Chương 108: Upheaval in the North

The enemy supreme commander was dead. With their leadership shattered, the minor regional lords turned tail and fled alongside their respective retinues, triggering a catastrophic, all-out rout. Meanwhile, the Punisher Army set about methodically neutralizing the 1, 000 heavy infantrymen who remained trapped in the melee. Surrounded by the newly formed 25 companies of the line, the trapped humans found themselves outnumbered nearly three to one.

They were pinned down and mercilessly battered; heavy axes and morningstars rained down with lethal intent, unleashing a relentless, metallic din. Whenever a human knight was violently brought to the earth, his fate was sealed—several towering Hobgoblins would instantly swarm over his frame, pinning his limbs to the soil before ripping off his visored helmet to drive a trench dagger straight into his throat.

The chaotic meat grinder churned continuously for roughly five minutes before the Punisher Army fully utilized their overwhelming numerical superiority to condense the perimeter, completely encircling the surviving human remnants. Recognizing their peril, the remaining human soldiers tightly packed themselves into a desperate defensive circle, standing back-to-back to repel the onslaught from every axis.

By this stage, both factions were pushed to the absolute brink of physical exhaustion, gasping heavily like dying hounds. Breathing through closed iron visors significantly restricted airflow, and the sheer psychological stress of close-quarters combat had driven their heart rates to dangerous extremes. After swinging a heavy iron weapon a dozen times, a soldier's lungs would burn as if filled with liquid fire.

Yet, despite the sheer brutality of the grinding melee, fewer than a hundred men had actually perished from cold steel up to this point. Because both sides boasted exceptionally high defense matched with low kinetic damage output, the efficiency of the slaughter was incredibly sluggish. Now that the Punisher Army had successfully boxed the enemy in, both sides simply stood staring at one another through their visors, panting heavily as the front lines locked into a temporary stalemate.

The standoff, however, did not last long. The Goblin musketeers aggressively shoved past their exhausted heavy infantry comrades, stepping to the absolute front of the line. They leveled their long barrels directly into the dense mass of the cornered human soldiers and pulled their triggers. BANG! BANG! BANG! A chorus of deafening reports echoed within the pocket as the trapped humans were systematically executed at point-blank range.

The heavy plate armor, meticulously engineered to deflect the swings of cold weaponry, offered no more resistance than soft curd before the kinetic velocity of high-caliber musket balls; the slugs punched clean through the steel plates with absolute ease. Human soldiers dropped face-first into the dirt in massive clusters. With every thunderous crack of a gun, another man collapsed, sending a wave of absolute, unmitigated terror through the survivors.

Desperate, they unleashed a frantic, screaming attempt to break through the encirclement. Yet, the pocket had already been completely sealed. Furthermore, with both sides utterly depleted of physical stamina, the chaotic pushing and shoving yielded no tactical momentum—the humans simply could not force a breach. The Goblin musketeers casually rested their long barrels over the iron-clad shoulders of their heavy infantry comrades, driving the muzzles straight into the faces of the enemy knights before firing.

The human heavy infantry began to dissolve like morning frost. Twenty minutes later, the trapped contingent of 1, 000 heavy soldiers was entirely wiped from existence. Li Qinwu removed the whistle from his lips and bellowed at the top of his lungs, "All units! Reform your phalanxes!" The sharp blare of military whistles echoed once more. Dragging their battered, heavy limbs through the mud, the soldiers systematically re-aligned themselves into pristine geometric blocks.

With a sweeping motion of his massive arm, Li Qinwu ordered his host forward, steadily advancing along the exact vector of the fleeing enemy's retreat. The engagement they had just concluded had merely severed a portion of the enemy's elite vanguard; the primary host was still at large, meaning their overarching strategic objective remained incomplete. Having reorganized his units, Li Qinwu initiated a relentless pursuit.

They pressed forward for over ten kilometers across the terrain, yet failed to close the distance with any significant columns. The primary cause was the head start; the fleeing human aristocracy had secured a thirty-minute lead, making a clean interception virtually impossible. However, this did not trouble Li Qinwu.

He maintained a steady advance directly along their line of flight; even if his host failed to physically catch the routing forces, the sheer pressure of a disciplined army pursuing them would inevitably cause the retreating units to fracture and scatter across the countryside. The more fragmented the enemy forces became, the more agonizingly difficult it would be for the regional lords to reintegrate them into a cohesive fighting force later. Even so, Li Qinwu did not dare execute a reckless, unformatted pursuit.

Fearing that a desperate enemy might attempt a sudden counter-ambush, his battalions maintained rigid line formations at all times, which naturally capped their forward marching velocity. After tracking the rout for over an hour, a massive transport caravan suddenly materialized on the horizon ahead. The convoy was moving at a remarkably sluggish pace, leaving exceptionally deep, gouged ruts in the dirt road—an unmistakable indicator that the heavy wagons were laden with an immense wealth of weight.

The peasant drivers embedded within the caravan caught sight of the armored Goblin vanguard closing in from the south; letting out a chorus of terrified shrieks, they instantly abandoned their posts and scattered into the brush, leaving behind a staggering assembly of 500 massive wagons drawn by Earth-Drakes. Li Qinwu guided his commanders forward to secure the abandoned logistics line.

Left to their own devices, the 500 massive Earth-Drakes remained stationary, lazily bending their heavy heads to graze on the wild grass along the path. Earth-Drakes were prime reptilian beasts of burden native to this foreign world. Morphologically, they bore a striking resemblance to small, extinct dinosaurs, their heavy frames blanketed in dense, overlapping scales. Supported by four immensely thick, muscled limbs, each drake matched the physical dimensions of a heavy transport tricycle.

They possessed near-limitless stamina, monstrous physical strength, and an incredibly diverse omnivorous diet, making them exceptionally easy to maintain. Within human society, these creatures served as the premier choice for hauling freight and tilling the earth, completely monopolizing the agricultural sector. Their sheer utility had pushed traditional oxen entirely out of the labor market, reducing common cattle to basic meat livestock akin to swine or sheep.

Naturally, within the specialized strategic framework of the Goblins, these massive reptilian beasts possessed an entirely different, invaluable utility: an Earth-Drake possessed the biological capacity to gestate and birth between 5 to 10 Goblin larvae in a single cycle. Furthermore, they could breed continuously without extended fallow periods, establishing themselves as a formidable upgrade over common wood-rats.

Li Qinwu leaped atop the nearest freight wagon, violently tearing away the heavy canvas tarp to reveal thousands of neatly stacked grain sacks filled to the brim. Before him sat 500 prime Earth-Drakes and 500 heavy logistics trailers—and every single one of them was overflowing with military rations! Gobu Spear ran to the side of Li Qinwu's wagon, excitedly rubbing his green hands together.

"This is magnificent, Boss! With a wealth of grain this massive, we can easily swell our tribal numbers by several thousand more brothers!" Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Having served under Li Qinwu since the very inception of the campaign, he understood the Chieftain's long-term macro strategy perfectly.

If they could successfully transport these thousands of rations back to their breeding centers and convert them directly into fresh Goblin biomass, the overall military might of the Union would leap to an entirely new tier. A larger population meant a larger pool of soldiers under their command, which directly translated to a massive expansion of their personal authority. To his surprise, Li Qinwu shook his head, a look of grim reluctance flashing across his features.

"Consolidate the wagons into a single mass and burn the grain to ashes. Slaughter every single Earth-Drake on the spot." Gobu Spear froze in absolute bewilderment.

"Boss?! This is an immense wealth of provisions! Are we truly going to reduce all of it to ash? Furthermore, if we drive these Earth-Drakes back to our territories, do you have any idea how many thousands of kin they can gestate for our tribes?!" Li Qinwu cast a cold, sharp glance down at him.

"Gobu Spear, have you completely lost sight of our core strategic objective in this sector? We marched north to violently decapitate a wing of the enemy's approaching coalition, not to engage in a petty bandit raid for plunder. Maintain absolute focus on the mission parameters!" Gobu Spear instinctively shrank his neck back, swallowing hard. He realized that a brief surge of primal greed had clouded his military judgment.

Currently, the primary host of the enemy nobility remained entirely active within the province; the Punisher Army needed to remain light, mobile, and unburdened by heavy logistics. It was tactically impossible to escort a lumbering supply train under the present circumstances.

Attempting to detach a portion of his forces to herd the 500 Earth-Drakes back to Poloia would require a minimum of 1, 000 guards—and if that slow-moving logistics detachment were intercepted by a fresh human vanguard along the road, the results would be catastrophic. Though his heart bled at the sheer economic waste, Gobu Spear did not hesitate to obey.

He immediately ordered his companies to herd the massive reptilian beasts into tight clusters, forcing the Goblins to press the muzzles of their muskets directly against the drakes' necks before pulling the triggers. The unfortunate Earth-Drakes, completely ignorant of the geopolitical machinations of the two-legged races, perished instantly on the dirt road, their souls departing for the grand drake heavens. The mountain of grain sacks was piled high over the carcasses.

Ten specialized Pyromancer Goblins stepped forward, channeling their mana to manifest blazing fireballs before hurling them into the heart of the mass. Within moments, a roaring, towering inferno enveloped the vast stores of grain and the reptilian remains, painting the sky with thick columns of black smoke.

"What a waste... what an absolute, heartbreaking waste!!" Gobu Spear lamented, slapping his armored thighs in sheer agony as he stared into the crackling flames. Standing directly behind him was Kanda, now fully outfitted in the clean, uniform attire of a line musketeer. The youth looked at his commander with a touch of confusion.

"Colonel, why does this fire cause your heart so much pain? Is the Boss's directive flawed?" Following his enlistment, Kanda had been granted the system's accelerated grace, successfully completing his physiological transition into a towering Hobgoblin. Li Qinwu had personally expedited his advancement, elevating him into a Tier 3 Goblin Marksman and assigning him to look after Gobu Spear's personal staff to learn the fundamentals of military leadership.

Yet, given his exceptionally brief tenure within the regular army, there were still many facets of high-level warfare he could not fully comprehend. Gobu Spear instantly spun around, his expression turning incredibly stern as he locked his gaze onto Kanda.

"Listen to me closely, boy, and imprint this into your mind: the Boss is the single most intelligent entity to ever walk this earth. No matter what manner of doubt or confusion stirs within your chest, the moment the Boss delivers a command, your sole duty is to execute it with one hundred percent absolute obedience. Why? Because the Boss is always right!"

"The Boss... is always right?" Kanda echoed, scratching the side of his visored helmet. SMACK! Gobu Spear delivered a sharp, echoing gauntleted slap directly against Kanda's helmet.

"Drop the question mark, boy! The Boss is right! Now, stand at absolute attention and repeat it back to me three times: The Boss is always right!" Kanda snapped his heels together, locking into a rigid military salute as he bellowed across the clearing: "The Boss is always right! The Boss is always right! The Boss is always right!" Gobu Spear nodded with immense satisfaction, clapping a heavy hand against Kanda's armored shoulder.

"Good boy. Though I do not fully grasp the details myself, I can clearly see that the Boss holds a high degree of personal interest in your trajectory. See to it that you perform flawlessly upon the field. Before long, you too shall earn the right to serve as an officer!"

"I... I can truly become an officer?" Kanda's voice wavered slightly, laced with an underlying sense of disbelief. Within his personal worldview, every officer within the Punisher Army was a terrifyingly powerful, elite entity—figures he had spent his entire life looking up to from the shadows, the absolute moonlight of his aspirations. Could a disfigured creature like himself truly stand among their ranks? SMACK! Gobu Spear delivered another firm slap to his crown.

"The Boss himself declared it! Any Goblin who possesses no desire to become an officer is a worthless, failed Goblin! Every soldier within our Union must fight with every fiber of their being to secure command! Now, stand straight and roar it three times: I want to be an officer!" Kanda locked his frame into position once more, throwing his chest out as he screamed the vow three times into the smoke-choked sky.

Extremely pleased with the youth's behavioral conditioning, Gobu Spear unsheathed the masterwork longsword gifted to him by Li Qinwu, allowing the polished steel to gleam brilliantly before Kanda's eyes.

"Do you see this blade? The Boss personally bestowed this upon my hands the exact hour I achieved the rank of Battalion Commander. Elegant, isn't it? Do you desire a steel like this?" Kanda's eyes locked onto the weapon, completely transfixed. It was, without a single doubt, the most magnificent and beautifully crafted object he had ever beheld in his life.

"I want it! I want it more than anything!"

"If you want it, then see to it that you work yourself to the bone! Obey every military command without a single shred of hesitation, throw yourself into the absolute vanguard whenever there is military merit to be won, and the moment you secure your own commission, the Boss will unquestionably reward you with a masterwork blade of your own!" Gobu Spear's satisfaction reached its peak. He knew intimately that the Chieftain favored proactive, fiercely ambitious individuals above all else.

He still remembered vividly how that fellow Gobu Run always spoke his desires aloud without shame, aggressively clawing his way to the front whenever a dangerous assignment materialized—and look where it had gotten him: the fellow was thriving. As Gobu Run's former superior officer, seeing his old subordinate rise through the ranks brought immense prestige to his own name, and he was determined to pass these exact principles down to Kanda. A burning fire ignited within Kanda's chest.

For the sake of securing a masterwork sword, and more importantly, to defend the civilization and order of the Union that guaranteed his mother's safety, he would claw his way to the front lines. He would become an officer.

"Colonel, I swear I shall perform with absolute devotion! I will become an officer, and I will earn a masterwork blade from the hands of the Boss!" The professional ambition of this highly unique Goblin had been successfully kindled. Over the course of the following week, Li Qinwu maintained a relentless campaign of terror across the northern sectors of Halyun Province.

Because his strike host was completely unburdened by lumbering physical supply trains—their rations safely secured within his infinite systemic inventory slots—the army marched across the terrain with terrifying velocity. Whenever they encountered a noble castle, the Goblins lost no time in blowing the gates to splinters with heavy explosives, surging through the breaches to execute a systematic purge of the aristocratic garrison.

The moment a stronghold was successfully cleared, Li Qinwu utilized the system's "Dismantle" interface, reducing the ancient stone keeps to absolute fields of barren earth. Furthermore, Li Qinwu systematically emptied the captured granaries and treasuries, distributing the accumulated grain, silver, and gold coins directly into the hands of the local human serfs.

Simultaneously, he deployed his detachment of regular militia to conduct sweeping propaganda campaigns across the villages, formally announcing the absolute abolition of slavery and the sweeping redistribution of agricultural lands. Through this seamless, ruthless combination of military devastation and social revolution, it took less than a fortnight for the entire northern reach of Halyun Province to be completely consumed by the smoke of open rebellion.

With the primary host of the northern lords scattered into the wind, any attempt at localized aristocratic reorganization became a statistical impossibility. The minor garrisons simply lacked the tactical weight to stand against the crushing firepower of the Punisher Army. The entire northern territory dissolved into a chaotic, unmanageable cauldron of internal strife.

The nobility completely lost the capacity to project military force outward; in truth, they were left so utterly broken that they could not even begin to estimate how many months it would take to restore basic societal order to their scorched domains. Sensing that his tactical objectives had been fully realized and recognizing that his soldiers had reached the absolute limits of their physical endurance, Li Qinwu finally issued the command to halt the campaign.

The victorious strike host turned south, embarking on the return march to their base of operations in Poloia. Yet, the dust had barely settled. His forces had returned to the barracks of Poloia for less than two days of rest when a frantic scout rode through the city gates, delivering an urgent battlefield report directly to Li Qinwu's command desk: Count Fischer's elite heavy cavalry vanguard had officially crossed the territorial borders, penetrating a full hundred miles into the kingdom's sovereign domain.