Firearm Horizontal Push

Above the wilderness, dust billowed, the sky-obscuring yellow sand seemingly raising the curtain on the impending slaughter. The formation of the Great Xia Imperial Guards advanced steadily like a torrent of steel, their leather boots stomping on the parched earth and emitting a chilling rumble. At the very front were the soldiers of the Firearms Camp, clad in uniform black iron short-armor, expressionless, like emotionless killing machines.

"Charge, all of you! Chop these imperial lapdogs into minced meat! Then we live!"

A one-eyed bandit leader, his face covered in fierce flesh, waved a ghost-head broadsword and roared madly with a raspy voice. Behind him, tens of thousands of fierce bandits howled like a pack of wild dogs catching the scent of blood. Wielding an assortment of swords and axes, they sprinted forward with savage expressions. Relying on their sheer numbers, they completely disregarded the imperial guards holding "fire sticks" across from them. In their minds, war was simply white blades going in and red blades coming out; whoever had the thickest arms and the loudest voice was king.

"A bunch of softies holding thin sticks! Watch me cleave you in half with one strike!" A bald brute leading the charge laughed maniacally, excited saliva even dripping from the corner of his mouth. He could already picture himself charging into the enemy ranks and slaughtering them all in a majestic display of dominance.

However, what greeted them was cold machinery and ruthless discipline.

The commander of the Firearms Camp took a deep breath, his gaze sharp as an eagle's, locking onto the bandit horde that had just entered firing range. He abruptly drew the sword at his waist, pointed it straight at the heavens, channeled his true qi, and unleashed an explosive shout. The voice pierced through the clamor, ringing clearly in the ears of every soldier: "Raise your guns—"

Swish!

A uniform sound of friction rang out as thousands of soldiers in the Firearms Camp simultaneously raised their runic firearms. The stocks were pressed tightly against their shoulders, the muzzles leveled. The dark barrels were like the eyes of the Grim Reaper, coldly watching the howling bandits charging toward them. Sunlight spilled over the cold guns, reflecting a heart-palpitating gleam, while the distinctive, pungent scent of gunpowder already permeated the air.

"Aim—"

The soldiers' breathing instantly steadied. Looking through their sights, their eyes firmly locked onto the bandits who were still screaming unbearable curses. Not a single person panicked at the enemy's approach. This extreme calmness caused the entire Firearms Camp to exude a suffocating sense of oppression.

"Fire!" The commander's longsword slashed down fiercely!

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang—

At the command, a thousand guns roared in unison! The deafening gunfire instantly tore through the sky like thunder on an open plain, startling the distant birds into frantic flight. The muzzles spat scorching tongues of fire and thick white smoke. The dense volley of lead balls poured down like a violent storm, weaving an absolutely insurmountable wall of deadly firepower in midair.

The bald brute charging at the very front did not even have time to wipe the maniacal grin off his face before he felt a violent jolt in his chest, as if he had been viciously smashed by an invisible giant hammer. He looked down, staring in astonishment at the several bloody holes that had appeared out of nowhere on his chest. Blood sprayed out like a fountain. "What... what kind of hidden weapon is this..." Before he could even utter a scream, his body slammed heavily into the ground like a torn sack, dead on the spot.

"Ah—! My leg! My leg is broken!"

"Help! My stomach is blown open!"

The front row of fierce bandits had no time to react before they were harvested in droves by the bullets. Flesh and blood appeared so incredibly fragile before the cold firearms. Countless bloody blossoms bloomed tragically amidst the sprinting crowd, and the screams and wails instantly drowned out the previous battle cries. Some were hit in vital spots and fell dead without a single groan; others had their limbs severed by large-caliber rounds, rolling madly on the dusty ground and letting out heart-rending shrieks.

With just a single volley, the bandits' charging formation was like hitting an invisible meat-grinding iron wall. A massive swath of people at the very front fell uniformly like harvested wheat. Corpses piled up layer upon layer, and fresh blood instantly dyed the earth red, converging into glaring crimson streams.

Seeing this, the bandits in the rear abruptly halted their forward momentum. The one-eyed leader's eyes nearly popped out of his head, his pupils shrinking to the size of pinpricks. Their originally arrogant and unbridled insolence was instantly extinguished by this terrifying sight.

"What... what kind of sorcery is this?!" one bandit trembled all over, his machete dropping to the ground with a clang.

They had never seen such a terrifying weapon! There was no need for close-quarters sword clashes, no need for desperate hand-to-hand combat; they had not even clearly seen the enemy's faces before a massive chunk of their own side was wiped out! This invisible deterrence of taking lives from afar was deadlier than the blades of any peerless master, directly shattering their crude understanding of warfare.

"Switch ranks! Raise your guns—" In the Firearms Camp's position, the first row of soldiers swiftly retreated to reload, while the second row stepped forward coldly, once again raising their dark muzzles.

"Run... Run! It's divine punishment! It's the imperial court's dark magic!"

Someone screamed in despair, and their morale, like a punctured balloon, completely shattered with a pop. The remaining tens of thousands of fierce bandits lost every ounce of their former bravery, their psychological defenses collapsing entirely. Crying for their mothers and fathers, they turned and fled frantically. To run faster than the others, they shoved and trampled each other wildly; some even went mad and swung their blades at comrades who blocked their path.

"Get lost! Don't block my way!"

The bandit formation, which had little discipline to begin with, devolved into total chaos. People stepped on people, pushing and shoving, fleeing in all directions like stray dogs without the slightest ability to resist.

Meanwhile, in the far rear of the battlefield, Wang Hao stood with his hands behind his back, clad in a suit of bright yellow armor. In front of him stood a seemingly impenetrable wall of over a thousand heavy infantrymen. The fine steel long shields in their hands interlocked seamlessly, blocking all stray rocks and flying bullets from the outside, ensuring the absolute safety of this Great Xia Emperor.

Wang Hao watched this suspense-free, one-sided massacre unfold before him with cold eyes, his face devoid of even the slightest ripple of emotion. To him, the purgatory-like scene of flying flesh and widespread wailing was nothing more than a cleansing protocol being executed with precision.

"Your Majesty, the rebel army has completely routed. Should we order the cavalry camp to pursue and kill them?" The commander of the imperial guards beside him knelt on one knee, his eyes filled with a fanatical fervor for this new weapon and a deep reverence for the Emperor.

"There is no rush. Let the bullets fly a little longer," Wang Hao said, a cold sneer curving the corners of his mouth.

He sneered inwardly. Did these rebels really think they could stand against the state machine with nothing but hot-blooded zeal and a few peasant fighting stances? He held no pity for these ruthless bandits who ravaged the land, slaughtered the commoners, and sought to subvert the imperial power. This was the price for doing evil in this era. No matter how great your martial arts were, a single gunshot would lay you low; no matter how overwhelming your numbers, you would be obliterated by suppressive fire. Looking through the gaps in the shield wall, Wang Hao stared coldly at the flying flesh and blood in the distance, his eyes completely devoid of emotion.

Charging headlong into an array of firearms with nothing but bodies of flesh and blood? Who gave you the courage? Fish Leong? Wang Hao mocked coldly in his mind. He did not have a single shred of bleeding-heart sympathy for these rebels.

"Within the range of cannons lies the truth; beneath the volley of muskets lies imperial power." Wang Hao narrowed his eyes slightly. "This is the rule We shall establish for the entire world!"

Today, he was not only going to slaughter them physically, but also break them mentally. He would make every ambitious schemer in the world see clearly that in the face of Great Xia's runic firearms, all individual martial valor was nothing more than a joke.