Chapter 705.3: Elite Troops?!

“All units, attention!”

“Advance past the lines! Everyone, keep pushing forward! Free fire! Don’t conserve ammo, beat the hell out of them! Empty your magazines before you come back!”

Excited shouts answered him.

“Roger!”

“Let’s go, brothers!”

“For the New Alliance!”

“Awoooo!”

With the attack order given, the Emperor Crabs immediately flung their crab legs into motion, charging forward under infantry cover, crashing through everything and surging ahead.

Everyone had gone blood-red with killing intent, especially the intelligence type players riding inside the bellies of the mechanical crabs. Almost every one of them already had a three-digit kill count.

Quadrotor drones flying ahead provided a top-down view. All they had to do was pull the trigger wherever there were people.

20mm armor-piercing incendiary rounds paired with high-explosive shells didn’t even require aiming. All they had to do was charge forward and fire.

Soldiers of the Xilande Empire trapped in the alleys were battered into disarray. At first, they could still see where the tracer fire was coming from. Later on, they couldn’t even see the enemy before being pinned flat to the ground.

“Hahahaha! My Urgot is going absolutely wild!”

Hearing the cackling over the squad channel, several players advancing alongside him cast envious looks at the guy sticking his butt out.

“Damn it, get down and let me play for a bit!”

The intelligence type player rolled his eyes. “Get lost! You think you can just flash and hop in? I trained for days back in Dawn City for this!”

As they were talking, an RPG suddenly shot out from a nearby alley, striking one of the mechanical legs dead-on.

Perhaps the asshole driving it was showing off too hard, so much so that even the heavens couldn’t stand it. The jet of molten metal pierced straight through the leg’s power assembly. The crab’s body lurched, lost balance, and smashed down a nearby mud house.

The soldier with the rocket launcher was quickly riddled with bullets, but the giant crab lying in the rubble swayed like it was drunk, unable to get back up. After all, it was a prototype fresh out of the lab. Its overly avant-garde design came with too many uncertainties.

Even though tests showed it could still move with three legs blown off, the complexity of the battlefield was another matter entirely.

Seeing soldiers charging over, the intelligence type player who had been showing off a moment earlier shouted in panic, “Holy shit! Sons, get over here and guard your daddy!”

The players who had been setting up firing positions for him all twitched at the corners of their mouths when they heard that.

Mother fu...!

For a moment, they all suddenly felt like testing just how tough that armor really was with their own guns.

...

On the other side, along the north wall of the Governor’s Manor.

Watching the soldiers of the Gray Wolf Army ebb away like a receding tide, the player manning the machine gun simply flipped the safety on and muttered irritably, “Damn, these guys are way too fragile.”

When they’d heard the enemy had over 5,000 men, almost everyone expected a brutal fight. No one thought these so-called elite mobs would be so underwhelming.

Still, it was clear they had tried their best.

Correction shells had kept landing near the Governor’s Manor, but before long they were beaten back by New Alliance counter-battery fire.

They tried to use human-wave tactics to break through the manor’s machine-gun fire, only to be pinned down hard by a few heavy machine guns.

Normally, with casualties mounting and no progress at all, a frontline commander should have had the sense to realize the tactic was flawed.

If support fire couldn’t be brought in, then push the guns to the front for direct fire, or dig more trenches and build more machine-gun positions. Even turning a blitz assault into a drawn-out war of attrition would be better than forcing soldiers to charge forward without artillery cover.

But they did none of that, acting as if they were in a hurry to reincarnate, desperate to force a result as fast as possible.

Not only the player behind the machine gun couldn’t understand it. Even Free Sniper, guarding inside the Governor’s Manor, couldn’t figure out whether these guys were here to fight a war or fertilize the ground...

...

Elsewhere, at the port of Port Gallon, the temporary command center was in chaos. Battle reports from the front poured in like snowflakes, and the command channel was a nonstop din.

“... This is the Governor’s Manor. Enemy frontline forces have collapsed! Do we keep holding here, or pursue?”

“This is Third Company! We’ve engaged enemy reinforcements! No armored units spotted, only limited anti-tank weapons... likely one battalion, possibly two. We’re planning to empty our ammo before returning.”

“... Damn it, we’ve got an idiot here! One Urgot lost a leg! Coordinates updated on the map. Request immediate support!”

“How many times do I have to say it, stop giving equipment nicknames! Use the official designation!”

“This is Fourth Company. We’ve dispatched a squad to reinforce you. Hold on!”

“I’m starving. When do we get to eat?”

“Anyone at the port? Ask the logistics NPC if we can add a dish.”

“... Enemy reinforcements routed! Hell, these animals ran faster than my six legs! Fourth Company doesn’t need to come, later we’ll grab a few locals to help drag that unlucky bastard back!”

“Son of a...!”

“Holy shit, what are your strength type fools even doing? You need to hire people for this?!”

“This is the Governor’s Manor. Our recon team observed the Gray Wolf Army regrouping toward the Kalaba Market! Target is five kilometers north of the Governor’s Manor. They appear to be reorganizing. Estimated 2,000 to 3,000 troops remaining.”

Although the communication channel was noisy, the feedback on the frontline situation was fairly clear. Ample Time had already grasped the overall picture.

After all, even if the situation were a bit urgent, or even complex, those animals wouldn’t be joking around in the command channel.

Old White looked at Ample Time and said casually, “So, what do you think? Do we just eat those troops up? Or do you think we s hould hand them over to the rookies at Rowell Camp? It’s your call.”

Nearly 20,000 slaves had already undergone basic training. At the very least, they knew how to fire, when to fire, and how to seize objectives and advance.

Expecting them to defeat a well-trained army head-on was wishful thinking, but as cannon fodder to mop up a routed force under New Alliance artillery support shouldn’t be a problem.

At the very least, it was worth a try.

But unlike Old White, Ample Time wasn’t focused on the troops retreating toward Kalaba Market. His gaze was fixed on the lines of trenches outside the settlement.

“... Do you think there might be a big shot from the Xilande Empire among those retreating?” he suddenly asked.

Old White hesitated slightly and frowned. “Why do you say that?”

“It’s a hunch.” Staring intently at the strategic map spread across the holographic screen, Ample Time pinched his chin between thumb and forefinger, lost in thought.

According to intelligence observed by the scouts under Peepo, the Gray Wolf Army stationed outside the settlement had begun new movements.

Though it was unclear why General Alyang had made such a series of blunders, he had clearly noticed the trouble facing his allies and was trying to make amends.

Another troop was assembling in batches toward the positions outside the settlement, seemingly intending to receive the routed frontline forces.

At that moment, a bold idea suddenly formed in Ample Time’s mind. “An identity even the Gray Wolf Army’s commander is wary of... what do you think it could be?”

Old White thought for a moment, then answered uncertainly, “Do you think he could be royalty?”

He wasn’t very familiar with the organizational structure of the Xilande Empire. After all, the strange survivor power was unlike anything they had encountered before.

But if the so-called elites of the Gray Wolf Army was directly subordinate to the emperor, then someone who could make the “commander of the imperial guards” nervous was clearly no trivial figure.

Even if just for appearances, Alyang would have to try to rescue them, at least enough that the person, or the power behind them, couldn’t find fault with him.

Perhaps Alyang himself didn’t actually care whether the bastard lived or died, but that was precisely something they could exploit...

Realizing Ample Time’s plan, Old White looked at him in surprise. “You’re thinking of encircling the point and hitting the reinforcements?”

“That’s exactly what I’m thinking, but it depends on whether they give us the chance. These guys have been defying our expectations from the start. I seriously suspect this time will be no different...”

As he said this, Ample Time paused, raised a hand to his ear, and issued an order to Peepo, who was stationed at Rowell Camp.

“Notify Laxi, tell him it’s time to get to work.”

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