Chen Shouyi watched for a good while before returning to sit on the bed.

Listening to the dense cannon fire, he sat in a daze, somewhat entranced.

He hadn't received any notification of exercises, nor heard any rumors, besides, even if it were an exercise, it wouldn't take place at four or five in the morning.

Something definitely happened.

...

The cannon fire echoed for a full half-hour before gradually thinning out, and after another hour, it completely ceased, with only occasional sporadic shots.

For some reason, hearing the silence after the cannon fire, unease welled up in his heart.

The sky outside had begun to brighten.

A new day had already arrived.

Chen Shouyi stood in front of the window, watching the hurried footsteps and heavy faces of pedestrians in the villa area, as if a huge stone weighed on his heart.

This was a villa area within the Safe Zone, inhabited by none other than the military and political elite, and at the very least, martial artists.

One of whom Chen Shouyi knew, was the second-in-command of Hedong City, who had recently specially visited Chen Shouyi's home on behalf of the City Government for condolences and visits.

At that time, he wore a warm smile, full of friendliness, yet now his face was dark with clouds, looking grave, as he hurried away accompanied by two aides.

...

Yun Mountain is located within the Hedong Cheng'an District, with an elevation of over 220 meters and a vertical height of 183 meters, stretching seven kilometers from east to west and three kilometers from north to south. It is a well-known scenic spot in Hedong City and the largest natural park.

At this moment, the originally picturesque Yun Mountain had inexplicably shortened, littered with rubble and crisscrossed trees, remnants of bodies scattered everywhere.

Smoke filled the air, a scene of desolation and bloodiness.

A giant beast, its body mangled and bloody, lay helplessly on the ground, emitting cries of despair. Its abdomen had been torn open by shells, spilling intestines and organs, exuding a pungent bloody stench.

A barbarian youth stood petrified next to the beast's corpse, his face stricken with terror.

The earlier apocalyptic scene of earth-shattering destruction deeply shook his spirit.

He personally witnessed, the powerful warriors of the tribe being effortlessly torn to shreds by the heavenly fire, blown into the air, and he also saw the giant beast he was tasked to tame, collapse with a wail, powerless to struggle.

Although after the mutation, human strength had weakened a thousandfold, regressing almost overnight from modern times to the near past, they were still not to be reckoned with by the barbarians.

This large barbarian army had barely surfaced when it was spotted by reconnaissance airships hovering above. Half an hour later, before the entire barbarian army could emerge from the passage, overwhelming artillery shells and rocket barrages began to raze the ground.

Several months had passed since the second mutation, enough time to urgently retrofit weapons no longer suited to the current environment. For instance, weapons originally with electronic fire control had been converted to mechanical control, and the ammunition, weakened post-mutation, had been mixed with more powerful TNT and hexogen compounds.

In the era of black powder, the propellant and explosive were the same component, that being black powder.

But as the times moved to the near-modern, explosives and propellants began to separate. Now the propellant in cannons is typically smokeless powder, while the explosives are usually more powerful TNT and hexogen mixtures.

The two cannot be substituted; propellants require relatively stable combustion, pushing the shell forward in the barrel by expanding gases, while explosives ignite rapidly, almost instantaneously exploding.

Before the mutation, replacing the propellant with explosives would result in only blowing up the barrel itself.

However, since the mutation, the rate of chemical reactions has decreased, weakening the power of explosive weapons. As long as the charge is controlled, the barrel can now withstand this bore pressure, with firing ranges potentially exceeding those before.

When a barrage of artillery and rockets, roaring from several kilometers or even over ten kilometers away, hit, the barbarian army was instantly devastated, completely caught off guard. At this moment, no matter how strong an individual's power, facing such an earth-shattering scene, they fared no better than sheep to be slaughtered.

If it weren't for the God of Courage miraculously intervening at the last moment, this war would have been a completely asymmetric massacre.

...

From the start of the war until now, the barbarian youth stood like a stone statue, mind blank, unable to recover for a long time, until a lash struck his body with a sharp snap.

Feeling the scorching pain on his back, his spirit immediately returned, shivering into full clarity.

Turning around, he promptly knelt on the ground: "Priest, my lord!"

"Believer, what are you standing here for? Return to camp and assemble. The great God of Courage has descended in person; all resistance is like a long spear into soft mud, easily pierced through. My lord will surely occupy this world," the priest fervently encouraged.

"Yes, Priest, my lord!" The barbarian youth instantly stood up.

Has the great God of Courage truly descended?

Just earlier, he was too frightened to notice anything.

Recalling the greatness of the God of Courage, his previously panicked emotions quickly faded, and he immediately felt invigorated.

But soon, the excitement in his heart swiftly subsided.

He saw the battlefield scattered with wounded and remnants of bodies, pained moans echoing continuously.

Then he spotted a familiar figure, his face turning pale, and he hurried forward: "Uncle Sireid, what happened to you?"

He saw Uncle Sireid's strong chest had been pierced with a massive hole, blood gurgling out nonstop, only exhaling, no longer inhaling: "Uncle Sireid, hold on, I'll go plead to the Priest!"

"Is that you, Little... Little Saiqi? Don't bother the Priest, it's useless... Don't be sad, besides I'm... I'm going to the Divine Country to enjoy blessings!" He said with difficulty, blood spilling as he managed to pull out a stiff smile.

"Yes, Uncle Sireid, I'm not sad, I heard the Priest say it's a land overflowing with milk and honey. You'll live happily there, no pain, no death, food everywhere, and you can eat meat every day, oily and fragrant meat." Though he said this, Little Saiqi couldn't stop his tears from flowing.

Since he was young, only Uncle Sireid treated him well; every time he returned from hunting, he would kindly share some with him. Whenever he felt lost and helpless, Uncle Sireid would come and comfort him.

Even becoming a Beast Tamer for the tribe was because Uncle Sireid spent several animal skins to pull some strings and got him in. Otherwise, as an orphan, how could he have become an enviable Beast Tamer?

In his eyes, Uncle Sireid was the closest family he had.

"Yes... indeed, I've longed to go to the Divine Country." Sireid said, his face momentarily flushed unnaturally as if with a final burst of energy: "Little Saiqi, this war is extremely dangerous. Be clever, take great care. I feel... I feel... the great God of Courage..."

Before he could finish, a mouthful of blood rushed out. His eyes bulged, and he fell silent.

"Uncle Sireid!" Little Saiqi cried out in sorrow.

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