Starting from 1618 of the Ming Dynasty

Chapter 63 City on the Front Lines

The southern city wall of Jinan is currently on the verge of failure in an extremely dangerous situation.

The so-called "defense line" has now turned into a huge vortex of chaos. Thousands of garrison soldiers are running around the city walls like headless flies. The centurions can't find the captains, and the captains can't find their soldiers. Some are aimlessly firing arrows into the air, some are huddled under the crenellations, trembling with fear, and some are even drawing their swords against each other in a fight over a relatively safe hiding place.

The air was thick with the stench of excrement and urine, and the desperate cries of despair.

"Get out of my way, all of you!"

A loud shout, like a thunderclap from a clear sky, instantly drowned out the commotion on the city wall.

On the horse path leading to the city wall, a black torrent surged against the tide of fleeing soldiers.

There were 150 men dressed in dark blue cotton armor and wearing dark brown Fanyang hats. Unlike the chaotic soldiers who shouted and yelled, they stood in tight double columns, carrying long broadswords and hardwood shields as tall as a person. Like a sharp chisel, they carved a path through the crowded people.

The leader was Zhao Changying. Today he was wearing a set of fine iron mountain armor that he had bought from the black market, and his face was covered with a ferocious iron mask, revealing only a pair of eyes full of murderous intent.

"By order of the General Office of the Central Military Commission! The defense of the South Gate shall be immediately taken over by 'Lu Ji Security'!"

Zhao Changying kicked a garrison soldier who was trying to escape over the parapet, and the scimitar in her hand whistled down, the back of the blade slamming heavily onto the man's spine with a teeth-grinding crack.

"Ah—!" The deserter screamed and collapsed to the ground.

"Everyone, squat down where you are! Anyone who moves will face consequences!"

Behind him, 150 Lu Ji guards quickly dispersed, their movements perfectly synchronized, possessing a breathtaking mechanical beauty.

When Lu Yan stepped onto the city wall, this was the scene he saw: outside the city, the vanguard of the White Lotus Sect—tens of thousands of refugees wrapped in red headscarves and as fanatical as zombies—was carrying makeshift ladders, crossing the moat filled with corpses like ants.

Meanwhile, on the city wall, his "construction team" was making final "construction preparations".

"Plan A, begin mixed-engineering."

Standing at the highest point of the enemy tower, Lu Yan held the hardcover notebook containing the data and gave instructions to the messenger beside him.

The so-called "Plan A" was a tactic he devised based on his military experience from his previous life.

Although the soldiers of Jinan Garrison were incompetent, they were numerous. If they were the bricks and stones, then Lu Ji's elite guards, who had undergone rigorous training, were the mortar that held them together. Only by mixing the two in a specific ratio could a sturdy city wall be built.

Although the soldiers of Jinan Garrison were incompetent, they were numerous. If they were considered "sand" and "pebbles," then Lu Ji's elite guards, who had undergone rigorous discipline training, were "high-grade cement" and "steel bars."

Only by mixing these two ingredients in a specific ratio can a solid concrete defense line be poured.

"First squad, take control of the winch area! That centurion, take your men over there and follow my orders!"

"Second squad, take over the left flank at 100 paces! You archers over there, come over here! Stand behind our shields and fire!"

"Third squad, clear the enemy tower of debris and establish a temporary medical station and ammunition depot!"

Lu Ji's guards demonstrated remarkable efficiency. Instead of sticking together, they formed groups of three—one swordsman and shieldman, one crossbowman, and one spearman—each acting as a core unit to control and lead the dozen or so guards around them.

"I don't understand military law. I only know that whoever disobeys will be cut down with my sword!"

A squad leader from the Lu family slammed his knife into a crack in the brickwork and roared at the group of trembling garrison soldiers around him, "Now, you ten men are under my command. See that ladder? If anyone peeks out, grab your spears and stab them! Anyone who dares to back down, I'll stab them first!"

Under this simple, brutal, yet extremely effective management, the defense line, which was on the verge of collapse, miraculously stabilized. The garrison soldiers found their leader—although this leader was fierce and intimidating, at least he knew what to do, instead of wandering around aimlessly like headless flies.

At this moment, the White Lotus sect members below the city had already begun their first probing attack.

"The Eternal Mother! The Vacuum Homeland!"

"Invulnerable to swords and spears! Impervious to all magic!"

The fanatical slogans coalesced into a massive wave of sound, causing dust to flutter down from the city walls. The refugees, having drunk the talismanic water, had inhuman red eyes that shone brightly. They completely ignored the sparse arrows raining down from the city walls, and even as those around them fell, those behind would step over the corpses and continue charging forward.

"My lord! They're coming up! Let's shoot!"

"A newly incorporated garrison commander cried out in terror. According to past tactics, a volley of arrows should have been fired by now, even if they missed, the sound would have been enough to bolster morale."

"Shut up."

Standing atop the watchtower, Lu Yan calmly calculated the distance and density through the observation hole.

He is waiting for a "threshold".

A siege is like a pressure test in fluid dynamics. The effectiveness of the attack is only maximized when the enemy density reaches its peak, that is, when people are packed together at the foot of the city walls and there is no way to hide.

One hundred steps. Eighty steps. Fifty steps.

The refugees below the city walls didn't even have proper shields; they charged upwards solely on the sheer power of the drug. Ladders were erected one after another to the top of the walls, the densely packed heads resembling maggots clinging to rotting flesh.

"Uncle Zhao, cool them down." Lu Yan waved his hand indifferently, his tone as flat as if he were ordering coal to be added to the boiler.

Zhao Tie grinned maliciously and led a group of laborers to push the dozens of large pots that had been prepared to the edge of the battlements.

What's cooking in the pot isn't rice, but boiling "golden broth".

This was something Lu Yan had Zhao Tie collect outside the city half a month ago—several thousand kilograms of aged excrement, mixed with arsenic and wolfsbane, boiled over a fire for three hours. This stuff had an elegant name, "Golden Juice," but in Lu Yan's eyes, it was a low-cost, high-lethal biological weapon combined with the double blow of burns.

"fall!"

"Splash—!"

The scalding hot molten gold poured down like a yellowish-brown waterfall along the pre-designed guide channel.

For a moment, an eerie pause occurred on the battlefield.

Immediately following was a heart-wrenching, inhuman scream.

"Aaaaaahh ...

At this moment, the laws of physics revealed their relentless impartiality. No matter what god you believe in or what incantation you chant, the fluid at several hundred degrees Celsius, under the influence of gravity, penetrates everywhere. It seeps into collars, scalds scalps, and even pours directly into the throats of those who are shouting with their mouths wide open.

The so-called "divine protection" is a joke in the face of the high temperature of protein denaturation.

The believers on the ladder fell like dumplings being dropped into a pot, and the dense crowd below suffered even more, rolling on the ground from the scalding heat. The originally tight siege formation instantly developed a huge, festering gap.

"It's not over yet."

Lu Yan looked at the horrific scene without even frowning. "Sprinkle in 'Ingredient Number Two'."

Those were bags of quicklime.

In this moist environment where the liquid gold has just been poured, quicklime powder will immediately undergo a violent exothermic reaction upon contact with water, releasing a large amount of heat and corrosive fumes.

White dust exploded below the city, forming a fog.

"My eyes! My eyes are blind!"

"Sorcery! The soldiers know sorcery!"

The White Lotus sect members, who had been fearless just moments before, completely collapsed. They were not afraid of being hacked or chopped, because their leader said it was a test; but this kind of unseen and intangible pain, which could burn a person alive and blind them, was beyond their comprehension.

"shoot."

Lu Yan issued the third order.

This isn't a shootout; this is a harvest.

Zhao Changying led forty crossbowmen who stood on high ground. They didn't need to aim; they only needed to pull the trigger on the chaotic, crowded, and screaming crowd.

"Bengbengbengbeng——"

At this distance, the penetrating power of a crossbow bolt is terrifying. A single bolt can often pierce the bodies of two or three people. The area beneath the city walls instantly became a giant slaughterhouse.

In just a quarter of an hour.

The first wave of seemingly unstoppable attacks was cleaned up by Lu Yan using a combination of chemical and physical methods, like washing away dirt.

On the city wall, the garrison soldiers who had been terrified were now staring blankly at the scene. They hadn't expected that killing could be so...simple?

No need to struggle, no need to shout, just listen to the young adult: stand in the designated spot, at the designated time, and pour out what you're holding.

This doesn't look like a war; it looks more like an assembly line operation.

"Clean up the scene."

Lu Yan glanced at the time on his notebook, closed it, and turned to walk towards the enemy tower. "Pull the logs up. This is just an appetizer; Xu Hongru's main force hasn't even moved yet."

The setting sun, like blood, cast an elongated shadow of the young commander. On this crumbling, isolated city, he was like a cold, hard nail, firmly embedded in the crumbling map of the Ming Dynasty; no one could ignore his presence any longer.