Zaun is forever in a kind of apocalyptic twilight. Pen, fun, and www.biquge.info

The skyline had long been obscured by the rising smoke of black and red, black from centuries of soot in the chimneys, and red from the blazing steel-making furnaces, the sound of rumbling machinery and movement converging into a monotonous and never-ending rhythm that could not be heard without shouting loudly.

The cylindrical factories rise one after another like castles, and the castles are connected by iron bridges suspended in the air, and now the slaves on the iron bridges are walking slowly.

It was windy high in the air, and the legs of the slaves were all connected by slender chains, so everyone moved with extreme care. There were already too many slaves who had fallen from the iron bridge this week, and the lives of these slaves were nothing more than a few numbers in the consumables column of the ledger for the managers of Zaun.

An old slave stopped. He looked at the distant skyline a little confused.

The black smoke was like the black sea, and the red fire was like the stars reflected in the sea.

The slave, however, seemed to see flashes of silver in addition to black and red.

However, he was not sure if it was a hallucination caused by his overwork, or if it was the old eyes that were already in his old age.

"Thirty-two, thirty-two!"

The warning sound of the icy machinery came from high in the sky.

A miniature airship hovers above the slave's head, and a small bronze horn is strapped underneath the airship. And now it was the little trumpet shouting at the slave.

The airship and the horn were controlled by the foreman of the overseer, and although they swayed in the wind of the sky, no one dared to disobey the sound. The slave knew that if he moved any slower, he might be hungry for the next few meals.

So the old slave, called "Thirty-two," took another staggering step and walked forward along the pull of the chain.

"This batch of goods is too bad, let's move the next batch forward."

In a closed underground factory, Mondo whispered to the foreman who came to deliver the goods.

"Yes...... Got it, my lord. ”

The foreman replied with a little cringe.

"Call me Doctor!" Mondo suddenly raised his voice.

"Yes! Doctor! My lord! The foreman was a little frightened, and the pen in his hand was written down in his notebook as fast as he could, and then he quickly ran away.

Green lights flicker inside the building. It's a factory, but it's more like a hospital-like laboratory. There was a mess of lab equipment everywhere, and blood was all over the ground...... and corpses on giant operating tables.

Mondo was dressed in a white coat, but underneath the coat was a bloodstained purple skin. His full muscles seemed to be ready to explode from under his coat at any moment. His purple hair stood on end and was unruly, and with his fierce eyes, everyone who saw him felt cold.

That sudden curse swept across the entire Valoran continent, but it ignored Zuan. Probably because these guys in Zaun are all strange people, like Singid and Tucci who live on potions and toxins, or like Victor himself is a mechanical monster, although they are the strongest kings, but they don't rely on runes, like Mondo himself, although he has fought countless battles in the past ten years, but the number of times he has worn runes to the arena is only a handful.

Mondo had heard of the turmoil on the continent, but he was more concerned about the quality of his goods - the corpses had decomposed a little too much by the time they arrived in the lab. He thought that in these turbulent times, it should be a simple matter to kidnap tourists and travelers in the wilderness.

Bang.

Mondo's massive body shook suddenly, and he barely stood still.

The lab shook twice, and dust fell from the ceiling, onto the delicate instruments, and onto the corpses with severed limbs.

"Damn it! I haven't run out of these things yet! Mondo struggled to his feet, and he strode towards the outermost part of the laboratory, which was so fast that the instruments in the laboratory shook again under the wind.

"Oh my little slave, what the hell is this?"

Mondo's mouth spat out a long-lost mantra, and he looked up at the sky, his hideous monster-like face extremely solemn.

The dusk sky turned black at the moment.

Or rather, the darkness obscured the dusk sky.

Night had not yet fallen, but black shadows began to rise from the distant sky like a curtain. And the majestic black like the sea and densely woven like a curtain is composed of one small black dot after another.

"Is it a locust?" Mondo still held his huge scalpel in his hand, and stared a little blankly at the shocking scene in the sky.

"That's the enemy! It's the battleship of Picheng! ”

A mechanical voice suddenly sounded in Mondo's ears.

It was a mechanical airship and the only means of communication between the other rulers of Zaan and Mondo.

"Come to the castle!"

The sound of the machine originated from Victor, who is now one of the supreme rulers of Zaun.

"I see." Mondo clenched the scalpel in his hand, a precursor to his excitement. His excitement was not because of invasion or war, but because war meant for him that an inexhaustible supply of high-quality "goods" was about to appear.

High in the sky, the cold wind is fierce.

"General! We've switched from stealth mode to combat, what's next? ”

Just like the old slave saw it. The silver flash was the ship's protective layer, a new technology that allowed Piltover's ship to fly across most of the sky without being detected by Zaun's radar. Now the exterior of the battleship has changed to a deep black, which means that the battle can start at any moment.

In the command compartment of the floating air ship, a general in Piltover's silver uniform was a general. The general was a middle-aged man of half a hundred, and his beard was meticulously trimmed.

The general was not in a hurry to speak. He looked at the dense buildings beneath the sky, and at the moving crowds smaller than ants.

Only the general knew what his order meant. Before leaving, the magistrate solemnly handed over the order of the Supreme Panel to himself.

When he saw that order, even the half-lived general couldn't help but tremble.

The command is simple.

That would be a war against Zaun.

However, the conditions attached to the order are not simple.

Use the most murderous, inhumane, and bottomless way to wage war against Zu'an.

Because of this. So tens of thousands of warships are loaded with the most advanced Hex X-100 aerial bombs.

This aerial bomb is not only amazingly powerful, but the most terrifying thing is the loading part of the bomb. The loading part of each bomb is stuffed with all kinds of viruses and bacteria. Although the Zaun virus on the continent of Valoran is the most famous, it does not mean that these viruses produced in Piltover's state-of-the-art laboratories are not worth worrying about.

In fact, the general had heard that two such bombs could wipe out a town on the surface. And this kind of smoothing is still a euphemism, and it is closer to reality that the bomb-infested surface will no longer exist. Buildings are in ashes, and all living things are in ashes. And unlike the magically infested way of the Twisted Jungle, nothing can survive on a biological level.

The area of Zaun is not vast, but the density of buildings is second to none. And under that dense building, there are even more people than ordinary people can imagine. It is said that there are now millions of slaves and workers in Zaun, and all this is about to be forced to change by order of the general.

"Bomb dropping."

The general's words were concise and powerful.

When he said these two words with difficulty, his whole body seemed to collapse, and he was sweating profusely under his new uniform.

Each warship carried four Hex X-100s, and there were thousands of warships in this attack. So what is the coverage and expected killing?

The general was no longer willing to calculate, he just shifted the responsibility to the high-level who gave the order in his heart. After all, as Piltover's three-star general, he is actually just a puppet who obeys the magistrate.

"May the gods bless Valoran. May technology not perish. The technocratic general muttered silently in his heart.

He then saw black bombs raining down on the ground. He even wondered if there would be a place in this world called Zuan in a few minutes' time.

Mondo walked halfway down the road, but he raised his head again.

He saw bomb after bomb falling like rain and rapidly growing in his field of vision.