26: Chapter 26 The Zerg's All-Out Offensive: The Chen Family Prepares for Battle

At the moment the alarm blared, Chen Xiaodao was injecting coolant into the shoulder joint of "po shan."

The mech's charred armor had not yet been replaced, and the interface of the mechanical prosthetic arm on the left side still had remnants of melted metal from the previous test fire.

He didn't look up, only hearing the console beep three times—the precursor to a full-area enemy lock.

Immediately after, the observation array transmitted a data stream: "Heat source signals confirmed on the northern horizon, unit count exceeds one hundred thousand, moving at a speed of three hundred zhang per breath, estimated arrival time at the main city defense line: twelve ke."

Training was over.

No, it had been cut short.

Chen Wuwang stood on the high platform, his right hand already resting on the command center panel at the edge of the city wall.

He did not turn back, his voice slamming directly into the wind: "Terminate all drill procedures, initiate Level 1 combat readiness protocol."

The moment his words fell, his right mechanical prosthetic eye automatically switched to full-area scan mode.

In his field of vision, the northern sky was being swallowed by a dense patch of red light points, surging over like burning red iron sand covering the sky and earth.

The Zerg swarm's flight path advanced in waves, their vanguard having already torn through the low-altitude clouds, the friction of their carapaces against the air emitting a teeth-grinding hiss.

Three years ago that night, it was the same sound.

Back then, he had just undergone Transmigration, and on the first night he took over as head of the Family, the Eastern Wasteland village had turned into ruins amidst this very sound.

The scene of firelight reflecting off Zerg sickle-legs crushing roof beams was still playing on a loop deep within his Sea of Consciousness.

But now, things were different.

He raised his hand and swiped, and a holographic tactical map unfolded in the air.

The energy nodes of the city-protecting spiritual array began to flicker with blue light, the arrow tower clusters slowly rotated their muzzles, and the ground infantry groups had already formed into three-row phalanxes in front of the array.

A dull roar came from the direction of the Artifact Refining Workshop—the sound of the furnaces restarting.

"Uncle Tiezhu." He pressed the communication button, his tone crisp and decisive, "Bring the Artifact Refining Workshop to support the front line!"

The moment the channel connected, the background noise was metal clashing and the roars of apprentices.

"Production Line 3 is running at full capacity!" Chen Tiezhu's voice was as coarse as sandpaper grinding iron, "Backup power units engaged! Load the 'Armor-Piercing Rune Rounds' into the transport planes! Hurry! Stop counting the damn crates, just push them!"

The footage cut to the core area of the Artifact Refining Workshop, where seven automated assembly lines were running simultaneously, the firelight illuminating the entire workshop.

Workers were carrying crates of shells and stacking them onto floating platforms, while Chen Tiezhu himself stood at the furnace exit, holding a detector in one hand and using iron tongs to clamp a newly forged warhead with the other.

"This batch of cores is mixed with Egg Core powder, doubling the penetration power, but the stability is off by three seconds." He roared into the communicator, "It won't hold for long, we'll need to switch lines after at most five volleys!"

"That's enough." Chen Wuwang interrupted, "As long as the firepower can hold for the first twenty minutes, that's all that matters."

He knew the Zerg's offensive rhythm—the first three quarters of an hour were a probing charge, relying on Worker Insects to deplete the defense line's energy; once a weakness was found, the Zerg Broodmother's consciousness would guide elite units to assault the core nodes.

What needed to be done now was to unleash the first wave of counter-fire before they could figure out the bottom line.

His fingers tapped the edge of the console, the rhythm steady—tap, and tap again.

This was his habitual action when thinking.

Back when he wrote code, he had smashed three keyboards; now, as head of the Family, the stone table had been carved with over a dozen deep grooves by him.

"Xiao Dao." He switched channels.

Inside the cockpit, Chen Xiaodao was closing the mech's cooling valve.

The bloody gash on his forehead, which had split open due to mental overload, was still oozing blood, but he didn't have time to wipe it.

Hearing the communication, he replied with only one word: "Present."

"Lead the mech team, assault the Zerg Broodmother."

"Understood." He reached out and pulled, forcing the propulsion System to wake up.

The engine's roar suddenly spiked, shaking the entire training ground's floor.

"Attention, everyone." He opened the public channel, his voice as cold as ice, "Assemble in the 'Star Stream Formation,' target—the high-energy signal source behind the Zerg swarm. Don't wait for orders; engage as soon as you take off."

Seven mid-tier mechs lifted off one after another, their feet crushing the ground as they soared into the air.

Each one bore unrepaired scars: some had collapsed shoulder armor, some had exposed energy conduction tubes on their legs emitting sparks, and one even had a noticeably crooked main cannon muzzle—the result of a barrel explosion during last night's test.

Yet, they all flew.

They were not perfect weapons, but blades forged from scraps.

Chen Wuwang watched those seven figures streak across the sky, his lips pressed tight.

He was not afraid they wouldn't fight well.

He was afraid they would fight too well, charge too far, and get themselves trapped.

But this step had to be taken.

The Zerg Broodmother would not charge personally; its main body was hidden ten miles behind the insect tide, commanding the overall situation through mental fluctuations.

As long as this nerve was severed, the entire Zerg army would fall into a brief chaos—which was the window for the Chen Family's counterattack.

He turned and walked to the very front of the city wall.

The stone slabs under his feet had been polished bright by countless footsteps, and water stains from last night's heavy rain still remained at the edges.

In the distance, the city-protecting spiritual array had been fully activated, a pale blue light membrane covering the entire city like a dome, and the rune gun barrels on the arrow towers began to preheat, glowing with a faint red light.

The city was very quiet.

No crying, no panic.

The clansmen silently took their posts, children were sent to the underground shelters, and the elderly stood at the entrance of the pharmacy, distributing Clear Pulse Powder.

This was not the first time they had fought a war, nor the first time they had faced a crisis of annihilation.

They had learned to keep their mouths shut, and they had learned to kill.

Chen Wuwang walked to the stone table, clenched his right hand into a fist, and slammed it down hard.

"Thud!"

With a muffled sound, the tabletop cracked with spiderweb-like fissures.

He drew the titanium alloy dagger from his waist, the blade slicing across the stone surface, carving a deep horizontal mark.

"Three years ago they slaughtered my village, today they dare to invade my city..." He said in a low voice, not loud, but piercing through the wind and transmitting into every monitored channel, "Then we shall use their corpses to pave the Northern Plains of the Eastern Wasteland."

No one responded.

But everyone heard it.

In the Artifact Refining Workshop, an apprentice accidentally dropped a crate of ammunition and was immediately kicked awake by Chen Tiezhu: "Pick it up! You lose one, and I'll chop off your hand!"

On the city wall, an archer inserted an arrow into the arrow notch beside his feet and whispered: "Waited three years, it's finally here."

In the sky, Chen Xiaodao, piloting "po shan," flew at the front of the formation, the nerve interface of his mechanical prosthetic arm heating up again, but he smiled: "This time, I won't rush the beat."

He pulled up the main cannon's charging curve and synchronized it with the Sword Intent resonance module.

This time, he would pin the rhythm down to the millisecond.

Below, Chen Wuwang stood still, his mechanical prosthetic eye continuously scanning the battlefield dynamics.

The red light points were getting closer and closer, having already broken through the twenty-mile range.

The Zerg swarm's vanguard began to dive, their carapaces opening to reveal the venomous stingers beneath their abdomens.

He still held the dagger in his left hand, his right fingertips tapping lightly on the table.

Tap, tap, tap.

Like a countdown.

Also like a heartbeat.

Suddenly, his pupils constricted.

A new notification popped up on the holographic interface—from the family rise system.

[Three ke later, blood mist will descend in the west, one Zerg Egg Core can be scavenged]

[Chen Xiaodao will have an Epiphany of Sword Intent at noon tomorrow]

[Within seven days, the Artifact Refining Workshop must upgrade the spiritual energy assembly line]

He stared at the first instruction, his eyes flickering slightly.

The west? Blood mist descending at a time like this?

Something was wrong.

The Zerg never moved toward the west; that was a dead volcanic zone with depleted Spiritual Qi, where even the lowest-level Gold-Eating Insect could not survive.

But the System would not be wrong; every instruction it provided was a strategic opportunity that precisely fit the current situation.

He remained calm, simply noting this information down silently.

Now was not the time to be distracted.

He raised his head and looked toward the sky filled with insect shadows.

The first wave of impact was imminent.

The arrow tower clusters had completed their lock, the spiritual array energy had reached its peak, and the mech formation was eight miles away from the target area.

The Artifact Refining Workshop's last transport plane took off, carrying the final batch of armor-piercing rounds to the front-line supply point.

Everything was in place.

He slowly raised his right hand, pointing toward the sky, his voice as cold as cold iron:

"Prepare for battle."