passive perks. Without hesitation, Li Qinwu selected Swift Strike, granting him a flat 10% increase to his overall swing speed with two-handed armaments.

More importantly, the perk contained a unique utility: whenever he personally executed an enemy using a two-handed weapon, his subordinate soldiers would receive a passive allocation of experience points. In addition, his Throws proficiency had reached 68, as the system naturally categorized his manual deployment of heavy demolition charges under the umbrella of throwing weapons. He was presented with another binary perk selection: [Athlete]: Your throwing distance is increased by 25%.

[Unfailing Precision]: Your throwing accuracy is increased by 10%. The combination of these two perks instantly converted Li Qinwu's manual arm into a piece of heavy artillery. Within a fifty-meter radius, he could now place a demolition charge on a literal dime. Shifting his focus to the unit management sub-menu, he reviewed his three hundred and ten troops. Every single one of them was currently a Tier 2 Large Goblin.

Among them, forty-eight individuals had successfully accumulated enough combat experience to trigger an upgrade path. Li Qinwu spent the requisite system funds to advance them into Tier 3 Goblin Marksmen, promptly transferred them out of his immediate raiding party, and recruited a fresh batch of Tier 2 Large Goblins to top off his numbers. Executing these low-risk, high-reward night raids was proving to be an exceptionally flawless channel for grinding and leveling his forces.

With the logistical management completed, Li Qinwu turned to his waiting battalions and issued a fresh sequence of directives:"Rest for exactly one hour. Polish your weapons, maintain your gear, and top off your ammunition reserves. We launch the next assault the moment the hour marks!

"Artillery detachment—maintain a static position at your absolute maximum effective range. Execute a single, synchronized bombardment cycle once every ten minutes.

"Gobu Run, take your Spider Cavalry. Every single rider is to be packed with two loaded muskets. Advance to a distance of two hundred meters from the human camp perimeter and execute high-mobility harassment fire. Fire your pieces and immediately break contact. Do not prioritize surgical accuracy, and under no circumstances are you to draw too close to their lines. Keep a sharp eye out for their magic-users." Having finalized the tactical layout, Li Qinwu dropped flat onto the grass to rest his aching muscles.

He desperately wanted to catch a brief window of sleep, but his nervous system was far too stimulated by the adrenaline of the slaughter; his mind remained frustratingly wired. Recognizing that a lack of rest would severely compromise his operational efficacy down the line, Li Qinwu pushed himself up and summoned the Kobold Shaman, who was resting nearby.

"Do you possess any manner of hypnotic incantations? Something that can induce instantaneous sleep?" The capacity to fall asleep on command was an immensely vital strategic asset, especially within the paradigm of cold-weapon warfare. If a commander could consciously plunge into a deep sleep at any given interval to maximize physical recovery, it constituted a massive competitive advantage. The Kobold Shaman simply tilted its canine head, blinking its large eyes.

"No can do, Boss." Li Qinwu's brow furrowed in mild confusion.

"Then what manner of spells do you actually possess at this point?" From the moment they had linked up, the Kobold Shaman had only ever manifested two distinct arcane abilities. The first was the Fear Curse, which Li Qinwu had effectively commandeered as a crude tool for extracting prophecies.

The second was the Inspire Curse —a area-of-effect buff that could plunge several hundred subordinate kobolds into a state of unbridled combat hysteria, allowing them to completely ignore physical pain for roughly three to five minutes, though it was invariably followed by a severe, immediate physical crash. Furthermore, the buff possessed a strict biological restriction: it only functioned on fellow kobolds. And that was the absolute extent of the creature's magical repertoire.

Hearing his chieftain inquire about its arcane arsenal, the Kobold Shaman's eyes instantly crinkled into two gleeful, crescent moons.

"Boss! I have been praying day and night to the Great Dragon of Curses! She was profoundly moved by my unyielding piety and sincerity, and just recently, she bestowed upon me an exceptionally malevolent, ultra-high-tier super hex! It inflicts a devastating combination of psychological and physiological trauma upon the target! It is a supreme dark art that even the Gods themselves look upon with absolute dread!!" Li Qinwu's strategic focus was instantly galvanized. He leaned in close, his eyes wide.

"What?! What manner of spell is it?!" A thoroughly wicked, unsettling grin spread across the Kobold Shaman's face, its long pink tongue lolling out of its jaws as it let out a sequence of sinister, breathless cackles:"Keke... Wang-wang-wang! Boss, I have successfully mastered the Unspeakable Affliction Curse!!" Li Qinwu's entire facial expression instantly froze.

"... Huh? The what?" The Kobold Shaman's sinister grin widened, its eyes gleaming with an erratic, chaotic light.

"Boss! It's the Unspeakable Affliction Curse —the ultimate secret of hemorrhoidal agony! Boss, do you want to experience its glorious efficacy firsthand?! I can manifest the hex upon you right this second!" As the words left its jaws, the tiny creature enthusiastically hoisted its bone staff into the air, a dark, deeply unsettling purplish miasma of chaotic, malevolent energy beginning to coalesce around the apex of the implement.

Before the spell could even begin to take shape, Li Qinwu cleanly extended his boot and kicked the kobold straight into a nearby drainage ditch.

"Get the hell out of here, you complete idiot! A dog-crap curse for chronic hemorrhoids?! Is that accursed Dragon of Curses running a damn back-alley urology clinic?!"