Chapter 108: Advance! Advance! Keep Advancing!

A scorching wave of heat and the acrid stench of gunpowder hit them full force, snapping the stunned crowd back to reality.
“Enemy attack!”
With a shout, those who had been frozen in place suddenly sprang into action.
The man with the ruddy nose grabbed Harvey’s shoulder, his eyes wide with panic, his pale face etched with tension. “Harvey, take little Cark and get out of here! Go to Lord Viscount Will and report the situation!”
He didn’t know exactly what kind of monster was charging toward them in the distance, but he knew this was no ordinary foe—one that could obliterate the city walls in an instant and cause massive casualties was far beyond their ability to handle. As a knight, he could not flee; he had to stay and defend, even if it meant certain death.
Better to send his child away—surely the lord would honor his sacrifice by nurturing the boy to be a model knight.
“This situation is beyond us. The only thing we can do is get the intel out to give the towns behind us time to prepare! Do you understand what I’m saying, Harvey?!”
“Uncle Cark, my father…” Harvey did not respond immediately. He pointed blankly at the severed head on the ground, dazed.
He still could not accept his father’s death—the strong, stern man simply couldn’t be gone.
“Old Harvey is dead! Take little Cark and run now!” the ruddy-nosed man shouted.
“Quick! Harvey, run right now!”
“No…” Harvey stepped back two paces, disbelief etched across his face.
After all, he was just a child, only sixteen years old—totally unprepared for the grim reality before him.
Slap!
A heavy palm struck Harvey’s cheek, turning it fiery red, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
“Run! Right now, run as far as you can!”
That slap shook Harvey awake. His gaze pierced past his uncle and landed on the grotesque, terrifying iron monsters bearing down on them, trailing billows of smoke.
“Ah!” Harvey grabbed the boy and turned to run, using his trainee knight’s physique to shove through the panicked throng.
“Father! Father! Father!”
The boy stretched out his small hands, calling desperately.
His father, smiling, clasped his hands together and shouted, “Son, live on and become a great knight. I believe in you!”
The world is not black and white but a delicate shade of gray. People have their darkness and their light; pure evil or pure goodness are rare and not tolerated by the world.
He loved his son deeply.
The iron monsters thundered closer, their tank turrets swiveling. The ominous black barrels aimed at the city and roared mightily.
Shells flew from their barrels, delivering the deadliest blows to the enemy.
Let this world witness the brilliance of technology—feel the immense power of ordinary humans observing and reshaping reality.
A grenade landed beside the ruddy-nosed man, flames erupting instantly and engulfing him. His body was torn apart, scattered into countless fragments.
He deserved death, as did all of them.
In the wide, round eyes of the little boy, his father had been slain by the monsters.

Boom!
A wave of heat surged forward. The boy’s innocent pupils flickered in shock.
Screams echoed around him, mingled with the knights’ fierce battle cries.
A well-equipped knight bellowed, “Draw your swords, form ranks! Everyone who wants to live, come to me!”
The surviving knights quickly assembled. After a brutal assault, fewer than fifty remained.
Gathering the militia was impossible now. The steel monsters’ assault had thrown the entire town into chaos. Everyone was panicked—if even the knights couldn’t remain calm, the common folk were utterly lost.
Given the monsters’ speed and attack range, no one present stood a chance.
If escape was impossible, why not fight to the death?
“To battle!” the knight raised his weapon with a thunderous roar, unleashing the signature legion skill—War Cry.
The spiritual link forged through their battle formation surged, bolstering everyone’s courage and banishing fear.
“To battle!”
The knights’ fear evaporated, replaced by bloodshot-eyed fanaticism.
All the horses were spooked and had fled, but the knights remained steadfast.
They formed a tight square and began advancing out of the town, step by step.
“For Count Lev! For the honor of the knights!”
They were the bravest warriors, the noblest knights—fearless.
The distant steel monsters’ turrets turned, aiming at the knights who resembled mere ants, then fired!
Boom!
A shell slammed into the formation, shattering it like paper.
Shells grazed overhead, spiritual shockwaves forcing everyone to cough up blood.
The lead knight swallowed the pain of spiritual shock and stepped forward, uttering guttural roars.
To die under such overwhelming enemies was no shame!
“Brothers, the battlefield is where knights belong. To battle!”
The leader drew on his last strength to rally the others. Their flagging morale surged back.
But as they tried to regroup, the massive, dark, fearsome iron monsters were already upon them!
Crash!
Tens of tons moving at speeds up to 65 kilometers per hour—these knights truly were as fragile as ants, tossed aside with a single blow.
The steel tide brushed over them mercilessly; their pride and nobility shattered instantly. Tanks crushed them without hesitation—almost all the remaining knights were wiped out in an instant.
The iron flood surged forward, yet the knight at the front miraculously survived.

He stood there, stunned, the fervor wrought by his extraordinary power fading completely. His knees buckled, and he collapsed heavily to the ground.
Monsters!
They didn’t even glance at him; he was like an ant to them. What was mere walking for them was a catastrophe for him.
Endless artillery rained down, the town exploding almost instantaneously. Military resistance crumbled in less than a minute.
Armored units with superior mobility and firepower gave the enemy no chance to counterattack—piercing straight to the core, killing with a single strike.
“Target neutralized, continue the advance.”
The armored troops did not linger, pressing forward in a wedge formation, charging at sixty kilometers per hour.
Advance! Advance! Relentless advance!
Attack! Attack! Fierce assault!
Unmatched speed and firepower—always offense, no defense, peerless in the world.
Before the enemy could even react, they were utterly shattered.
The view rose higher and higher—from the endless sky, a red arrow tore through flags, ripping a gap in the tangled web of defenses.
The steel flood was like a meat grinder, crushing everything in its path—leaving only death and flame behind.
…
Half an hour later, the flames died down. The earthen walls had completely collapsed, leaving only scorched earth and debris.
The surviving knight still knelt on the ground, figures appearing on the horizon.
Mechanized infantry—the cleanup crews after the steel flood.
Whizz!
A bullet struck the knight’s chest. His already shattered breastplate broke apart, pain stabbing deep in his chest.
“Ah!” The knight let out a piercing scream, writhing on the ground like a worm.
“No, no, don’t kill me!”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunfire erupted relentlessly, bullets tearing into him until he lay motionless.
A soldier approached the knight’s corpse, pressing a cold gun barrel to his head and pulling the trigger.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Several shots blew his head to pieces.
The new world’s combat protocol: after confirming the enemy shows no signs of life, deliver a secondary strike to the head to ensure no resurrection by any means.