Chapter 707.2: The Ceasefire Line 100 Kilometers Away

Orders flowed from the battalions down to the companies. Soldiers hiding in shelters rushed into the trenches in groups of 10.

Steel-helmeted heads popped up like mines buried in earthen pits, with gleaming bayonets hidden beside them.

Therein lay the problem. The trenches had been dug too deep.

Not just one section, but the entire stretch of the frontline trenches across more than 10 kilometers was like that, with only a few artillery-blasted slopes providing access to the outside.

Even then, it was barely workable.

Previously, these trenches had been meant solely as cover to mitigate artillery damage. No one had ever imagined that the New Alliance would attack out of Port Gallon.

Because of that, no one had paid attention to this minor issue. In fact, they were quite satisfied with these free trenches. Now, however, nearly every soldier along the line faced an awkward reality. Even if they jumped, they couldn’t see anyone outside the trenches, let alone shoulder rifles and aim.

The machine-gun and field-gun positions were unaffected, since their emplacements had mostly been dug personally by combat engineers.

But that was precisely why every camouflaged position became a priority target for New Alliance support fire.

Almost at the same moment the routed troops fled the settlement, shrill whistling sounds cut through the air above the trenches.

Deafening explosions thundered across the positions. Shrapnel raged like a storm, instantly engulfing several emplacements that had been flashing muzzle fire.

Seeing the bombardment ahead, the routed troops outside the city wore expressions of despair, while the militia chasing them were filled with soaring morale.

The militia led by Laxi could see it, the despair raging in the minds of the routed troops. As it turned out, the people they had once feared were nothing more than a bunch of losers!

Laxi felt as if a fire were burning in his chest, just like the moment he had reached out and caught that pistol thrown into the crowd.

It was the fire of ambition!

A chance to become famous in a single battle lay right before him!

He would become a new legend, and not just in the eyes of the Moonfolk.

Those iron men had already paved every path for him. All he had to do now was charge forward. He would defeat the so-called invincible Gray Wolves!

“Charge with me, skin them alive! Show those beasts who belongs in a cage!”

He bellowed at the top of his lungs, eyes bloodshot with excitement, raising his LD-47 rifle and spraying bullets into the distance. He looked like someone pumped full of stimulants.

At his command, nearly 20,000 militiamen with white cloth wrapped around their arms charged toward the positions outside Port Gallon.

“Kill!”

The battle cries shook the heavens, blending with the roar of gunfire and artillery.

At the edge of the settlement, crouched inside an Emperor Crab, Prop Master looked toward the booming battlefield in the distance, a hint of envy on his face. “Damn... When do we get to do something this big?”

Beside him, Old Six replied, “Getting this many players together would be pretty hard.”

Prop Master chuckled, “Doesn’t have to be players.”

Old Six froze, staring at him. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

As the two chatted, Ample Time’s voice suddenly came through the communication channel. “... What are you two dawdling for? Our allies are already advancing, they need armored support now. Move it!”

Both men immediately sobered, replying in unison.

“Copy!”

At the same time the orders were issued from the temporary command post, the New Alliance forces scattered across the northern side of the settlement launched their assault.

Five Emperor Crab armored units roared forward at full power toward the positions of the Gray Wolf Army, firing as they advanced. Twin 20mm autocannons bellowed streams of thick tracer fire. Machine-gun and field-gun emplacements were picked off one by one, each burst unleashing a storm of blood.

It wasn’t just the Emperor Crabs. The New Alliance monsters advancing alongside them outmatched the Gray Wolves in mobility, firepower, and protection by more than an order of magnitude.

As for the members of the Burning Corps themselves, it went without saying their combat strength was god knows how many times stronger than the fleeing soldiers of the empire.

Everyone who was sent was at least a second stage awakener!

Buried in their trenches, the Gray Wolves could only watch helplessly as their firepoints were dismantled one after another without infantry cover. The rifles clutched in their hands were like fire pokers, utterly incapable of threatening the charging mass.

Some struggled out of the trenches and tried to counterattack with bazookas, but at nearly 200 meters, the distance was clearly beyond the effective range.

Occasionally a rocket streaked out from beside a trench, hitting nothing at all, while the soldier carrying the launcher immediately became a priority target.

The concentrated gunfire pinned the soldiers of the Gray Wolf Army who tried to crawl out of cover to return fire flat against the ground, while the continuous artillery barrage suppressed the rear support so thoroughly that they couldn’t even raise their heads.

Standing in the observation post, Manu’s eyes were bloodshot, half with rage, half with terror.

The New Alliance’s armored monsters was terrifying, yes, but there were only five of them! As long as he could stop those charging cannon-fodder troops, the New Alliance’s force of fewer than 1,000 men could never break through his position!

What made him break into a cold sweat, however, was that the soldiers on the forward line looked as if their knees had been sawn off, one after another burying their heads in the trenches and refusing to come out.

Unable to watch any longer, he snatched up the radio on the console and roared at the commander directing the fight. “What the hell are your men doing?! Those animals are almost in your faces, and your men are still hiding in the trenches! Open fire, damn it!”

The din of artillery and gunfire crackled through the radio. The commander’s voice trembled. “Sir... my men say it’s not that they don’t want to fire, the trenches are too deep. They can’t see outside at all.”

Hearing that, Manu almost spat blood onto the radio and cursed out loud, “Why the hell didn’t you say so earlier?!”

By then, it was too late to say anything.

The artillery had fallen silent.

The cannon fodder that had burst out of the city, chasing the routed troops who had broken through, had already reached the foremost positions under his command.

At first, fierce firefights erupted on both sides. But after a few grenades exploded in the trenches, the soldiers of the Gray Wolf Army, who couldn’t even poke their heads out, quickly abandoned their futile struggle. Under the shouting and scolding of the cannon fodder, they tossed the useless sticks in their hands out of the trenches.

Cheers of victory rang across the battlefield and unfortunately for him, they were the enemy’s cheers.

The collapsing line gave way like an avalanche. Trench after trench fell like toppled dominoes, seized by the unstoppable cannon fodder.

Manu stared at the scene with his eyes bulging, the color draining from his face until his lips were paper white. He clenched the binoculars so hard he seemed ready to crush them.

He saw it with his own eyes.

The pride of the Xilande Empire were marched out of the trenches in batches, gun barrels pressed to the backs of their heads. His men were filthy and dejected with hands clasped over their heads.

Humiliation...

It was utter and absolute humiliation!

His troops were being captured en masse, by a ragtag cannon-fodder force that had only just been gathered!

Since the Gray Wolf Army was founded, nothing so absurd had ever happened!

Seeing the situation was beyond salvaging and knowing there was no chance of turning it around, Manu closed his eyes in despair.

At that moment, his adjutant burst into the observation post, panting hard. “Sir, New Alliance troops have charged up! If we don’t leave now, it’ll be too late, let’s withdraw!”

Manu opened his eyes. The murky pupils held none of their former vigor, as if he had aged decades in an instant.

“You go,” his voice trembled as he spoke.

The adjutant froze. “Then you...”

Before he could finish, his respected commander had already drawn his sidearm, pressed it under his chin, and answered with a click.

Bang!

Red and white splattered together across the camouflage netting covering the observation post, along with the glory he had accumulated over the past 40 years.

Losing a battle would not kill him. Being captured would not either. But he no longer had the cheek to live.

...

The fighting outside the Port Gallon finally came to an end.

During the battle, the Gray Wolf Army in the rear attempted several counterattacks and even deployed their limited motorized units and modified vehicles. But before the New Alliance’s mechanized forces, that junk wasn’t even worthy of being called toys.

Strength type players equipped with exoframes or exoskeletons could even fire 37mm Kontos heavy rifles that shot armor piercing rounds from a standing position.

In that sense, although they lacked the size and armor of tanks, they were little different from standard infantry fighting vehicles.

The Skeleton Corps’ Chimera had 37mm guns as well, and they even used the same ammunition.

After leaving nearly 1,000 corpses behind, the reinforcements rushing to the front were forced into a humiliating retreat. The battlefield thus presented an eerie scene, over 10,000 men being chased by fewer than a thousand, until support artillery from the Everflowing River bank finally opened fire and halted the pursuit.

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