Terra Tinkers Construct is fine.

Several people felt a buzzing in their heads.

He couldn't understand why the Yeti dared to leave the camp's defenses and attack their camp instead.

They couldn't understand it either: the officers had anticipated the Yeti's actions, such as holding their ground in fortifications or trying to escape, but they never expected it to do it this way—sending out weapons resembling shield guards to charge at them.

Did those infected people get stones growing into their brains and become stupid?

--wrong!

He suddenly realized: if the infected hadn't become stupid because the stone had grown into their brains... then it meant that there definitely wasn't just one stone monster attacking!

"Activate the lights! Start the Originium lamps and the Originium Arts that illuminate them! There can't be just one enemy!"

—The commander is here.

Milan's rampaging figure paused.

He did indeed carry a round shield in his left hand and a stone axe in his right, but these two pieces of equipment were completely unnecessary at this moment; the rocks formed his armor, and all he had to do was charge, charge, and charge endlessly through the camp like a dump truck—the terrifying kinetic energy from his weight would become his best weapon.

His mission was not to inflict casualties: his leading the charge made him the target of concentrated fire, which also meant that the Yeti squad behind the enemy lines were not affected by the hatred; under the protection of the Icebreakers who were only there as a safety net, the crossbowmen and sorcerers poured their anger into their shots, easily reaping the heads of the chaotic Ursus soldiers as if they were shooting targets.

Whenever someone seemed to shout as if trying to give orders, or as if trying to rally the troops and organize them, Milan would turn around and charge straight ahead; shields, human walls, or even bonfires and fortifications were meaningless, gun barrels, armor, and shields were all the same, they would just shatter into pieces with a creaking sound along with the bones.

The Yetis had a great time fighting.

Milan turned around—for a fleeting moment, the officer seemed to think he might have made eye contact with Milan beneath the gray helmet.

His voice suddenly turned terrifying.

"Stop him! Ballistae! Mages! Everything that can move... Quick!"

"Stop that monster!"

Chapter 21 - Victory (1/5)

Indeed, arrows were fired at Milan as ordered.

But most of those things only managed to leave white marks and sparks as they struck the rock armor, before bouncing off weakly. Only the arrows of some skilled archer, with greater force, were able to pierce the rocky surface of his plated armor...

Then it stagnates at a depth that cannot reach the base of the helmet, only rising on the surface, showing a kind of bizarre black humor like an exaggerated animation.

The Originium Crossbow is a relatively troublesome item.

Perhaps due to issues such as military spending, rationing, rank, or something else, the Ursus team had an extremely small number of mages, and their ranged firepower consisted mainly of crossbow bolts and Originium crossbow shells used by ballistae. This did cause Milan some trouble, since things that explode always tend to leave people covered in dust.

But it meant nothing to him.

During the brief rest and several attacks, Milan had figured out what his armor was like in reality: simply put, his armor was a kind of "material armor" based on its material. In other words, regardless of the mechanics provided by the MC values, in the understanding of the rules of this world, he was essentially charging around with a genuine stone shell on his back.

To inflict effective physical damage, you must first break through this stone shell.

Secondly, based on material armor, the [numerical] effect is: the most basic "armor value" in Minecraft provides the most unpretentious damage reduction. Originally, it was to give a limited "additive fixed percentage damage reduction", but in reality, it has evolved into "additive damage reduction with diminishing marginal returns".

The higher the armor value, the lower the damage reduction from the increased armor value per unit—so the higher the armor, the lower the damage reduction.

In other words, at least considering the kinetic energy hitting his shell, it must first pass through the "armor value's damage reduction," then the reduced power will damage the armor—and only after the durability is depleted and the equipment status changes to "damaged" can it be used to deal effective damage to him without being affected.

As for the defense... don't ask, the answer is a data-driven, seamless, closed-loop defense.

Only Milan himself can see the durability drop... To be honest, it's actually quite significant, which shows that rock armor is really only good for fun - after this match, it will probably need to be repaired or replaced.

From the outside, it was clear that even when crossbow bolts that could blast open craters, overturn fences, and blast stone walls apart exploded on Milan's body, his dusty stone armor, emerging from the smoke, showed not a single crack.

This caused the morale of the Ursus soldiers to plummet: if mortals could see gods bleed, they would be tempted to kill them; but if gods didn't show their health bars, mortals would be terrified even to guess.

"Monster, monster!"

"It's the Shield Guards! The Shield Guards are here!"

"Run!"

The morbid fanaticism that had just been stirred up by the officers vanished like dust in the face of this destructive charge that had no mechanism and was all about numbers; this was originally a group of defeated soldiers, in other words, the group that was the fastest to flee in the attack of the infected guerrillas, so how high could their discipline and morale be?

No matter how loudly the officer shouted, the soldiers blocking his way between him and Milan still couldn't help but drop their weapons, cry out, and scatter in all directions, wanting nothing more than to get away from the figure silently charging in the shadows of the night.

"Ouch... the spell damage still hurts a bit."

Milan caught his breath beneath his armor.

He wasn't too worried, and as he fulfilled his duty, the Yetis didn't disappoint him; they followed closely behind him, attacking the surrounding Ursus soldiers along the path he had cleared—occasionally, a sorcerer would pop up and use Originium Arts on Milan, unleashing Originium beams and light bullets, which Milan considered high-threat attacks along with Originium crossbow bolts.

Only such an attack deserves to be enjoyed by his shield-raising defense.

But such high-value targets often don't get a second chance to strike—not to mention he has a dedicated long-range firepower team behind him ready to deal with this situation, even Frostnova herself... is far from being the strongest mage on this land, but if you want to find her name, it's definitely faster to count from top to bottom.

—I'm a little hungry.

I don't know how Originium Arts is judged in Minecraft's rules, but the spell attack did penetrate Minecraft's clearly defined physical defenses and caused effective damage to Milan. However, Milan could see the red heart icon trembling and falling in the penetrating pain, and then immediately recovering as his satiety decreased.

So far, at least, the only effect these dense attacks have had on him is a surreal feeling of "not having eaten enough," and a body covered in arrow shafts that look like a comical, bald hedgehog.

But he had already reached his goal.

"Do not--!"

Milan ignored the spiritual resistance along the way and strode straight toward the officer whose gaze was fixed on him. Perhaps the Ursus warriors, his personal guards, unleashed a burst of power that met his head—surprisingly, they did manage to stop the twelve-ton Milan as he ran.

But it couldn't stop the unparalleled kinetic energy of a six-ton ​​hand axe when it was swung.

The officer's roaring commands eventually died out in fear. He watched Milan's approaching figure and shouted loudly. Milan raised his stone axe and swung it down. The small stone axe cast a shadow that blotted out the sky in his eyes.

"what--!"

The officer let out a scream.

Milan's axe struck thin air.

A moment of doubt arose in his mind, and he immediately raised his round shield to prepare for defense: Although he was somewhat prepared and knew that these guys weren't that strong, Originium Arts were a profound and complex thing, and it would be ridiculous to capsize in the gutter here...

"..."

The gloomy air seemed to distort for a moment—the officer's figure, who had been so close, suddenly vanished and reappeared in another direction not far away; on the other side, several figures were stealthily escaping, unaware of the gloomy environment for the time being.

—A concealed… displacement-type Originium Arts?

"Master Milan!"

"Master craftsman!"

After a brief pause, the Yetis caught up from behind; they neither wanted nor needed survivors. After precisely targeting high-value targets and routing the nearby routs, they kept close behind Milan, providing him with counter-suppression fire support.

They caught up at this moment, and the several Yeti warriors, on guard, quickly checked his condition; Frostnova did the same. After this battle, she seemed no longer so aloof, and her cold voice softened slightly as she asked, "How are you? Are you injured?"

"I'm fine, at least I should be able to finish this game without any major problems."

Milan checked the equipment's durability, shook his head, and quickly said, "The commander and some others escaped. I couldn't catch them because of Originium Arts. Should we continue the pursuit?"

"No, there's no need... and there's no need to gamble one last time."

Froststar gazed at him for a moment, then suddenly a faint smile appeared on her lips; her long ears twitched, and she looked up at the shadows in the distance, saying, "Our Shield Guards have arrived."

Chapter 22: The Infected Guerrilla Team

Milan raised her face.

To be honest, despite the impressive scale of the Yeti Squad's nighttime counter-attack, the actual damage and destruction they inflicted was not as significant as one might imagine, due to the limited number of damage-dealing units they had.

What truly led to the defeat of this force was Milan, who seemed unstoppable and like a runaway dump truck, and their repeated attempts to regroup and reorganize their ranks were futile. Whenever it seemed like there were sorcerers, heavy firepower, or groups of people banding together and someone giving orders, they were met with either Milan's massive charge or the Yeti's concentrated fire.

It's hard to say exactly how many enemies the Yetis can kill, but with Frostnova's buff, accurately eliminating these high-value targets is a piece of cake.

Thus, in the darkness of night with limited visibility, the entire defeated army, already in a state of post-traumatic stress and no different from bandits, suffered a collapse in morale and scattered in all directions after several attacks.

The Yeti squad certainly didn't have the ability to hunt down the monsters—but now, they no longer need to hunt them down.

Because the despair of the defeated soldiers did not last long.

"Boom, boom, boom..."

Even in the dim darkness, Milan felt for a moment that the scene "seemingly before his eyes" seemed to freeze: then he realized that it was not that reality had actually frozen, but rather that the only dynamic reference points, as if in response, all stiffened up as the sound quietly appeared and gradually grew louder.

“Thump, thump, thump… Zero-One Together (Five) Kick Private 8 Crow…”

It felt like the heartbeat of some giant beast, or like a heavy hammer shaking the earth—those who have recently experienced the deafening sound of firecrackers vibrating their eardrums and lungs might be more familiar with this feeling than Yilin Yinqi, Wujiu "Si^Jiu Ba; Milan squinted, following the relaxed expressions on Froststar and the Yetis's faces.

—Shield Guard...

He quickly found the figure that could be associated with the word—on the edge of the night, shadowy figures gradually appeared. Some of the fleeing soldiers screamed, some cursed, and some begged for mercy, but none of this stopped the shadows from gradually closing in, approaching, and silently covering them one by one.

The shadows formed a line, like a moving city wall.

"Shield Guard..."

Milan unconsciously repeated the name.

They were clad in heavy armor, their entire bodies covered from head to toe like fortresses. The massive tower shields could almost conceal the Icebreakers' entire bodies, but could not hide their even more robust figures.

Their steps were heavy and uniform, each footstep landing precisely, making the sound almost identical with each step. This was the source of that heavy, unusual noise. There are always some armies that can evoke the feeling of an "iron army" just by looking at them—an army where discipline is reflected in every detail, assembling everyone into a war machine, is clearly this type.

Besides the shield guards in front, Milan also saw other types of troops: more figures were flanking from other directions, including charging soldiers, tall warriors, and the occasional arrows and magical flashes that proved that there were also sorcerers among them.

They made no shouts or battle cries, but rather formed a tightly knit unit with the shield guards at its core, advancing in silence, creating a cold and austere scene.

The routed soldiers, mistaken for Shield Guards and scattered by the rolling stones, have now run into the real Shield Guards.

"They're guerrillas...the Shield Guards!"

"They're catching up! Run!"

"what--!"

Desperate screams rose and fell, but it was too late. The guerrillas, already mobilized, were like a finely crafted meat grinder, carrying out a brutal annihilation of the encirclement. Milan and the Yeti Squad watched the whole thing unfold. Someone had planted a torch, turning the area into a VIP audience area.

They no longer need to be chased.

The ravaged troops, having lost all their organization and morale in a short time, fled like headless flies, crying out, only to be constantly squeezed within the guerrillas' encirclement; the battle... or rather the mopping-up operation ended quickly, and when the last screams became faint, only a scene of devastation remained on the wasteland.

—This is a bit tough…

Milan habitually pursed her lips.

"Girls and boys! Are you all alright?"

While other parts of the battlefield were still dealing with the situation, a small squad led by shield guards approached. The Yeti's attire and members were easily identifiable by the torchlight. The guerrilla fighters approached familiarly, and the leading shield guard lifted his visor, revealing a weathered, unshaven face. His voice was hoarse but filled with concern as he asked, "What are you doing here...? Why are there so few of you? Where are the others?"

"Everyone else is in the camp; we are operating in small squads to carry out a tactical decapitation strike."

Froststar's voice was gentler than when Milan had seen her before. She stepped forward and said, "Uncle Ivan."

"Well, that's good."

The old shield guard nodded.

The Yetis greeted them cheerfully. Their group was already quite young, so this was like seeing long-lost relatives. The guerrillas also greeted the familiar Yetis. They didn't let their guard down and were clearly still on alert, which made the atmosphere more lively.

The Yetis were originally survivors rescued by the guerrillas from various hellish black mines and infected persecution facilities. Most of them were orphans who grew up under the care of the guerrillas. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that they were one family. When the Yeti squad was first established, it was once part of the infected guerrilla force and an auxiliary unit of the Shield Guards.

"Who is this?"

After a brief and warm exchange, Ivan quickly noticed Milan: among the group of white-haired yeti costumes, he was the only one wearing rock armor, making him stand out from the crowd.

But the old Shield Guard's attitude was neither questioning nor hostile.

It was obvious to anyone that Milan was a member of the Yeti combat unit in this formation—and they had seen it before they even appeared. The Yeti squad's brilliant raids on the enemy camp were at least 70% thanks to Milan, who was driving a dump truck in the enemy lines.

They themselves are the tanks, so it's impossible to tell who's doing the tank's job.

"This is Chef Milan!"

With Frostnova's nod of approval, a Yeti, whose name Milan couldn't remember due to its length (so he called him Xiong Er), cheerfully introduced, "This was delivered by that shady merchant Kannot when we were making deliveries. He's a very skilled craftsman! Thanks to him, many of our brothers and sisters in the camp weren't hurt by the sneak attack from those black dogs."

"He was at the very front just now."

"artisan?"

"what?"

The veterans exchanged glances, their expressions showing astonishment.

Chapter 23 Post-War Reconstruction

“No…huh?”

"artisan?"

The veterans exchanged glances, having considered many possibilities, but the one answer they hadn't expected was this.

—Are the requirements for craftsmen this high these days?