Chapter 726.2: War Machine - ACTIVATE!

The Academy, meanwhile, delivered large numbers of autonomous combat drones and swarm missiles to Dawn City, compatible with neural interface systems.

With their donation, the Intelligence type players had new toys to play with.

And waiting alongside the weapons destined for the front were the players themselves, preparing to depart for the battlefield.

500 players from the Death Corps, clad in exoskeletons, sat astride Deathclaws that were outfitted with armored harnesses, bidding reluctant farewells to the fellow residents seeing them off.

At least, that's how it appeared to the wastelanders who couldn't understand Mandarin.

"Hahaha! Sucks to be you! I'm in the first wave!"

"Brother Sideline is a beast!"

"Guys! Spam some cheers for our commander! This guy is finally useful for once!"

"Hell yeah!"

The players gathered on the platform looked at those lucky bastards with naked envy, wishing they were the ones boarding the train.

Watching the smug expressions on their faces, Escaping Mole couldn't take it anymore and grumbled,

"Damn it, my Chimera is way more badass than these cannon fodder!"

The Skeleton Corps had led the assault during the Battle of the Brocade Lake Municipality. He had assumed there was no way they would miss out on the battle as well.

Instead, the Death Corps had stolen the spotlight.

Standing nearby, Toy Car Beta chimed in. "Exactly! Why the hell aren't we leading the charge?!"

Helicopter Shooke added, "There's definitely some shady backroom deal going on here."

Looking at the chorus of whining losers, Sideline Slacking, perched atop his Deathclaw, nearly laughed himself to death. He yelled at Escaping Mole, "Oh, give it a rest. I've got 500 armored Deathclaws under my command. They can climb mountains, cross forests, and wade through rivers. If we aren't going, who is? Can your Chimera even get over a ditch?"

Midnight Umbrella chimed in, "Exactly! Can your turret rotate faster than I can charge?"

Escaping Mole immediately fired back. "Come test it! We’ll fight at Camp 101’s arena! I'll be waiting!"

"You can go with yourself there." Sideline Slacking chuckled as he lowered his helmet visor and tightened his grip on the eager Deathclaw beneath him. "I'm heading to the front to collect some kills."

Eye Owe Money grinned mischievously. "Mole, take my advice. You're not built for this. Go back to making games. Fighting's a professional's job!"

His 100 or so sub-bodies weren't particularly useful, but they ate like monsters. Each one was fat as a pig, nearly driving him into poverty. Now that war had finally broken out, those sub-bodies could finally serve a purpose! Even if they couldn't hold the front line, hauling supplies or acting as forward observers would be useful enough.

Escaping Mole rolled his eyes. "Fuck you! Since when is fighting your profession? Don’t you only know how to feed your pets?"

Construction Boy burst out laughing. "Hahahahaha!"

Watching the chaotic crowd, Spring Water Commander crossed his arms and sighed helplessly. "I spent the whole night thinking about it and still can't figure out why the Storm Corps isn't leading the assault."

Battlefield Cheerleader nodded sympathetically. "Seriously... letting the unit with the highest casualty rate go first is ridiculous."

Standing nearby, Silver’s Father immediately took offense. "Have you considered how the Silver Corps feels hearing that?"

Battlefield Cheerleader froze. After a long pause, he remembered that Silver Corps also had a pretty horrific casualty rate. "Haha... sorry. I forgot."

Silver’s Father could only curse in response.

Amid the peaceful and utterly normal atmosphere, Sideline Slacking led his men onto the train bound for the Brocade River Province. They would travel to central Brocade River Province and rendezvous with the Southern Construction Corps that had been deployed there earlier in the year.

From there, they would launch an offensive from the northern edge of Torch Church-controlled territory, pushing the front line all the way to the border between the Brocade River Province and Ocean Edge Province.

At that point, reinforcements from the Army, Enterprise, and even the Academy would join them.

The administrator had only given them one instruction. They were to fight with the same vigor they had displayed in the Sunset Province and not let their allies look down on them.

...

The railway station wasn't the only place bustling with activity. The New Alliance airport was equally busy. At the far end of the runway sat a massive transport aircraft, fully loaded and ready for departure.

Its enormous fuselage resembled the wings of a mythical Roc. Four giant engines were firmly mounted beneath its wings like oversized feathers.

That was the New Alliance's first domestically designed and manufactured heavy transport aircraft. Called the H-10 Overlord.

It had been jointly designed by Factory 81 and the research and design department under the Scientific Expedition Team.

Originally, the Factory 81 players had wanted to call it the Great Roc since the thing was genuinely enormous. However, in consideration of those players who constantly confused reality with the game world, they eventually settled on a weapon codename not used in real life.

The aircraft's power storage system utilized fully solid-state hydrogen energy. Its propulsion system employed plasma engines similar to those used on the Orca transport aircraft.

Its maximum range reached 2,000 kilometers, slightly inferior to the Orca's 3,000 kilometer range.

However, its payload capacity was even higher. It could carry 150 tons. After all, it carried four engines. As the saying went, brute force worked wonders.

Truthfully, describing it as merely similar to the Orca was being modest. Ignoring differences in fuselage shape and engine appearance, it was essentially a knockoff version of the famous BelugaXL.

The only capabilities it lacked were variable-sweep wing maneuvering and switching between fixed-wing and vertical take off flight modes. To compensate for this limitation, Goblin Technology and the Scientific Expedition Team later developed a smaller aircraft capable of switching between both styles. That aircraft was called the Thunderbolt, but it wasn't deployed here at the moment.

As an enhanced version of the Lofty Cloud fighter, it also used plasma electric propulsion. Unlike the Overlord, however, its power source wasn't solid-state hydrogen. Instead, it relied on high-density nuclear fusion batteries similar to those used in exoframes.

The greatest advantage of plasma engines wasn't thrust or efficiency. It was the stable output of plasma exhaust.

Both controllability and stability vastly exceeded traditional chemical jet engines.

That gave players enormous freedom to implement designs that would be impossible, or prohibitively expensive, in reality.

Whether those ideas actually worked, however, could only be determined on the battlefield.

At that moment, ground service vehicles moved back and forth between warehouses and the runway, loading crates and bundles of supplies into the Overlord's rear cargo bay.

Once fully loaded, the cargo door slowly closed.

Chewing gum casually, their pigman, Unprofessional Retort, pushed the throttle forward with practiced ease as the aircraft accelerated down the runway. Four trails of blue plasma light streaked behind it as it climbed into the sky.

Although its route roughly matched that of the troop train heading south, its destination was not the Brocade River Province. Instead, it was headed toward the Baiyue Province, southwest of the Ocean Edge Province.

Near the military base northwest of French Fry Harbor was a two kilometer runway. Maintaining such a runway in the Baiyue Province was expensive.

But considering its strategic importance, Chu Guang had ultimately approved the expense and had local players build it.

After all, there was only one Heart of Steel. Relying on inflatable airships for wartime logistics was simply too slow.

The New Alliance intended to launch simultaneous offensives against Torch Church territory from both the north and south which made military deployments around French Fry Harbor essential.

Beside the runway, two Enterprise pilots watched the Overlord disappear into the distance. Their expressions were strangely complicated.

The more straightforward of the two finally voiced his thoughts. "Am I imagining things, or do those engines look suspiciously similar to ours?"

The other pilot hesitated before offering a vague answer. "Maybe... it's just your imagination."

Let's call it imagination.

After all, nobody held patents on the wasteland. Enterprise's engines had originally been copied from Prosperity Era spacecraft plasma thrusters.

The New Alliance possessed plenty of shelter residents. It wasn't particularly unreasonable for them to copy similar technology from spacecraft components. Besides, it wasn't the time to argue about intellectual property.

The New Alliance was still their ally and any disputes could wait until after the war.

...

North of Dawn City, inside a hotel near the Army’s diplomatic compound, the lobby was equally lively.

Naturally, everyone's discussion centered around the latest issue of the Survivor’s Daily.

That day’s edition featured two earth-shattering headlines. The first was the Mutant Slime Mold Research Committee’s declaration of war against the Torch Church. The second was the founding of the Southern Sea New Alliance.

Although the New Alliance rarely exported its ideology directly, the wasteland never lacked people eager to embrace the light. Rumor had it that the Southern Sea New Alliance's territory was actually larger than the New Alliance's. Its actual land area, however, was tiny.

Many Dawn City residents were less interested in its politics than in figuring out how so many people fit onto those little islands.

Still, compared to the Mutant Slime Mold Research Committee's declaration of war, the Southern Sea New Alliance wasn't the hottest topic.

Nothing had generated more discussion over the past four months than the Mutant Slime Mold Research Committee itself. And the survivors of Dawn City remembered Torch Church's atrocities all too well.

Many had survived the war with the Bonechewer Clan. Others were refugees from the Brocade River Province. Almost everyone hated the Torch Church with a passion.

Upon hearing that every member of the Mutant Slime Mold Research Committee had declared war against the Torch Church, people everywhere erupted in cheers.

"It's about damn time those bastards got what they deserve!" a drunken mercenary slammed his fist onto a table and shouted.

A merchant seated nearby spoke in a low voice. "I remember the Torch Church had a hand in the rise of the Bonechewer Clan. Those animals aren't even human..."

"I never expected the Wislanders to stand with us, though. They've done plenty of terrible things themselves."

"And what about those people from the Bugra Free State? They don't seem trustworthy either."

"Like the administrator said, they aren't saints. But our disagreements with them can wait. There are bigger problems to solve first."

The lobby buzzed with conversation.

No one noticed the man sitting quietly in the corner. That man was none other than Duke Garawa, ambassador of the Xilande Empire.

He had been recently discharged from the hospital and although doctors had advised him to avoid alcohol and newspapers, he had clearly ignored both recommendations.

A copy of the Survivor’s Daily sat stubbornly in his hands. Staring at the front-page headline, a sickly flush spread across his face. He muttered excitedly under his breath. "They've started fighting."

Finally, the New Alliance war machine was finally moving. Once it fully mobilized, it would inevitably have less attention to spare for the Poro Province.

Not only would the Empire gain precious breathing room, it might even seize the opportunity to reverse its decline and reclaim its former glory.

However... The Army was participating in the anti-Torch Church war as well. Rumor had it they had deployed troops directly from the Eastern Army.

As one of the Army’s most important allies, and a founding member of the Mutant Slime Mold Research Committee, Duke Garawa felt they ought to contribute something.

At the very least, they should remind the Army of the Xilande Empire's value. Besides, it was practically a risk-free investment.

The Torch Church had managed to antagonize three major powers simultaneously. At that point, not only were they doomed, but there probably wouldn't even be ashes left afterward.

And who knew? The Xilande Empire might even walk away with some spoils of war.

Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Duke Garawa made his decision. "... Have His Majesty send a token force."

At the very least, it would make for a nice gesture.

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