My father is Chongzhen? Then I have no choice but to rebel.

Then, under the gaze of countless stunned, horrified, and incredulous eyes, a massive steel structure, far beyond anyone's imagination, spewing thick white smoke and emitting a deafening roar as if ten thousand blacksmith shops were operating simultaneously, slowly but resolutely "squeezed" out from the shattered tent "wound," completely exposing its hideous and terrifying appearance to the pale winter light of the frontier!
"My God! What...what kind of monster is that?!"

"Tengri! Is this...is this the mountain god's mount?!"

"A house made of iron... iron? No... it's a monster! A steel monster!"

Exclamations, screams, and the terrified neighing of warhorses erupted from the Mongol camp, turning the place into chaos! Even many Ming soldiers, especially the local garrison in Xuanfu, had never seen such a thing before, and were all dumbfounded and stunned.

What a deadly weapon it was!

Standing approximately thirteen meters tall and over fifteen meters long, the entire structure is constructed from thick, densely riveted dark gray steel plates, featuring sharp angles and rugged lines, exuding the raw, powerful beauty of the industrial age.

Below are dozens of giant wooden wheels, each taller than a person and encased in heavy iron hoops, with axles as thick as roof beams.

The massive body has a sloping steel "cabin" at the front, filled with observation holes and firing ports. Above it is a platform structure resembling a castle tower, with crenellations around the platform and several dark cannon muzzles protruding from the firing ports, pointing towards the sky.

At the very top, a thick iron chimney was frantically spewing out white, high-temperature steam, emitting a sharp hiss that mingled with the deep rumble of the boiler below.

The entire steel behemoth, silently "crouching" there, exuded a suffocating sense of absolute oppression stemming from its sheer size, weight, and power! Sunlight shone on the cold steel plates, reflecting a cold, hard light, creating a terrifying contrast between hell and earth with the surrounding white snow, warm tents, and flesh-and-blood soldiers and warhorses!
Abnai's mouth was agape enough to fit a fist, his eyes were wide open as if they were about to burst, and all the color had drained from his face, leaving only boundless fear and bewilderment.

The Mongolian warriors behind him, those riders who once dominated the grasslands and were fearless in the face of death, were now frozen in place as if struck by a spell. Many of them even involuntarily retreated on their horses, as if getting too close to that steel monster would mean being devoured.

This was completely beyond their comprehension; it was something that should never exist in the human world! Was it a myth? A nightmare? Or... a demon summoned from the abyss by the Crown Prince of the Ming Dynasty?
However, the shock was only just beginning!
Suddenly, the chimney atop the steel behemoth spewed out an even thicker and higher plume of white steam, accompanied by a piercingly sharp hissing sound!
At the same time, the rumbling sound inside its massive body suddenly increased by an order of magnitude, becoming like ten thousand drums beating at once!

"Rumble! Rumble--!!!"

Under the horrified gazes of everyone, the massive steel behemoth, weighing hundreds of thousands of pounds and which should have been motionless, began to slowly but surely turn its dozens of huge iron-clad wooden wheels! The heavy wheels rolled over the fragments of the tent and the frozen ground below, making a teeth-grinding "crunch... crunch..." sound and leaving deep ruts!

It moved! It really moved! Not by oxen or horses, not by human labor, but by its own continuous, terrifyingly roaring internal power, propelling its enormous body forward! Although the speed was slow, about the pace of a person walking briskly, the slow but determined movement, combined with its mountain-like size and deafening roar, created an unparalleled visual and psychological impact!
The earth groaned and trembled slightly under its crushing weight.

"Eternal Heaven!"

"Run...run! The iron lump is running!"

"A devil! This is a steel devil that can run!"

Both the Mongols and the Ming army, unaware of the truth, were now in a state of utter frenzy and shock! Many Mongol cavalrymen, unable to control their frightened horses, began to retreat, and their formation began to break down.

But this is not over yet!
As the steel behemoth moved, it adjusted its direction, aiming its side gun emplacements at a deserted, empty snow slope further away from the training ground, where several piles of abandoned earth and boulders were stacked.

Immediately afterwards, on the platform atop the behemoth, an artilleryman waved a small flag.

"boom--!!!"

A deafening roar, far more muffled and heavy than a rifle volley, seemingly capable of shaking one's internal organs, suddenly erupted from a gun emplacement on the side of the steel behemoth! The muzzle spewed forth several feet of orange-red flames and billowing smoke! Although it wasn't live ammunition, the sheer volume of sound and light, and the muzzle blast, was still awe-inspiring!
"Boom——!!!"

An even more violent explosion rang out, and a huge cloud of smoke, mixed with mud, snow, and fire, rose from the snow slope, causing the ground to shake violently! Broken frozen soil and snow were thrown dozens of feet into the air, and then fell back down like hail!
"My God! It...it can fire a cannon!"

"Running and firing at the same time?! How is that even possible?!"

"A monster! A real monster! A monster that's invulnerable to blades and spears and can breathe fire!"

The Mongol camp was in complete chaos! Fear spread like a plague. Abunai and his generals had completely lost their ability to think; they simply stared blankly, like puppets, at the steel behemoth that spewed smoke and fire, rumbling forward as if crawling out of a furnace from hell, strolling leisurely across the snowfield, turning and occasionally bombarding distant targets with its earth-shattering "cannon fire," creating clouds of smoke symbolizing death and destruction.

The scene was filled with absurdity, horror, and yet incredibly real impact, crushing the last vestiges of glory and fantasy in cavalry warfare during the era of cold weapons!
This is a complete, timeless, and dimensionally superior display! It is the ultimate deterrent of industrial power against nomadic civilization!
With this "Divine Iron Fortress," Zhu Cilang etched an indelible mark, known as "irresistible," into the hearts of Abunai and all Mongolians.

From this day forward, the rules of the grasslands have been completely rewritten.

After a long while, the deafening roar finally subsided, leaving only the gradually weakening hissing sound of steam leaking from the steel behemoth's exhaust pipe, like the behemoth's heavy breathing, which sounded particularly jarring in the sudden silence.

The colossal structure known as the "Divine Machine Iron Fortress" stood silently on the grassland. The rivets on its dark gray steel body gleamed coldly in the dim light of the day, and wisps of thin white smoke rose from the top of the chimney, merging into the leaden-gray clouds.

It's like a steel mountain that suddenly descended to earth, standing there silently, proclaiming a timeless and despairing power.

The wind suddenly picked up and became fierce again. It was no longer the gentle breeze that fluttered the banners, but a sharp, knife-like wind unique to the harsh winter in the border region. It howled across the empty snowfield, stirring up the lingering smoke and fine snow dust, making a mournful "whooshing" sound.

But the sound of the wind at this moment was like some kind of background noise, unable to break the eerie silence that enveloped the grassland, a silence so heavy it was almost suffocating.

The Ming army, numbering over 40,000 men, was in well-organized formation, while the Mongol cavalry were packed together. However, apart from the occasional restless snorting of the warhorses and the sound of their hooves pawing the ground, there was no human noise to be heard.

The air seemed to freeze, filled with a mixture of extreme shock, fear, bewilderment, and a sense of surviving a catastrophe. On the Mongol cavalry's side, their previous ferocity and arrogance had vanished completely.

Thirty thousand pairs of eyes, whether belonging to tribal chiefs, centurions, or the most ordinary riders, all lost focus at this moment, staring blankly at the steel behemoth, or bewilderedly scanning the training ground's target ruins riddled with holes by "rifle" bullets.

Many people's facial muscles were still twitching slightly involuntarily, and the knuckles of the hands holding the scimitars or bows and arrows were stiff and white from excessive force. Some even had their hands trembling slightly.

What they have passed down through generations is the speed of the steed, the precision of the bow, the sharpness of the saber, the tactics of a wolf pack, and the bravery of a lone wolf.

But all of this before my eyes, that dense, chilling storm of metal that seemed to never end, that steel monster that could run on its own without being led by animals, spewing fire and smoke, and emitting a deafening roar…

This had completely exceeded the boundaries of their understanding, touching upon the deepest fear in their worldview—the fear of unknown, incomprehensible, and overwhelming forces.

This is no war between mortals! This is clearly the kind of warfare only demons and gods in legends possess!

With the Eternal Heaven above, could it be that the Crown Prince of the Ming Dynasty has truly received the favor of some god or demon, or is he himself... some kind of terrifying being walking among mortals?
The thought of resistance, like a candle flickering in a storm, had long been extinguished, leaving not even a sliver of a spark.

Courage? Before that silent, steel behemoth, any courage seemed laughable and pale. Their minds were now blank, filled only with instinctive fear and bewilderment; they seemed to have even temporarily lost the ability to think about what to do next.

In contrast, the atmosphere in the Ming army camp was completely different.

Although many local troops stationed in Xuanfu were stunned by the "Divine Iron Fortress," an indescribable emotion, a mixture of ecstasy, pride, and absolute confidence, soon ignited in the hearts of all the Ming soldiers who witnessed the "exercise."

They straightened their backs, gripped their weapons tightly, their eyes gleaming, and their chests involuntarily puffed out.

The previous concerns about His Highness the Crown Prince's risky trip to the alliance meeting, and the fear of the number of Mongol cavalry, all vanished at this moment. In their place was an unprecedented confidence, a sense of superiority that looked down upon everything.

The look in their eyes as they gazed at the dejected Mongol cavalry opposite them was no longer one of wariness and hostility, but rather one of undisguised pity and contempt as if they were looking at "lambs to the slaughter."

Yes, mercy.

In the minds of these Ming soldiers, now wielding "divine weapons," the 30,000 once-feared steppe cavalry opposite them were now nothing more than a group of armored, mounted targets. Several generals even huddled together, excitedly whispering among themselves:

"Hey, did you see that? Those shots were like skewering candied hawthorns from 300 paces away! If they were firing in a line, even 30,000 more would be a waste, let alone 30,000!"

"That iron thing is even scarier! My God, it can run, it can yell, and it can fire cannons! If this thing is driven to the front lines, it won't even need to fire a shot; the noise alone will be enough to scare the Tartar horses to the ground!"

"Your Highness is truly amazing! With these, our Great Ming Dynasty... hahaha!"

It is no exaggeration to say that the morale of these tens of thousands of Ming soldiers has reached its peak at this moment.

The overwhelming technological gap not only crushed the enemy's morale but also drastically reshaped the mindset of our own side. This is a kind of arrogant "spiritedness" built on absolute confidence in our strength.

This eerie silence, a stark contrast between ice and fire, lasted for about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.

It wasn't until Li Hu received another signal from Zhu Cilang and sent someone to sound the horn signaling "The exercise is over, all units return to their positions" that the stagnant air seemed to begin to flow again.

Inside the tent, the charcoal brazier was burning brightly, dispelling the biting chill that seeped in through the gaps in the curtains, creating a warm and even slightly hot atmosphere.

The food and drinks had been rearranged, with warm milk tea and stronger mare's milk wine wafting their aromas. However, the atmosphere was completely different from the superficially harmonious but inwardly tense atmosphere of their initial meeting, and also quite different from the heavy and oppressive feeling before the exercise began.

Zhu Cilang took his seat in the main seat and took off his cloak, handing it to his attendant.

Behind him stood a group of high-ranking Ming generals, including Ma Xianglin and Zhang Shize, on either side of him. Each of them stood ramrod straight, hands on the hilts of their swords, their eyes sharp as lightning, their faces bearing undisguised arrogance and scrutiny stemming from their absolute power.

The way they looked at the Mongol leaders opposite them was oppressive, as if they were not in a meeting and negotiations, but receiving an audience with the defeated.

On the other hand, Abuna's side...

Abner himself seemed to have aged ten years in an instant; his previous shrewdness, composure, and even the faint arrogance had all disappeared.

He walked heavily to the seat, sat down slowly, his back no longer straight, but slightly hunched. Behind him, Qiqige's face was also somewhat pale, her beautiful eyes still showing lingering fear, but she tried to straighten her spine, though her tightly pursed lips and slightly trembling fingertips betrayed the turmoil in her heart.

The other Taijis and generals of the Khorchin tribe were like wilted eggplants, their heads drooping, their eyes darting around, not daring to meet the eyes of the Ming generals. Occasionally, when they glanced outside the tent, a trace of uncontrollable fear would flash across their faces.

Their luxurious fur robes and glittering ornaments seemed to have lost their luster, reflecting their ashen faces. Inside the tent, it was warm as spring, but in their hearts, it was probably colder than the icy wilderness outside. (End of Chapter)