Late Ming Dynasty: Summoning players from Liaodong to support the Ming Dynasty

dark.

A thick, pitch-black darkness.

The air was filled with a nauseating stench—the earthy smell, the musty odor of rotting grass roots, and the foul stench of rat droppings. All the smells swirled together, relentlessly penetrating the nasal cavity and clogging the throat, making each breath feel like swallowing a mouthful of cold, muddy slurry.

"Shh...shh..."

The sound of armor scraping against the narrow earthen walls was particularly jarring in the deathly silent passageway.

Turgh shifted his body irritably, trying to stop the rough stones from chafing his shoulders. He was Amin Beile's most valiant white-armored guard, his sword had been baptized in the blood of Fushun, and his warhorse had traversed the hills of Sarhu. He was accustomed to galloping across the vast grasslands, accustomed to seeing the terrified faces of his enemies under the sun.

He was never afraid of death, but he loathed the feeling.

The feeling of being buried alive.

He and his nearly one thousand most elite Bayara warriors were like a pack of wolves forced into an anthill, forming a long, writhing serpent, struggling to move forward in this underground tunnel whose destination was unknown.

The passageway was even narrower than described in the letter; the tall Jurchen warriors had to crouch and hunch their shoulders to barely pass through. Behind them were the heavy breathing of their brothers, and under their feet was a slippery, muddy ground where they would occasionally step on something sticky, whether dead rats or rotten mud, they couldn't tell.

Repressed.

Extreme repression.

The proud warriors of Bayara had never suffered such humiliation. Several young soldiers were already becoming increasingly agitated, and the clanging of armor grew more frequent.

"Quiet!" Turg growled through clenched teeth, his voice echoing muffledly in the cramped space. "Do you want the city's Han dogs to hear you?!"

The passageway instantly fell into a suffocating silence, with only heartbeats and breathing remaining.

Turgh licked his chapped lips, his unease growing stronger. But the thought of the Prince's face contorted with anger and humiliation, and of his soaring achievements and glory, forced him to suppress his unease.

This is an opportunity bestowed by the Eternal Heaven, the only path to wash away the shame.

He crawled for an unknown amount of time, and just as his patience was about to be completely worn down by the endless darkness, a suppressed commotion came from ahead.

A faint, grayish-white light shone from the depths of the passageway.

exit!

Everyone's spirits were lifted!

Turgh's heart pounded. He quickened his pace, almost crawling forward on his hands and feet. The light grew brighter and brighter, and finally, a trace of earthy freshness, belonging to the ground, appeared in the murky air.

He was the first to rush out of that narrow opening!

Suddenly, everything became clear!

He found himself in a narrow alleyway nestled between several enormous warehouses. The moonlight was obscured by clouds, and it was so quiet he could hear his own heartbeat. The air was thick with the smell of rotting hay and wood.

nobody.

There wasn't a single ghost in sight.

Turgh immediately crouched down, cautiously surveying his surroundings. The scene before him was identical to the simple map attached to the secret letter! This was the abandoned warehouse district in the west of the city!

He succeeded!

A surge of overwhelming joy instantly washed away all the previous repression and unease.

"Get out! Quickly!" he urged in a low voice towards the cave entrance behind him, his voice trembling slightly with excitement. "Spread out! Control all exits!"

One after another, white-armored soldiers, like demons crawling out of hell, emerged from the dark hole. They greedily inhaled the fresh air, stretched their stiff limbs, and their eyes, which had been trapped in darkness for too long, gleamed with a bloodthirsty light.

In less than fifteen minutes, nearly a thousand elite Bayara soldiers poured into this complex area of ​​warehouses and alleyways like mercury spilling onto the ground.

Everything went incredibly smoothly.

The scouts sent by Turgh quickly reported that the entire warehouse area was deserted, with only a few drowsy Han soldiers guarding a few exits, none of them even wearing proper armor.

"Useless!" Turg spat out disdainfully.

It seems that Chu Ze really did move all his troops to the North Gate! He never dreamed that his real killing move would come out from under his backside!

Turgh spread out the map that had been bought with blood, and pressed his finger heavily on a spot marked "Treasury".

"Groups one and two, take control of the perimeter and eliminate those watchdogs!"

"Groups three and four, follow me! Head straight for the treasury and armory!"

He could already imagine the chaos that would ensue when he and his warriors descended from the sky, burning the Han dogs' provisions to ashes and smashing their armory to pieces.

He even began to fantasize about how Amin Beile would reward him for this tremendous achievement! Cattle, sheep, slaves, and that golden armor that only the most elite Baturu of the Great Jin Dynasty were qualified to wear!

Thinking of this, his blood boiled.

"For the Great Kim!"

He drew his scimitar, its blade reflecting a chilling glint in the dim light.

"kill!"

……

Atop the clock tower, the wind howled.

Chu Ze put down the brass binoculars in his hand.

The clumsy battle at the North Gate continues. The firelight and clamor are merely a facade to mask the deadly tranquility of the western part of the city.

On his GM panel, the area designated as "Hell Pipeline" was completely filled with crimson dots. They were densely packed, like a swarm of ants rushing into a sugar jar.

Nearly a thousand points of light, representing elite enemy troops, all entered the pre-set kill zone without exception.

They are excitedly and unknowingly heading towards their death along the "maze" route designed by Zhou Keke.

Everything is in place.

Chu Ze slowly turned around and faced the messenger behind him who had been waiting for a long time and was so nervous that his whole body was stiff.

He didn't say another word, but calmly raised the small, yet incredibly conspicuous, piece of paper in his hand—

Red command flag.

……

"They're here!"

On the outskirts of the western warehouse district, atop the roof of the tallest warehouse, a player with the ID "Voldemort" peered through the gaps in the tiles and saw the red command flag flying atop the clock tower.

He let out a low growl in the guild channel, his voice barely suppressed and almost distorted.

"Attention everyone! Attention everyone! The signal has been given!"

"receive!"

"receive!"

The player squads, positioned on all the high points around the warehouse area, responded simultaneously in the chat channel.

Their voices contained no trace of nervousness, only a fervent excitement of about to participate in a grand celebration.

[Voldemort himself] is the commander-in-chief of this "ignition operation". In reality, he is a firefighter and never dreamed that one day he would be in charge of a spectacular arson.

He licked his dry lips and picked up a ceramic jar from beside him. Inside the jar was Cheng Huaxue's specially made "homemade solidified gasoline," which was as thick as asphalt.

The pungent smell of coal tar in the air now smelled surprisingly sweet.

"Listen up, everyone!" He gave the final instruction into the communicator, "What's our slogan again?"

A burst of laughter came from the channel.

A gruff voice answered first: "Let those bastards feel the warmth of the Industrial Revolution!"

"That's right!" Voldemort himself laughed, pulling out a torch he had prepared beforehand from his pocket, while in his other hand he lifted the heavy earthenware pot.

He stood up, and in the cold wind of the rooftop, looking down at the silent, dark labyrinth filled with ignorant prey, he let out a roar that echoed through the night:

"Guys! Let's set off fireworks!!!"

The moment he finished speaking, he threw the burning torch in his hand hard towards the mountain of grease-soaked hay at the exit of the alley below!

at the same time!

On dozens of rooftops in all directions of the warehouse district, figures suddenly stood up!

Dozens of burning torches!

Dozens of ceramic jars filled with a "special combustion accelerant"!

At the same moment, it pierced the night sky with a mocking yet cruel arc, falling from the heavens and precisely crashing into the warehouses that Zhou Keke had marked as "core ignition points"!

"boom!"

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The first things to be lit were the dry firewood and thatch.

The flames started as tiny specks, but the next second, when they came into contact with the spilled, viscous black liquid—

A catastrophe has occurred!

call--!!!

A muffled yet incredibly powerful explosion erupted simultaneously from inside every warehouse that had been "taken care of"!

That's not burning!

That was an explosion!

Cheng Huaxue's "homemade solidified gasoline" unleashed its terrifying power the moment it came into contact with an open flame!

Orange-red flames, mixed with nauseating billowing black smoke, instantly engulfed the entire warehouse! The wooden wall panels and beams, under this terrifying heat, didn't even have a chance to struggle before being carbonized and cracked!

"What is that?!"

Turgh, who was leading his team toward the treasury, was startled by the sudden, earth-shattering commotion and turned around abruptly.

He saw that the huge warehouses behind him and on both sides seemed to come alive!

The tightly closed wooden windows were forced open by an immense internal pressure! Thick tongues of fire, billowing with smoke, spewed wildly from the windows, licking the night sky!

A wave of scorching heat hit him, causing a sharp, needle-like pain to his face.

"Enemy attack! Ambush!"

Turgh's mind went blank, and he felt a chill run down his spine! He roared like a madman, his first instinct being to retreat back to the only safe entrance to the secret passage!

However, it was too late.

At this moment, Zhou Keke's "chimney effect" revealed its most ferocious fangs.

The deliberately left, oddly angled ventilation openings on the warehouse's exterior walls began to frantically pump air back from the outside the moment the internal flames burned out and negative pressure was created!

Woo-woo-woo

A fierce wind suddenly arose in the narrow alleyway!

That's not natural wind; it's the wind of death summoned by the fire demon!

The violent air currents, carrying sparks and deadly heat, poured into the warehouses and spewed out from the windows at the other end, forming visible trails of fire!

The fires, which were originally fighting their own battles, were instantly connected into one large fire by the wind!

In the span of a dozen breaths, the entire warehouse area was transformed into a colossal, raging inferno—

Purgatory!

"ah--!!!"

A piercing scream finally broke through the roar of the flames.

A slow-moving soldier in white armor was scorched by a jet of flame that spewed from the warehouse window, instantly turning his prized, high-quality armor red-hot. Even worse, the viscous black oil clung to his body, refusing to extinguish no matter how much he rolled on the ground!

He became a running, screaming torch, bringing the flames of death to his companions in despair.

Panic spread like a plague.

"Retreat! Retreat back to the tunnel!"

"Fire! It's demonic fire! Help!"

The proud Bayara warriors were utterly devastated. They threw away their scimitars and fled frantically in the direction they had come from, the only path to survival.

However, when they rushed to the entrance of the secret passage, they were met with even greater despair.

That area had long since turned into a sea of ​​fire.

The first fire dropped by Voldemort ignited the largest bundles of "ignition devices" hanging above the entrance.

At this moment, countless burning hay and wood blocks, mixed with molten asphalt, rained down from the sky like lava, turning the entire exit of the secret passage, along with the surrounding area of ​​several dozen feet, into a scorched wasteland.

Their escape route was completely blocked.

The scorching air, the acrid smoke, the ubiquitous flames, and the inhuman screams of my companions all around me...

Turgh stood there, stunned.

He wasn't unfamiliar with fire; he had seen wildfires on the grasslands and rockets used in sieges.

But the fire before us is different.

The fire is alive.

It had its own breathing, emitting a muffled groan, drawing air in from the holes in the walls, then suddenly spewing out even more ferocious tongues of fire from the other end. It had its own claws and teeth, those black, viscous liquids that couldn't be extinguished by water, igniting upon contact, like a bone-deep affliction, turning warriors into twisted, struggling charred remains.

He looked at his prized scimitar, its blade already turning a dark red under the high temperature, like a branding iron that had been heated through.

He wanted to swing his knife, but who was the enemy? Was it the all-pervasive heatwave? Was it the choking black smoke that made it impossible to open one's eyes?

He wanted to charge, but where could he go? Fire walls surrounded him from all sides.

A strand of his hair was singed by the hot wind, instantly curling and emitting a foul smell of burning protein.

He finally understood.

This is not a shortcut to glory.

This place was meticulously prepared by Chu Ze for them—a massive, one-way passage...

grave.

"Demon... demonic magic..." A young soldier in white armor completely broke down. He dropped his weapon, knelt on the ground, and kowtowed desperately to the leaping flames, incoherently praying for the protection of the Eternal Heaven.

The next second, a burning roof beam crashed down, burying him and his prayers.

In Turghna's wide, fear-filled pupils, a devastating orange-red hue was reflected.

He made no further attempts to escape, nor did he issue any more orders.

A thought, absurd yet clear, shattered all his pride as the Great Golden Baturu.

They didn't even get to see the enemy's face.

On the clock tower, Chu Ze stared expressionlessly at the towering flames rising into the sky in the west of the city.

The light illuminated half the night sky as bright as day.

The red command flag in his hand, illuminated by the firelight, was as red as blood.

Guangning is sleepless tonight.