Time: 3 Weeks Post-Occupation.
The Beiluo Steel Mill was starving.
The massive blast furnace, a towering structure of brick and pipe in the city square, was roaring, but its diet of scrap metal—rusty plows, broken gates, and melted debris—was running thin.
Jiang Chen stood in the control room of the mill, watching the gauge drop.
[Stockpile Warning: Ferrous Ore Critical.][Production Halted in: 48 Hours.]
"We have melted every spare nail in the city, Administrator," the Foreman reported, wiping soot from his face. "Unless we start melting the citizens' pots and pans again, the line stops."
"We aren't melting pots," Jiang Chen said, turning to the large map on the wall. He tapped a location twenty miles to the west. "We are going to take what is ours."
Black Iron Ridge.
It was a rich vein of iron ore, historically the source of Beiluo's wealth. But ten years ago, the Iron Fist Sect—a pugilist sect known for their body-hardening techniques—had seized it. They used the ore to train their bodies and sold the surplus to the Empire, leaving Beiluo to rot.
"They have fifty disciples," Chen Wei, the Spymaster, noted from the corner. "All Body Tempering Stage 5 or higher. Their leader, 'Iron Hand' Luo, is rumored to be Qi Condensation Stage 8. They say his skin can shatter steel swords."
Jiang Chen picked up a new shell casing from the table. It was heavy, brass, and filled with high-grade propellant.
"Shatter steel," Jiang Chen mused. "Let's see if he can shatter a high-explosive shockwave."
The next morning, the citizens of Beiluo witnessed a strange sight.
The city gates opened, and a column of vehicles rolled out. These weren't the crude sleds of the past. They were M35 "Deuce and a Half" Cargo Trucks, painted winter-camo white. Their engines growled with a low, diesel thrum (fueled by refined Bio-Oil from beast fat).
In the back of the trucks sat the 1st Battalion. 100 men, armed with bolt-action Mauser 98k rifles. They wore white coats over their black uniforms.
But the real monsters were towed behind the trucks.
Three M101 Howitzers. 105mm artillery cannons. Squat, ugly, and terrifying.
Jiang Chen rode in the lead jeep. He wasn't wearing robes; he wore a heavy officer's trench coat and a peaked cap.
"Radio check," he spoke into the handset.
"Unit Alpha, green," Han's voice crackled back. "Artillery Battery, green."
"Move out."
The Iron Fist Sect outpost was a fortress built into the cliffside. High stone walls blocked the only path up the mountain.
Two disciples stood guard at the gate. They were shirtless despite the freezing wind, their muscles bronze and glistening with oil. They were practicing hitting each other with iron rods to toughen their skin.
"Did you hear?" one disciple laughed, absorbing a blow to his abs. "The mortals in Beiluo killed their fat lord."
"Ants biting a pig," the other scoffed. "If they come here, I'll crush their skulls with my..."
He stopped.
A low rumble vibrated through his bare feet.
"Earthquake?"
They looked down the valley.
Three metal beasts were crawling up the snow-covered road. They stopped two kilometers away—far beyond the range of any arrow or spell the disciples knew.
"What are they doing?" the disciple squinted. "Are those... carriages?"
Two kilometers away, the artillery crew was working fast.
"Deploy spades!" the Battery Commander shouted.
The soldiers dug the heavy trails of the howitzers into the frozen earth.
Jiang Chen stood with a rangefinder binoculars.
[Target Distance: 2,150 meters.][Elevation Difference: +120 meters.][Wind: 5 m/s West.]
"Solution," Jiang Chen relayed the numbers. "Elevation 420. Deflection 15. HE Shells. Fuse: Impact."
The soldiers spun the hand cranks. The barrels of the cannons raised, pointing at the sky, seemingly aiming nowhere near the fortress.
"This is the difference between us and them," Jiang Chen told Han, who was watching nervously. "They fight with anger. We fight with math."
"Battery One, READY!"
Jiang Chen lowered the binoculars.
"Fire."
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
The ground jumped. Three tongues of flame spat from the muzzles. The cannons recoiled violently.
Three shells arced high into the grey sky, disappearing into the clouds.
The Impact
At the fortress gate, the disciples were still staring at the distant trucks.
"They stopped," one said. "Cowards. They saw our banner and—"
WHEEEEEEEEEEEEE...
A high-pitched whistling sound descended from the heavens. It grew louder, like a screaming banshee.
"What is—"
CRUMP. CRUMP. CRUMP.
The world turned into fire and dirt.
One shell landed directly on the gatehouse. The explosion vaporized the wooden structure and the two disciples standing there. Their "Iron Skin" didn't matter; the overpressure liquefied their internal organs before the shrapnel even hit them.
Another shell hit the courtyard, blowing a crater in the stone training ground.
The third hit the main hall, collapsing the roof.
Inside the fortress, chaos reigned. Disciples ran out, ears bleeding, covered in dust.
"Enemy attack!" "Where?! I don't see anyone!" "The sky! The sky is falling!"
Iron Hand Luo burst out of his meditation chamber. He was a giant of a man, his skin the color of dark iron.
"Silence!" he roared, his Qi amplifying his voice. "Form the Turtle Formation! Shields up!"
Fifty disciples gathered, channeling their Qi into a collective golden barrier. It was strong enough to stop a landslide.
"They are attacking from long range!" Luo shouted. "Hold the barrier! They will run out of Qi soon!"
Meanwhile,
"Target effect: Good," Jiang Chen noted, watching the smoke rise. "They have deployed a barrier. Cute."
"Sir, they are hunkering down," the Artillery Commander reported.
"Reload," Jiang Chen ordered. "Continuous fire. Three rounds per minute. Don't stop until I say so."
"But Sir, the barrels will overheat!"
"Then let them glow. Fire."
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
It wasn't a battle. It was an excavation.
For ten minutes, the howitzers pounded the ridge. Every twenty seconds, three shells slammed into the golden barrier.
The Breaking Point
Inside the barrier, the disciples were vomiting blood.
Every impact drained their Qi. They were used to fighting bursts of combat—ten minutes of sword fighting. They were not designed to sustain a defense against high-explosive bombardment.
"Master!" a disciple screamed, his nose bleeding. "I can't hold it!"
"Hold it or die!" Luo roared, sweat pouring down his iron face. "Their mana must be exhausted! No wizard has this much reserves!"
He didn't know it wasn't mana. It was chemistry. Gunpowder didn't get tired.
CRACK.
The barrier fractured.
"Incoming!"
BOOM.
A shell landed right in the center of the formation.
The barrier shattered. The explosion blossomed in the middle of the crowded disciples.
Bodies flew. Limbs were scattered. The "Iron Fist" Sect was reduced to meat.
Luo was thrown back, his iron skin cracked and bleeding. He looked up at the sky, his eyes wide with horror. "What... what kind of demon..."
The shelling stopped.
Silence returned to the mountain. Just the groans of the dying and the crackle of burning timber.
Then, the sound of engines.
The trucks were coming up the road.
Jiang Chen stepped out of the jeep at the ruined gates. He walked through the smoke, flanked by his riflemen.
He found Iron Hand Luo leaning against a shattered wall, missing a leg. The Sect Leader tried to stand, tried to summon his Qi, but he was empty.
Luo looked at the young man in the strange coat. He looked at the black metal tubes the soldiers held.
"You..." Luo wheezed. "You have no honor. You strike from miles away."
Jiang Chen looked down at him.
"Honor is a luxury for the dead," Jiang Chen said. "I have a city to feed."
He turned to Han.
"Secure the mine. Put the survivors in chains. They have strong backs; they will make excellent miners."
Han nodded, looking at the devastation. He had never seen a fortress taken so easily. No swords drawn. No charges. Just thunder from the sky.
"Administrator," Han asked quietly. "What do we do with the dead?"
Jiang Chen looked at the piles of "Iron Skin" disciples.
"Recycle them," Jiang Chen said, walking toward the mine entrance. "Iron is iron."