CHAPTER 259: CHAPTER 201: FLAMETHROWER

Today’s "target" is still an Ice Wild Boar, after all, this fire-resistant Magical Beast is most suitable for such experiments.

At this moment, it is tied up tightly on the test stake, roaring incessantly, the hot air spraying from its nostrils condensing into white mist in the cold wind, its four hooves furiously pawing the ground, its eyes filled with a bloody ferocity and unwillingness.

Louis signaled someone.

A robust Apprentice Knight stepped forward slowly, his face tense but without hesitation.

Under Mike’s personal guidance, he shouldered the primary flamethrower model, checked the pressure valve, trigger latch, ignition crystal stone... every step performed meticulously and with skillful training.

"Aim for the stake’s center, don’t get greedy for the head," Mike whispered a reminder.

The Apprentice Knight stood firm, feet apart, stabilizing his stance.

He held his breath and concentrated, the nozzle aimed at the boar’s chest.

All the onlookers retreated, withdrawing beyond the defined safety line.

The air seemed to freeze, leaving only the sound of cold wind and metal friction.

"Begin," Mike commanded.

The trigger was abruptly pulled.

"Boom!!"

A deafening explosion echoed across the wasteland, a wrathful flame serpent suddenly shot out from the nozzle, deep orange intermingling with red, as if Hell’s mouth had opened, spewing a roaring tongue of fire.

The fiery tongue raced along the ground, advancing at ground level, instantly scorching weeds, twisting the air, the scorching burnt stench slicing the nostrils like a knife.

The moment the flames engulfed the Ice Wild Boar, it was as if a fierce tiger bit into its prey.

The burning Fire Scale Ointment clung fiercely to the boar’s fur, the fire rapidly spreading along the fat, forcefully bursting into a series of explosive oily flames.

"Roar!!"

The bound boar let out a wretched scream, struggling wildly, dragging with it the Cold Iron chains in a frenzied charge left and right, those limbs as thick as tree trunks still producing a spray of sparks despite being bound tight.

Amidst the rolling smoke, the black fur swiftly charred, fat bursting, the air beginning to fill with a stench reminiscent of roasted corpses.

Among the onlookers, some exclaimed and stepped back, some couldn’t help but cover their mouths and noses, but more kept their eyes fixed on this fiery massacre.

Hillco lowered his head, pressed the stopwatch, timing while observing the details of flame attachment, burning, and the target’s reactions.

Ten seconds, eleven, twelve.

The fire finally began to wane, the boar let out one last low roar, collapsing with a crash, its burning body still smoking, resembling a remnant from Hell.

"Attachment met expectations." Hillco wiped the soot from his nose, nodding, "Twelve seconds of spray is just right, firepower didn’t deviate. The ignition crystal stone triggered successfully in one go, zero delay, performance is very ideal."

He stepped forward, pointing to the Apprentice Knight’s shoulder strap:

"However, the carrying structure still has room for optimization. The recoil during the spray is too strong, the shoulder straps too tight, affecting aim stability."

He turned to Mike, "A waist belt can be added to share the impact, and softer inner padding leather can be used to relieve pressure."

"Noted." Mike nodded.

Louis stepped forward, gaze fixed on the still smoking carcass, then looked at the young knight standing firm, reaching out to pat his shoulder lightly.

"Well done."

In his mind, however, he was swiftly analyzing the battlefield viability of this terrifying weapon.

If this is the power, a three-man team taking turns to operate could suppress an entire enemy breach.

And... just an Apprentice Knight could stably control the flamethrower, not to mention higher-tier Knights.

With the flames finally extinguished, only a pile of blackened charcoal remained in the center of the wasteland, with the faint outlines of what used to be part of the boar’s skeleton visible.

The wind dispersed the charred smell, and the crowd slowly approached, still savoring the breathtaking scene from before.

Hillco crouched down to examine the remnants, checking the thickness of the carbon layer and grease marks, muttering to himself: "It’s practically art..."

Louis quietly watched the charred boar carcass, his mind already simulating another combat scenario.

Flamethrowers, plus heat-resistant armor custom-made for Knights...

This is simply a deadly weapon against the Insect Corpses!

Can they be shot? It doesn’t matter, just burn them.

The Insect Corpses have almost no long-range attack capabilities, all they do is close in for bites.

As soon as the fire opens, the charging Insect Corpses are like moths drawn to a flame, unable to last five seconds.

He couldn’t help but chuckle softly, a hint of cold tactical delight flashing in his eyes.

This is frontal suppression, it’s crushing, a pure weapon prepared for the "human defense lines."

Louis stepped forward, raising his hand to pat Mike on the shoulder.

"Good job."

Mike immediately stood straighter, his whiskered face full of excitement, speaking half a beat faster:

"This... this is all thanks to you, Lord! It’s your design that’s really amazing, I... I couldn’t come up with such a sophisticated structure in eighteen lifetimes!"

The heat guide of this nozzle, when you drew it out, I thought it was a doodle, but it actually came to fruition! Not only did it come to fruition, but it’s also so impressive!"

Facing Mike’s incessant praise, Louis merely smiled slightly, as if listening to a breeze passing by.

"Don’t just flatter, the second one, tell me," he said, his tone unhurried.

Mike was momentarily stunned, then nodded vigorously as if a switch had been flipped: "Yes! This second treasure — I dare say, is absolutely one of your most insane ideas!"

He quickly walked to the second iron box nearby, lifted his hand, and with a "click" of the iron lock, lifted the cover cloth, revealing a short, heavy launch tube.

The tube body was made of Cold Iron alloy, with bold lines, its surface faintly glimmering with casting patterns, emitting a heavy presence.

On one side, it’s connected to a simple yet stable tripod, with steel claws attached underneath for stabilizing the landing.