Da Ming: The system granted me immortality; I clock in every day.

"Li, the accountant! Quickly write this down! A spotted saber-toothed leopard skin, in excellent condition, with one spine, undamaged!"

Zhao Laolang directed two men to throw a blood-stained, spotted leopard skin onto the mule cart, then excitedly shouted at Li Changqing.

Li Changqing picked up his pen and steadily wrote a line of ink on the account book.

"One leopard skin, worth ten taels of silver. One spine, worth five taels of silver. Master, this account is hereby recorded."

His tone was calm, as if this bloody hunting ground was nothing more than an ordinary market outside the capital.

Noon on the third day.

The forest ahead gradually thinned out, revealing a continuous, steep, black mountain range that stretched out before the army.

The mountains are shrouded in a thick white spiritual mist all year round.

Even from several miles away, the soldiers could clearly feel a spiritual energy of heaven and earth several times stronger than that on the coast, which was coming towards them on the mountain breeze.

"General, Wolong Ridge is just ahead."

The vanguard commander galloped to the central army, clasped his hands in greeting, and loudly reported the news.

Wang Shouren rode a tall warhorse and reined in the horse.

His deep eyes coldly stared at the black cliff in front of him, which resembled a giant dragon coiled up.

The mountains and forests were unusually quiet.

There were no birdsongs to be heard, nor any trace of ordinary beasts to be seen. The entire Wolong Ridge exuded a chilling stillness and oppressive atmosphere.

"Order the entire army to halt their advance and form ranks on the spot!"

Wang Shouren's voice was as steady as a mountain, instantly reaching all the camps.

The 50,000-strong army, like a sophisticated machine, halted its advance the instant the command was given.

The pikemen formed a hedgehog-like circle on the outer perimeter, while the musketeers were divided into three sections, taking turns to take their positions behind the circle.

"Artillery battalion, advance! Construct positions!"

As the command flag was waved.

Hundreds of tiger-squatting cannons were quickly carried by engineers to the high ground in front.

The ten heavy Thunderfire Rune Cannons, pulled by pack oxen, were also struggling to line up in front of the battle.

The craftsmen wielded their hammers, driving thick steel spikes deep into the soil to secure the wheel hubs of the cannon, preventing the terrifying recoil from overturning it when it was fired.

The oppressive atmosphere in the air gradually reached its peak as the cannons were positioned.

Shen You stood on one side of the cannon array, holding a compass in his hand, carefully checking the direction of the cannon muzzles and the operation of the array patterns, his forehead covered with fine beads of sweat.

Everything is ready.

The army stood ready in full battle array. In the silent formation, only the occasional snorting of warhorses and the fluttering of banners in the wind could be heard.

In the supply camp at the rear, the merchants and their workers held their breath, hiding behind the mule carts, nervously peering at the high ground ahead.

Li Changqing was still sitting in that dilapidated mule cart.

He placed the wolf-hair brush on the inkstone, closed the ledger filled with records of various supplies, and casually put it beside him.

A gentle breeze blew by, lifting the hem of his long blue cloth robe.

He raised his head, his eyes, like those of an ancient well, gazing quietly at the misty mountainside of Wolong Ridge, several miles away.

There, he found the pack of demon wolves he had seen a few days earlier, and the ancient cave hidden deep within the spiritual vein.

"Such disciplined military bearing, such firearms used regardless of cost. The Ming Dynasty, like a tiger unleashed from its cage, is finally about to bare its fangs on this new continent."

Li Changqing picked up the water bag, tilted his head back and took a sip of water. His expression showed no sign of tension, only the leisure and composure unique to an onlooker.

On the artillery position ahead, a captain in charge of carrying the flag raised the red flag high, his eyes fixed on the direction of the central army.

Wang Shouren sat upright on his horse, his face as cold and stern as iron, and slowly raised his right hand.

The mist deep in the mountains seemed to freeze at this moment.

Li Changqing plugged the water bag and hung it back on the cart shaft.

All the sounds around seemed to be laying the final groundwork for the impending thunderous fury.

There were no impassioned speeches before the battle, nor any superfluous actions.

Wang Shouren's raised right hand suddenly swung downwards in mid-air.

"ignition!"

The artillery captain roared hoarsely.

Dozens of gunners simultaneously pressed their burning matchlocks onto the fuses of the cannons.

……

The autumn wind at the foot of Wolong Ridge seemed to freeze for a moment.

The sparks burning on the fuse made a slight hissing sound as they traveled rapidly along the propellant line into the depths of the cannon barrel.

These few short moments felt incredibly long to everyone.

The soldiers of the vanguard battalion gripped their spears tightly, their breathing heavy.

His gaze remained fixed on the black cliff shrouded in thick fog in front of him.

"boom……!!!"

With the first earth-shattering roar, the entire world seemed to tremble violently.

The ten "Thunderfire Rune Cannons," on which the craftsmen had placed high hopes, simultaneously spewed out orange-red flames that were over ten feet long.

The violent recoil was transmitted to the ground through the heavy steel gun carriage, to the ground spikes made of fine steel, driven deep into the soil.

It forcefully plowed several deep furrows several feet into the ground.

The pack oxen responsible for pulling the gun carriage were startled and let out uneasy mooings, which were then firmly held down by the gunners.

Ten heavy cannonballs mixed with spirit stone powder and refined iron, their surfaces engraved with armor-piercing and crack patterns.

With a piercing shriek that seemed to tear the sky apart, it transformed into ten blinding fireballs, crashing heavily onto the mountainside of Wolong Ridge, several miles away.

The dense, spiritual mist that perpetually lingers around the mountainside.

Under such violent physical impact and the tearing of the formation, it was ripped apart in an instant, like a tattered cloth.

Immediately afterwards, a series of deafening explosions resounded across the mountainside.

The massive black boulders, weighing hundreds of thousands of kilograms, were shattered by the terrifying power contained in the shells.

The sky was filled with rubble, mud, and broken ancient trees, like a torrential downpour rolling down the steep hillside.

Amidst the earth-shaking tremors, the entire Wolong Ridge seemed to let out a painful lament.

"Load! Put more in!"

The artillery captain's voice had already split during his earlier roar.

But he continued to wave the red flag in his hand, his eyes filled with fanatical fighting spirit.

The gunners skillfully cleaned the breech with wet mops, then quickly filled it with pre-loaded gunpowder packs and new rune shells.

In just a dozen or so breaths, the second round of earth-shattering salvo erupted once again.

Under such a relentless saturation bombardment, the mountainside of Wolong Ridge was literally stripped bare.

And deep within the billowing dust and rubble, a series of fierce and frenzied roars of beasts finally broke out, unable to be contained any longer.

"Be on guard! The beast tide is coming down the mountain!"

The captain of the vanguard battalion drew his sword and issued a stern warning.

Through the gradually dissipating smoke, a dark blue wave suddenly surged out from the dark brown forest.

Those were hundreds and thousands of enormous demon wolves, along with spotted giant leopards and armored wild boars mixed among them.

These ferocious beasts, which have long roamed near the spiritual veins and live by absorbing the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, usually fight individually, but now they are completely enraged by the earth-shattering cannon fire.

They coalesced into a raging tide of beasts, their eyes red, and charged down the hillside toward the Ming army's formation.

Their hooves flew as they trod on the gravel, making a dull, thunderous sound.

The intense, pungent smell and bloodthirsty killing intent that gathered together were enough to terrify any army that had never fought a battle.

However, the soldiers of the Ming Dynasty did not retreat an inch; instead, their eyes blazed with an even more intense light.

This isn't some man-eating beast; it's clearly piles of silver, military merits for advancing your cultivation techniques!

Wang Shouren sat upright on horseback, his face as cold and stern as iron.

He watched the beast tide surge down like a black torrent and slowly raised his right hand.

"Pikemen, hold your ground! Musketeers, triple volley, fire!"

With a sudden waving of the command flag.

The first row of Shenji Battalion musketeers standing at the rear of the circular formation leveled their new-style muskets, engraved with the Wind Spirit Rune, and decisively pulled the triggers.