Chapter 728.2: Battle For Ten Peaks Mountain!

Gripping his shotgun, Gary charged forward at the front of the formation. His steel feet pounded deep footprints into the ground.

Inspired by his roar, the stunned Mutant Humans shook their heads and regained their senses. Bloody hands reached down to reclaim fallen rifles. Soon, they launched another charge toward the train and the advancing Death Corps, crossing the nearly dried-up riverbed.

The next moment, the beasts who reached the northern bank witnessed a sight they would never forget.

Deathclaws.

There were dozens upon dozens of them and they thundered across the earth with swift and powerful strides.

The dust kicked up by their massive hind legs formed a rolling tidal wave across the horizon.

The Mutant Humans who had just regained their courage felt terror twist their faces once again but before they could react, streams of orange tracers descended upon them like swarms of locusts.

Although 20mm armor-piercing incendiary rounds lacked the brutality of 19mm explosive shells, flesh and blood remained utterly incapable of resisting them.

Mutant Humans struck by the rounds screamed and collapsed. Some staggered back to their feet only to be trampled into the muddy riverbank moments later.

Relying on battle instinct, Gary dodged incoming rounds and sprinted forward. His shotgun spat fire continuously as he roared in rage.

"Die!"

"All of you, die!"

His gunfire and roars were deafening. Yet against the earth-shaking thunder of the charge, they sounded strangely insignificant.

The rumbling of countless beasts grew closer and when his eyes finally met those amber pupils, a coldness deeper than the marrow of his bones seized him.

Deathclaws! His enemies were riding Deathclaws!

He hadn't been able to see clearly when they were on the train and assumed there were only humans on those cars. Never had he imagined the humans had tamed such terrifying creatures.

There was no time to dodge.

Stuffing a rifle grenade into his shotgun, he fired directly at the nearest Deathclaw.

The grenade flew straight toward the beast's head, but another Deathclaw beside it casually bit the side of the projectile, twisted its neck, and flung it away.

The grenade exploded midair and fragments flew more than ten meters and rattled harmlessly against the exoskeleton armor.

Seeing the impossible scene playing out before him, Gary's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

Clearly, he had no idea what sort of absurd feats became possible when neural link technology was combined with Intelligence type players.

Looking directly at the mutant carrying the shotgun, Sideline Slacking remained completely unfazed. Riding his Deathclaw, he charged straight at him.

Gary felt a powerful gust of wind and the next moment, his three meter tall body was launched backward as though struck by a train.

"AAAAAH!"

Before the scream could even leave his throat, the triangular bayonet mounted beneath the cavalry lance pierced straight through his chest. His body was lifted into the air like a rag doll.

Gary felt like a rag being tossed aside. Before he even hit the ground, he saw a gigantic maw closing around him.

In an instant, his consciousness ended.

CRUNCH!

His head burst like an overripe tomato. Red and white matter sprayed from the Deathclaw's jaws as the Mutant Humans across the battlefield stood frozen in horror.

They watched their leader, a warrior they regarded as unstoppable, reduced to a pile of mangled meat like a grasshopper crushed beneath a wagon wheel.

At last, fear overwhelmed them. The fragile morale they had recovered shattered completely.

Driven by survival instinct, the Mutant Humans scattered in all directions. What they failed to realize was how foolish it was to flee from cavalry by breaking formation.

Especially against cavalry mounted not on horses, but on the fastest predators in the wasteland.

Their terror only accelerated their destruction.

With exhilarated roars, the Deathclaws became even more savage under the stimulation of blood and slaughter. Hungry for flesh, they ran faster and harder.

Seeing the Mutant Humans flee, the players switched weapons. The 20mm cavalry lances were slung onto the Deathclaws' backs and in their place came Whirlwind grenade launchers their newest Guardian shotguns.

At that moment, the true bloodbath had only just begun.

Meanwhile, on the defensive lines outside the military base, soldiers of the Southern Construction Corps watched the battlefield in stunned silence.

Many of them had fought against the Tide. Some former Iron Tower members had personally battled Mutant Humans face-to-face.

Since joining the Southern Construction Corps, they had lived under the constant threat of Mutant Human attacks. Yet even they had never witnessed a spectacle like this.

The ferocious green-skinned giants looked like helpless chickens awaiting slaughter. The shelter residents riding Deathclaws chased them across the battlefield at will.

"Great Stag God above..." Bit swallowed hard as shock and disbelief flickered in his eyes. Compared to these people, their own stand against the Tide in the streets back then had practically been children playing in the sand...

And truthfully, it wasn't far from that. He had heard that the fighting in the north had been the truly brutal battle. Most of the pressure had been borne by Dawn City's forces, and it had been them who ultimately launched the assault on the Hive in the center of Clearspring City.

Li Jinrong, a former member of the Iron Tower organization, stood nearby with the same look of astonishment on his face. Especially when he saw the Mutant Humans turn and leap into the river in terror, his expression looked as though he had discovered something utterly unbelievable.

Mutant Humans could also feel afraid! They were not invincible! Faced with something even stronger, they would flee in terror just the same!

An invisible spark burned within his eyes.

There was still hope for his homeland!

...

The battle ended quickly, far more quickly than a certain observer had predicted. Forget two hours. Even half an hour wasn't needed before the Death Corps dumped the corpses of the Mutant Humans in the river. Any head that emerged above the water was immediately stabbed or blown apart.

Very few Mutant Humans managed to escape back to the southern bank. Those that did were run down by pursuing Deathclaws and had their throats torn out.

Crimson blood dyed the river red, while dark green corpses drifted downstream one after another.

Looking at the significantly narrower Guardian River, Sideline Slacking couldn't help clicking his tongue. "Looks like the Army's strength really isn't something to underestimate..."

The power of that single shell was almost comparable to an entire salvo of artillery! If a full bombardment had been launched, even a fortress like Bist Town probably wouldn’t be left standing.

Of course, logistics were another matter entirely. A five ton shell could probably only be transported by train or anti-gravity airship, and the resources and labor needed to manufacture one could probably build an entire Tank 2.

Part of that 902mm caliber represented genuine capability, though there was probably some showmanship involved as well. In any case, it was certainly far more expensive than sending clone infantry charging with bayonets...

"Mhm..."

Looking at the corpses scattered across the southern bank of the Guardian River, Construction Boy nodded solemnly.

Although the New Alliance of today was no longer the New Alliance of the past, they had to admit there was still a gap between them and the old powers that had been leading the world for a century and a half.

Achieving superiority in limited fields was already impressive. There was no need to feel inferior, but neither should they become blindly arrogant. The New Alliance's greatest trump card had never been caliber size, technology, or economic strength.

It was everyone who remained united.

Citizens of Ideal City willingly abandoned comfortable lives to become ordinary teachers in Dawn City. Researchers from the Academy willingly gave up their tickets to the future in order to help them start from scratch. Even many Wislanders who had once been their prisoners had abandoned the arrogance flowing through their veins and embraced a higher ideal.

He finally understood a little why the administrator had assigned those two guns to the Death Corps, and why he had chosen to use them in the very first battle.

They needed to understand their opponents, learn from them, and eventually surpass them, not become even more arrogant than their enemies.

A group of uniformed men approached from a nearby position. The man leading them stepped forward with admiration in his eyes and offered a military salute. "I am Li Jinrong."

Sideline Slacking remained seated atop his Deathclaw. The battle wasn't over yet. Looking at the man, he smiled and returned the salute by placing his fist over his chest. "I am Sideline Slacking, commander of the Death Corps."

Li Jinrong's eyes widened in surprise. The admiration on his face became even more obvious as he spoke in excitement, "I've heard of your deeds! I heard you've fought in more than a dozen battles of all sizes, always leading from the front, and every single time, you've returned safely!"

The excessive praise left Sideline Slacking feeling a little embarrassed.

Truth be told, he hadn't returned safely every time. Among all players, he actually died more often than most. His level was practically slipping out of the T1 bracket. Still, that wasn't the important part.

The important part was abiding by the rules of the Player’s Handbook!

Chuckling awkwardly, Sideline Slacking waved it off. "You're too kind. It's all thanks to technology. Technology... Just assume we've got cheats enabled."

Technology?

Cheats?

Li Jinrong froze for a moment, failing to understand. Still, he didn't dwell on it and simply smiled. "We've prepared accommodations for you. Please come with us and rest at the camp."

The Guardian Manor Plains had been constructed to house 100,000 personnel. Not only New Alliance forces but troops from all coalition members could be stationed there. Once Ten Peaks Mountain was secured, the stronghold would become the New Alliance’s primary land logistics hub.

Knowing reinforcements were arriving, they had already prepared bedding and food, simply waiting for the brothers from Dawn City to arrive.

Sideline Slacking laughed heartily but declined the offer. "No need. Our camp is on that mountain ahead."

He pointed toward the distant peak. "When you see our flag flying up there, send the supplies over."

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