Chapter 143: War

"General, the Mongols are retreating!" a soldier holding a rifle exclaimed excitedly to Guo Jing.

The others turned their gazes toward him as well.

"So even the Mongols know how to be afraid!" a dark-faced man remarked.

"Should we press our advantage and pursue them?" another asked.

"We still have many ultimate weapons we haven't even brought out!" said a robust man carrying a large box containing a shoulder-fired rocket launcher.

These were veteran soldiers skilled in martial arts, forming the first generation of modernized troops cultivated by Guo Jing.

Most of them had fought the Mongols before, but they had never experienced such a satisfying battle.

"There's no rush!" Guo Jing lowered his binoculars and shook his head gently.

To test the terrifying power of the Xenomorphs, he had personally visited the alien spacecraft.

If not for his quick reflexes and Wolverine pulling him out in time, he feared he might have been parasitized by those monsters himself.

Through his binoculars, he had seen clearly that Möngke had been attacked by a facehugger.

If nothing unexpected happened...

Half a quarter of an hour later.

"Notify the others, bring out the horses, prepare for battle!" Guo Jing commanded.

Immediately, a signalman took out a walkie-talkie to instruct the remaining personnel inside to come out.

The city gates swung open instantly, and the remaining "new recruits" marched out.

Altogether, exactly one thousand men.

These were all the modernized soldiers Guo Jing had trained.

Most were veterans with battlefield experience, some were martial arts heroes from the pugilistic world, and a few were scholars who had traded their writing brushes for swords.

Riding on horseback, holding the reins with one hand and an assault rifle with the other, clad in matching camouflage uniforms, their momentum reached the heavens.

Sensing that a major battle was imminent, far from being afraid, everyone was eager for a go.

Having witnessed Guo Jing's miraculous methods, they were his most steadfast supporters.

In their hearts, Guo Jing was a genuine deity descended to the mortal realm.

The heavenly weapons of warfare he brought with him could not be fended off by ordinary people, let alone top-tier martial artists.

They were executing divine punishment!

Even when facing a Mongol force hundreds of times their own number, they felt not a shred of fear.

***

Inside the Mongol military camp.

Möngke sat imposingly in his chair.

A military physician was carefully applying medicinal ointment to his face.

"That doesn't look like scratches; it looks more like knife wounds," the physician thought to himself, but he dared not speak.

Many of the wounds were deep, and every time the ointment was applied, Möngke's body would tremble, emitting a low groan.

The physician felt a bit apprehensive.

Möngke was not an easy master to serve, especially for Han Chinese who had surrendered to the Mongols.

Don't look at how tough the man acted on the surface; if he reached his breaking point, people would lose their heads!

Everyone else inside the large tent kept their heads lowered, wishing they could master invisibility.

Yet today, Möngke's temper seemed unusually good; despite his gloomy expression, he did not utter a single complaint.

At this moment, Möngke had no mind to care about such trifles.

The fluttering sensation in his chest was occurring with increasing frequency, occasionally accompanied by sharp, twisting cramps.

"I am the king of the Mongol grasslands, the master of all under heaven; I will never be defeated!" he cheered himself on.

Just as he straightened his spine, a sudden, piercing pain struck his chest.

The agony came so fast and so fiercely that he could no longer endure it; his clenched teeth parted, and a miserable scream escaped his lips.

Startled, the physician's hand jerked, accidentally shoving the lump of medicinal ointment straight into Möngke's open mouth.

"Great Khan!"

"Is the Great Khan alright?"

"Protect the Great Khan!"

Möngke wanted to maintain his majesty, but at this point, he could no longer hold it together.

The heart-wrenching pain in his chest clouded his consciousness, wringing involuntary screams from his throat.

"The Great Khan's chest!" someone suddenly cried out, pointing at Möngke's torso.

"What is that thing!" a Mongol general retreated in terror, stumbling back two steps.

Beneath the heavy armor, something was visibly writhing.

Crimson blood seeped through the gaps in the armor.

The physician stood frozen in place, his hands trembling instinctively as he forced the rest of the ointment deeper into Möngke's agape mouth, distorting his screams into muffled gurgles.

Before he could react, Möngke violently lowered his head and coughed up a mouthful of blood.

Everyone was panic-stricken, clueless about what to do.

They watched in horror as a fleshy creature burst through Möngke's chest armor and wriggled out.

The small creature glanced at the crowd, let out a piercing screech, and bolted away at high speed.

Not a single person attempted to capture the creature.

They were completely paralyzed by the horrifying scene before them.

What on earth had the Great Khan eaten for such a creature to burst out of his body?

Could it be that the face-hugging monster from earlier had laid its offspring inside the Great Khan's body?

Could this creature be the continuation of the Great Khan's bloodline?

"Great Khan!" After a long while, a loyal guard finally lunged forward.

The others followed suit, tightly surrounding Möngke, who lay flat on his back.

The physician stood soul-sundered, muttering to himself, "It's over, it's all over!"

"I'll kill you, you quack!" A Mongol general drew his scimitar and slashed across the physician's neck.

The physician shrieked, his body tilting sideways as he crashed to the ground.

"What do we do?" someone asked.

"This matter must not be leaked..." Before the Mongol general could finish, he heard deafening battle cries erupting outside.

The explosions were thunderous, human screams mingled with the neighing of war horses, punctuated by chilling chants of: "Möngke is dead! Surrender now!"

The men exchanged glances, their complexions turning ashen.

Before they could rush out, several figures burst into the tent.

"The Great Khan!"

"You killed the Great Khan!"

Seeing Möngke lying lifeless on the ground, the incoming soldiers drew their sabers.

Outside the tent, Guo Jing tossed high-powered loudspeakers onto the ground, letting them automatically broadcast the message, "Möngke is dead! Surrender now!" while he gripped an assault rifle with one hand and opened fire on the Mongol soldiers.

The rest of the troops moved in unison with him.

Like ravenous wolves descending upon a flock of sheep, their assault rifles spat streams of lethal flame, striking terror into the hearts of the notoriously brave Mongol soldiers.

As they swapped ammunition magazines, they casually tossed out grenades, shattering the forming ranks of Mongol cavalry and sending horses and riders flying.

Möngke was dead.

The high-ranking Mongol generals were locked in internal power struggles.

With no leader to guide them, even seasoned veterans could think of nothing but escape.

Many panicked soldiers blindly leaped into the moat or the Han River, drowning instantly.

Guo Jing felt a wave of exhilaration.

This was the first true battle for his new recruits.

The harvest of victory was bountiful.

Meanwhile, Guo Jing had already slipped away to the rear of the military camp, where a few precise shots shattered the chains binding a Xenomorph Queen.

Regaining her freedom, the Queen let out a deafening screech and charged into the Mongol army.

Many Mongols who had previously been attacked by facehuggers began vomiting blood one after another as Xenomorph chestbursters erupted from their torsos.

The battle raged on for a long time.

A few surviving Mongol generals attempted to organize a counterattack.

Yet they gradually realized that the creatures emerging from the bodies of their fallen comrades grew at an astonishing rate, transforming in a short time into towering, iron-clad monsters roughly the same height as humans.

These beasts fought without fear of death, moving with terrifying agility and claiming lives effortlessly.

The war had turned into a one-sided massacre!