"There are... so many people?"
Looking at a pair of eyes with different colors, shining with the light called "expectation", as if turning into thousands of fiery hands, trying to lift him up to the altar, Gus has mixed feelings, as if it has been a lifetime.
Just three months ago, he was just a bullied and ridiculed unknown person in a small town in the north, a light dust dancing wildly with the wind, a pawn born without knowing why, and fought for why.
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, the savior who can lead them to find the meaning of survival and fighting.
And he, as they expected so clearly, what kind of mission is he shouldering, and where is he going
Gus bit his lips hard, and swallowed a wry smile full of confusion and helplessness.
With a wave of his arm, the young man was determined, and he deceived himself and led many desperate Steam Cultists to move on.
It's getting closer, it's getting closer, they are getting closer and closer to the main battlefield.
This point can be proved from the increasingly violent roar of the earth and the increasingly intense smell of blood in the air.
The main battlefield is only one step away from them. At this distance, the sound of fighting between the enemy and us is like a magic sound filling the brain. It makes people feel short of breath, their scalp is numb, and their fists are tightly clenched.
And the layer upon layer of bloody smell was so strong that it condensed into a red veil-like mist, making one feel like a fallen devil's den, making it difficult to move an inch.
More and more fragmented corpses appeared in front of them one after another.
There are also twisted and deformed, blazing war machines.
The majestic or exquisite battle robes of the priests of the Fist Temple were trampled into balls of colorful meatloaf by pairs of iron feet in the mud, together with the flesh and blood of the priests.
Human bones punctured the steam boiler into a beehive riddled with holes, and the originally high-pitched and sharp whistle could only whimper like ghosts and wolves because of an air leak.
The Iron Fist Army and the Steam Army were sworn enemies before they were alive. They tried every means to put each other to death—chopping with knives and axes, roaring steam, even digging with their fingers, biting with their teeth, tearing each other's throats, causing pain. They drank each other's blood until they entangled each other's throats and fell into a hell that didn't exist together.
And after death, their entwined corpses looked like lovers who died in love until death, and were even burned by flames into groups of inseparable strange statues.
The closer you get, the more and more twisted and weird statues become denser, and the ground under everyone's feet becomes softer and softer—this is a literal "mountain of corpses and sea of blood". Soaking in the wet mud up to the ankle, you can even feel the sharp and finely broken bones under the mud.
Gus stared into the distance.
Ahead is a valley.
Early yesterday morning, when an Iron Fist army was crossing this valley, it was ambushed by the steam army and suffered heavy losses.
In order to save the besieged remnants, all iron fist armies approached the valley like irritated wasps, trying to swallow the ambushers in one gulp.
Not to be outdone, the ambushers summoned reinforcements, which finally triggered a chain reaction and drew out the main forces of both sides.
Naturally, the small valley cannot accommodate the decisive battle between the main forces of the two sides.
After a day and night of fierce fighting, the main battlefield has moved to the plain 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 didn't rush through the valley. Instead, Gus, Gray, and a few brave veterans under Andre climbed up the peaks on both sides to check the battle situation on the main battlefield north of the valley.
Although Gus has already made sufficient mental preparations.
But when he really stood on the top of the mountain, overlooking the battlefield, he was still deeply shocked, and couldn't recover for a long time.
What appeared in front of his eyes was a bloody battlefield stretching for tens of miles.
After a day and night of fierce fighting, with constant probing, interspersing, advancing, and crushing, the battle formations of both sides lost their clear boundaries and smooth command, presenting a criss-crossed, entangled form.
It was as if the two were seriously injured, but became more ferocious, stirring up all hunting instincts, biting and pulling out the other's internal organs in the most primitive and violent way.
There is no law or beauty in such a war.
It makes people think of nothing related to "glory", "brilliance", "true God's will"... such words.
Instead, it's disgustingly ugly.
On the fragmented battlefield, Gus saw hundreds of steam soldiers carrying serial crossbows and kerosene pumps on their shoulders, screaming and rushing towards several priests of the Fist Temple.
Although the priests of the Fist Temple were divided and surrounded, they seemed comfortable and fearless, like rocks surrounded by tides.
There was an inviolable golden light shining all over them, as if they were really blessed by the God of Fist. Every punch and every kick gave off the momentum to sweep away thousands of troops, and blasted the madly attacking steam army into blood and blood. meat pie.
Just like no matter how many times the tide hits, it is impossible to wash away the reef.
But the priest of Fist Temple is not a real reef after all.
What's more, the crazy will of the steam believers is like a blazing flame, which can melt even steel.
It's not a metaphor, but a literal meaning—dozens of fanatical believers ignited the kerosene in the pump, turning themselves into flaming torches, using this method to approach the priest of the Fist Temple, and more believers concentrated on the chain crossbow , steam guns, and fire-breathing pumps swept across their heads and brains, and finally defeated the defense line and will of the priests of the Fist Temple, turning both themselves and their opponents into a sparkling spark in a sea of corpses and blood.
On the other front, Gus saw war machines as ugly as black iron castles.
They are like an upgraded version of the steam cannon that Gus saw in Qianyuan City. The rusty iron plates are simply and roughly connected together by countless rivets, and the air leaks from one to the other, making a "squeak" sound powered by a steam oven.
Due to insufficient combustion, dense black smoke surrounded the war machines, like black fire-breathing dragons.
Such a crude design and assembly process does not detract from its power. Every roar of the steam cannon will open a road of blood and flesh in front of it. Before it was torn apart, the internal organs turned into bubbles of pus and blood. Even the powerful priests of the Fist Temple were often bombarded with broken bones and bones, and lay limp on the ground. They could only watch helplessly as the tracks of war machines were crushed Come here and grind them and their beliefs into mud.