This heretic cannot be burned, he must be hung up and whipped!

Half of the concrete roof collapsed, and more than 20 bodies were lying in the posture of scratching their throats.

"The canister can only last 30 minutes, Saint, remember, 30 minutes!"

The military doctor's pocket watch ticked in the broken glass. Neos checked the time and saw there were still fifteen minutes left.

PS: Brothers, I have something to do today. I just reported to school and have a lot of things to pack up. I will update more for you tomorrow!

PS2: Current Act: Preliminary Mobilization - 220 recommendation votes, next update 4.5k!

PS3: Warhammer 40k, but Ming Dynasty

"For the Emperor! For His Majesty!"

The sharp warriors in steel armor held tiger squat cannons, their golden full body armor was covered with blood, and the brutal meat-mincing war had begun.

On the distant American continent, Andong Gandusi, who was personally appointed by the Ming Emperor Zhu Yijun, is launching an attack on the entire Western world.

In an era when firearms were still in their infancy and cold weapons had not yet left the stage, the Great Expedition had begun. The Ming Empire was marching westward according to Zhu Yijun's will! Westward! Expand! Even if it meant constant sacrifice, they would never stop, for the sake of the Emperor!

From Annan to Malacca, from Liaodong to Moscow, the world is ablaze under the Emperor's gaze.

When Zhu Yijun withdrew his gaze and looked down at the two capitals and thirteen provinces of the Ming Dynasty within the capital area, he knew that the power of life and death and the authority over the country were in his hands.

Emperor Regent of the Ming Dynasty, wearing a feather crown and sitting in the Ming Hall.

Qi Jiguang was nearly three meters tall, with golden light flashing in his eyes. He was wrapped in golden armor and knelt on one knee.

"The Emperor, by the Mandate of Heaven. This decree reads: I, having received the favor of Heaven, and with your reputation established in the Northeast, and your might and might, have entrusted you with the heavy responsibility of resisting the Western invaders across thousands of miles... Therefore, I hereby appoint Qi Jiguang, the Governor of Andonggan, Ming Dynasty, as Duke of Mei, and grant Kunyu Shenji Pao the title of General Dingguo!"

Kudos to this!"

Rising Flames: 1914: Chapter 21: The Desperate Battle (6k)

"...war of the Damned."

Neos muttered, "We have to climb out. Be careful and get to the church to find support as soon as possible. Understand?"

He crawled to the side of the two pilgrims. He couldn't see their expressions through the thick gas masks and the poor quality lenses. The two pilgrims nodded and took the lead, climbing out of the trench first.

"Hu-hu-"

The breathing sound under the gas mask seemed particularly heavy in the silence.

Neos took a deep breath and tried to hold it as much as possible. With his heart beating violently, he slowly climbed out of the trench with the help of the soldiers.

They moved very cautiously, fearing that any noise would attract the enemy's attention. The heretics did not seem to be equipped with a large amount of anti-toxic equipment. They only sent a small number of soldiers into the fog that symbolized death.

“Ka La!” “I want to get up and kill myself and filch the land—Yi Ka La!”

The crisp crack of rifles reloading echoed through the gassy wasteland, startling no living creature. On a street corner, a rat lay stiffly on the ground, its body curled up, clearly poisoned. Nearby, a crow struggled on the ground, its wings flapping feebly and emitting a faint whine.

"I have never hated war more than I do now."

Neos muttered, holding his gun. The other two pilgrims held trench clubs. The heretics had released at least a hundred tons of liquid chlorine into this damn place! Chlorine's heavier-than-air properties allowed it to remain on the ground for a considerable period of time.

"Cough-cough!"

The pungent smell of rubber and chlorine in the gas mask made Neos cough from time to time. The thick yellow-green fog obscured their vision, and the visibility was less than a few meters. The three of them had to get very close to barely see each other's outlines.

The small town outside the trench had long been reduced to ruins by the hellish artillery fire. The streets were filled with twisted barbed wire, gravel and broken building debris. Everywhere you looked were traces of the cruelty of war.

"Crack!" "Crack!"

They advanced slowly, their footsteps heavy in the dead silence, the air thickening into a deadly mist that burned their skin and lungs (chlorine dissolved in water forms hydrochloric acid).

The streets were littered with the bodies of civilians - the elderly, women, and even children, their faces distorted by the poison gas, their eyes wide open, frozen in the last moment with expressions of fear and pain.

"Oh my God... They escaped the first wave of slaughter by the heretic army and were finally taken in by us, only to encounter this kind of awful thing again."

Neos couldn't bear to look at the hideous faces of these civilians who died with their eyes open. He raised his head and tried hard not to look directly at the remains of these innocent lives, but from time to time he stepped on something soft. When he looked down, he saw another corpse.

His heart was beating heavily, his hands tightly gripping the rifle, hatred, pain, sadness, anger...emotions surged violently in his heart.

"The merciful Lord will take in these innocent souls." A pilgrim held the cross and gently closed the eyes of the corpses.

As he approached the church, Neos suddenly heard a slight sound of footsteps.

"stop!"

He clenched his fist and raised it upwards. The two pilgrims understood and slowly hid in the ruins.

The three held their breath, pressed against the broken wall, and listened carefully. The figures of several enemy soldiers loomed in the poisonous gas, armed with weapons, patrolling slowly, but unfortunately, they seemed to be searching the ruins where Neos was hiding.

"Damn it, get ready!"

Neos' heartbeat quickened as he gestured to the two pilgrims, slitting their throats. They nodded in agreement. He then flipped the safety on his gun to avoid attracting the attention of the heretics.

"Three...two...one..." "Bang!" "Ugh! -Gu!"

Just as the heretic soldier turned around, a black shadow suddenly attacked and hit him hard on the back of the head. Two pilgrims pounced on him and knocked the other heretic to the ground. One of them cut off the tube of his respirator, and the other stabbed the heretic soldier's throat back and forth with a bayonet.

The sound of bayonets going in and out of flesh and blood, the terrified and muffled breathing of the heretic soldiers, and the sounds of fighting as they struggled in the poisonous gas, all echoed in this ruin without a trace of life.

"Saint, what should we do with the remaining one?" The pilgrim came over and asked, holding the bayonet that was still dripping with blood and wiping the lens stained with the obscure substance.

Neos looked at the heretic lying on the ground with disgust, and then thought of the horrific experiences the common people had told him, and a nameless anger surged in his heart:

"Cut off his gas cylinder, take off his gas mask, and then tie him there—" Neos pointed to a telephone pole on the side of the road.

"Go to hell and repent if you want to repent, you heretic! I just don't want to abide by the Geneva Convention. You deserve to die, you beast! Bah!"

Neos held his breath, lifted his mask, spat at the heretic, and walked away without looking back.

"Let's go," Neos whispered, and continued forward with his teammates. Finally, they arrived at the church.

The door was closed, covered in bullet holes and cracks. Neos pushed hard, and it opened slowly with a dull thud.

The interior of the church was dark and eerie, with broken icons and candles scattered on the altar, and the smell of death still lingered in the air.

"Where have all the people gone?!" "Amos!" "Valentine!!" "Is anyone alive? Are they here?!"

Neos shouted a few times but no one answered him, so he quickly looked around - there were no corpses, no weapons or ammunition, and the messy debris indicated that the pilgrims stationed in the church had already evacuated.

"Saint! The sodium carbonate... that the doctor wants? Here it is!" "It's sodium bicarbonate. Be careful not to open the bottle. I want to see if they have left any message for me-"

In a wooden box in the basement, a pilgrim found several left-behind gas masks and medicines. The three of them held their breath, closed their eyes, quickly put on new masks, took a deep breath, and felt the long-lost "fresh" air.

"Mr. Neos! Look! A telegram!"

A pilgrim held up a telegram. His movements were not similar to Chamberlain's, but they were exactly the same. Neos took it, looked at the handwriting on it, and slowly read:

"Shortly after you left, the radio received a call from nearby friendly forces. They were reconnaissance aircraft from the 'Pilgrims of Suffering' and 'Procession of the Tenth Plague' regiments. They claimed to be coming to rescue the Dominican Swordmaster and a Manifestation of Saints with special abilities—presumably our Saint.

At this time, the heretic army began to release poison gas. We followed the direction of the radio station indicated by the friendly forces to the area where the poison gas had not yet reached. We went to inform those who were evacuating that they were on the way. If those who returned saw this letter, please retreat to the southwest immediately! - Priest Amos

The three of them showed expressions of relief on their faces, but they all knew in their hearts that this was only temporary safety.

--------------

"Buzz——e溜伊气易W爸爸丝夢——"

The radial engine of the BE-2 reconnaissance plane roared in Alfred's ears.

He clutched the edge of the open cockpit, the sight beneath his wing drenching him in a cold sweat. The once gray-brown battlefield was being engulfed by a yellow-green gas cloud. The swirling poisonous mist crawled along the bomb craters like a living thing, transforming the town's remaining church spire into a mast floating in a "sea of ​​pus."

"Last month Yi O is chess (eight) Emperor..."

Thomson, the telegraph operator in the back seat, suddenly grabbed the back of his leather jacket. Two newly launched poison gas bombs were rising from the distant Heretic Legion's position. The steel shells emitted a poisonous cloud and flashed white in the sunlight as they passed by.

The unique pungent smell of chlorine even reached the reconnaissance plane at an altitude of 300 meters, and Alfred felt a bloody taste in his throat.

“Da da da——” “Da da da——” “Kill the heretics!” “For God!”

The poison gas curtain was suddenly torn open by the machine gun fire, and Alfred saw a few soldiers wearing coarse cloth masks staggering out of the trench in the fog.

Their figures were twisted and deformed in the yellow-green turbid current. One soldier suddenly knelt on the ground, tearing his uniform soaked in poison gas with his hands, and writhing in the mud like a gutted fish.

"How dare they rush out without protective equipment?!" "What else? Are they going to wait to die in the trenches?" Thomson, the telegraph operator in the back seat, asked back.

"Don't forget our primary goal! Find and bring back Dominica at all costs, as well as the 'saint' who, according to the Oracle and the Strategic Prophecy Committee, is accompanying the Dominican Sword Master."

"Put on your mask! I'm lowering my altitude now!"

Alfred pushed the joystick hard and dived. The reconnaissance plane descended to a height of several dozen meters above the ground. He caught a glimpse of dozens of corpses bent like shrimps piled up in the gaps of the poisonous fog. The faces under the helmets were frozen with purple-black pain.

"What if the Sword Saint unfortunately dies in battle?" "Sword Saint? She can't die. All Paladins are protected by God. This level of poison gas can't have any effect on her! Look carefully, report the battlefield situation first--"

The tapping of Thomson's keys became chaotic, and the transmitter casing kept hitting his knees.

"Class C poison gas... no, correction, it's chlorine..." His hoarse voice was mixed with the chattering sound of his teeth. "They lack protective equipment, and the defense line might... Oh my God, they're crawling out of the west trench...! I saw the Dominican Sword Master— Ugh!"

"Why aren't you wearing protection?" "Shouldn't you see more clearly?!"

The operator suddenly pulled off his goggles and vomited, the sour substance dripping down his scarf onto the hot radio knob. He continued to send messages with tears on his eyes.

"Send a message to the regiment! We've found the target!!"

Alfred banked the plane toward the southwest. The last visible fragment of the battlefield beneath the wing was a group of soldiers shooting at them, and the heretics who were also reporting the battle situation to the rear.

----------------

“Me——” “Puff——”

Luce looked at his comrades around him who suddenly started to touch the sheep without saying a word, looking confused.

Although she had joined the regiment called the "Tenth Disaster Parade", she had not seen any veterans of the regiment except the commander since joining.

She had always been curious about why the warband she had joined had so many sheep, all lambs. The larger sheep would be used to buff the shrine hermit, while the older ones would be eaten as food. To ensure the warband had as many lambs as possible, the ewes seemed to be fed potions to keep them constantly pregnant.

She had always thought that this regiment was doing something strange by bringing so many ewes. The veterans she had met during her pilgrimage to Rome had secretly shared with her:

"During long battles, soldiers in the trenches on the front lines would become very depressed. Sometimes even alcohol, tobacco, and 'psychostimulants' (drugs) could not satisfy them, so they would invade anything that could make them breathe!

If those women who were scavenging on the battlefield were caught, they would probably be taken back to the trenches and raped until they died! This was still considered better. Those desperate men would even rape squirrels and dogs! Not to mention the occasional sheep that were transported.

Luce, you must be careful on the battlefield. You must build good relationships with your comrades. It is best to save more people to increase your prestige. When you sleep, you must carry a self-defense weapon. Don't eat food, cigarettes, or alcohol handed to you by strangers. Give them to your subordinates!"

But clearly, the fact that the "Tenth Plague Parade" has several times more sheep than people is definitely not normal. It's impossible that all these frustrated lunatics here enjoy group sex, right? So, is this also their mental state?

She observed the veterans of the regiment with curiosity. This was the first time she saw these battle-hardened soldiers. Even the God-chosen elites that existed in the priests' propaganda were on the field!

"The Holy Sacrifice..." (xiang, third tone)

The giant was covered in linen, with a huge cross on his face and nails driven deep into his eyeballs.

"How do they see?"

She walked over cautiously and looked at the giant carefully. Even when sitting on the ground, the giant was more than two meters tall. If he stood up, he would probably be comparable to the hermit in the shrine! In his hand, he held a huge iron rod, at the end of which was a chain tied to various weapons and his trophies.

Whether it is the elite warriors on the side of Hell or the elites on the side of the Church, they all like to hang their trophies on their bodies, but the ones on the side of Hell prefer to hang the enemy's weapons, while the ones on the side of the Church prefer to hang the enemy's heads.

Although the Holy Eucharist's eyes were blocked by the cross and his head was covered with a thick layer of linen, he seemed to be able to see. Luce was standing next to him, watching him play with the heretic helmet in his hand.

It looked like the big guy had "split" some unfortunate Plague Knight, even ripping off the pointy helmet on his head.

Luce was watching the big guy's movements carefully, not noticing that the Holy Sacrifice slowly turned his head to look at her.

“Wow!” “Ah!!”

The Holy Sacrifice suddenly yelled in her ear, frightening Luce so much that she stumbled and fell to the ground.

"Hahaha--"

The Holy Sacrifice laughed loudly, and the chains hanging all over his body swayed along with it, and he was obviously very happy.

Luce got up and quickly put it aside, but saw her comrades busy in a corner of the barracks, carefully placing several lambs on a simple wooden altar.

The lamb stared at Luce with its clear, innocent eyes.

“Mea~~~~”

"What a cute little lamb—"