Massive numbers of rune bombs, countless talismans, densely packed rune war arrows—each time these appeared, they dealt devastating damage. From the perspective of the other races, a significant portion of the human race's combat power lay in these war machines. Without them, the humans' strength would drastically diminish, no longer as terrifying as before. Dealing with them would become much easier.
This very fact is what makes many races wary of Xuanhuang City.
Whenever they faced these war machines, launching an assault meant taking huge losses. Whether or not they could capture Xuanhuang City in the end, they themselves would suffer crippling injuries. In this chaotic world, any major damage to a race could easily spell extinction, with their tribes left vulnerable to countless threats.
The consequences were simply too severe.
That's why most other races did not dare act rashly against Xuanhuang City. Because the city possessed the terrifying ability to drag its enemies down with it—even at the cost of mutual destruction.
This unspoken fear kept everyone in check. If they did act, it was only through backhanded, underhanded tactics. But even those failed to shake the city's foundations and were swiftly suppressed—only resulting in a horde of strawmen appearing.
Now, strawmen could be found across a vast 10,000-mile radius around Xuanhuang City. In every village, settlement, or town, there were strawmen. With their protection, even small communities that couldn't venture deep into the wild could now clear land nearby, farm it, and depend on strawmen to guard their crops and fields.
This further cemented the people's unwavering loyalty to Xuanhuang City. Everyone knew clearly that these transformations were all thanks to it. The region surrounding the city was filled with a people's devotion and support.
And to other races, these strawmen were yet another grave threat.
News of the strawman army extinguishing a million-strong rat horde had long since spread, causing a storm of discussion.
Their fear of Xuanhuang City only deepened.
"Elder Hu, what do you think?"
Behemoth King Meng Wudi turned to look at a seated old foxkin. This was the Grand Elder of the Foxkin Race, long known for their cunning and intelligence. Among all the major races, the foxkin often served as advisors and strategists.
To rise to the rank of Grand Elder, one naturally had to be supremely wise.
The older a fox, the more cunning it becomes—this was no empty saying.
"King Behemoth, my foxkin are physically weak and cannot contribute much on the battlefield. If war is to break out, I'm afraid we cannot engage in direct combat. However, we can manage logistics and offer strategies."
The Grand Elder's eyes flashed with shrewdness as he nodded respectfully.
With King Behemoth personally initiating the call to arms, the foxkin—being part of the greater beastkin alliance—could not remain uninvolved. After all, the Golden Behemoth bloodline was royalty among beastkin, held in the highest regard. Ignoring a war summons from them would certainly offend the Behemoth Clan, making it difficult for the foxkin to survive within the beastkin ranks.
Such self-sabotage was something the elder would never allow.
Still, he had no desire to make an enemy of the human race.
With his wisdom, how could he not see that the humans were developing at a frightening pace? Their depth and foundation were being revealed layer by layer. Given time, they would grow into a behemoth. Confronting them head-on would be foolish.
Thus, he chose a middle path: not joining the frontline, but not abandoning the beastkin alliance either. By offering strategic support and managing logistics, he could walk a fine line between both sides.
A temporary but clever compromise.
"I've heard your foxkin have dealings with the humans. But in this war, if anyone leaks information, don't blame this king for being merciless."
King Behemoth cast a deep glance at the foxkin elder, his voice sharp with warning.
He was no fool. Some things, once suspected, were easy to confirm.
Back during the insect disaster, the foxkin had already shown signs of aligning with the humans.
Still, he could not allow betrayal during war.
"Indeed, the humans are skilled in crafting and clever tricks. However, this concerns the fate of our race. We must not allow them to continue growing unchecked. Don't forget—many of the human race's top powers are still sealed. Their immortal sects are suppressed. Once those seals are broken, their strength will surge."
A Kobold chieftain shouted loudly.
The greatest threat of the human race lay in their reproductive power. Given a stable environment, no matter how many you killed—ten thousand, a hundred thousand—they'd replenish their numbers in no time, often with even more. And once the immortal sects returned and their elites started spreading teachings among the mortals, the humans' strength would skyrocket.
The abduction of Behemoth King's son was just the trigger for this war.
Even without that event, the other races would never allow Xuanhuang City to fully rise. War was inevitable. This incident simply brought it forward—and dragged the Behemoths into the center of it.
"Hmph! Not only will the one who took my son die, but Xuanhuang City itself must be destroyed! They dared kidnap my son Wuming and leave behind the mark of Xuanhuang City in the palace? Whether it's a frame-up or not—humanity must perish!"
King Behemoth slammed the armrest of his throne, a cruel sneer on his face.
His son Wuming had been taken, and the enemy had brazenly left the symbol of Xuanhuang City behind. No matter how you looked at it, it reeked of a setup. But even if it was a trick, the message left behind said the only way to find his son was to go to Xuanhuang City.
Regardless of the truth—Xuanhuang City must be destroyed.
Humanity must die.
There was no turning back now.
"Very well. Today, I, Meng Wudi, officially issue a call to arms! The Hundred Races will rally and form a united Beastkin Alliance Army. We march on Xuanhuang City! Now—report your troop counts!"
King Behemoth issued the declaration.
"The Wolfkin will send 200,000 troops. Total mobilization: 3 million wolf soldiers!"
The Wolfkin leader stood and declared.
"The Kobolds will send 2 million troops!"
shouted the Kobold chieftain, his voice resounding. The kobolds had a vast population and sending two million was no strain. They could easily field more if needed.
"The Foxkin will send 10,000 personnel to manage logistics. We will donate 30% of our food stores to the war."
the Foxkin Grand Elder added. As the saying goes, Before soldiers march, provisions must be secured. Food could determine the outcome of a war.
"The Jackal-Werewolves will send 300,000."
another chieftain declared.
…
This troop declaration determined the size of each tribe's contribution. Once numbers were given, they could only send more, not less—or the consequences would be dire.
Thus, the army's total strength was quickly calculated.
With the Behemoth Clan taking the lead, many races that feared humanity committed their elite forces, sending nearly all their available troops—without compromising their core stability. It was clear: this alliance army would be unprecedented in scale and destructive power.
King Behemoth, hearing the declarations echo across the hall, nodded in satisfaction.
Soon, they would have a force capable of crushing anything in its path.
Elsewhere…
While King Behemoth was assembling his army in Golden City, Xuanhuang City had already completed its Iron-Blood Great Wall.
This majestic structure now stretched endlessly in all directions, extending over vast territory and enclosing countless allied villages and towns under its protection. Though not a full fortress wall encircling everything, the massive wall was enough to block invaders and intimidate ferocious beasts and birds.
Within its boundaries, wild threats had dramatically decreased. Its deterrent power was clear. Once its value was known, people even began offering the bones of slain enemy races, and the remains of fallen warriors, to be buried inside the wall. These sacrifices helped the Iron-Blood Great Wall grow daily.
It now spanned hundreds of miles, encompassing an immense region—and it was still expanding.
To support it, a ten-thousand-strong garrison was stationed atop the wall, rotating regularly. Almost every soldier in Xuanhuang City had taken their turn patrolling this wall.
As the wall expanded, so too would its army.
Nightfall.
On patrol, the soldiers on the wall kept their eyes sharp, scanning the surroundings.
Suddenly, a chilling voice pierced the darkness.
"A gift—for your Xuanhuang City."
"Who's there?!"
A soldier shouted, but before he could react, a giant figure hurtled through the night and crashed onto the Iron-Blood Great Wall.
"What the hell is that?!"
someone gasped in confusion.
BANG!!
Before they could understand what was happening, the figure slammed down, nailed to the wall by a massive spear.
Looking closer—it was a terrifyingly fierce Golden Behemoth, not very large, barely over three meters tall. But its golden fur radiated a royal bloodline's prestige.
Now, it was skewered, pinned to the wall, wailing in agony.
Its golden blood dripped down—immediately absorbed and devoured by the Iron-Blood Great Wall.