novelhk Chapter 47 As long as we win
Chapter 47 As long as we win
A loud crash.
The mercenary wasn't dead, but his infinite resurrection made him look worse than if he were.
The enormous reaction force was transmitted back along the steel pipe, causing his hands to go numb and bleed profusely. The steel pipe was thrown several meters away and bent into a () shape in mid-air.
"Holy crap..." Infinite Resurrection shook his convulsing hands, staring at the fact that there wasn't even a dent left on the opponent's chest armor, and gasped, "These NPCs have such high physical defense? They're practically invincible with built-in damage reduction!"
Even if these regular soldiers, now at level two, were to fall to the ground and become targets, they would still be beyond the reach of these newbies wielding scrap metal.
Just as he was endlessly resurrecting and questioning his existence, he caught a glimpse of several large black iron barrels that had originally been used to set up roadblocks.
Those were several large barrels of waste gasoline that he had brought back from the black market while fleeing, originally intended to be poured on the road and set on fire.
Watching the mercenaries thrashing about on the ice like live fish on a chopping board, ready to rise again at any moment, Infinite Resurrection had a flash of inspiration, and a treacherous tactic took shape in his mind.
"Can't break through the defense, huh?" Infinite Resurrection suddenly grinned maliciously.
He turned and yelled at the still-stunned new players in the distance, "Stop fucking looking! Hurry up! Move those gas cans over here! Use them as bowling balls and roll them on the ice!"
The players snapped out of their daze and immediately rushed over, working together to push the heavy iron barrels filled with gasoline to the ground. They then kicked the barrels hard at the spot on the ice where the mercenaries were most concentrated.
The heavy iron barrel rolled faster and faster on the smooth ice, plunging headlong into the mercenary group with unstoppable momentum.
The fragile sheet metal shattered upon impact with the mercenary's sturdy armor, and urine-colored gasoline spread across the ice surface like spilled ink.
If the previous pure ice surface only had a low coefficient of friction, then the ice surface now mixed with gasoline has become an absolute hell in terms of physics.
A mercenary adjutant, who had finally managed to kneel down and was about to stand up, suddenly felt his knee slip.
This time, he didn't even have a chance to struggle; he was sent flying sideways.
The armor, covered in gasoline, slid across the gasoline-covered ice at almost twice the speed it had before. Like a black cannonball, it knocked over four or five teammates along the way before finally lying flat on its back amidst a pile of metal lumps.
Ice surface + gasoline + heavy armor.
This combination of attacks, devoid of any martial ethics, completely stripped this regular army of its last shred of mobility.
All the mercenaries, whether second-tier, first-tier, or ordinary soldiers, were now nothing but scrap metal. They couldn't even manage the most basic act of turning over; they could only stand there futilely waving their arms and letting out desperate and furious roars.
"You despicable rats! If you've got the guts, fight me fair and square!"
The Blood Axe commander, covered in gasoline, slid across the ice like a stranded catfish, emitting humiliating roars from inside his helmet.
His proud tactics and his invincible heavy armor formation were completely destroyed by a frozen mud pit and a few broken barrels of gasoline!
He tried to use the axe in his hand to chisel at the ice, using the axe blade to get stuck in the ice as a fulcrum to force himself to stand up.
"Click! Click!"
With a sharp axe, after several strikes, a deep crack was finally carved into the ice.
Blood Axe Captain was overjoyed and gripped the axe handle tightly with both hands, ready to exert force.
But he forgot one fatal thing.
Although the liquid nitrogen from the geese froze the surface of the swamp, the thickness of this ice shell was limited.
It was already bearing the immense weight of seventy or eighty heavily armored infantrymen, totaling tens of thousands of kilograms, and was nearing its limit. The Blood Axe Commander's powerful blows were the final straw that broke the camel's back.
The sound of ice shattering began at the tip of the Blood Axe leader's axe blade and spread wildly in all directions like a spider web.
Blood Axe Captain's movements froze.
He raised his head and looked around through the gap in his mask.
The entire gasoline ice rink, covering several hundred square meters, groaned in despair under the strain.
"broken!"
The next second, the massive ice surface completely collapsed!
Deprived of support, the Blood Axe mercenary group, along with the gasoline and ice shards scattered on the ground, let out a collective, piercing scream as they crashed heavily into the muddy swamp below.
And this is the real killer move that the players set up overnight: quicklime swamp.
At that moment, the mixture of ice and water, and the groundwater, came into direct and intimate contact with the tons of quicklime deep in the mud pit.
The most basic exothermic reaction equations in chemistry textbooks were magnified countless times on the battlefield, revealing their cruel destructive power.
Bubbles began to rise from the surface of the mud pit. Then came a piercing hissing sound.
The temperature skyrocketed in just a few seconds! Fifty degrees! Eighty degrees! One hundred degrees!
The mud at the bottom began to boil violently, billowing out white, hot steam. The waste gasoline floating on the surface, under the intense heat, began to emit pungent black smoke, and even showed a faint tendency to ignite.
Ice and Fire.
The mercenaries, who were complaining about how slippery it was just a moment ago, now finally understood what true despair meant.
Their heavy, full-body plate armor, once their proud and absolute defense, has now become the perfect cage.
The surrounding area was filled with boiling lime slurry, and the terrifyingly high temperature was rapidly conducted into the interior through the metal armor.
"Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!"
"It's so hot! Help! I can't get it off! The buckle is stuck!"
"It's almost cooked! Help me!"
Heart-wrenching screams echoed from the mud.
These ruthless mercenaries were now like lobsters thrown into boiling water, frantically rolling and struggling in the scalding mud.
They desperately tried to pull off their armor, but the impact on the ice, combined with the extreme cold of liquid nitrogen and the rapid expansion and contraction caused by the current high temperature, completely jammed the hinges and buckles of the armor.
The Blood Axe commander was half-submerged in the boiling mud, the black smoke making it impossible for him to open his eyes.
He raised his head in despair, his gaze piercing through the rising white mist and black smoke.
On the paved road above the mud pit, the refugees he regarded as trash, wearing only their underwear, were squatting outside the safety line, each holding a rusty screwdriver or a crowbar, pointing and gesturing at them as they struggled to their death in the mud pit.
He even overheard one of the swearing lunatics laughing and joking with the person next to him.
"I bet five cents that the battalion commander with the axe will be seven-tenths cooked first."
"Nonsense, he's a high-level character with a lot of health; he needs to simmer for at least five more minutes to absorb the flavor. Hurry up and get the armor and musket up here, don't let them disintegrate in the heat—those cost a fortune!"
Seeing this group of mentally ill people who completely ignored the cruelty of war and only cared about the quality of the spoils, Blood Axe's mental world completely collapsed.