Chương 119: The War of Siege and Defense

Following his midnight triumph, Li Qinwu used his accumulated combat experience to upgrade his active units, securing an additional 43 highly accurate Goblin Marksmen and further elevating the baseline lethality of his army. Next, he deployed salvage details to strip the battlefield. Over a thousand human corpses—all clad in high-grade, interlocking plate armor—were dragged back to the city storage units.

Once cleaned and refitted for goblin anatomy, these iron suits would instantly birth a fresh brigade of one thousand heavy infantrymen for the Punisher Army. Across the plain, the massive human encampment was paralyzed in chaotic disarray. Having sustained a profoundly bloody trauma during the night raid, not a single human commander dared to deploy their men within range of the city walls to disrupt the cleanup.

Li Qinwu's details looted the dead in absolute tranquility, returning behind the iron sally ports within twenty minutes with a bounty of one thousand complete weapon sets and suits of armor. The sun rose swiftly across the horizon, and order was gradually restored across the human lines. However, as the common conscripts stared at the gruesome spectacle of over a thousand mangled corpses rotting at the base of the ramparts, their collective morale plummeted into absolute ruin.

Arriving at the forward trenches, Count Fischer evaluated the visibly withered posture of his frontline divisions. Knowing that allowing this psychological rot to fester would guarantee a catastrophic failure, he turned to his chief quartermaster and issued a series of aggressive directives.

"Distribute the alcohol reserves to the lines immediately. Order the field kitchens to stew rich meat broths for the midday meal—ensure every single soldier receives a hearty ration. Furthermore, authorize the immediate, advanced distribution of next month's military wages. Hand the coin to them now!" The quartermaster bowed deeply, offering a respectful counter-proposal: "Your orders shall be executed, My Lord.

However, our immediate liquor reserves are highly restricted; I suggest we confine the alcohol distribution strictly to the frontline excavation units while dispatching urgent couriers to demand bulk shipments from our rear depots.

"Additionally, our primary supply lines are short on fresh meat; I recommend authorizing select detachments to sweep into the forests located ten li away to conduct bulk hunting operations." While framed as a standard hunting venture, the operational reality of the directive was plain to every veteran officer present: it was a direct license to launch a campaign of systematic plunder and rape across the remaining rural communes. Count Fischer offered a callous nod of approval.

"An excellent adjustment. See to it immediately." The swift execution of these administrative incentives yielded an immediate turnaround. The psychological posture of the common conscripts soared, particularly along the dangerous forward lines where common soldiers were suddenly gifted rations of highly prized vintage spirits. The velocity of their excavation work accelerated dramatically.

Tens of thousands of human laborers, driving thousands of independent trench lines into the earth, successfully interconnected their works before twilight, establishing a massive, continuous siege trench matrix. A vast sea of heavy human infantry immediately flooded into the subterranean lines, establishing a permanent forward presence. Standing atop the stone battlements, Li Qinwu watched the development with a grim frown.

His window for asymmetric midnight raids had officially slammed shut; the enemy was now completely insulated beneath the earth, forcing him to play a passive game of observation. Having finalized their defensive trench matrix, the human commanders immediately pivoted to the assembly of heavy assault apparatus. Massive labor details wielding felling axes systematically stripped the distant groves, assembling towering Siege Towers.

These colossal, wooden structures were designed to match the precise twenty-five-meter elevation of Poloia's primary ramparts. Their multi-tiered top decks could house dozens of heavy shock infantry, while their forward framework was heavily reinforced with thick timber mantlets to absorb incoming missile volleys.

According to conventional doctrine, once these massive structures were wheeled against the masonry, their front-facing protective boarding would be dropped forward to serve as a massive assault ramp, allowing heavy shock infantry to storm onto the battlements exactly like a modern amphibious landing craft. However, because these siege towers were so colossally massive, their kinetic weight was immense.

Moving a single unit required dozens of heavy Earth-Drakes harnessed to the chassis, a continuous flooring of raw tree trunks laid across the dirt to serve as a corduroy road, and meticulously pre-surveyed paths to ensure the monstrosities did not tip over on uneven terrain. Yet, just as the engineers finalized the framing, Archmage Fortier stepped forward, rudely halting the entire engineering initiative. The old登 stared at the gathered vassal lords as if evaluating a collection of absolute sand-fishes.

"My esteemed Lords... has the collective trauma of the past few days completely erased your memory regarding the enemy's thunder-engines? You are authorizing the assembly of twenty-five-meter wooden towers. Are you trying to provide their kinetic iron balls with the largest, most stationary target format on this continent?" The assembled nobles fell into a stunned, crimson-faced silence. Mother of God... we drifted into historical inertia.

They had blindly defaulted to conventional siege methodologies, entirely forgetting that the demon host possessed high-velocity projectile weapons. In a traditional cold-weapon conflict, a siege tower was the single most lethal apparatus available to an invading force, possessing the unique capacity to completely erase the vertical geometric superiority of a stone fortress wall.

After all, a general could not rely solely on rudimentary ladders to carry a major fortress; forcing common infantrymen to execute a vertical ninety-degree climb up a bare wall was an exercise in pure futility. A single disciplined defender dropping common stones from the ramparts could easily hold a massive sector against a hundred climbers.

The vassal lords immediately adjusted their operational parameters, pivoting to an engineering blueprint that featured a significantly lower profile, vastly reduced weight, and superior mobility: the Mechanized Escalade Ramp—commonly known as the Cloud Ladder. The architectural profile of a Cloud Ladder was remarkably similar to a modern mechanical fire-engine. The base consisted of a heavily reinforced, low-profile wooden wagon chassis, upon which sat a massive, segmented folding ladder framework.

This apparatus was exponentially lighter than a conventional siege tower; a single crew of roughly one hundred infantrymen could easily manually push the vehicle across raw dirt. Upon closing the distance to the target masonry, the crew would utilize a system of heavy winches and ropes to extend the folding ladder, driving heavy iron structural hooks into the lip of the battlement to create a solid, forty-five-degree inclined ramp scaling upward.

Granted, the raw offensive efficacy of a Cloud Ladder was substantially lower than that of a siege tower. A siege tower delivered a fully formed infantry block onto the battlements in perfect formation, and select models were even engineered to overtop the ramparts, granting the attackers the absolute advantage of firing down upon the defenders.

With a Cloud Ladder, the assault conscripts were still forced to manually sprint up a steep forty-five-degree incline, meaning the garrison retained their absolute height advantage. However, traditional defensive counters—such as dropping loose logs or large rocks—became completely ineffective against the angled structure. While a Cloud Ladder lacked the absolute shock value of a tower, it remained vastly superior to a vertical ladder.

Furthermore, because the core chassis sat exceptionally low to the earth, the human commanders reasoned that the enemy's direct-fire iron-ball engines would lack the necessary depression angles to strike them. This assumption was based entirely on their extensive generational experience operating heavy ballistas and springalds; those massive defensive engines lacked negative articulation when mounted on high walls, and they assumed the demon's thunder-weapons operated under the identical mechanical constraints.

The minor lords immediately authorized the rapid assembly of over forty Cloud Ladders. Simultaneously, Count Fischer commanded his subterranean labor details to drive a cluster of specialized approach trenches directly toward the weak link in Poloia's perimeter. This was the exact vector where Li Qinwu had previously detonated his massive black-powder breach.

While the lower ten meters had been painstakingly reconstructed with massive stone blocks, the remaining fifteen-meter vertical void above it consisted entirely of ad-hoc wooden palisades and heavy timber bracing. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. The human infantry excavated five parallel approach trenches, methodically grinding their way toward the shattered sector.

The moment they drew near the outer defensive ditch, the human sappers ceased open excavation and shifted to driving enclosed subterranean mining tunnels, completely insulating their digging crews from direct musket fire. Several days dissolved in a blur of non-stop digging. The specialized mining tunnels eventually anchored themselves directly beneath the wooden framework of the breach, their exit vectors heavily reinforced with thick timber framing.

At that moment, the human Battle-Mages formally entered the theater. Crawling through the dark, cramped confines of the mining tunnels, the magi crowded into the forward exit chambers. Channeling their internal reserves to the absolute limit, they began to systematically manifest high-tier Fireball matrices, drawing upon every ounce of their mana before violently projecting the concentrated elemental spheres directly up into the base of the wooden palisades. BOOM! BOOM! CRASH!!!

A succession of seven to eight maximum-output elemental detonations rocked the base of the breach. The explosive thermal expansion slammed into the ad-hoc wooden wall, instantly snapping the structural anchor posts and reducing the heavy timber framework to a scarred, structurally compromised, and wildly swaying ruin that teetered on the absolute brink of total collapse. Alerted by his forward line officers, Li Qinwu scrambled to the threatened sector.

Peering down from the battlements, he witnessed the telltale blinding flashes of high-velocity explosion spells erupting from the mouths of the subterranean tunnels, violently dismantling his defensive woodwork. Without a moment's hesitation, he unslung a heavy demolition charge from his gear, its external fuse meticulously clipped to a precise five-second burn duration.

Sparks flew as he ignited the cord with a minor ignition spell, before cleanly hurling the explosive canister directly down into the primary tunnel mouth. BOOM!!! A cataclysmic, earth-shattering detonation ripped through the earthwork. The immense overpressure instantly caused the primary mining tunnel to experience a total structural collapse, crushing the mages inside under tons of displaced dirt and instantly liquidating the spellcasters who had been actively channeling their matrices.

However, the human sappers had driven multiple independent exit vectors. While the demolition blast forced a brief, panicked pause across their lines, the adjacent mages quickly recovered and resumed their relentless bombardment of the wooden wall. Realizing his current inventory of demolition charges was strictly limited to twenty-seven units, Li Qinwu recognized the need to preserve his high-value ordnance for the main assault.

Turning to Goblin Mao, he snapped a sharp command: "Get the Incinerator Squad up here right now!" Within minutes, four swift war-spiders tore across the stone battlements, dropping off a detachment of ten specialized Incinerator Goblins at the vector. Li Qinwu pointed a clawed hand at the subterranean tunnel mouths vomiting fire below.

"You see those extraction holes? Flood them with fireballs!" The Incinerators moved with instant, lethal precision. Locking their focus onto the targets, they channeled their entire internal mana reserves, causing true Fireball matrices to rapidly manifest within their palms. Unlike human spellcasters, these specialized goblin variants required no expensive staves or external focuses; the vibrant crimson runes permanently etched across their skin served as an organic magical script.

As they drew upon their power, the geometric lines flashed with a blinding, rhythmic light, guiding the raw mana along their skin to coalesce into spheres of dark-red, intensely viscous, and sticky elemental flame. Four concentrated fireballs plummeted from the high stone walls, plunging deep into the open tunnel mouths where they detonated in a chorus of agonized human shrieks.

A handful of human mages had just finished manifestation cycles and were preparing to step forward when the sticky goblin flames erupted directly in their faces. The volatile, gelatinous fire instantly flooded the narrow confines of the tunnel.

"AAAGHH! GODS, IT BURNS! MERCY!!!" The mages trapped within the forward chambers were thoroughly coated in the viscous elemental fluid. The intense heat instantly incinerated their expensive silk robes, clinging directly to their bare flesh and melting through muscle tissue with terrifying speed. In that horrific fraction of a second, the aristocratic, highborn masters of the arcane found themselves enduring the exact same agonizing, unglamorous death as the common conscripts they looked down upon.

Yet, the human magi were undeniably highly trained professionals. The backup elements stationed further down the rear shafts, who had avoided direct contact with the gelatinous fire, immediately mobilized to channel Water Orb matrices, projecting streams of pressurized water to douse the screaming, burning spellcasters.

"Move! Coordinate your inputs and manifest Heal matrices immediately! They are suffering from second-degree thermal trauma—we can still stabilize their physical forms!!" the senior circle leader roared, forcing his subordinates into motion. The medical infrastructure of this world remained profoundly primitive precisely because high-tier Heal spells possessed the capacity to reverse almost any physiological trauma, including severe third-degree burns.

Working in perfect synchronization, several mages projected glowing spheres of restorative light directly into the scorched bodies of their comrades, forcing the ruined flesh into an accelerated cycle of cellular regeneration. As seven to eight consecutive healing matrices flooded the victims' bodies, the intense, localized neural shock caused the burned mages to instantly pass out from the sheer agony of the rapid restructuring.

Their blackened, split flesh knit back together at a visible pace, systematically sealing the wounds until the skin regained roughly eighty percent of its original structural integrity. Severe thermal trauma was notoriously difficult to mend; restoring eighty percent of the flesh was considered an absolute triumph of the arcane arts.

The mangled mages were quickly evacuated to the rear medical tents, while the remaining casting circles utilized continuous water spells to systematically purge the residual goblin fire from the tunnel mouths. However, the psychological damage had been done; the survivors were visibly trembling, terrified to step anywhere near the open exits to project further spells.

Seeing his casting circles faltering in hesitation, the lead human mage delivered a harsh, echoing rebuke: "Assisting Count Fischer in breaching this stronghold is a direct, unyielding mandate from Professor Fortier himself! Furthermore, that high-value Mana Tide Observation Instrument inside the city is a vital asset that must be recovered at all costs! Channel your matrices immediately, shatter that wooden wall, and open the path for our main infantry divisions!"

The mages huddled inside the dark tunnel exchanged tense, defensive glances. Not a single individual mobilized. They were highborn lords of nobility; forcing their refined persons to crawl through a filthy, mud-choked ditch was already an intolerable insult to their station. To now ask them to endure the risk of permanent physical disfigurement or an agonizing death was simply beyond the scope of their academic contracts!

Seeing that his authority was entirely ineffective against his peers, the lead mage let out a frustrated sigh. They were all roughly equal in academic rank and station; forcing compliance through raw seniority was functionally impossible. Adopting a more conciliatory tone, he offered a compromise: "Very well... let us command the infantry to surrender several sets of heavy iron plate. We shall wrap ourselves in thick canvas layering and thoroughly saturate the material with water.

With that shielding, the primitive fireballs from the battlements will pose no threat to our persons." The casting circles murmured in collective agreement; it was an exceptional piece of ad-hoc engineering. With that layer of insulation, even if they sustained a direct hit from a goblin fireball, they would possess more than enough operational time to scramble back down the shaft and allow their peers to douse the flames with water spells.

With the immediate threat to their personal survival neutralized, the human mages accelerated their bombardment cadence. High-velocity kinetic mana spheres slammed into the wooden palisades in a continuous, rhythmic rhythm, sending massive showers of splinters flying through the air as sections of the ad-hoc wall began to ignite. High above, the Goblin Incinerators maintained a non-stop barrage of fireballs into the pits below.

However, because the human mages were now encased in ad-hoc "hazmat suits" and backed by non-stop water support from their peers, the magical artillery duel devolved into a pure war of attrition. A few minutes later, following the simultaneous, synchronized impact of two maximum-output explosion spells, the charred, heavily fractured wooden framework finally gave way with a deafening structural CRUNCH.

The entire fifteen-meter timber wall collapsed inward, leaving a gaping, exposed breach that stood roughly ten meters high and four meters wide. Their objective achieved, the human mages scrambled out of the muddy tunnels, retreating to the safety of the main arcane pavilion where they stripped off their mud-caked, smoke-ruined protective gear with a chorus of exhausted groans.

They immediately commanded their personal valets to prepare boiling water for baths, utilizing expensive scented soaps and imported perfumes to systematically purge the foul stench of raw mud and black smoke from their pores. Once cleansed, they selected the most luxurious, gold-trimmed robes from their traveling chests, only then recovering a modicum of their aristocratic dignity. In their estimation, they had been subjected to a profound, unforgivable injustice.

For highborn sorcerers to be reduced to burrowing through dirt like common rodents and enduring such horrific physical risks was an absolute insult to the academic purity of magic! A deep, bitter resentment toward old Archmage Fortier began to fester within their hearts; that ancient fossil had dared to issue such a vulgar operational order! Yet, regardless of their aristocratic complaints, their efforts had yielded an absolute strategic breakthrough. The main curtain wall of Poloia had been compromised.

Standing before his massed legions, Count Fischer hoisted his broadsword, his voice echoing across the entire valley in a singular, bloodthirsty decree:"FORWARD ASSAULT!!! THE FIRST WARRIOR TO BREACH THE RAMPARTS SHALL BE ELEVATED TO THE PEERAGE!!!" The mass of human infantry erupted into an instant, frenzied delirium. Knighthood! A noble title!

If they could simply be the first to anchor their boots atop that stone wall, they would permanently shatter their peasant lineage and force the world to address them as "My Lord"! In a single heartbeat, every single conscript and man-at-arms transformed into a ravenous, bloodthirsty beast, determined to storm the masonry and rewrite their destiny through absolute violence! The blare of war horns shattered the morning sky.

Driving over forty Cloud Ladders across the open dirt, the massive human host surged toward the masonry like an unstoppable tide of iron. The grand, bloody Battle of Poloia had officially begun!