Ice Age Apocalypse: I Hoard Billions of Supplies

The Tri-Eyed Clan soldiers used a device similar to a harpoon gun, firing slender hooks with barbs from the muzzle that directly pierced the soldier’s neck. Then, with a press of a switch, the hooks retracted, dragging his corpse back with them.

This was a weapon specifically designed for hunting humans.

In times like these, large, sweeping swords, spears, and clubs were far less effective than this tool.

The human soldiers came to their senses—the true test had arrived.

A professional army’s combat effectiveness and equipment were leagues above what ordinary people could match.

“KILLLLLL!!!!”

At this moment, no words were needed. Both sides were hell-bent on taking each other’s lives. The two armies, one large and one small, charged at one another.

The result of their head-on collision was devastating for the elite soldiers on the human side!

Just as Zhang Yi had witnessed earlier, while the humans’ weapons were sophisticated, the soldiers, unable to carry heavy artillery, found their firearms completely unable to penetrate the Tri-Eyed Clan soldiers’ crude metal armor.

Bullets, at most, struck their knees, making them double over in pain.

Yet every single Tri-Eyed Clan soldier was equivalent to a reinforcement-type superhuman with a superhuman ability index of over 3,000 points.

Not to mention the “martial artists” among them, who possessed unique abilities.

With their physical constitutions, adding superhuman abilities elevated their strength to several levels higher!

On the human side, though their numbers were no less than the enemy’s, they collapsed at the first clash!

Ordinary soldiers were treated like rats, skewered one after another like meat on a stick.

Only the powerful superhumans could put up a desperate fight with their abilities.

From a high vantage point, Lancelot and the others, coldly observing the battlefield, furrowed their brows.

“These guys are utterly useless! I thought they could at least stir up some chaos and draw out the strong ones from Nasha. Turns out they can’t even beat regular soldiers.”

Mordred, the Rebellious Knight, frowned and spoke with a look of disdain.

Galahad, the Guardian Knight, a sturdy middle-aged man in his forties, crossed his arms and chuckled. “After all, the size difference is just too huge! If this nation had even a tenth of the human population, then... I shudder to think.”

If their population could reach a tenth of humanity’s, they could have easily destroyed any civilization in the world back then.

Mordred turned to look at the leader of their team, Lancelot, the Judgment Knight.

“Vice-Captain, these idiots are almost dead. Should we save them or not?”

Bors, the Green Knight, smirked at Mordred. “Since when do you care about their lives?”

Mordred felt a bit frustrated. “There are things these muggles still need to do. Otherwise, should we just charge straight up to the palace at the top?”

Lancelot finally spoke.

“Exactly. Creating chaos and finding a chance to enter the Holy Spirit Hall—that’s what we need to focus on right now.”

He raised his head to gaze at the massive palace beneath the dome.

A strong instinct told him that inside it lay what he sought on this journey.

It was the same feeling he’d had when he first entered Atlantis.

“Let’s move! Clean this place out!”

Lancelot declared.

The Knights of the Round Table around him revealed expressions of cold indifference or cruel smiles as they leaped down one after another.

Finally, they could cut loose!

The Tri-Eyed Clan soldiers were still gleefully hunting down the humans before them. Suddenly, they felt their feet grow heavy, as if something were wrapping around their calves, making movement difficult.

Looking down, they saw that the entire street had somehow turned into a vast swamp, and their massive bodies were slowly sinking into it.

“What... is this thing?”

The Tri-Eyed Clan soldiers struggled frantically, but the harder they fought, the faster they sank.

Mordred watched from a distance, smirking coldly.

Galahad, the Guardian Knight, a sturdy middle-aged man in his forties, crossed his arms and chuckled. “After all, the size difference is just too huge! If this nation had even a tenth of the human population, then... I shudder to think.”

This was his ability, [Muddy Swamp], which could transform any terrain into a swamp.

Caught off guard by this ability, the Tri-Eyed Clan soldiers flailed desperately.

“Boom!”

Just then, from both sides of the street, a series of explosions erupted from within the large buildings.

From the blazing walls, massive trees suddenly burst forth.

Bors, the Green Knight, was an extremely rare special-type, a plant-based ability user who could summon colossal trees for battle.

A white figure leaped down from high above, swiftly stepping across the trees, and swept past the Tri-Eyed Clan soldiers.

“Shiiing!”

A flash of white light was blinding, cutting sharply through the air.

“Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!” “Thump!”

Over a dozen massive heads of Tri-Eyed Clan soldiers flew high into the air, blood spurting skyward.

At the other end of the street, Lamorak, the Shining Knight, landed gracefully in a white combat suit, her rapier pointed at the ground as a single drop of blood slowly trickled off its tip.

With the Knights of the Round Table joining the fray, the tide of battle quickly tilted in humanity’s favor.

After all, the Knights of the Round Table represented one of the highest-tier combat forces humanity could offer.

Realizing the situation was dire, the Tri-Eyed Clan soldiers under attack immediately pulled out signal flares and fired them into the sky.

Yellow fireworks blazed brilliantly against the purple night sky.

Seeing this, the Tri-Eyed Clan soldiers still scouring the nearby streets for humans rushed over at top speed.

But even regular soldiers, and some powerful superhumans, quickly became corpses beneath the Knights of the Round Table’s onslaught.

The blazing streets were choked with the massive corpses of Tri-Eyed Clan soldiers.

Among them were not a few powerful generals.

Lancelot stepped over their bodies, but his gaze remained fixed on the Holy Spirit Hall.

“Still no movement from the Holy Spirit Hall? Isn’t it about time they sent out someone with real strength?”

As if in response to his words.

At the end of the street, a pair of black military boots slowly came into view.

“Thump!”

...

Each footstep seemed to land on everyone’s hearts. Lancelot looked up, his gaze arrogant and cold, fixed on the figure ahead.

At the corner of the second floor, they saw a pale face and a pair of pitch-black, deep eyes.

It was a massive Tri-Eyed Clan member, over twenty meters tall—nearly twice the height of his peers even among their kind.

Yet his appearance was not ugly; even by human aesthetic standards, he could be called handsome.

Fair and refined features, skin as pale as if afflicted by albinism, with a head of silver hair cascading down to his waist.

He wasn’t wearing the black iron armor of ordinary Tri-Eyed Clan soldiers.

Instead, his upper body was bare, draped in a long cape.

In his right hand, he dragged a massive greatsword, scraping along the street with a harsh screech, sparks flying everywhere.

That sword was less a blade and more a pillar, its edges merely ground slightly thinner.

But no one doubted that when it struck a person, that person would be either cut in two or crushed into pulp.

Chidorian, General of the Nasha Imperial Guard, had arrived.