The explosion had been set off to create that massive crater, the smoke and dust... to buy a brief pause counted in seconds... and, even more so, to send the swarm of Great Spikes airborne.
Everything had been prepared for the spear formation of the Xiongzhanli allied forces.
Five hundred colossal javelins, each over two hundred meters long and at least as thick as a tall man's clasped arms. At Winter Palace Square, a hundred soldiers had joined forces to thrust each javelin to slay a Red Shoulder, but here, there were forty per javelin.
In truth, had it been a direct frontal collision, fielding a spear formation would not have been very effective; whether in speed, impact, or mobility, the Great Spikes far outmatched human soldiers.
In simple terms, if a human battle formation charged straight in wielding giant javelins, they would struggle even to hit a Great Spike, even an ordinary one.
Thus, it held little significance on smaller battlefields.
Now was different. Every necessary condition had been created. Twenty thousand Xiongzhanli soldiers thrust forward with five hundred colossal javelins, advancing in successive waves.
The first wave of two hundred colossal javelins caught the enemy off guard, impaling and killing over six hundred airborne Great Spikes. The Xiongzhanli soldiers bearing the javelins surged forward, reaching the rim of the crater. *Whoosh!* With a sudden collective burst of force, they hurled the javelins forward.
*Whirrrr—* Two hundred vibrating giant javelins streaked like lightning across the air above the crater, smashing into the Great Spike swarm on the other side. In that single volley, at least another hundred Great Spikes were skewered and slain.
At the same time, the soldiers of the first echelon drew their blades and dropped prone in unison, regulating their source energy surges in preparation for the subsequent assault.
Behind them, comrades of the second echelon swept past them with leveled javelins, roaring like the wind...
Thus, another pack of utterly enraged Great Spikes that had just leaped from the dirt pit seeking vengeance was skewered midair, left dangling from the javelins.
Repeating the maneuver, the second echelon charged to the crater's edge, hurled their javelins, and dropped prone.
The third echelon...
The fourth echelon.
At the culmination of their charge, the fourth echelon abruptly altered their maneuver, slamming every single javelin down into the crater...
Beneath the forest of javelins were Great Spikes still dazed or leaping into the air.
More than a hundred Great Spikes were pinned to the earth.
The fifth echelon struck...
At the same time, the America Coalition soldiers launching their countercharge from both flanks finally converged in a flanking mass, slamming into the bewildered Great Spikes stranded outside the crater.
Paralyzed by fear of the crater and the unfamiliar, relentless threat of the javelins, this portion of Great Spikes had stalled, leaving their flanks completely exposed.
Meanwhile, the America Coalition forces sweeping in from the flanks were at their absolute peak in both morale and momentum.
*Boom!* A forest of long blades sheared through the air with explosive concussions, slashing into the enemy ranks.
A second later—"Ura!" On this side of the crater, all twenty thousand Xiongzhanli soldiers who had just finished their charges erupted with source energy, swinging their blades as they plunged into the pit.
Slaughter,
slaughter,
slaughter.
Across the vast battlefield, a bloody melee began.
Having inflicted heavy casualties, the Azure Coalition pressed their overwhelming numerical superiority, charging from dominant positions to divide and exterminate the enemy... They held a massive advantage.
Now, the only factor left that could potentially turn the tide was the Great Spike craft in the sky—and perhaps Red Shoulders or a Daie.
Dozens appeared above the battlefield,
as well as over the relatively empty rear.
*Boom!* A specialized craft slammed down, ejecting its occupant.
"Red Shoulder!" a fierce cry erupted across the battlefield.
*Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!* Three super combat powers of the America Coalition converged in a lethal encirclement.
*Boom!* Another landed. "Red Shoulder!"
Anton, Stepan, and Gennady—three Xiongzhanli super combat powers—surged forward to kill it.
No more Red Shoulders appeared for the moment.
Yet dozens of Great Spike shuttle craft still circled in the sky above. And as follow-up units arrived, that number continued to rise.
They seemed to be hesitating, waiting for orders.
This was far more dangerous than if they simply plunged straight down.
For instance, if they received an order right now to mass-land in a specific sector—such as inside the crater—they could regroup, seize local superiority, and either strike from the rear of the battlefield, retreat swiftly, or establish a defensive perimeter to await reinforcements.
On the battlefield, some soldiers instinctively looked up at the sky.
They were worried.
However, the orders they had just received were to completely disregard the Great Spike craft in the air.
"Do we have any reinforcements left?"
"None. The units that came from neighboring regions have already joined the fight, hunting down fleeing Great Spikes."
"And even if we did, there's nothing they could do against craft in the sky."
Indeed. Humanity had always been utterly helpless against airborne Great Spike craft.
Except for that Legate from Huaxia, who had once stood atop a skyscraper and cleaved an aerial train in two.
Beyond that, humanity's handful of source energy craft could neither outrun nor outram them...
*Clang-clatter, shrrk!* An abrupt, peculiar sound rang out.
It sounded like dead iron striking dead iron, followed by a heavy impact against the ground.
It sounded like a massive dead iron chain.
Someone was dragging it.
General Bochen emerged from the command tent he had entered earlier, walking toward the battlefield and appearing in the open rear...
Emerging alongside him was a colossal dead iron chain.
The chain links were as thick as a man's calf.
The Mitli general, whom Pegmont had once remarked was a pity he was so short, was indeed not the tall Caucasian man of common imagination. He stood barely under one meter seventy, short and stocky.
That colossal dead iron chain was wrapped coil upon coil around his broad, powerful chest and nearly equally solid waist.
After several wraps, the chain passed through General Bochen's palms and extended backward.
It was extraordinarily long—perhaps two or three hundred meters, or even longer—for its other end had not yet appeared.
As it was dragged along, the chain clattered and scraped noisily against the ground.
"Huuu..." Exhaling a long breath, General Bochen tilted his head up and looked once more at the craft in the sky.
He had already spent a long time staring up at them earlier.
No, he had been looking at them for decades.
His name was Bochen, with no surname or suffix.
He ranked third on the Dome Leaderboard.
He was currently the only peak human combat power who had stepped half a foot into the realm of NE and Chen Buer.
His trait was exceptionally simple: strength.
In terms of sheer strength alone, General Bochen was unmatched in the mortal world.
The soldiers of his personal guard did not draw near. After casting a single glance back, they quickly charged toward the distant battlefield, putting distance between themselves and this spot.
And then—*whoosh!*
Here it came: the ultimate surge of humanity's third-ranked warrior, the combustion of his trait.
The ground shook violently as a storm of dust billowed into the air.
"Get the hell down from above our heads," he said.
Then, *clang-hummm!*
Followed by a sharp *shhk*, the colossal chain forged of high-grade dead iron snapped taut in an instant.
*Fwhoosh!* Driven by unfathomable power, it whipped toward the sky.
Now his personal guard fully understood why they could not remain by General Bochen's side. To say nothing of being crushed by the falling chain, merely being grazed by its swing would kill most soldiers on the spot.
At this moment, the chain had not yet fully left the military tent.
Consequently, the entire tent was ripped from the earth.
At terrifying speed, it hurtled into the sky.
*Rrrrip!* The green canvas suddenly tore apart midair.
The other end of the dead iron chain was finally revealed.
It was a colossal block of dead iron, nearly cubic, weighing perhaps thousands of jin.
Mounted at the front of the square block was a heavy, pointed ramming horn.
*Whoosh!*
One end of the massive dead iron chain strained against General Bochen's body and gripped hands, while the other end surged into the sky.
*Rattle-shrrk... twang-hummm!*
The chain extended, snapping taut.
The colossal hammer at its tip swept outward...
*Boom!*
With a deafening crash, two Great Spike shuttle craft, seemingly before even realizing what had happened, were shattered in midair, their wreckage tumbling down in fragments.
Simultaneously, General Bochen moved swiftly across the ground.
As the giant hammer began to fall,
he rapidly reeled in the dead iron chain until it snapped taut, spun around, and swung both arms in unison.
*Hummm-fwhoosh!* Cleaving the wind, the airborne hammer swung upward once more, hurtling toward the sky behind him.
An entire cluster of shuttle craft was gathered there.
*Boom!* Another two shuttle craft detonated directly in the sky.
This time, without waiting for the hammer to show any sign of falling, General Bochen coughed blood from the corners of his mouth. Clenching his teeth with a grunt, he roared, "Ahhh!" Gripping the chain with iron resolve, he leaned back and violently spun his entire body.
*Fwhoosh!*
The colossal hammer swept through the air in a massive circle, and that circle shifted continuously across the sky.
This was something the Great Spikes had never encountered.
The shuttle craft scattered in blind panic.
*Bang, bang, bang, bang...*
Shuttle craft after shuttle craft was struck,
blasted apart,
shattered to pieces,
and sent crashing down.
...
From afar, the sound reached them first—a howling like a hurricane and a rippling tremor through the air.
Stream Vanguard's convoy came to a halt. Everyone, including Han Qingyu and his companions, stood up, staring dumbfoundedly at the scene unfolding far in the distance, at least two to three hundred meters up in the sky...
"What... what is that?!"
Chapter 675