"There are actually... so many people?"
Looking at a pair of eyes with different colors, shining with a light called "expectation", as if they were turning into thousands of pairs of blazing hands, trying to lift him up to the altar, Gus had mixed emotions, as if he was in another world.
Just three months ago, he was just an unknown person in a northern town who suffered bullying and ridicule.
He was a piece of dust dancing wildly in the wind, a chess piece who was born and fought for unknown reasons.
But now, there are so many people who believe from the bottom of their hearts that he is the "Holy Son" who can save the world and the savior who can lead them to find the meaning of survival and fighting.
And he is as clear as they expected, what kind of mission does he shoulder and where is he going?
Gus bit his lip hard, swallowing the wry smile full of confusion and helplessness.
With a wave of his arm, the young man looked determined, deceiving himself and leading the many desperate steam cultists to continue moving forward.
Close, close, they were getting closer to the main battlefield.
This can be proven by the increasingly violent roar of the earth and the increasingly intense smell of blood in the air.
The main battlefield was only one step away from them.
At this distance, the sounds of fighting between the enemy and ourselves were like demonic sounds filling the brain, making people unable to help but breathe quickly, their scalps were numb, and their fists were clenched tightly.
And the layer upon layer of bloody smell is so strong that it condenses into a red gauze-like haze, making one feel as if he has fallen into a devil's cave, making it difficult to move even an inch.
More and more fragmented corpses appeared in front of them.
There are also distorted, flaming war machines.
The majestic or exquisite robes of the priests of the Temple of Fist were trampled into the mud by pairs of iron feet, and the flesh and blood of the priests were trampled into balls of colorful meat.
The broken bones of human beings pricked the steam boiler into a honeycomb riddled with holes.
The originally high-pitched and sharp whistle could only emit a howling whimper due to air leakage.
The Iron Fist Army and the Steam Army were sworn enemies in life.
They used all means to kill each other - chopping with knives and axes, roaring steam, even picking at each other's throats with their fingers, biting with their teeth, and tearing each other's throats apart.
Drinking each other's blood, until they are entangled in each other's throats, and they fall into a hell that does not exist.
After death, their intertwined corpses looked like lovers who remained in love until death, and were even burned by the flames into a strange and indivisible statue.
The closer you get, the denser and denser the weird and twisted statues are, and the ground under everyone's feet is getting softer and softer - this is a literal "mountain of corpses and sea of blood".
If you step on it, you will be crushed.
The wet mud soaked in blood reached up to his ankles, and he could even feel the sharp and fine broken bones beneath the mud.
Gus stared into the distance.
Ahead is a valley.
Yesterday morning, when an Iron Fist Army unit was crossing this valley, it was ambushed by the Steam Army and suffered heavy losses.
In order to save the besieged remnant soldiers, the Iron Fist troops from all walks of life moved closer to the valley like enraged wasps, trying to devour the ambushers.
Not to be outdone, the ambushers summoned reinforcements, finally triggering a chain reaction and drawing out the main forces of both sides.
Naturally, the small valley cannot accommodate the decisive battle between the main forces of both sides.
After a day and night of fierce fighting, the main battlefield has moved to the plains north of the valley.
This valley, which was almost flooded with blood and corpses, was ignored by both sides.
Andre on Gus' side has quite a lot of combat experience.
They did not rush through the valley.
Instead, Gus, Gray and several brave veterans under Andre climbed the peaks on both sides to check the battle situation on the main battlefield north of the valley.
Although Gus was mentally prepared.
But when he really stood on the top of the mountain, looking far into the distance and overlooking the battlefield, he was still deeply shocked and couldn't recover for a long time.
What appeared in front of him was a bloody battlefield that stretched for dozens of miles.
After a day and night of fierce fighting, constant testing, interspersing, advancing and crushing, the battle formations of both sides lost their clear boundaries and smooth command, and took on the form of an intertwined and entangled formation.
It was like a wild beast that had been seriously injured at both ends, but became even more ferocious, stimulating all its hunting instincts, biting and tearing out each other's internal organs in the most primitive and violent way.
Such a war has no structure or beauty at all.
No one can think of anything related to words like "glory", "brilliance", "true God's will"... and the like.
Instead it was disgustingly ugly.
On the fragmented battlefield, Gus saw hundreds of steam troops carrying serial crossbows and carrying kerosene pumps on their shoulders, screaming strangely and rushing toward several Fist Temple priests.
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Although these priests of the Fist Temple were divided and surrounded, they seemed to be at ease and unfazed, like rocks surrounded by the tide.
Their whole bodies shone with an inviolable golden light, as if they had really been blessed by the boxing god.
Every punch and every kick produced a momentum that swept across thousands of armies, blasting the madly charging steam army into blood and water. meat pie.
Just like no matter how many times the tide hits, it is impossible to break the reef.
But the priests of the Fist Temple are not the real reef after all.
What's more, the crazy will of the Steam Cultists is like a blazing flame that can melt even steel.
It's not a metaphor, but a literal meaning - dozens of fanatical believers ignite the fire oil in the pump, turning themselves into blazing torches, using this method to approach the priest of the Temple of Fist, and more believers focus on the chain Crossbows, steam guns, and fire-breathing pumps swept across them.
Finally, the defense and will of the priests of the Temple of Fist were broken, and both themselves and their opponents were turned into a shining spark in a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood. .
On the other front, Gus saw ugly war machines that looked like black iron castles.
They are like upgraded versions of the steam cannons Gus saw in Qianyuan City.
The rusty iron plates are simply and roughly connected together by countless rivets, and each one leaks air everywhere, making a "squeaking" sound. powered by a steam furnace.
Due to insufficient combustion, the war machinery was surrounded by thick black smoke, like a black fire-breathing dragon.
Such a crude design and assembly process does not detract from its power.
Every roar of the steam cannon will open a path of blood and flesh in front.
The ordinary Iron Fist Army with low strength cannot withstand the power of a single shot.
Before falling apart, the internal organs Turned into a bubble of pus and blood, even the powerful priests of the Fist Temple were often hit with broken muscles and fractures by heavy artillery, and collapsed on the ground.
They could only watch the tracks of the war machinery, overwhelming them, crushing them and them.
All the beliefs were crushed into mud.