The buzzing of the clockwork artillery tore through the morning mist, making people's ears ache.

December in Black Snake Bay remains as warm as spring, yet swarms of flies and mosquitoes surge like a black fog.

Holding a cup of coffee, sitting on the artillery position, Dass spread out a newspaper, eating breakfast while overseeing the battle.

After almost a year of combat and military farming, he was nearly acclimated to the environment here.

A water snake darted past his feet, a jungle python hung on the branches, yet Dass was composed, even reading the newspaper from a month ago.

"...The Ogre Warlord Cancun Crispbone, leading his legion, arrived beneath the Holy Seat City, demanding the Pope allocate funds for the expedition..."

"...According to insiders, the Puliano Pope is actively fundraising while sending professional negotiators to converse with Cancun..."

"...During this time, the Royal Court's legion looted extensively beneath the city walls, causing numerous paper and printing workshops to shut down..."

Dass handed the newspaper in his hand to the Senior Pastor Modie beside him: "Take a look."

Just as Horn had said, if you want amusement, go check the battle reports on the Battle of the Windmill Ground.

The uninvited Royal Court reinforcements, upon arrival, immediately demanded military pay from the allied forces.

As for the Pope, surprisingly, he was borrowing everywhere, raising military pay for the heathen reinforcements to help fight against fellow believers.

The overly dramatic scene left Modie at a loss for words.

But as a former monk, though he hated that Puliano Pope immensely, he couldn't help but sigh at this moment.

The Imperial Church had a glorious history, but now it was at its demise.

Setting aside his emotions, Modie picked up his binoculars and gazed at the city walls of the Beastman city-state not far away.

Under the black scarlet flag of the Black Champion Army, War Monks of the Divine Punishment Army clad in thin coats (to fend off mosquitoes) raised their holy muskets.

With each volley, heaps of Beastman Spear Warriors fell, their obsidian spears brittle as dry branches under the fusillade of clockwork muskets.

The clay along the riverbank was trampled by military boots into a brown-red swamp, and rows of Holy Alliance Army advanced, each step dragging severed limbs and tattered rattan armor.

The heat carried with it the acrid sweetness of white smoke, spices, and blood, scorching the soldiers' nasal passages.

Black Snake Bay Beastman scimitar warriors charged with bent backs through the forest, tearing through the damp vines, launching an assault from the flank.

But they had barely moved a few meters when several time bombs fell; after the nearly invisible shockwave, the war cries of over a hundred warriors abruptly ceased.

The next second, the head of a scimitar warrior was blown off by a lead bullet, crashing into a banyan tree entangled with parasitic orchids, brain matter winding like a white snake within the tree bark.

"Holy Thunder!"

Pulled the trigger rope, the lead swept across the front line, striking the Beastman and Snake-man soldiers clad only in rattan armor.

When the last batch of Spear Warriors was felled by clockwork artillery, they finally lost the will to attack and fled into the rainforest.

"That should suffice." Dass stood up, judging from previous combat experience, it was now time for them to surrender.

Modie stood up as well: "Previous city-states flaunted themselves, yet they ended up just like this."

Gazing at the towering pyramid within the city, Dass took out a map, made a comparison, and spoke: "We need to hurry—aim to clear the entire Musang River Basin before the rainy season arrives."

"This Eastern County of Black Snake Bay is excessively large." Modie wiped the water stains off the parchment map with his sleeve, "If it weren't for the navigable ships, it would take us half a year to get here."

In this era, people actually had little accurate quantitative concept of territorial area, only conceptual perception.

For instance, Louise previously claimed that Black Snake Bay was twice the size of the Thousand River Valley.

However, in fact, after four years of surveying, the Northern County spans 180,000 square kilometers, the Central County 120,000 square kilometers, and the Southern County 140,000 square kilometers.

As for the Eastern County, it's even more boundless, impossible to estimate, nominally belonging to Black Snake Bay.

Controlled by the Church, the Western County, though most prosperous, only covers a mere 40,000 square kilometers, just a fraction of the Southern County.

Southward from the Southern County, the moist Green Dragon Forest Sea cradles Black Snake Bay, leaving only one exit: the Clove Corridor.

Further south, beyond the Green Dragon Forest Sea, lies Gryphon Cape, composed of sparse savannas and intermittent rivers.

Along the coastal areas of Gryphon Cape, amidst clusters of rocky beach cliffs, stands a series of colonies, large and small.

Each is notable for its gryphons, tobacco, ivory, pearls, and the Snake-men and Beastman Blood Slaves sent to the Blood and Flesh Royal Court.

Faced with this geographical situation, Horn posed a crucial question: "Which is larger, Gryphon Cape or the Holy Alliance? Is there a land route connecting them?"

Gryphon Cape, a geographic term seemingly on par with the Thousand River Valley in status, yet its area surpasses even that of Black Snake Bay.

Under normal circumstances, there is only one way through the Clove Corridor, heading south from Griffin Horn during the navigable season or going by sea.

Is it possible to bypass the territory of the Falan people and reach Griffin Horn directly?

The scholars of Holy Machinery Court University told Horn, "Yes, Your Grace, it is possible."

Griffin Horn itself is traversed by numerous rivers originating from Black Snake Bay and Green Dragon Forest Sea, but most are intermittent rivers.

Intermittent rivers are those that only flow during the rainy season, with their riverbeds remaining dry at other times.

After selection, the scholars identified the only river capable of large-scale navigation to the Griffin Horn Frontier.

That would be the Musang River.

Located in the Eastern County, the Musang River.

After three years of effort and immigration, with new towns and docks built in the Eastern County, Dass began the Musang River offensive in the autumn of 1453.

The reason for not advancing earlier was precisely because it was the rainy season before, making advancement impossible.

Fortunately, the clockwork artillery was unaffected by the moist air, while powder weapons would see a significant drop in combat effectiveness.

Luckily, the Beastman and Snake-man groups in the Eastern County had remarkably poor combat effectiveness.

"The next stop should be this Nambola State, said to be the largest city-state in the Musang River Basin."

While discussing, Modie coughed and, pressed by a group of war monks, seven or eight Beastman city-state nobles approached the two.

The elderly Half-Beastwoman Matriarch, staggering, held the hand of a child, her expression sorrowful.

She wore a dress made from leopard skin, with gold earrings adorning her four ears, and dangling jade ear chains.

Bringing the child before the two, the old matriarch knelt suddenly, raising the ebony scepter above her head.

"Great exotic rulers, your might we have witnessed. In the presence of the terrifying god, we ask you to take the scepter of Kaba Kulu State and become the new ruler."

"No." Senior Pastor Modie started speaking awkwardly in Beastman language, "We are not rulers, but rather people bringing you the seeds of civilization."

Seeds? Could it be they want to slaughter and burn towns?

The faces of several Beastman nobles changed immediately. These god-like armies had suddenly appeared and swept across the thirteen city-states on both sides of the Musang River in just three months.

Even though they didn't know where they came from, by custom, they should accept surrender.

They hadn't committed any unforgivable acts, why would they depopulate the city?

"Hariba!" Dass shouted behind him.

From the royal family in Daze Village, one Beastman walked out among a dozen Beastmen.

Several surrendered Beastman nobles curiously raised their heads, looking at this fellow in clothes similar to humans.

Speaking Beastman with a Norn accent, the famous general Hariba from the Carthage Kingdom puffed out his chest: "Hear my name, Hariba Carthage, Uncle to the King of the Saintly Union Carthage Kingdom, First Captain of the Guard in the Royal Court, Marshal, Dispersal Captain under the Saintly Union Brother Huo!

This will be the name of the future Governor of Kaba Kulu State."

The old Matriarch glanced at the Senior Pastor beside her, relaxing only when he remained silent.

Looking at the fine fabric on that person and the fierce god tattoos on his arms, including the old Matriarch, many city-state nobles felt at ease.

Not only of the same race but even of the same faith.

The Saintly Union seemed to be the name of these humans' country? Carthage Kingdom under the Saintly Union, akin to a vassal state.

So they had become a vassal state of a vassal state?

After seeking Dass' opinion with a glance, Hariba stepped forward, taking up the ebony scepter, and coughed: "How many people are there in Kaba Kulu State?"

"Within the city we have over twenty groups of a hundred people each, outside the city a hundred groups of a hundred people each."

"Do you know how many people we have here? Ten groups of a hundred people! Do you know why you lost to ten groups of a hundred people?"

The city-state nobles dared not speak, some wanting to refute, but after seeing Dass' cold gaze, they held back.

"Because you have believed wrongly, you have missed one of the terrifying gods, which is—"

Hariba turned, took off his vest, revealing his back, tattooed with the Lion-bodied Hogo Statue.

"The Terrifying Hogo Trinity is the true faith! From today, Kaba Kulu State's faith will change to the Terrifying Hogo Trinity!"