Assault

"Why pick me?" Andrew looked at Daliwenluo, who was eating dinner across from him. The two shared a military tent, and just moments ago, Daliwenluo had delivered an order: Andrew had been selected for tomorrow's assault squad. The squad's casualty rate was extremely high. "Are you scared?" Daliwenluo scooped up some mush with his spoon and lifted it to his mouth, looking relaxed and even somewhat appreciative. When he was a child and cried to his mother that he was hungry, all he ever received was her disgusted glare, followed by: "You know how to be hungry, so why don't you know how to die?" He had learned to cook for himself at a very young age. No one taught him; mashing complex ingredients into a paste simply made them easier to cook thoroughly. Eating this in the military camp now felt a bit like reminiscing about his childhood. Yes, his childhood could actually be remembered now—because he had already strangled the mother in his life's traces with his own hands. "I'm not scared. I just want to know—was this specifically arranged by the Corps Commander?" Andrew knew his tentmate was no ordinary soldier. The way Daliwenluo interacted with Battalion Commander Ventura, how he could attend meetings in the Corps Commander's command tent... everything indicated he was one of Corps Commander Karen's inner circle. Daliwenluo smiled faintly and said, "Andrew, the world is vast. It might revolve around certain people, but it certainly doesn't revolve around you. What do you think you are?" His tone wasn't mocking, just a matter-of-fact statement, which only made the sting land all the harder. After finishing his portion, Daliwenluo didn't feel satisfied. He pulled Andrew's ration over and began digging into that as well. His roommate never lacked good food. Many soldiers had packed treats in their luggage when they arrived, logistics delivered letters and parcels, and during encampment, they could trade with members of the Church of the Desert or even locals for rations and necessities... Those with connections could live quite comfortably even in a military camp. Andrew had no connections, but he had two female companions. Posted in the archery and array battalions, they received plenty of gifts from male admirers and would bring them over to share with Andrew. Of course, their kindness toward him didn't come out of nowhere. Daliwenluo had heard Andrew mention that back when his squad was stranded in a desperate situation during a mission in an opened dimension, Andrew had given all his food to the two of them. If rescue hadn't arrived in time, he would have starved to death. "Really?" Andrew was still skeptical. "Yeah." "Then why did you pick me?" "Because I figured if the mission fails, our tent can just be cleared out completely—spares you the hassle of having to find another tentmate." "Heh heh heh..." Andrew chuckled. "I like that reason. Very convincing." Having finished eating, Daliwenluo picked up a handkerchief and wiped his mouth. "Get ready. You can go say goodbye to your former teammates." "Not going." Andrew shook his head. "If you die, you die. No need for goodbyes. We've all been through this." "Then get some rest early and save your strength." "There's something I want to ask you. What's your relationship with the Corps Commander, really?" "I am his follower. I believe in him." "I admit, from what I've seen lately, he does have immense personal charisma, and he truly can attract—" "Are you sure you know him?" "I..." "I appreciate the sharp edges you show sometimes. While they often seem foolish and arrogant, I can still smell the vitality of life in them. "However, do not attempt to describe the Corps Commander in front of me with anything other than praise, nor should you try to interpret him with your underdeveloped brain and immature perspective. "The gulf between you and him far exceeds the distance between a Corps Commander and a shieldbearer." Andrew stubbornly retorted, "The *Light of Order* states: 'Beneath Order, all are equal.'" Daliwenluo rolled his eyes and said something Andrew couldn't comprehend: "Indeed. *Beneath*." ... The next morning, an orderly bustle returned to the military camp. The purely defensive battle formation composed of shieldbearers, priests, and array masters marched out once more, moving at a slow crawl. Everything felt like a replay of yesterday. Daliwenluo looked up at the flock of falcon knights in the sky, and at the bone dragon flanked in their midst. He still remembered the last time he was in this desert—he had been hunting Karen down. Now, Karen had returned at the head of an entire corps, and Daliwenluo had become his subordinate. Daliwenluo didn't believe in so-called fate. It was just that the vast majority of people merely struggled in the sea before drowning, a small minority could find a reef to cling to, and then there were a rare few who could completely ignore the raging waves and stride across the surface of the swells. "What are you thinking about?" Madame Gandiluo's voice came from behind him. Daliwenluo turned his head, glanced at her, and replied, "Nothing much. Just daydreaming." Madame Gandiluo said, "Everyone is ready." Daliwenluo scanned the soldiers behind her. Including Andrew, there were ten assault squad members. Each of them had high-yield spell scrolls strapped to their bodies; when necessary, they would have to sacrifice themselves to create the conditions for their comrades to complete the mission. "Thank you for choosing me," Madame Gandiluo said. "You misunderstand. I simply thought you were suited for it. Nothing more." "Still, I truly needed this opportunity. Otherwise, my situation would remain rather awkward." "Try to take it in stride," Daliwenluo consoled her. After all, they were both people who had emerged from coffins. Madame Gandiluo gave a wry smile. "It's my own fault, heh." She had signed the letter of intent early on, yet dragged her feet about actually joining, dragging things out until she plummeted from an angel investor to someone desperately clinging on. Worst of all, she had failed to read the room until Karen sent someone with a message: *If you don't come now, don't bother coming at all.* Only then had she scuttled out of the undersea tomb with her tail between her legs and reported to Allen Manor. And Karen hadn't pretended to be magnanimous either. On the contrary, he wore his displeasure with her right on his face. Madame Gandiluo harbored no resentment over this; nor did she dare to. She could only admit that what had started as a wonderful position had been completely ruined by her own foolish hesitations. *Boom! Boom! Boom!* The earth trembled and the mountains shook as another volley of magic crystal cannons commenced. Aboard the bone dragon, Karen looked at Neo standing beside him. "Still twelve rounds?" Neo replied, "Of course. In the future, we can establish it as standard doctrine: call it the 'Karen Silva Munitions Standard.'" "I was in communication with Miguel yesterday." "Not the Whip-Wielder?" "Why would the Whip-Wielder directly interfere with a frontline commander?" "Heh, what did you tell the secretary?" "I described the enemy before us and the situation we're facing using a bit of exaggerated rhetoric." "The old routine—setting the stage first, eh?" "Not really for that. I simply want the Whip-Wielder to see me as 'mediocre and obedient' as much as possible. I don't want him to think I'm aggressively trying to expand our gains or competing with our sister units. That would give the Whip-Wielder the impression that things are slipping out of his control." "Oh, I see." Neo nodded. "When it comes to reading and handling people, you truly excel. But some things can't be hidden. Now that you're sitting in this position, you naturally want to keep the bigger picture in mind and contribute as much as possible to Order in this war." "A few more victories will take care of it. Our men will get used to it, the Whip-Wielder will get used to it, and the Whip of Order will get used to it. Once you earn the reputation of 'knowing how to wage war,' not even the Whip-Wielder can strip it away." "Karen, your appetite is growing larger by the day." "All of it is just to give Lord Rasma a pleasant surprise." The twelve rounds of fireworks concluded. The battle formation began advancing. Karen observed the scene below and remarked, "Much steadier than yesterday." "That's inevitable. The caliber of the troops speaks for itself, and commanders at every level followed my earlier requirements: after every engagement, lessons learned must be reviewed and summarized starting from the lowest-level combat squads, all the way up the chain of command." "Yes, I received quite a few last night and read them well into the late hours. Learning war through war—that is precisely why the High Priest decided to intervene in the desert war." "Tsk, tsk. Karen, you certainly know how to draft a report." Once the formation entered the core area of the grand canyon, the giant elders began shaking sandstone out of their bundles, kicking off the fortress construction plan once more. This time, however, as soon as they emptied their bundles, the giant elders shrank down and retreated back into the formation. At the same time, the defensive array within the battle formation expanded outward, shielding the giant elders on the outer perimeter who had not yet managed to unload their bundles. The canyon defenders launched their counterattack right on cue. Trapdoors in completely different locations from yesterday swung open, unleashing all manner of counteroffensive tactics. Once the harassment reached a certain intensity, enormous vines burst through the earth, violently crashing into the formation. Ventura raised his shield and shouted, "Hold the formation! Watch for gaps and plug them!" Mr. Aisen commanded his array masters with a grave expression: "Monitor the formation's status! Pay no heed to the direction of external attacks; focus on our own duties! Team Two, continue constructing the fortress! We need to force them to intensify their resistance!" Blanche shouted, "Stay focused! Maintain the blessing frequency!" Taking turns in sequence, all the priests channeled their spiritual power into the colossal priest phantom condensed overhead. Up to this point, despite the fierce and clamorous clash on the battlefield, the formation stood rock-solid. Even when a few giant elders were injured, they safely scrambled back within its protective perimeter. On the other side, the squad led by Daliwenluo had already infiltrated the periphery of the battlefield. His sapling pierced into the ground as he began sensing. Each time he pinpointed a direction, he relocated immediately, reaching the next vantage point and driving the sapling in again to continue sensing. He knew he had to move fast. Right now, his cousin's attention was fully focused on the battlefield; once his cousin pulled back his focus, he would quickly detect Daliwenluo's probing. Meanwhile, Madame Gandiluo continuously manipulated a crystal, wiping their group's presence from sight. In addition, everyone wore robes acquired from the reconnaissance squad that concealed aura, masking their presence to the greatest extent possible. Finally, the position was confirmed—at an edge along the northwest side of the canyon. This time, Daliwenluo did not rush over. Instead, he recited a string of numbers to Andrew behind him—the coordinate bearing. Andrew swiftly jotted them down onto black spell paper, conjuring seven or eight crows in succession that took flight toward the rear. ... "The roots have been found. Heh," Neo ordered. "Command the artillery battalion to designate this coordinate as an outer strike zone. Don't fire exclusively at this coordinate so we don't alert them, but have those three high-grade magic crystal cannons target right here. Drive the shells as deep as possible." Do everything possible to keep the enemy deceived for as long as possible. Let them think the pampered gentlemen of the Order special operations corps, swimming in supplies, were simply back at it with their wasteful fireworks display. Even if the command center's ceiling was bombarded this time, it had to seem like mere collateral damage rather than a pinpointed strike. Once the magic crystal cannons below roared to life again, Karen asked Neo, "Is this what your twelve rounds were setting up for?" Neo waved his hand and said, "You misunderstand. It's purely because, as a remnant of Light, I don't feel a shred of heartache wasting Order's shells." "Heh." Neo licked his lips and added, "To put it more poetically: every shell I conserve today might end up landing on the heads of us Light remnants tomorrow." ... The bombardment finally ceased. Daliwenluo's squad had remained at the edge of the blast zone the entire time, buried under sand and dirt. Only after the shelling stopped did they crawl out one by one. It was truly fortunate that Neo had spared no expense on costly magic crystal cannon shells during training, honing the gunners' accuracy to perfection. If any gunner had misaligned the coordinates and dropped a shell here, the assault squad would have gone to meet the God of Order en masse before even laying eyes on their target. In the distance, the stalemate between the formation and the defenders dragged on. Daliwenluo ordered, "Advance!" The squad moved toward the coordinates. The spot had been blasted into a massive crater. Sliding down the scorching walls of the crater, Daliwenluo was about to excavate further down with his sapling when Madame Gandiluo acted first, conjuring an enormous crystal that slammed downward like a drill. Seeing this, Daliwenluo couldn't help admiring, "Your efficiency is truly impressive." Madame Gandiluo reminded him, "If the mission succeeds and neither of us dies, remember to put that in the report." "Don't worry, I won't forget." The drill bored down rapidly. After a moment, Madame Gandiluo called out, "We've broken through!" Andrew took the lead, ripping open his robe to reveal high-explosive spell scrolls strapped to his body. Though these were meant only for critical moments, the gesture made it clear he had cast life and death aside for this mission. Seeing this, the other squad members tore open their robes as well. Andrew shouted, "Everyone! Even if we aren't qualified, and even if no bodies are left of us to enter there, nothing stops us from shouting: See you in the First Knight Order!" Together, they roared, "See you in the First Knight Order!" With that, Andrew leaped down first, and the rest followed in rapid succession. "Heh heh heh." Daliwenluo let out a soft laugh. This was precisely the vitality of life that he admired. Madame Gandiluo whispered, "Should we shout it too?" Daliwenluo replied, "We're already in it." ... Deep beneath the accumulated kitchen scraps, Philomena sensed the tremors. As she slowly floated upward, the chatter of the cooks in the kitchen reached her ears: "The Church of Order attacked again this morning." "Bombarding again. Dammit, they sure have plenty of ammunition." "Why are they the only ones shelling? Why aren't ours firing back?" "If we could take them in an open fight, would we need to hide underground?" *Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!* Suddenly, what had been mere mild vibrations erupted into violent shaking. This signaled that the bombardment had landed directly overhead. "Quick, into the reinforced passage!" The head chef immediately ordered his crew to follow him out. The reinforced passage had been specially constructed to withstand bombardments from the Church of Order. Reinforced materials made it far sturdier, whereas other areas risked collapsing and burying everyone under incoming artillery fire. Before long, the kitchen was deserted. Cooking duties would resume only after the shelling stopped. Philomena emerged from the waste pile. Hurried footsteps and frantic shouts echoed from outside, indicating that the latest barrage had thrown the area into turmoil. This was an ideal opportunity to strike. However, while she knew that the one named "Bilien" was an extremely valuable assassination target, having completely lost her bearings here, she wasn't sure she could find his location once she left the kitchen. After all, the subterranean tunnels branched in every direction like an anthill. Thus, Philomena decided to prepare two plans. First, she walked up to the large round cauldron overseen by the head chef and lifted the heavy lid. The magic crystal beneath continued radiating heat, simmering the scarlet dragon blood blended with various medicinal ingredients. This was something that "Lord Bilien" drank at least three times a day. If she failed to locate him for the kill outside, this would serve as her backup. Philomena produced a vial. It contained the standard poison issued to reconnaissance squads for suicide prior to capture. Naturally, it could also be used to poison an assassination target. Madame Tangli had provided her with the formula—colorless and odorless, blending seamlessly into dishes without a trace. Philomena pulled the stopper and poured the poison into the pot of broth, feeling quite pleased with her ingenuity. In her early years, she had only ever obeyed her grandmother's instructions. Later, she followed Karen's orders, and even upon arriving here, she carried out Purr's directives. This time, she had exercised her own initiative. However, while Madame Tangli was correct that the poison blended seamlessly into culinary dishes, that was strictly limited to normal food. The cauldron was brewing dragon blood combined with all sorts of alchemical agents, long beyond the realm of ordinary cuisine. Consequently, some ingredient reacted with the poison. In short, the broth, originally bright scarlet, turned pitch-black! Philomena: "..."