I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 473 Desperate Snakeman
Is fuel expensive?
Not expensive.

In modern industrial society, as long as you don't have high requirements for the quality of combustion, there are plenty of ignitable liquids available, and they're very cheap.

For example, waste engine oil and waste diesel fuel, although they cause serious pollution when burned, burn unstably, are highly toxic, and are unsuitable for daily use as fuel, and may involve environmental violations.

But this is another world, and these things are free for Chris... He just needs to say "I can handle them" on an online shopping platform, and the seller practically gives him these liquids for free.

Concentrated sulfuric acid is not expensive. As an industrial byproduct, Chris checked on an online shopping platform and found that if he ordered more than 100 tons at once, it would only cost 600 yuan per ton.

Therefore, for Chris, filling in the snake people's lair with industrial products was much cheaper than ordering soldiers to rush in and fight the snake people to the death.

Even if the ones going in to risk their lives are players, or a railway regiment composed of locals.

Anyone who can do math would make the same choice as Chris in the same situation.

The lake's water level was gradually dropping, like a critically ill patient having their blood slowly drained. The dark green, viscous venom was continuously pumped out through thick pipes, gushing towards the diverted channel dug in the distance, and eventually flowing into the sea.

Each drop in water level exposed the menacing snake-man's lair more to the dim light of day.

It is larger and more twisted than anyone could imagine.

The exposed parts are no longer simply rocks and human remains, but present a disturbing combination of organic and inorganic forms.

The main structure is made of a black, strange substance that looks like it has been smelted, and it is inlaid with countless pale white bones belonging to various creatures, most of which can be identified as humanoid.

Some areas were covered with thick, still slightly wriggling dark green moss or fungal carpets, exuding a strong aura of decay.

Countless holes and cracks of varying sizes covered its surface, like a honeycomb, or the hollowed-out shell of some enormous creature, bottomless, constantly emanating an unsettling evil aura and whispers.

Byron stood at a safe distance, his face growing increasingly pale.

As the water level dropped and more of the nest's structure was exposed, the evil god's will in his spiritual perception not only did not weaken, but became clearer, more restless, and more... hungry.

It's like a ferocious beast being gradually forced out of its lair; although it senses the threat, it also more directly reveals its fangs.

He could "hear" even denser and more frantic rustling sounds coming from the depths of the lair. It was the preparation of thousands of snake people in their final ritual in despair, their fear and madness becoming the best food for the evil god's will.

The players were the most composed construction team. The steam pumps roared continuously. Ignoring the summer heat, the engineering players put on their Death Legion suits again and, risking heatstroke, constantly adjusted the position of the pump pipes to ensure maximum pumping efficiency.

More people are reinforcing the temporary roads and moving the sealed metal barrels closer to the edge of the lakebed in preparation for the next "filling" phase.

They didn't talk, only gave brief instructions and gestures; everything was done in an efficient yet subdued silence.

The railway guards stood watch on the perimeter, their eyes fixed warily on the deathly silent yet ominous nest, while also glancing frequently at the ever-growing number of iron barrels, their gazes a mixture of curiosity and unease.

They knew what was going to happen, but they couldn't imagine what it would look like.

The air was filled with the stench inherent to the swamp, the pungent smell of chemical reagents, and the increasingly intense whispers of the evil god, all intertwining to create an almost suffocating pressure. Time seemed to stretch out, each second passing by with the drop in the water level gauge.

The lower half of the nest, now completely exposed, reveals numerous enormous openings leading deeper underground. Inside, it is pitch black, with occasional eerie reflections and the sound of dripping water, as if leading to a bottomless abyss.

That is the main inlet planned for filling with sulfuric acid and fuel oil.

Everything is ready; all that's needed is for the water level to drop to the predetermined height before the relentless industrial "purification" process begins.

An eerie silence hung over the battlefield, broken only by the roar of water pumps and the anxious pounding of hearts. The oppressive atmosphere before the storm enveloped everyone.

Byron could even feel the ground beneath his feet trembling slightly, whether from the vibrations of the water pump or the final struggle of the evil being deep within the lair, he couldn't tell.

When the murky water level finally dropped to the predetermined mark, revealing the dark, gaping holes at the base of the nest that resembled enormous wounds, Heart of Steel raised his right hand expressionlessly.

The hustle and bustle of the entire lakeside seemed to vanish in an instant, leaving only the final gasps of the water pumps and the mournful sound of the wind sweeping across the swamp.

All eyes, those of the players and the Railroad soldiers, were focused on that hand.

His arm swung down suddenly.

"Begin injecting sulfuric acid!"

The orders were quickly disseminated through simple flag signals and shouts.

The player engineering team, which was already prepared, immediately sprang into action.

They worked in pairs, pushing a hand-cranked pump attached to a huge iron barrel and a power pump driven by a small steam engine.

The heavy, lead-lined, corrosion-resistant hoses, like awakened giant pythons, were dragged and thrown by the players into the bubbling holes at the bottom of the lake, where there was still a lot of green liquid that had not been drained.

"Open the valve!"

With a command, the gears meshed, the piston began to move, and after a brief silence, the pipe suddenly shuddered, emitting a dull gurgling sound as liquid was forcibly pushed.

Immediately afterwards, thick, brownish-yellow liquid, accompanied by a pungent, tear-inducing white smoke, gushed out of the pipe and poured into those bottomless, dark green holes.

"Hiss... hiss..."

Almost as soon as the sulfuric acid dissolved into the water in those pits, a violent and terrifying sound came from the depths of the nest below.

The sound wasn't an explosion, but rather the death shriek of something being rapidly corroded, decomposed, and carbonized. Large amounts of water bubbled up from below, bringing with them a thick cloud of white smoke and an indescribable stench, a mixture of sulfur and burnt organic matter, as if the nest itself were painfully vomiting.

Byron, who had been daring to stand on the lakeshore peering down, suddenly ducked back and ran away without looking back. During this time, he covered his mouth and nose, and even from a distance, the smell made his stomach churn and his soul tremble.

He could clearly feel the immense and evil will emanating from the nest beneath the lake, emitting a silent, extremely painful shriek. The originally chaotic and restless spiritual fluctuations now struggled and twisted wildly, like live fish thrown into boiling oil.

At the bottom of the lake, beneath a shallow, viscous liquid, the dark green fungal carpet and moss covering the lakebed wither, turn black, carbonize, and emit fine foam and white smoke at a visible rate.

The white bones embedded in the black substance were splashed with strong acid, causing them to sizzle and quickly become brittle and dull.

Even more chillingly, from some smaller cracks, faint, extremely shrill and short hissing screams could not possibly be made naturally, but they were quickly abruptly stopped by a louder "hissing" sound of corrosion.

The players ignored this, calmly operating the pumps and monitoring the flow rate to ensure that every liter of sulfuric acid was accurately injected into the target area.

Actually, it doesn't matter if the target isn't injected. The area at the bottom of the lake is limited. As long as enough concentrated sulfuric acid is poured in, some will eventually flow in. It's just that players who pursue efficiency and perfection are unwilling to be perfunctory.

The players' faces were hidden behind gas masks, revealing no expression; clad only in their Death Legion suits, they were more terrifying than death itself at that moment.

Concentrated sulfuric acid is not only reacting with the material structure of the nest, but also violently clashing with the evil energy permeating it.

Byron, who had run far away, could "see" that the filthy aura was becoming unstable under the corrosive acidic environment, twisting and breaking like a spider web thrown into a raging fire.

This silent massacre, devoid of swords and bloodshed, lasted for quite some time.

Only after all five hundred-plus large iron drums marked with the word "sulfuric acid" had been pumped empty did the players quickly remove the pipes, seal the pump outlets, and begin connecting the next batch of iron drums marked with different symbols... those fuel drums containing waste engine oil and waste diesel.

At the edge of the lakebed, only empty iron barrels remained, along with an even stronger and more nauseating stench of death in the air.

The snake-man's lair is much quieter now, but it's a deathly silence, a silence filled with pain and destruction, as if everything inside has been completely "digested" by the industrial acid.

Byron gazed at the nest that still stood in the middle of the lake, yet seemed to be rotting and dying from the inside out, and his body trembled slightly.

He had never imagined that evil could be cleansed in such a way... so cheaply and so thoroughly, more cruel and absolute than any holy light or purification spell.

Iron Will checked the progress, nodded, and said to the person next to him, "Very good. Let the sulfuric acid work for a little longer, and remind me in an hour."

An hour passed in deathly silence and an increasingly pungent, acrid smell.

The residual sulfuric acid at the bottom of the lake was still exerting its residual heat, with a faint hissing sound that could not be heard incessantly, and wisps of white smoke shrouded the area as if it were a ghostly realm.

When the appointed time arrived, Iron Will raised his hand again without the slightest hesitation.

"Begin fuel loading!"

The order was given, and the pumps that had already been connected roared up again.

This time, what gushed out of the pipes was no longer brownish-yellow acid, but viscous, dark waste engine oil and waste diesel fuel with a strong hydrocarbon smell.

These industrial wastes from another world have become the cheapest fuel for destruction, like filthy blood, forcibly injected into the "blood vessels" of the nest and every depression at the bottom of the lake.

The black grease spread rapidly, covering the remaining sulfuric acid film and carbonized organic residue, filling every crevice and seeping into every hole.

The lakebed quickly turned pitch black and shiny, reflecting an eerie light.

But at that moment, something unexpected happened!

As if sensing the coming of the end times, the evil will deep within the lair, which had been dormant for a moment, let out its final and most frantic roar!
Rumble, rumble...

Several huge holes near the base of the twisted building in the middle of the lake suddenly exploded, not from explosives, but from being smashed open from the inside by countless frenzied figures.

Thousands upon thousands of snake people!
Like ants bursting through a dam, or nightmares gushing forth from the cracks of hell, they emitted a desperate and frenzied collective cry, rushing outwards recklessly.

Most of their scales had been corroded by sulfuric acid, leaving mottled patches and peeling off, revealing bright red, ulcerated flesh. Many of the snake-men had cloudy eyes, clearly blind, and were only charging outwards by their last frenzied instincts.

They swam across the oil-covered lakebed, splashing up black oil droplets, and plunged without hesitation into the deadly swamp mixed with residual sulfuric acid and fuel.

Their goal is singular... to escape this desolate land that is about to turn into a living hell!

"They're out!!"

The railway soldiers on the distant high ground cried out in alarm and instinctively raised their flintlock muskets.

But there was no need for any reminders; this scene was already within Iron Hearts' expectations, and the other players had made preparations in advance.

Players wielding various cold weapons lined up along the lake, forming shield walls to block the pumps. The Tiger Crouching Cannon roared, showering a rain of lead onto the lower lakebed.

"Pour it in, speed it up, pour in all the fuel!"

The voice of steely ambition remains as cold as ever.

More pumps were running at full capacity, and the black oil gushed even more violently into the lake, almost paving the way for the charging snakemen.

The snake-men, rushing to the front and trying to climb upstream, were quickly engulfed by the viscous fuel. Even though their serpentine movements were more reliable than human legs, they still slipped backward in the grease.

The following creatures continued to surge upwards, crushing their companions' bodies in the process. Inevitably, their bodies became covered in fuel, and their hissing sounds became muffled and strange under the grease.

The scene was both terrifying and tragic, filled with desperate madness.

However, no matter how fast they are, they can't outpace the efficiency of industrial pumping.

As the first group of snake-people struggled to wade across nearly half of the lakebed and were about to approach the relatively solid shore...

Seeing the scene where the lake was completely covered in fuel and a large number of snake-men had rushed into it, Ironheart knew that the time had come.

He took a deep breath, picked up a javelin that had been prepared beforehand and was tied with strips of oil-soaked cloth, and thrust it into the brazier beside him.

Flames ignited.

Without the slightest hesitation, he mustered all his strength and hurled the javelin towards the dark lakebed covered with snake people and fuel oil.

The arrow traced a sparking arc through the air.

Time seemed to freeze at this moment.

Everyone's gaze, including that of the snake-man, involuntarily followed that faint yet deadly spark.

As it fell and touched the bottom of the lake...

boom……

A single spark ignited the entire world!
The deafening explosion wasn't a single sound, but rather a chain reaction that instantly engulfed the entire lake basin, with flames shooting skyward, even surpassing the height of the nest structure in the center of the lake.

Huge tongues of fire licked the sky, illuminating the dark swamp as if it were daytime!

The flames were golden, but the edges were trailed by thick black smoke from the incomplete combustion of fuel, instantly turning the entire lake area into a huge, roaring incinerator.

Those snake-men who were struggling and charging in the fuel were unable to even scream before being engulfed and carbonized by the flames that reached thousands of degrees.

Their figures twisted and deformed in the sea of ​​fire, then shattered and dissipated like fragile ashes.

More flames, as if possessed by life, flowed back into the depths of the nest along the channels they had rushed out. Inside the nest, a large amount of sulfuric acid that had been poured in reacted with organic matter to produce flammable gas, which, upon contact with the flames, caused an even more violent secondary explosion.

Deep, muffled roars echoed from underground, causing the entire earth to tremble violently.

The nest's external structure collapsed and shattered under the internal pressure, and huge black rocks and burning bones were thrown high into the air by the blast wave, then crashed down like meteorites.

The heat wave hit you in the face; even from a distance, you could feel the intense heat that could burn your skin. The air was filled with the pungent smell of burning fuel and the stench of burning protein, making it almost suffocating.

The most dangerous thing is the fuel oil that is still being poured into the lake, which makes the fire in the lake pit even more fierce and continuous.

The sounds of explosions, roaring flames, and collapsing buildings intertwined to create a symphony of industrial destruction.

There was no fighting, no confrontation, only absolute one-sided, indiscriminate incineration.

The players and soldiers had already retreated to a safer distance, silently watching the sea of ​​fire they had created, waiting for the lakeside pumps and steam pumps to collapse... Even steel could not withstand such high temperatures for long.

Their faces were illuminated by the flickering firelight, their expressions hidden behind masks and shadows, making it impossible to discern their joy or anger.

Byron stood at a distance, gazing at the flames that had devoured thousands of evil lives and completely purified the land. His body trembled violently, his mouth agape, but no sound came out.

The flames continued to burn and explode, as if they were going to burn to the ends of the earth.

In the distant royal study, Chris watched the spectacular, volcanic eruption-like flames on the live stream and nodded in satisfaction.

"Cleaned up."

He said softly and turned off the screen.

However, he didn't think the snake-man in the middle of the lake was planning anything, even if the evil god descended.

Even if there is one, it's okay. There are tons of gunpowder waiting to be fired. After the gunpowder burns out, the players will throw explosives into the lake and detonate them again to eliminate any potential accidents.

(End of this chapter)