Chapter 801 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 801: The Fall of the "Human Emperor" [After a protracted conflict, the Allied forces advanced into the Haibei City territory, successfully meeting the 370,000 troops entering from the northern Haivar Province. The province, long suffering under the Torchbearer’s grasp, finally saw the dawn of peace.] [Fearing the consequences of the war tribunal, the upper echelons of the Torch Church, after their unsuccessful resistance, chose to seek refuge in outer space.] [Currently, the battle in the Haivar Province is in its final stages. The United Communal Forces have secured over 87% of the combat zones, and over 90% of the “Heavenly Realms” have been dismantled. The corruption of the Nog is being eradicated from this sacred land.] [Faced with the unstoppable Allied advance, the Torch Church’s resistance has become increasingly passive. The remaining Torch Apostles and their mutant supporters have withdrawn from the frontlines around Guangtian City to the Rosong Mountains, attempting a last stand using the treacherous terrain. Yet, they will soon find their efforts futile, as their only escape is surrender and repentance for those they have wronged.] [As of last night, the Allied Jungle Corps and Storm Corps were advancing from different directions towards the Rosong Mountains. The Allied armored units have sealed all retreat routes for the remnants of the Torch Church. The Storm Corps' leader, in an interview with our station, stated that they will live up to the expectations of the Alliance's people, striking hard against the instigators of the chaos, sweeping over the battlefield like a storm, and bringing victory and glory back to Dawn City!] [Reported by "Survivor Daily: Dawn City Edition"] Qidian City, Pinecone Farm. Rows of leafless fruit trees were dusted with snowflakes, stretching out towards an endless patchwork of fields in the distance. Frost, sitting on the balcony, thumbed through the newspaper in her hand, her face lit up with a radiant smile. “Oh, Eclipse, this damned war is finally coming to an end, and good days are about to return.” “Maybe.” Unlike Frost’s smiling face, Eclipse seemed slightly regretful about not making it to the front lines. Noticing the expression, Frost asked curiously. “Is it my imagination, or do you seem not very enthusiastic?” Eclipse’s pupils flickered slightly, responding in a casual tone. “It’s not your imagination. I am indeed not very enthusiastic... After all, the war is ending, and I didn’t get to play my part, which feels like a disservice to the taxpayers of Ideal City.” Frost looked surprised at it. “How can you say that about yourself? We provided so many supplies to the front! Even the esteemed Administrator mentioned that our contributions were crucial to such an easy victory in this war.” Listening to the chatter around, Eclipse sighed softly, its expression unmoving as it continued. “Be that as it may, I am, after all, a biorobot designed for warfare. Even if I achieve exceptional results in other fields, if I fail to make a difference on the battlefield, I’m afraid I can't possibly feel happy.” “Well… if that’s how you see it.” Frost looked visibly taken aback by its answer. Standing beside them, silent all the while, Yinyin was gazing intently towards the southern sky. Since the war began, she spent time each day staring into the southern sky. Seemingly seeing something, she suddenly spoke without warning. “... I’ve begun to lose my sense of their presence.” Her consciousness resided on a bionic chip left by Luogan, enabling her survival in a digital form after death. Because the chip hosting her consciousness and other chips used by Torch Church’s pioneers were based on similar algorithms, she could faintly perceive the existence of other bionic chips affiliated with the church. As the front line advanced, her perception of those chips grew weaker and weaker. Apparently, as the "Survivor Daily" reported, the Torch was gradually losing ground control— The apostles carrying the chips were dwindling in number! Observing Yinyin lost in her thoughts, Frost smiled and whispered, “Isn’t that fantastic? Those lunatics are finally being driven off this planet.” Yinyin sighed quietly, speaking softly. “If only that were true… but I have a feeling they won’t give up so easily.” Even today, she remembered the tragedy that occurred at this estate. Under the corruption of the Nog, those once kind and friendly had turned into monsters… even she herself had once been swept away uncontrollably. With the curtain drawn on the hellscape of the Jinchuan Province, she hoped those evil elements would never return. Yet it was clear they wouldn't surrender easily. Whether it was those who created hell once or those pulling strings behind the scenes. Seeing the anxious eyes of the young girl, Frost stood up suddenly, giving her a reassuring pat on the head with a reliable smile. “Don’t worry.” Looking into Yinyin’s puzzled eyes, she continued in a gentle voice. “...when that time comes, we’ll push them out once again.” … At the same moment when the Burning Corps converged with the 370,000-member Legion at the old site of Haibei City, the Jungle Corps advancing from another direction finally arrived at the Rosong Mountains and united with the Storm Corps pushing in from the northern line into Haivar Province. Seeing the big guy with a steel plate welded to his chest approaching, a delighted Springwater chuckled as he greeted, “You’re late, Brother Chicken. We’re almost done here, and you’ve just landed.” Midnight Slaughter Chicken chuckled heartily. “Consider this: maybe because we landed, your progress was so swift.” Springwater Commander waved his hand dismissively. “Come on, those green-skinned brutes can’t withstand my 37mm cannons! But if you guys had landed any later, you might have missed out on the action entirely.” Midnight Slaughter Chicken rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right!” “Hahaha!” The two laughed and exchanged pleasantries, showing no sign of the tension typically present on the frontline, even though the Torch’s Inquisition squads and mutant scouts were active in the nearby mountains. Multiple reconnaissance companies under the Storm Corps had already infiltrated territories controlled by the Torch remnants, marking their strategic facilities and potential strategic installations. At the same moment as the convergence of the two forces, the artillery positions of the Storm Corps were fully prepared. Awaiting a single command, they were ready to turn the Torch remnants' positions into a fiery inferno! On the other end, the Torch remnants retreating to the Rosong Mountains were in low spirits, showing none of the arrogance they wielded in actions across the Jinchuan and Valley Province. Those who managed to escape to this area, whether Apostles, Inquisition members, or mutants, had suffered at least three major defeats, bewildered by the Allied forces on the battlefield. Not only that. Throughout their southern retreat, Alliance planes frequently flew overhead, occasionally dropping bombs that exploded for effect. They were bombarded with explosive devices and gunfire, leaving many terrified of the aircraft engines, frantically seeking cover at the slightest sound from above. Although the Rosong Mountains' terrain was steep, it wasn’t more formidable than the Ten Peaks area. Standing on the rocky summit, the Human Emperor gazed expressionlessly at the distant Allied positions, a growing sense of desolation welling within. Even with immense reluctance, he had to acknowledge that the theocracy in Haivar Province was nearing its end. But what he hadn’t expected was, upon realizing this impending last moment, he felt calmer than he had ever imagined himself feeling. As if he had already accepted the inevitable conclusion. At that moment, heavy footsteps approached from the ascending path, stopping behind him as a power-armored Apostle whispered, “Respected Pioneer, we’ve lost contact with our base in Haibei City... I previously attempted to reach Command, but the signal of the Saint disappeared.” His name was Baskin, an Apostle in the "Iron Edge" Knights, and also its leader. In Rosong Mountains, only 677 Apostles remained, among them were 417 Inquisition judges and a few non-combat researchers. As the most complete Knights survivor group, the "Iron Edge" had only 120 left, making it hard to sustain the operation of a campaign. Though over 4,000 mutant cannon fodder remained, relying solely on them to reverse the situation was impossible. They needed more reinforcements! Whether it was personnel or equipment, even just a bit of weaponry or ammunition would make a difference! He hoped to get information about the whereabouts of the Holy Son from the Human Emperor, believing that the omnipotent Holy Son must have other tricks up his sleeve. However, to his disappointment—and even despair—upon hearing about the Holy Son’s disappearance, the Human Emperor in front of him simply nodded slightly. “I see.” With those words, the air returned to silence. Seeing the indifferent Human Emperor, Baskin was taken aback, rare anxiety rising in his eyes. “My lord…” The Human Emperor turned around, his gaze calm as he looked at Baskin. “Is there anything else?” The departure of the Holy Son didn’t surprise him; the only surprise was that the Holy Son had left before him. It seemed the Alliance had obtained intelligence from elsewhere, finding Sanctuary 20 before taking care of him. But it didn’t matter anymore. This was the final moment. Feeling an unexplained fear of what lay ahead from the Human Emperor’s calm demeanor, Baskin swallowed, forcing a shaky question from his throat. “What should we… what should we do now?” What should we do... Hearing his despairing voice, even the Human Emperor's stoic expression faintly showed a trace of bitterness. He too wanted to know what was the right course of action. But at this point, everything seemed futile. For a brief moment, he felt he had let down those who followed him. He had promised to lead them to a heavenly kingdom, yet now he could only watch as they were dragged back down by gravity. The collapse of the heavenly kingdom was inevitable; they didn’t need to drown with him. After a moment of silence, the Human Emperor suddenly spoke. "Escape from here." Baskin was stunned, incredulously staring at the Human Emperor, unable to believe such words were coming from him. However, the pioneer he respected continued to speak those heretical words. “Find a place in the wastelands where no one knows you, where the Alliance can’t find you, bury your ideals, your name, and your past, and live the rest of your life incognito—” “No!” Baskin suddenly roared in anger, interrupting the Human Emperor mid-sentence. At that moment, he was like a wounded beast, his bloodshot eyes filled with a terrifying ferocity. Staring fiercely at the expressionless Human Emperor, he clenched his fists and spoke through gritted teeth. “I came to you seeking a way to continue fighting, not to live a cowardly life! If that is the humiliating end, I would rather die in the last moments of the heavenly kingdom’s descent!” Listening to the apostle’s words to the end, the Human Emperor remained silent for a long time before sighing softly. “Is that so… I respect your choice; I acknowledge you as a true warrior, fighting for your ideals until the very end.” Baskin’s lips twitched as he looked at the once seemingly defeated pioneer, pleadingly asking, “Is there really no chance left?” The Human Emperor shook his head. “...Probably not.” Having said this, he slowly raised his head, casting his gaze into the sky ahead, softly murmuring. Here it comes... Almost immediately after his words fell, a majestic figure appeared in the distant sky. The indomitable bow of a ship cut through the clouds, revealing a massive 400mm cannon and an armor-clad silhouette. Steelheart! The protracted whistle seemed to have sounded the call for attack. Observing the airship as it slowly entered the battlefield, a slight change flickered across the Human Emperor’s expressionless face, and the tension in his heart eased into a sense of relief. This moment had finally arrived. It was all over… In his heart, there was neither madness nor despair, only the relief of letting go... At the same time, not far behind him, Baskin, with bloodshot eyes, showed a hint of terror. Especially as he saw the flash of the firing 400mm main cannon, its dazzling flare seemed to sear his vision, his veins boiling as if filled with molten lava. “Prepare for battle!!” Using all his strength, he roared and then drove his body toward the nearest shelter. He would never admit defeat to the Torch! Never! Almost the moment he leapt into an artillery shelter, a hail of artillery from the sky bombarded the mountaintop, the searing shock wave wrapped in thick smoke sweeping across the battlefield in an instant! “Boom!!!” The boiling flames surged like an eruption, leaving scorched earth in their wake! Mud and debris rushed into the shelter’s entrance, nearly burying Baskin alive inside. But he was among the fortunate ones. Those apostles near the impact zone, especially those who failed to reach the shelters in time, were obliterated by the devastating blaze, not even leaving a trace behind! Baskin struggled to push the rubble and mud off him, crawling out of the artillery shelter with horror reflected in his eyes, watching his surroundings. And then, the scene that would haunt him forever unfolded before his despair-filled eyes. “Ugh—!!!” A dense firestorm cloaked the sky, howling rockets forming a network in the sky. The buzzing alarms dominated the battlefield, even drowning out the sound of explosions. Neither mechanical exoskeletons nor power armor stood a chance against the apocalyptic firepower. Barely emerging from the bunker, Baskin was instantly struck by a concussive wave, collapsing back into the trench in a daze. Clearly, the Alliance, like them, had treated this battle as the final confrontation, showing no restraint in ammunition expenditure, nor any intention to hold back. As rocket trails screamed above, W-2 ground attack aircraft descended like locusts, their cannon fire continually hammering, raining waves of bullets onto the battlefield freshly tilled by artillery. The Inquisition’s adjudicators were utterly stunned. Even “Iron Edge” knights stood no chance under such fierce firepower, cowering, pleading for mercy. Even the mutants, ignorant of death, howled in terror under the artillery onslaught. “Roar—!” An injured mutant struggled from a trench, shaking a shotgun skyward, firing desperately at the aircraft swarming the sky. It tried to take down those planes, but not even a shadow was within its grasp. The futile rage only accentuated its foolishness, turning it into a spectacle. Then, as the distant artillery fire subsided, gunfire permeated from all directions, encircling Rosong Mountains. The massive figures in K-10 “Iron Wall” exoskeletons initiated the assault first. Holding exploder guns in one hand and chainsaws in the other, they charged uphill like an inverse torrent. Finally seeing the enemy, the dazed mutants charged, hoping to use rifles and clubs to leave a lasting impact on their adversary. Yet they could hardly close in on those hulking figures before being blasted into fragments and gore by the roaring exploder guns, collapsing in dark mud. Nonetheless, the mutants had the advantage in numbers, some even breaching the dense fire network thanks to bio-engineered bodies and ballistic armor. One mutant finally reached the heavily armed giants. Yet, before it could swing its battle axe with a howl, it was sawed in half at the waist by an oncoming chainsaw. “Madness! Utter madness!! Hahaha!!!” In a frenzy, Midnight Slaughter Chicken roared, drenched in pouring blood. Seeing the demonic figure, the nearby mutants were terrified, momentarily forgetting who was predator and who was prey. Fear wasn’t limited to the mutants; the adjudicators and apostles from the Inquisition, even all, exhibited terror, dreading the approach of such a harbinger of doom. Watching as the figure strode forward, Baskin swallowed hard, feeling increasingly weak in the knees. Even in power armor, the heavy steel offered him no comfort. Midnight Slaughter Chicken halted his steps, looking down at the figure half-buried in the artillery trench, a cruel grin spreading across his face. “You should surrender.” Though the man wore power armor, Midnight Slaughter Chicken sensed no threat from him. Too weak. This guy wasn’t even an awakened one and probably hadn’t even undergone genetic modification. Hearing the word "surrender," Baskin felt his blood rush to his head, a wave of indignation boiling with humiliation. Surrender… Never! “Go to hell!” He struggled to climb out of the trench, pulling out the large-caliber assault rifle from his power armor, glaring fiercely at the chainsaw-wielding man, and roared as he pulled the trigger. Bullets rained toward the hefty figure, seemingly about to hit their mark. But just as success seemed within reach, something inexplicable blurred before his eyes. So fast!!! The speed defied his understanding of human capability, too quick for him to catch that flashing shadow. The roaring chainsaw struck his shoulder plate within an instant, knocking the air out of his lungs. “Ah—!” Barely managing a short scream, Baskin felt his upper body lift off the ground, before crashing heavily back to the earth. In his last breath of consciousness, he saw what remained of him standing motionless, a fountain of blood jetting from above the shoulders. The chainsaw-wielding figure strode past him without a glance. “Too weak.” That mocking voice plunged his remaining awareness into the depths, utterly shattering the last shred of resistance the Torch Church held. Under the artillery's cover, the Jungle Corps stormed up the mountain as a branding iron through snow, indiscriminately piercing through the Torch Church's line. The positions on Rosong Mountain visibly crumbled, trenches turning into rivers of blood. This wasn’t a battle; it was a one-sided massacre! Neither Torch Apostles nor mutants could escape. Having chosen resistance to the bitter end, the Alliance delivered relentless and impartial death to all. On the bridge of the Steelheart, Chu Guang stood by the window, overlooking the battlefield without a flicker of emotion. Beside him, Vanus lowered his binoculars and spoke slowly. "This mountain seems to be the Torch's last stand... It looks like you'll be able to declare victory before the sun sets today." “Hmm.” Chu Guang nodded, his thoughts already drifting beyond the battlefield. For him, this was a foregone conclusion, not worth mentioning. In fact, victory had already been certain few days earlier; this was merely the cleanup. Suddenly, a thought crossed Chu Guang’s mind, and he spoke. “After this war, I plan to visit the southern islands.” Vanus was momentarily taken aback, puzzled by the manager’s sudden mention of the southern islands. However, there must have been a reason behind it, one unknown to him. Without overthinking, Vanus nodded respectfully, flowing with the decision. “I’ll accompany you.” To be continued...