67: Chapter 67 Pre-battle Preparations: Ensuring Absolute Safety

The blue light of the condensation chamber flowed slowly across the surface of the mecha, like a layer of living frost.

Chen Wuwang stood outside the chamber, his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye constantly scrolling through data streams—Coating Curing Progress: 97.3%.

Energy fluctuations were stable, and the crystal structure integrity met the standard.

He didn't speak, but simply raised his hand and made a light swipe in the air. A semi-transparent interface emerged, and his fingertips quickly tapped a few times, writing the final protection parameters into the main control System.

"The last one." Chen Tiezhu squatted by the chamber, holding a psionic thermometer in his hand, his brow furrowed so tightly it could crush a mosquito. "Low-temperature curing for three double-hours, not a second less. This thing is more grueling than refining a High Grade Magical Artifact."

He wiped his face; he was unshaven, and his eyes were bloodshot.

He hadn't closed his eyes for seven days, all to finish upgrading all three "broken star-i" units before this wave of the Yao Race counterattacked.

The new coating was smelted from Nano-Spirit Crystals refined from Lightning-Struck Meteorite Cores mixed with Cold Marrow Silver. It was resistant to high temperatures, corrosion, and could slightly deflect spell energy, but its temperament was incredibly eccentric—it would bubble if the temperature was one degree too high and crack if it was one degree too low.

"You watch the condensation chamber, and I'll watch you," Chen Wuwang finally spoke, his voice raspy but steady. "Don't go collapsing before the mecha is even finished."

"I won't collapse." Chen Tiezhu grinned, revealing a row of yellow teeth. "My son is still waiting in the cockpit to test the new armor. If I pass out, he'll be cursing eight generations of my ancestors later."

As the two were speaking, a flurry of hurried footsteps came from the distance.

Chen Xiaodao strode over, helmet in hand, his face still flushed from the simulated deduction.

He walked straight up to the two and shoved a Jade Slip into Chen Wuwang's hand.

"The sand table exercise is finished; I ran through all three enemy contingency plans. After adjusting the triangular formation spacing to four hundred zhang, the fire coverage blind spots were reduced by 82%, but the maneuver response delay increased by 0.6 seconds."

"Not enough." Chen Wuwang took the Jade Slip, scanned it, and directly rejected it. "0.6 seconds is enough for a Golden Core Yao General to unleash three Blood Blade Storms. We aren't fighting an exhibition match."

"I know!" Chen Xiaodao's eyes widened, his tone rising. "That's why I suggest raising the neural synchronization rate to over 92%, sacrificing a bit of stability for reaction speed!"

"Are you crazy?" Chen Tiezhu suddenly looked up. "92%? The highest among the current pilots is only 87%! Forcing a frequency increase will cause Divine Sense shock at best, and immediate coma at worst! Do you want them to fly the mecha into a mountain?"

"Then we train!" Chen Xiaodao slammed a fist onto the nearby console with a 'bang'. "You both saw last night's battle. The Blood Blade Storm released by the Yao General in its death throes almost tore open the mecha's left wing! We rely on numerical suppression and long-range strikes; if it really comes down to face-to-face melee, current mecha are just iron coffins!"

He took a breath, his voice lowering but becoming fiercer.

"I'm not afraid of trial and error. I can be the first to go. I'll strip the protection System and do a full unprotected synchronization, as long as I can find the limit threshold."

Chen Wuwang stared at him for a few seconds without speaking.

He knew this kid wasn't just showing off. When he was picked up from the ruins of a village slaughtered by the Zerg at age five, he was clutching half a wooden sword in his arms.

Over the years, others practiced the sword to Breakthrough their Realm; he practiced the sword to kill.

"You're not afraid to die, but I am," Chen Wuwang finally spoke, his tone calm. "Not a single one of my soldiers can be lost."

He turned and walked toward the command room, his steps steady.

Chen Xiaodao followed, and Chen Tiezhu rubbed his temples before dragging his exhausted body inside as well.

The secret meeting room wasn't large; the four walls were covered in embedded monitoring screens, and in the center stood a black stone table projecting a 3D topographic map of the Northern Border Rift Valley.

Red dots marked last night's combat positions, and yellow lines traced the enemy's possible offensive routes.

"Sit." Chen Wuwang pointed to a chair and sat down first. He tapped the edge of the table, pulling up the combat playback video.

In the footage, three mecha hovered in a wedge formation, their Rune Cannons firing in unison as electromagnetic nets blanketed the area.

But the moment the Yao General took to the air, the flagship mecha's left shoulder armor was grazed by a blood blade, instantly melting a deep groove into it as energy readings fluctuated violently.

"See that?" Chen Wuwang paused the frame. "The defensive response was slow by 0.4 seconds. It's not a System issue; it's the material's thermal degradation causing energy conduction delay. If this strike had been ten centimeters off, we'd be replacing the pilot."

Chen Tiezhu leaned closer to the screen, squinted for a long time, and nodded.

"The coating can't withstand high-heat spells. We need to add an insulation layer, but it can't affect mobility... I have an idea. Use Cold Marrow Silver to make a honeycomb interlayer and inject inert spirit mist; it can absorb heat and act as a buffer."

"Is there enough time?" Chen Wuwang asked.

"Enough," Chen Tiezhu gritted his teeth. "But I'll have to shut down the power supply to three non-core workshops in the East District and divert Spiritual Vein branches to keep the condensation chamber running."

"Approved." Chen Wuwang made the call immediately. "Notify the Dispatch Department to set all non-combat equipment to standby mode. Prioritize guaranteeing the mecha upgrades."

He turned to Chen Xiaodao. "You suggested taking the initiative to strike deep into the Rift Valley to clear out the nests? Tell me your reasoning."

Chen Xiaodao stood straight. "Defense is inferior to offense. Since they were defeated this time, they will inevitably regroup and return. Instead of waiting for them to plot in the shadows, it's better for us to charge in and disrupt their rhythm. I can lead the mecha squad to raid the main nest and blow up their spawning pools."

"And then?" Chen Wuwang sneered. "Run after the explosion? Do you think that's a vegetable garden? The bottom of the Rift Valley is connected to the Earth Fire Veins. A random explosion could trigger a magma eruption, and the entire Northern Territory would suffer. Are you fighting a war, or committing genocide?"

Chen Xiaodao was speechless.

"Our goal isn't expansion; it's establishing prestige." Chen Wuwang's voice deepened. "Let everyone who wants to make a move know—if you step onto the Chen family's land, you die. But we will also never cross the line by a single step. This is the rule, and the bottom line."

He swiped his finger, and the projection switched to a new tactical plan.

Level 1 Alert: Border monitoring fully active, AI automatically identifies abnormal Spiritual Qi fluctuations.

Level 2 Alert: Mecha squad boards and stands by at high altitude, energy charged to over 95%.

Level 3 Alert: Immediately launch crossfire strikes to blockade the Rift Valley exit and annihilate the enemy outside the borders.

Emergency Directive: If a Commander-level unit above Golden Core appears, release the reserve Rune Missile swarm, target locked on the core consciousness entity.

"No pursuit, no deep incursions, no risks." Chen Wuwang said each word clearly. "What we want isn't just victory; it's to be flawless."

After listening, Chen Tiezhu slapped the table hard. "This plan is solid! I was afraid you youngsters would let the blood go to your heads and insist on risking your lives."

"It's not hot-bloodedness." Chen Xiaodao lowered his head, his voice muffled. "I just don't want to see more clansmen die under the claws of those beasts."

"Which is why you must be even calmer." Chen Wuwang looked at him, his tone softening slightly. "The more you want to protect them, the less you can afford to be impulsive. A truly strong person isn't the one who charges at the very front, but the one who can bring everyone back alive."

Chen Xiaodao was silent for a moment before finally nodding. "I'll listen to you."

"Good." Chen Wuwang stood up, walked to the main control terminal, and quickly tapped on the virtual keyboard, writing the final tactical protocol into the System.

The confirmation key flashed brightly.

He didn't press it immediately, but looked back at the two men. "Tiezhu, over at the condensation chamber, when will the last mecha finish curing?"

"Within two double-hours," Chen Tiezhu replied. "Once finished, it will immediately move to final testing."

"Xiao Dao, go gather the pilots for one last neural synchronization calibration. I want everyone in peak condition."

"Understood." Chen Xiaodao gave a mechanical salute and turned to leave.

Only two people remained in the command room.

Chen Wuwang stared at the screen and asked softly, "Do you think they'll come again?"

Chen Tiezhu sneered. "Of course. The Yao Race aren't ones for reasoning. Having suffered a loss last night, if they don't come tonight, they'll surely arrive tomorrow night. And... they'll definitely be stronger."

"I think so too." Chen Wuwang nodded and finally pressed the confirmation key.

"Beep—Tactical protocol recorded. System entering standby mode."

Blue light flashed, and all monitoring screens switched to real-time feeds: the Northern Border Rift Valley was calm, and in the mecha bay, the three "broken star-i" units stood quietly, their armor glinting with a cold silver-gray luster like three crouching fierce beasts.

Chen Wuwang stood by the window, gazing at the northern horizon.

The night had not ended, and the wind had not ceased.

His fingers unconsciously tapped against the windowsill, once, and then again.

As if waiting for something.

And as if counting down.