Munitions Empire

When it was first produced in the factory, white phosphorus was a colorless or pale yellow, semi-translucent waxy substance with a strong pungent smell, reminiscent of garlic.

Its ignition point is extremely low, only about 40 degrees Celsius, and it could combust through friction with the air or if mishandled, with even a small amount of the powder reaching this temperature.

Thus, under normal circumstances, it could be assumed that the substance would ignite upon contact with oxygen, burning with a yellow flame while releasing dense smoke.

It could be used to combust materials that regular combustibles struggled to set on fire, capable of burning intensely even in confined spaces with low air density. Typically, the burning temperature could exceed a terrifying 1000 degrees Celsius, effectively annihilating all carbon-based life forms within its effective radius.

Another characteristic of white phosphorus bombs was that once they made contact with an object, they kept burning until extinguished. Traditional methods were useless in putting out the flames. Therefore, once it came into contact with human skin, the burning would persist, penetrating the flesh and eventually reaching the bones.

The iconic dense white smoke it produced contained a strong chemical irritant that could severely affect the eyes and nose, even causing irreversible damage.

That's why such substances were banned under international conventions on Earth, occasionally brought to light in news reports by various countries whenever used, with the users inevitably branded inhumane.

However, in this world, no such conventions existed because such weapons had never before been seen on the battlefield, never revealing their horrifying capabilities to the world.

In the path toward self-destruction, humanity truly had a knack. Those who had truly witnessed the apocalyptic devastation capable by human weapons could hardly take zombie movies seriously anymore.

If humanity unreservedly opened its arsenal, taking out just two or three treasured weapons and casually tossing out a few, a city could be engulfed in the aroma of roasting meat for three days and nights.

The reason these weapons don't seem so terrifying to us is that nowadays, no one dares to use them extensively, risking global outrage; to divorce dosage from effects is an act of hooliganism.

Just by deploying a hundred or so planes to carpet-bomb Raccoon City, in ten days, the number of zombies left with lower bodies might be fewer than the giant pandas in Sichuan…

The Dahua soldiers who were still unaware of the potency of white phosphorus bombs soon realized that these "dud" blasts, which didn't seem so powerful at first, might be more terrifying than they appeared.

Airburst fuses made the white phosphorus bombs explode mid-air near the ground, and then the fiery flames dragged the white smoke down to the earth.

Following that, the solid ruins began to burn, even stone walls emitted plumes of white smoke.

Forget gas masks; the Dahua soldiers without even a handkerchief instantly felt as if the air breathed into their lungs was slicing through their alveoli.

Then, the soldiers contaminated with white phosphorus started smoking from their bodies, screaming as they tore off their burning clothes, trying desperately to extricate themselves from the flames.

Bystanders who were kind enough to help soon realized their own palms were smoking as well, pain followed, and melted skin began to flake off their bones with every flicker of the flames.

Screams echoed everywhere, some beat their hands against the ground, others rolled trying to disperse the thick smoke enveloping them.

"Help! Save me!" cried a Dahua soldier as he ripped off his gear, shouting for assistance.

The comrade who was helping him could no longer tend to him as the flames had engulfed his whole body, writhing in the dense smoke.

"Don't come near me! Stay away!" cried another soldier, panic-stricken, aiming his rifle with tearful eyes at his comrade who had managed to tear off the burned straps.

It wasn't crying per se; the dense smoke was just too irritating to open his eyes. The soliciting soldier, having discarded his gear, realized his palms were smoking too, that something was still ablaze behind him.

The pain in his back made breathing difficult; he collapsed, rolling on the ground trying to alleviate the pain.

Yet no matter how much he flopped like a fish out of water, he was unable to reduce the flames devouring him by even a little.

The whole process was slow and agonizing, impossible to interrupt, while the untouched soldiers coughed and gasped in the suffocating white smoke, screaming and cursing.

No matter what they did, it was in vain; the world seemed to be ablaze, Fengjiang City at that moment was a veritable hell.

Soon, the irritating smoke engulfed the northern part of Fengjiang City, drifting with the wind. Flames danced everywhere, and everywhere there were charred bodies, already beyond struggle.

The shouts gradually faded, leaving behind an odd aroma of meat tinged with an unpleasant chemical odor. Those who smelled it couldn't help but start retching, and anyone who had seen people struggling and writhing in the flames became madly hysterical.

Any touch from another person would cause those who had already mentally collapsed to subconsciously flinch and twitch, fearing that their bodies had been set alight, mistaking any sensation for the flames consuming them.

Because of the appearance of White Phosphorus Bombs, all the planned counterattacks of the Dahua defenders for the day were canceled. The Tang Army had captured a large area of the southern part of Fengjiang City, even without facing the fierce resistance that had been expected.

In the evening, General Feng Kezhi, disregarding the danger, personally inspected the area affected by the White Phosphorus Bombs. He walked on the still-warm soil amidst air that slightly choked, and he watched the still-burning roofs of buildings with trepidation.

Ten years ago, the battlefields he knew involved facing off with Shireck Firearms in lines, beating drums, and shouting slogans while fighting in the fields.

But now, the battlefield before him had transformed. It was more terrifying than the hells described in poetry; bloody and brutal were inadequate descriptions for this scene, where every corner reeked of suffocating despair.

A wounded soldier whose arm had nearly been burned off by a bit of white phosphorus lay on the ground; as General Feng Ke passed by him, not even his eyes moved.

Another wounded soldier, who had lost both legs, sat there, having been tormented to the point where he no longer had the energy to cry or shout.

Not far away were piles of cleared corpses, most of them burnt black, resembling the stacks of firewood next to a furnace, foolishly indistinguishable from one another.

Indeed, human fat could burn as well; once ignited, it could keep burning until nothing was left.

"Great General!" Finally, an unwounded officer spotted Feng Ke approaching with a group of people. He stood at attention and saluted, his voice filled with resignation.

Everyone knew there was no hope left in this war! Witnessing such terrifying weapons, watching so many die in the seemingly unquenchable inferno, no one harbored any hope for victory.

Previously, the thought in the minds of commanders of the Dahua Empire was: We have lost this war. Now, having witnessed the White Phosphorus Bombs, what the soldiers and officers of Dahua thought was: We are finished!

With a mere gesture to the officer to complete his salute, General Feng Ke walked up to him and stopped.

He spoke in a hushed voice, filled with profound sorrow, "Do you think the Tang People will continue to use this weapon tomorrow?"

"I don't know, Great General," the officer shook his head, honestly admitting his greatest concern was facing that damned bomb again the next day.

It would suddenly split open in mid-air, covering a large area. Hidden inside a building would mean suffocating from the burning doors and windows, while running out into the open would mean being ignited by those relentless flames that would not be extinguished.

For the soldiers of the Dahua Empire, this thing was simply indefensible; whatever they did, they could not stop the flames from continuing to burn.

Someone had seen a burning soldier jump into water, managing with great difficulty to extinguish the flames on him, but as soon as he climbed out, his body began to smoke again.

Therefore, the officer could only sigh pessimistically, "That thing just keeps burning, almost never stopping. Wounded are everywhere, hundreds injured in each battalion, some say it's the flames of hell."

"That's why we must stop those Tang People who cooperate with demons at Fengjiang!" General Feng Ke patted the officer's shoulder, "If we lose, the demons will destroy the world."

Although General Feng Ke managed to stabilize the soldiers' morale a little by exploiting the rampant rumors about the hellfire, he knew this was by no means a solution.

If the Tang Army continued to use this horrific weapon, the Battle of Fengjiang would soon end in a disastrous defeat for the Dahua Empire. Although the approach of winter would undoubtedly pause the advance of the Tang Army, what about next year? And after that?

While General Feng Ke was furrowing his brows considering his strategy, a roof that had been burning in the distance finally collapsed under the weight, crashing down into the house below with the sound of a crack and bringing flames inside.

Suddenly, the choking smell of burning rushed over, and General Feng Ke felt his eyes sting unbearably, each breath feeling like torture.

"Cough! Cough!" General Feng Ke covered his tearing eyes with his hands, as his Guards also coughed incessantly.

"Quick! Protect the Great General! Get him out of here! Move!" In the midst of darkness, General Feng Ke heard someone yelling, felt someone grab his arm, and began to run forward with uneven steps.

When he opened his eyes again, a nurse had just finished cleaning his eyes with a cotton swab. His eyes were very sore, but he had not lost his sight.

This brought him a sigh of relief: at least he had not become blind.