Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence Chapter 675 - 387: Steam Tank (2)

Lambert drew in a deep breath before grasping the custom-forged two-handed sledgehammer.

Light red Extraordinary Fighting Energy cloaked the hammer's head like blazing flames, warping the nearby air from its intense density.

"Break!"

With a powerful swing, Lambert thrust the hammer ahead.

"Boom——!!!"

A thunderous explosion reverberated through the sealed chamber, jolting the twenty-ton vehicle chassis sharply backward from the force.

Piercing alarms blared from the vehicle's interior.

Hamilton dashed forward like he'd been burned, inspecting the armor fissures while yelling to the driver within, "Report structural integrity! Did the main beam break?"

"The main beam is intact! Only the exterior armor is deformed!" The apprentice inside replied with a shaky but thrilled voice.

Dust finally cleared.

The vehicle's front plating held without breach. However, right at the impact spot stood a horrifying dent as big as a face basin, sinking half a foot deep.

Hamilton exhaled deeply, whirled around, and bellowed excitedly at Louis, "It held up! Sir! The structure is intact!"

Lambert lowered the sledgehammer, his face darkening as he eyed the indentation.

"I used all my strength." Lambert pivoted to confront the stunned knights, "A full-power strike only made a dent. It will probably take another to break through."

Gray's throat turned parched.

Not even an Extraordinary Knight could shatter it in one blow?

"That’s enough." Louis' voice sliced through everyone's reverie, "Next test."

Hamilton bellowed at the workers right away, "Increase pressure! Open the valves to maximum! Let this beast roar!"

High-energy coal got shoveled into the furnace, sending a dense column of black smoke billowing from the rear exhaust pipe.

"Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!"

Like the guttural growl of a lion-voiced monster.

Treads started churning, hurling mud everywhere. Not quicker than a warhorse, yet its sheer presence struck terror.

Then it barreled into the cheval de frise line built to block cavalry.

"Crack, crack."

Those pointed wooden stakes that harried knights crumbled like brittle snacks against the plow and tracks.

No slowdown for the vehicle—it plowed straight through, plunged into the muddy ditch, then clambered out amid the engine's fury.

"It’s too clumsy." Gray clenched his teeth in final defiance, "As long as I don’t collide with it, and keep moving, its main cannon is fixed; it won’t hit me!"

Louis cast a chilly glance his way before speaking coldly:

"Hamilton, load the iron shot. Sweep a hundred and twenty degrees ahead."

The vehicle ceased rotating.

The stubby, thick, rough-looking cast-iron gun barrel tilted upward slightly.

A sharp "click" sounded as the driver yanked the massive loading lever, ramming a sealed iron canister stuffed with lead pellets, scrap iron, and flint oil into the tube.

Like a steel predator snapping its fangs, the locking mechanism engaged with a clang.

"Fire."

No trace of a shot's path appeared.

In that instant, all felt their eardrums pulse violently, as though copper gongs had been bashed inside their skulls.

"Boom——!!!"

From the cannon mouth erupted an orange-red tempest, roaring with flames.

Hundreds of thumb-sized lead pellets blended with jagged iron bits instantly wove a deathly mesh, driven mad by alchemical gunpowder's surge.

A veritable metal hurricane.

Fifty meters out, rope-tugged iron dummies mimicking a cavalry rush got fully engulfed by the metal gale.

All at once, they lost all form.

Zero blind spots, zero openings.

Ground torn ragged, soil flung up half a foot high.

The iron dummies—their chest armor punctured, limbs ripped away, mangled fragments clattering down into the smoky muck.

The test stone wall at the field's edge riddled with holes, debris spraying wildly.

Silence gripped the entire area.

Gray stood rooted, face drained white as sheet.

Lips quivering faintly, he clutched his chest on instinct, bracing as if the hot blast would shred him next.

Dodges he'd plotted mentally, riding prowess he boasted—all turned ridiculous before this metal web's raw power.

No predicting needed. No targeting required.

A mere fly would pulp in that kill zone.

Lambert's mouth twitched. With Extraordinary Knight senses, his sharp eyes tracked those lead shots better; their velocity left no afterimage.

Even unprotected in that range...

Lambert shut his eyes; an image flared: tank lines pressing forward, vomiting endless lead-and-fire barrages, his knightly order felled like scythed wheat.

No noble clashes, just factory-forged carnage.

This machine robbed knights of their lifesaving battlefield room.

But no pause; Louis denied them recovery time, ordering promptly, "Continue to the next item."

"Fourth round of testing, the siege breaker." Hamilton waved toward the vehicle.

The driver hauled the control lever, making the vehicle quake hard on site.

Thicker black smoke poured from the tail exhaust, building force for a greater assault.

The barrel swung open, ejecting the hot iron shot canister that sizzled upon hitting the mud.