Chapter 857 - This Game Is Too Realistic

Chapter 857: Galloping Iron Horses! To the east of West Sail Port, a narrow creek stretches five meters across, cutting through an endless expanse of farmland. On the left lies a picturesque rural countryside, while on the right sits a chaotic scene of craters and smoke, making the entire landscape appear as if split into two distinct worlds by the stream. A bridge of steel and concrete connects paradise to hell. This was a bridge built by the Legion for the Empire. Now, a convoy of six-wheeled heavy trucks rumbles across that bridge, advancing in a grand procession towards the east under the numb gazes of the tenant farmers and serfs. This is the 30th Legion of the Southern Army. And among the few armored legions of the Southern Army. Carried on these trucks are not only armed soldiers and threatening artillery but also an array of gleaming "Conqueror Mark X" heavy tanks! This seemingly endless stream of iron has its sights set on the capital of Lion State, the mighty Lion City. Although Bolo State was not initially part of the first-phase plans of the Southern Army's offensive, plans rarely keep up with changes. The bombers from the Union Base in Niu State posed a significant threat to the supply line leading to the northern three states. Following the Legion's usual approach, they solve threats by addressing them directly, even if it means fighting on two fronts, smacking down both east and north. Thus, the day after Captain Autleiwubf occupied the northern Sulak County of Lion State, General Guliang deployed five divisions to the eastern line, led by Ryan, the captain of the 30th Legion, aiming to capture the entire Lion State and move even further east to Niu State. Intelligence indicated that Lion City was defended by a force of two hundred thousand troops assembled by Yudono! This represented nearly one-tenth of Bolo's military strength, yet Ryan dismissed it without concern. Rumor had it those two hundred thousand troops could barely muster twenty thousand rifles, with many being slaves and farmers forcefully conscripted by the Heavenly King Army, whose combat strength was lower than that of their clone cannon fodder. No matter how many of such troops there are, they are of no use. Merely twenty thousand livestock that may take a while to slaughter. Sitting in the command vehicle, the burly man sneered, a trace of mockery playing on his lips as he glanced over the military report. After a moment, he chuckled and turned the page, remarking. "…All because they caught a single Union spy, seeing how worked up these guys are." This man was Ryan, the captain of the 30th Legion, holding the rank of one-star captain. Seated beside him was his strategist, Feifret, a glasses-wearing man with high cheekbones. Watching his superior's disdainful expression, Feifret adjusted his glasses. "I heard that the fellow might even be a diplomatic officer from the Union, but his lips are sealed tight. No amount of torture from the interrogators could extract anything useful." Despite respecting such loyalty even in an enemy, he felt a sense of pity for this misplaced devotion. Watching his strategist with a pitiful expression, Ryan scoffed coldly and replied indifferently. "My view differs. Those guys are just wasting time. Isn't General Guliang's intent clear enough? If you can make a move, don't waste your breath." Feifret gave a resigned shrug. "True, but extracting useful intelligence from that prisoner wouldn't be too bad either. For instance… the specific deployment of the 'volunteers' from the Union would greatly aid our subsequent plans." While the resistance forces native to Bolo province were seldom taken seriously by Feifret and most Southern Army officers, the Union threat couldn't be ignored. Those people were truly formidable. And not just formidable—there were rumors that they could directly control clone soldiers, using complex equipment for combat. If these rumors were true, this battle might not be as easy as the main battle party envisaged. A legion of the "undying"... The thought alone was chilling. Unlike Feifret, who harbored concerns, Ryan wasn't worried and simply shrugged it off. "It doesn't matter whether we see their cards or not. This victory isn't uncertain for us… These enemies have been out of touch for so long, they fail to see the kind of livestock they're protecting." Setting foot on this land for the first time, Ryan felt the surviving locals were like maggots squirming in a pit. As a radical among the war faction, he despised all races outside of the Wellerens. Yet rarely did he disdain a group so profoundly, extending right to those like McLuran, who was lenient towards them. That guy wasn't lenient? Sub-Captain Ross couldn't see it, getting played round and round, but Ryan saw through it right away. At the shore, he was already blowing hot air, first claiming that killing them outright was too good for the locals and that torment by gray mercenaries was needed, then reversing his stance, suggesting they dig their pits when realizing the infeasibility. Toughness isn't boasted through words. Every seemingly tough stance of that guy was mere showboating, with each vicious-seeming idea eventually resulting in delays. Ross hadn't even realized he was being led on. They didn't need to heed the Eastern Legion's officers. He was dragged into a diplomatic spectacle until the Union's envoy arrived, followed by some drawn-out trial. There wasn't a need for negotiations; an outright massacre combined with sky-high demands would suffice. In Ryan's view, that twisted trial wasn't thorough enough, leading to the emergence of some family council, forcing another round of killing to quell the wriggling maggots finally. While dwelling on these thoughts, a deafening explosion abruptly echoed from the front, causing the carriage he sat in to tremble violently. Ryan's expression changed; he immediately grabbed the communicator and shouted. "What just happened up ahead?" An urgent voice came through the communication channel. "It's a landmine… Our mine-resistant vehicle triggered an anti-tank mine placed in the middle of the road. Fortunately, the mine exploded prematurely, and there were no casualties, General." Relieved to hear there were no casualties, Ryan grew more vigilant inside. Bolo had mined the route of their advance, clearly anticipating the Southern Army's movements. Narrowing his eyes slightly, Ryan ended the call and immediately contacted his first millenary. "…Rekton, dismount your troops and scout ahead of our convoy. We are nearing engagement." A prompt and crisp response came from the other end of the communication channel. "Yes, sir!" … At the same moment Ryan issued his order, dozens of Conqueror Mark V light tanks rolled off transport trucks. This armored unit, broken into company-sized arrowhead formations, raised a steel "umbrella" in front of the main force. Additionally, more than a dozen "Greyhound" reconnaissance vehicles, carrying scouting teams, cruised in front of the armored vanguard. These nimble, wheeled armored vehicles maneuvered like sled dogs, with antennas atop their turrets swaying like fishing rods, the short, stout 20mm barrels glinting with a deadly chill. Lying prone in the distant grass, Night Ten clicked his tongue at the menacing armored formation, muttering sotto voce. "Damn… Wasn't the main force of the Southern Army supposed to be artillery and infantry? There are more tanks here than that Griffin guy." Beside him, Gale merely hummed an acknowledgment, silently observing through his binoculars. Before the expansion pack commenced, the duo had already moved from the Ice City Special District of the Wandering Marsh to the Bolo Province. In fact, it wasn't just them—some academy NPCs had come over as well. That ancient covenant had ultimately been signed under the auspices of the Great Rift and the academy. If the Legion thought the only obstacles to eastern expansion were corporations and the Union, they were gravely mistaken. The northern escapees had never ceased meddling in wasteland affairs. Indeed, they were the zealous meddlers. While the corporate council debated budget hearings, the academy's research vessels had already crossed the Drobar Mountains south of the Sunset Province, set to stir up a storm. Even Night Ten wasn't clear on the specifics of what was being done—after all, his knowledge mostly came from Jiang Xuezhou, and being a low-level member, she naturally didn't have access to such information regarding secret agreements between the academy and the Union's higher-ups. In any case, these matters were beyond their concern. Once they rejoined their unit, the duo headed to the front lines by plane, parachuting into the western part of Lion State under the cover of night, tasked with reconnaissance and disrupting enemy supply lines. Such missions were nothing new to these veterans who had participated in the Battle of Sunset, evidenced by the anti-tank mine Night Ten had previously laid down. Although it was a pity they hadn't caught a big fish, only disabling a mine-resistant vehicle, they had still achieved their objective of slowing the Legion’s advance. Watching the massive convoy disappear into the distance, Gale lowered his binoculars and whispered, "… The Legion seems to have deployed at least five divisions this time. Lion City could be in danger." A bionic chip embedded in his cerebral cortex connected him to a high-altitude, cruising fixed-wing drone. While observing through binoculars, he was simultaneously surveying the ground via the drone's camera. Night Ten pondered over the map for a moment, muttering, "… Twenty thousand troops should hold out for a while, right? Especially with Brother Fang aiding them." Gale shook his head. "Hard to say… Over three hundred tanks alone just passed us with that armored division, more than all the tractors in Bolo State." And that's just counting the tanks, not including self-propelled artillery and reconnaissance vehicles from the support companies. Not to mention the air support. As these armored units roared onward, the "Horn" airship was also gradually advancing. But… As Night Ten mentioned, with Fang and his team assisting, even if they can't stop the Legion’s iron tide, they can still buy some time. … Meanwhile, as Night Ten and Gale were packing up to move, the 301st Millenary, led by Rekton, had already engaged Bolo's 3rd Legion! Learning from previous failures, Bolo's army no longer attempted to halt the Legion’s offensive with fortified positions. Instead, they adopted the Elephant Nation's "elastic defense" strategy, using small units to harass the armored spearhead of the Legion, followed by artillery to annihilate the stalled troops. This strategy could be effective, as the airships required a certain distance to fire safely, and even the Horn's powerful artillery couldn't risk friendly fire, at best countering Bolo's long-range artillery. As long as Bolo’s artillery was stationed far enough away, even if the Legion’s airships saw them, they could only watch in frustration. However, despite its potential, this strategy had a critical weakness—neither Abuzek nor the other officers from the Gray Wolf Army had any guerrilla warfare experience. Though Rasci had sent some Lunar resistance officers to assist, they were not trusted by Abuzek, serving only as advisors or trainers. This resulted in an awkward situation where anti-tank teams with RPGs and recoilless rifles were detected by nearby reconnaissance vehicles before they could approach Rekton’s millenary. Seeing his force exposed, the Bolo captain, albeit reluctantly, had no choice but to signal an attack. "Whistle—!" The sharp whistle pierced through the battlefield. Hearing the call to attack, soldiers in straw hats rose to a half-standing position from the grass, readying their RPGs for kneeling fire. "Open fire!!!" With a near-desperate shout, a decurion at the front line pulled the trigger. An RPG rocket, trailing a long plume, shot towards the reconnaissance vehicle a hundred meters away like a released crossbow bolt. However, to his despair, the recon vehicle easily evaded the incoming rocket with a simple acceleration. Not only did it miss the target, it didn't even graze the taillights! The muzzle flash exposed their location, and a volley of armor-piercing incendiary rounds quickly tore through them. So quick that the decurion didn’t have time for a last grunt before being shredded to pieces, with only half his body left dangling from the shrubbery. Seeing their leader fall in front of them, the soldiers were incited with rage. Undeterred by the gruesome sight, a soldier rushed forward to retrieve the fallen RPG and ammunition, while others fired their RPGs in a bid to avenge their officer. Rockets flew towards the Legion's reconnaissance vehicles. But the agile foes maintained too great a distance, causing many rockets to land off-target. Seeing the launchers poking from the grass, the Welleren centurion in the command vehicle chuckled, mocking before ordering over the radio. "The 'rats' showed themselves early, keep a safe distance, and open fire!" The crackle of static was followed by a response. "Received—!" Simultaneously with the order, the "Greyhound" recon vehicles maneuvered, unleashing torrents of firepower as they maintained a circling motion. "Bang bang bang—!" Booming gunfire echoed like a relentless drumbeat, with tracer rounds raining down like a sudden storm on the Bolo centuria huddled near the forest's edge. The soldiers stationed at the front were instantly torn into a mist of blood, and those positioned at the rear soon followed suit. There was no time to evade, no cover to hide behind. The exposed anti-tank soldiers were quickly shredded by the relentless barrage, along with the trees beside them. Witnessing his subordinates being cut down, the centurion with a whistle clenched in his mouth widened his eyes, fury and anguish burning within. In less than half a minute, familiar faces vanished, more than half gone. Overwhelmed by rage, he grabbed a recoilless rifle, slung it over his shoulder, and scrambled out of his cover. "We can’t let these big-nosed bastards through unscathed!" "Even in death! I’ll take one down!" But the recoilless rifle shell failed to connect. Almost immediately after he pulled the trigger, a volley of tracer rounds converged on his position, tearing him and the rifle he shouldered to shreds. His sacrifice, though, ignited a burning fury within the remaining soldiers. A boy of no more than fifteen or sixteen clenched his teeth, crawling through the hailstorm of fire until he reached a spot just within armor-penetrating range. Eyeing a scouting vehicle riding on the side, he propped his RPG on his back, prone, and pulled the trigger without hesitation. The backblast scorched his lower half, nearly knocking him out from the pain. But his targeted recon vehicle suffered worse, as the rocket hit square on its front. A searing jet of metal tore through the vehicle's front, instantly killing two crew members and critically injuring another, leaving the crippled scout vehicle stalled on the roadside. Just as the young soldier was about to cheer, an oncoming hail of bullets pinned him to the earth before he could utter a word. "Damn it! Die already, bastards!" With the comrade's vehicle immobilized, the Welleren observer under another recon vehicle's turret raged, his finger twitching on the firing trigger as if to snap it in rage. Amidst the clanging outside the armored hull, the driver yelled back. "Enough! Jimmy, that guy's done for! There's another up front, to our left!" "Roger that!" Teeth clenched, the observer redirected his wrath towards the next target, venting his fury through the muzzle's blaze. "Damn it! I’ll take you down with me!!!" With blood already spilled on both sides, neither showed signs of backing down. Yet despite the bloodshed, the outcome of this asymmetric battle was never in doubt. The arrival of a Conqueror Mark X heavy tank and a Conqueror Mark V light tank signaled the end for the guerilla force. Two deafening blasts echoed, and thick trees fell instantly like dominos. Soldiers nearby were concussed, organs displaced, leaving them utterly incapacitated. Over twenty Welleren soldiers, clad in exoskeletons, swiftly dismounted from their armored vehicles, splitting into two squads to sweep through the forest and eliminate the remaining Bolo troops. Fueled by vengeance for their fallen comrades, the furious Welleren soldiers had no intention of taking prisoners. They aimed to wound rather than kill immediately, intentionally targeting non-lethal areas. By a twist of fate, the Bolo soldiers shared the sentiment and had no intention of surrendering either. Having already lost over a hundred companions, a few more didn’t matter to them. Faced with the Welleren encirclement, they fought to the last moment with their less-than-elite weapons, only to be brutally killed by their captors. The Welleren soldiers, however, failed to realize that although these troops were still Bolo, they were not the same as those from the Western Lan Era. Despite their outdated gear, they had a newfound cohesion. Even when faced with seemingly hopeless odds, they no longer fled with their tails between their legs as before... The entire skirmish lasted merely fifteen minutes. Bolo's 3rd Legion's anti-tank centuria was wiped out to the last man, leaving no survivors! On the Welleren side, only one "Greyhound" reconnaissance vehicle was disabled, with two crew members killed. The critically injured radio operator was saved and evacuated back to West Sail Port for treatment, along with the disabled "Greyhound." The surprise armor-piercing round had only damaged the engine, sparing the fuel tank and ammo racks. After repairs and with a fresh crew, both the vehicle and the radio operator could soon rejoin the front line. The shrapnel removed from the radio operator would be crafted into an honor medal for his valor. The Southern Army would enhance him with prosthetics superior to the limbs he lost, ensuring his return to the revered battlefield once recovered. After assessing the frontline situation, Centurion Rekton's expression didn't change; he simply reported casualties to higher command and proceeded with tactical deployments as routine. A mere centuria wasn't even worth considering in his eyes—not even an obstruction on the path. Only a full-strength legion warranted his notice. The fifteen minutes delay by a centuria, and the loss of two men, made him think the reconnaissance centurion was an utter fool. Letting mere mice claim two lives? He might as well shoot himself and be done... Once regrouped, Rekton's armored millennia continued its advance towards Lion City. A dozen "Dagger" fighters escorted two reconnaissance planes, screaming overhead his armored column. Soon, intelligence from the air force indicated an enemy skirmish line ahead, scattered loosely with about ten thousand men and equipped with some anti-tank weapons. This troop likely comprised Bolo's elite, possibly accompanied by Union "volunteers." Upon receiving this intel, both Rear Captain Ryan and Frontline Centurion Rekton couldn’t help but smile cruelly. What’s one prisoner compared to the hundreds they might soon capture? Removing the radio from the turret, Rekton, suppressing the war thirst in his heart, delivered his orders in a powerful voice. "Attention all units! The main enemy force is five kilometers directly ahead!" "Engage enemies at will upon confirmation of hostile targets!" "Don’t bother with live captures unless they’re from the Union!" The communication channel echoed with a unified response. "Yes, sir!!!" The grinding tracks and roaring engines thundered across the plain. The armored units, like knights bracing for a charge, had unveiled their lances and swords. Yet, just four kilometers away, the woods remained eerily silent. Only upon close inspection could one see the armor concealed beneath the greenery. Leaning against a sturdy pine, Old Bai, who had been resting with his eyes shut, abruptly opened them, signaling to Fang Chang with a determined nod. "They're here." As he spoke, the visor of his power armor helmet sealed shut. Retrieving the "Dove" missile launcher from his back, Old Bai deftly loaded a round in mere seconds. Simultaneously, eyes throughout the forest blinked open. Armor that lay inert among the trees animated as if infused with spirits, coming to life like awakened heroic souls. From the previous morning, five hundred elite Burning Legion troops had parachuted sequentially into the area, efficiently consolidating. With half on alert and half on standby, they prepared for action. Sealing his exoskeleton helmet, Fang Chang tapped twice and switched the communication channel to all units, confidently announcing. "… The Southern Army's armored brigade is just ahead! These drunken fools have rushed forward, leaving their comrades behind, utterly disregarding us. Someone needs to sober them up!" "Prepare for battle, everyone!" "Unleash your full might and obliterate their armor!" "Break through them!" The resolve burning in their eyes matched the roar of the advancing armor. In the face of the rising dust, their defiant response echoed through the channel. "Charge!!!" To be continued…