Dual-wielding! 100x proficiency, I'll grind my way to godhood!

With all preparations complete, the mountaintop fell silent, the entire hilltop quietly awaiting the moment of the final assault.

The third day, at noon.

The sun hung directly overhead, its rays blinding.

The fields below the mountain were densely packed with people.

The entire fertile field outside Stone Village was completely trampled and sank into the mud in less than half an hour.

Only Stone Village remained quiet and unharmed.

The heroes of the martial arts world are only interested in the sacred scriptures and have no interest in ordinary villagers.

Under the old locust tree at the village entrance, several old men were still playing chess, continuing their game without even lifting their eyelids.

Shennong's 100,000 disciples all retreated to the mountains.

The stalls and gambling stands at the foot of the mountain were all emptied last night.

The dealer who opened the market was the fastest to run away, taking all the money and disappearing without a trace.

When there wasn't enough room in the fields, the crowd squeezed onto the ridges, roads, and hillsides, with countless swords drawn, gleaming coldly in the midday sun.

The lowest-ranking casual fighters charged forward at the forefront, followed closely by disciples from various sects, while the rear guard, with their swords drawn, kept a close watch on the front.

The leader of the group shouted at the top of his lungs, "Whoever climbs the mountain first will receive a thousand taels of gold, and whoever kills a Shennong Sect disciple will receive a copy of the secret manual."

The casual thugs listened with shining eyes, their throats rumbling with heavy breaths.

Behind the supervisory team were the banners of various sects, one after another, fluttering in the wind.

At noon, the command flag at the foot of the mountain was waved three times in quick succession, and shouts of battle suddenly erupted.

Three to four hundred thousand people charged towards the mountaintop from all directions simultaneously, the front ranks running wildly and the rear ranks surging forward, creating a thunderous roar that even made the ground tremble.

The sound could be heard clearly even from Stone Village, several miles away. The villagers all leaned over the walls to look out. They had never seen anything like it in their entire lives.

The sea of ​​people swept over the foot of the mountain and over the slopes, and the front-line attackers could already see the rolling logs and stones piled up on the stockade walls.

The entire mountaintop was eerily silent and still.

It was too quiet. The person at the front felt uneasy and slowed down.

Some people looked up at the mountain, but the stockade walls were empty; there wasn't even a person peeking out.

The less I see people, the more uneasy I feel.

At the main gun position at the cliff's edge, Chen Mo moved the scope away and reported the distance and bearing.

Qingzhu, standing guard over the 155mm heavy artillery, gripped the firing cord tightly and spoke into the walkie-talkie:

"My lord, the enemy has already charged up."

Chen Mo picked up the walkie-talkie.

"fire."

The order was given, and all thirteen heavy cannons roared to life.

Muzzle flashes erupted simultaneously from more than a dozen gun positions, causing the entire mountain to tremble, and the smell of gunpowder spread with the wind.

People down the mountain first heard a muffled thunderclap, followed by a sharp whistle. By the time they reacted, the shells had already landed.

The 155mm heavy shell slammed into the dense crowd, creating a huge crater upon impact. No one survived, either inside or outside the crater; they were all blown to pieces.

Those farther away from the pit were thrown a long way by the blast wave and fell silent upon landing.

Those further away were hit by rubble and broken iron, and rolled in the mud, clutching their wounds.

In the fields, pillars of earth shot into the sky one after another, and black and yellow dust rose dozens of feet into the air, lingering for a long time.

Broken swords, shattered flags, and scattered debris flew everywhere.

The screams of agony that had just begun were completely drowned out by a new round of cannon fire.

A sect's banner was pushing forward through the crowd when a 155mm bullet landed right under the flagpole, killing both the person and the banner.

Between the valleys, the sound of cannons echoed continuously, layer upon layer, each one deeper than the last.

The sound of cannon fire could be heard for miles around. The villagers of Shitou Village covered their ears and lay on the walls, watching in stunned silence as one earthen pillar after another rose up in the fields.

In a short while, Qingzhu fired seven or eight shots, and the spent cartridges scattered at his feet were hot and smoking.

The disciples who were loading the guns moved quickly, the smoke from the gun positions was choking, and their throats were full of bitterness, but no one cared.

On the high ground, Shangguan Hong and Xu Wanqing each commanded a 155mm heavy cannon, specifically targeting the enemy's rear positions.

Several newly erected sect banners for supervising the battle were blasted to pieces one after another by their cannon fire.

As soon as the flag fell, the supervisory team below lost their composure.

On the main front, shells rained down on the densest crowd at the foot of the mountain, the cannon barrels scorching hot.

Qingzhu's voice on the walkie-talkie was filled with laughter:

"Young master, that was so satisfying!"

After more than a dozen rounds of heavy artillery fire, the crowd at the front was blown to pieces, while the people behind continued to surge forward.

"Switch to a rapid-fire cannon."

Chen Mo spoke into the walkie-talkie.

Thirteen men put down their heavy artillery and stepped over to the side in front of 57.

The heavy cannon barrels were so hot that no one dared to touch them, and the breechblocks were wide open to dissipate heat.

Over the walkie-talkie, each gun position reported its number in turn.

The roar of the rapid-fire cannons followed immediately.

Heavy artillery is like thunderclaps, and rapid-fire cannons are like a series of whips.

A burst of four shots is fired at a time; each press of the trigger fires a volley of bullets.

A barrage of shells swept out, targeting the most densely populated areas, and waves of attackers fell to the ground.

The loader follows behind the gun position with the magazines in his arms. As soon as one magazine is emptied, the next one is handed to him.

The charging crowd was chipped away layer by layer; as soon as one group fell, another would step on them and fall as well.

The 57mm guns at several positions fired even more fiercely, continuously sweeping the guns with burst after burst. The spent shell casings in front of the gun positions quickly piled up into a small mountain, gleaming yellow and steaming in the sunlight.

Chen Mo also became a 57mm rapid-fire cannon, firing one burst after another, specifically targeting the thickest part of the crowd.

On the slope in front of him, a sea of ​​people stretched from the foot of the mountain all the way to the middle, sweeping one piece away, then closing another, then sweeping another away.

The charging crowd fell in droves, while the unsuspecting masses behind continued their frantic advance, trampling over the corpses.

But before long, everyone's legs went weak, and the fear in their hearts completely overwhelmed their greed.

It's unclear who was the first to turn and run, but the momentum of defeat instantly spread from the forefront to the entire crowd.

The vanguard retreated and crashed into the rearguard who were still charging forward. People were jostling and trampling each other, and chaos erupted. More people were trampled to death than were killed by artillery fire.

Someone fell into the mud, and just as they managed to prop themselves up, they were trampled down again by countless feet.

Those who were patting their chests at the dinner table yesterday, saying they would climb the mountain first, are now running faster than anyone else, and no one is mentioning the reward of a thousand taels of gold anymore.

In the chaos, countless people threw away their swords and flags. Thousands of taels of gold, peerless secret manuals, and positions as sect elders were all forgotten. Only the instinct to escape remained.

The crowd surged back down the mountain from the front, knocking over their own sect disciples who were bringing up the rear. Cries and curses mingled in the direction of the camp, and no one cared about anyone else.

On the high slope behind, the leaders of the various sects rode on horseback and watched the entire crushing defeat.

The entire room fell silent; no one spoke.

The hands of the people in charge trembled as they gripped the reins, and their faces drained of all color.

A horse was startled and reared up on its front hooves, but its owner reined it in tightly.

Before the war, they had considered countless possible scenarios, including poison formations, hidden weapons, ambushes, and predicaments, but they had never considered such a method.

Some people recalled the three large pits from that night, and their regret, which had just surfaced, was quickly suppressed.

There is no turning back now.

Moreover, most of those who died were insignificant low-level rogues, and the major sects didn't care at all.

Before the war, all forces had signed an oath, and whoever retreated would be the enemy of the world.

The sect's supervisory team drew their swords to block the retreat, cutting down dozens of fleeing men on the spot, but they still couldn't stop the massive rout.

How could dozens of long knives possibly stop the surging tide of people fleeing for their lives?

Later, the supervising team members themselves threw away their knives and ran back into the crowd.

The Iron Sword Sect Master gritted his teeth and gave the order:

"Order all disciples to advance! Anyone who retreats will be executed on the spot!"

The white-haired old man beside him shook his head, his tone heavy:

"It's too late to stop it."

"We must stop them even if we can't."

"The true scriptures are within reach, but once they are withdrawn, we will all return empty-handed."

The Iron Sword Sect Master's eyes were filled with resentment.

The old man stopped trying to dissuade him, looked up at the mountaintop, gazed at it for a long time, and then said:

"Destroy those iron contraptions on the mountain first. As long as they stop roaring, we still have a fighting chance."

The heads of each group exchanged glances and instantly reached a tacit understanding.

The sect elders and retainers, who were usually aloof and dignified, all lifted their long robes at this moment.

Dozens of grandmasters led the way, followed by eleven great grandmasters, and hundreds of figures took to the air, rushing towards the mountaintop from all directions.

Their robes fluttered in the wind, and the sound of their clothes being torn apart filled the air. The fleeing civilians on the ground forgot to run and stared blankly at the sky.

The remaining disciples at the foot of the mountain looked up, about to shout their approval, but the words caught in their throats.

On the main front line, Chen Mo also stopped fighting and looked up at the sky.

coming.

At the artillery position on the cliff, Qingzhu had just finished pushing a shell when he heard the sound and looked up.

High in the sky, countless figures soared through the air, a dark mass that obscured the mountaintop.

She remembered what the young master had said that day.

These Type 57 cannons can be raised to shoot into the sky.

Qingzhu loosened the firing cord, gripped the cannon barrel with both hands, and raised the muzzle of the 57mm cannon inch by inch, aiming it at the people in the air.

At the other gun positions, the muzzles of the 57mm guns were raised one by one.