Chapter Twenty-Six: Harvesting the Wheat Fields

With the first rocket striking its target, the dozen helicopters seemed to receive a signal. The scouts above swiftly drew their portable rocket launchers, aimed at the flesh mound below, and pulled the trigger.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh! Rockets streaked through the air, crashing into the grotesque, maddening hill. A relentless barrage of explosions, accompanied by surging flames, tore the flesh mountain to shreds.

The air was thick with the nauseating stench of burning flesh.

The entire town fell silent. The green goblins, so brazen moments before, instinctively stepped back, contemplating whether to flee.

Members of the Hunter Guild were at a loss for words to describe their feelings—shock, astonishment, disbelief. All these emotions mingled with the terror they’d just endured, leaving their minds in turmoil.

That monstrous mound had been obliterated in an instant by these airborne steel beasts.

It was like a heroic dragon-slayer, who had failed to kill the dragon after arduous trials, only for another monster to suddenly appear and swallow the dragon whole.

Was this a dream?

Azure Eagle Fuxiu gazed at the steel monsters above, roaring strangely, and began to consider whether to turn and run.

Inside the helicopter, Qin Le looked down at the billowing smoke and shook his head in disappointment.

“Not powerful enough.”

Their scout unit’s equipment was already the most advanced in the entire Xuanlu—and perhaps the world—but these anti-tank rocket launchers still lacked punch. It had taken a dozen shots to match the power of a single air-to-ground missile.

Unfortunately, limited by the era’s technology, not only were air-to-ground missiles out of reach, even their helicopters were equipped with nothing more than a heavy machine gun.

Beside him, Hammer nodded in agreement. “I think grenades are better than rocket launchers. Grenades might not pack as much punch, but you can fire them continuously.”

“Rocket launchers are too loud. Easy to spot,” added Falcon.

The demolition specialist, Pyrotechnician, disagreed. “You all expect too much. To me, nothing’s more beautiful in infantry weapons than the anti-tank rocket launcher.”

Unable to understand their conversation, Olina gripped Qin Le’s shoulders, her eyes shining. “Qin Le, Qin Le, let me try!”

These days, Olina had been deeply influenced by Xuanlu’s artistic aesthetic: size is beauty, explosions are art.

“Kids shouldn’t play with dangerous weapons,” Qin Le lifted the rocket launcher out of Olina’s reach. “Besides, aren’t you a knight? You should wield a sword, not a cannon.”

“You’re the kid here! And who says knights can’t use big guns?” Olina stood on tiptoe, trying to grab the hefty iron tube, but was forced back by a firm hand.

“Enough, you two. That thing isn’t dead yet.” Aimeya crouched by the cabin door, peering at the thinning smoke below, her delicate features filled with gravity.

“If I’m not mistaken, that thing must be a corpse demon—a greedy spawn with an undying, immortal body.”

As soon as she finished speaking, the smoke cleared. The flesh mound was no longer a hill; atop the uneven heap of corpses, a figure stood up in a twisted manner.

A skeletal figure, hideous, its skin sickly pale, resembling a puppet corpse.

Boom!

No sooner had it risen than another rocket struck from above, the explosion hurling the corpse demon into the air.

Qin Le blew the smoke from the launcher’s barrel. “One shot’s not enough, then two.”

The pale body rose again.

“It’s useless. Your weapons are powerful, but corpse demons can regenerate indefinitely. To kill them, you need items or powers with sanctity.” Aimeya, as always, displayed remarkable insight.

“Sanctified items?” Qin Le frowned. They seemed to lack such things. Did this mean there was nothing they could do?

He quietly shifted his gaze to a certain sixteen-year-old elf maiden—more precisely, to the right pocket of her cloak.

Noticing his look, Aimeya flatly denied, “What are you staring at? How could an elf like me have that sort of thing?”

Qin Le’s face was full of disbelief. “Hand it over—ten red gold coins.”

“Twenty.”

“Deal.”

Aimeya reached into her small pocket and produced an exquisitely crafted silver dagger. “A holy dagger from the Church of Radiance, made for dealing with disgusting creatures like this.”

Qin Le took the dagger, examined it carefully, and infused it with his own energy. The dagger glowed faintly white. “Borrowed again?”

“Correct. Borrowed.” Aimeya nodded without hesitation, her upright features betraying no hint of a lie.

“You must have some connections.” Qin Le smirked, then turned his gaze downward.

Below, the corpse demon was battling the black-armored knight—more accurately, the knight was completely overwhelmed.

The demon’s twisted body moved with unimaginable speed, flitting like a ghost, its terrifying strength raining down upon the knight.

Every so often, the knight was kicked away like a ball, crashing through one house after another. Yet the demon seemed in no hurry to kill him, savoring the cruel pleasure, and with elven archers nearby providing cover, the knight’s demise wasn’t imminent.

Witnessing that terrifying power, Qin Le abandoned any notion of capturing the creature alive.

“Olina, can you jump down from here?” Qin Le asked.

Olina glanced below and nodded. “Should be fine.”

It was about as high as the palace walls.

Back when she was only Tier One, jumping off the palace walls merely broke her leg; now, at Tier Three, she should be unharmed.

“Good. After we blast that thing to the ground, you jump down and kill it with this dagger.” Qin Le handed her the dagger and picked up the radio.

“Eliminate all green goblins inside the town.”

The safest plan was to wait for the approaching armored units to blanket the area with firepower, but there was an iron mine nearby, which might be useful later.

Orders given, the makeshift armed helicopters began moving, spreading out and descending to sweep the town for green goblins.

The helicopters’ sole weapon, the benevolent vehicle-mounted heavy machine gun, unleashed its merciful flames. Thousands of bullets rained down, bestowing the glow of paternal love upon the troublesome green imps below.

Wherever paternal love passed, green imps wailed in repentance.

Other scouts fired rifles in bursts, or swept with sniper rifles for any stragglers. Some even wielded rocket launchers.

The once-fearless green goblins scattered in panic, colliding with others rushing in from outside—one group trying to enter, the other trying to escape.

Against enemies on the ground, no matter how strong, green goblins would charge without hesitation. But faced with these unknown, airborne attackers, their berserk courage vanished.

“Falcon, try to knock down the corpse demon. If not, the knight below will die a heroic death for the world,” Qin Le ordered.

“Yes!” Falcon crouched, hefting the weighty anti-armor sniper rifle.

The Anti-Armor Type 3 sniper, no different from the Barrett of Qin Le’s previous world—though lacking advanced optics and precision components.

Holding her breath, she tracked the demon’s rapid movements below.

Previously, she’d never have dared fire an anti-armor sniper like this—the recoil would have shattered her shoulder, and hitting a moving target at such speed would have been impossible.

But now, things had changed. Her body had recovered to peak condition—and even beyond.

A faint aura enveloped her, focusing on her shoulder and arms, while her eyes shone with a subtle light.

‘This shot…’

Hunter-class spell: Precision.

Aimeya stared in surprise at the silent woman, not expecting her to have entered the ranks of the extraordinary.

Below, the corpse demon once again kicked the black-armored knight like a ball, pausing midair with a twisted smile.

‘I’ll shatter your skull!’

Bang!

A thunderous gunshot echoed. Flame burst from the muzzle, the recoil kicking the barrel upward.

The passengers in the helicopter caught the pungent smell of gunpowder. Fortunately, Falcon hadn’t fitted a muzzle brake, or the side-blasted flames would have singed Aimeya’s hair.

The bullet flew, striking the corpse demon’s temple. Tungsten-cored armor-piercing round—its terrifying penetration instantly shattered the so-called immortal body.

Boom!

Its head exploded, splattering black, unidentified matter. Within the remaining half of the skull, black worms slowly wriggled.

“What?! The corpse demon’s head is shattered!” Aimeya stared in disbelief; the battered knight and elven archer below were equally stunned.

Then, the scattered fragments of the head transformed into black worms, swiftly crawling back toward the demon.

Its shattered skull was regrowing!

Suddenly, a figure descended from the sky, landing with a kick that drove the corpse demon into the earth.

Olina stomped on its back, cracking the ground and collapsing the demon’s spine.

“Die.”

The dagger, glowing white, plunged into its back.

Bright light burst forth, accompanied by the demon’s hideous, sickening screech. It melted into a puddle of black water.

On the clock tower, a thief murmured in disbelief, “Is it over?”

Just then, a thunderous roar echoed from the horizon, a blaze rising in the distant east.

Instinctively, they looked up—a black shape appeared at the edge of the horizon, and the earth trembled.

The three atop the clock tower were frozen, witnessing an unforgettable scene.

Steel giants thundered forward—a tide of black. The overwhelming wave of green goblins was crushed beneath these monsters, unable to stir even a ripple.

The black tide surged like waves upon a beach, overwhelming the green monsters like grains of sand.

The ten tanks at the front acted as bulldozers, their dozens of tons of cold steel treads grinding countless green goblins into paste.

Boom!

Shells fired, the sheer kinetic impact alone killing hundreds. Armored vehicles behind opened fire, clearing out the survivors missed by the tanks.

The green goblins, fearless, launched a desperate assault on the steel monsters—using scavenged weapons, sticks, teeth—yet all in vain. Their attacks, no matter how reckless, failed to inflict a scratch, not even a mark.

Eventually, the tanks stopped firing shells and simply rolled forward, deeming the goblins unworthy of ammunition.

It was as efficient, cold, and silent as harvesting a wheat field. No mutual slaughter, no battle cries for survival—only the wails of green goblins.

“Monsters…”