A "Reunion" After a Century and a Half

Upon an open expanse of wasteland stood an easily defended fortress. A network of tunnels spanning a total of 15.7 kilometers connected concrete bunkers and trenches, fully equipped with hemispherical rotating armored turrets, anti-aircraft positions, anti-tank positions, and heavy machine gun emplacements. This was the Legion's largest military base in Oasis 2, named Fort Horn, built by the Legion's previous supreme commander stationed in Sunset Province, General Klaas. It was boasted to be capable of garrisoning an army a million strong! To satisfy this fortress's immense logistical demands, General Klaas had not only arranged the construction of an aqueduct running from a nearby river embankment to the fortress, but had also built spacious six-lane highways on all four sides. Supplies shipped to Fort Horn could travel by water, by road, or by air via planes or airships. Should Oasis 2 ever face the threat of invasion, the troops stationed in this fortress and their stockpiled supplies could be transported to the front lines along the highways in the shortest possible time. Yet now... This fortress, once accessible from all directions, was blocked tight. The Alliance's Skeleton Corps had not launched a direct assault against the fortress; instead, they watched as the Legion forces retreated inside, and then severed the aqueduct leading into it. Ordinarily, a fortress of this scale would store supplies sufficient to sustain a million-strong army for more than three years. However, in Griffin's original plans, he had never imagined that this military base would one day be used as a defensive fortress. Furthermore, with the front-line battle growing desperate, most supplies had been sent forward, and the surplus production within the Falcon Kingdom was insufficient to complete the stocking of the fortress. This resulted in the fifty thousand troops who had retreated into the fortress having less than two months' worth of surplus food, while their fresh water supply hung by a thread. Yet that was not the most fatal problem. The truly fatal blow was the shortage of ammunition. The nearest William Industrial Zone had already been captured by the Alliance army, and supplies sent from the direction of Triumph City would likely never reach their hands. Aside from Griffin and those less-than-bright clones, any Wilante could feel that they were already standing on the edge of a precipice... "I heard the Judgment is here." "...Why the Judgment? Shouldn't they have sent an attack airship?" "I heard His Majesty the Marshal has no plans to deploy troops east of the Great Desert. The world across the sea, the Far North, and the southern wastes are all more important than land ten thousand li away. The last expedition was General Klaas acting on his own..." "How could this be..." "No wonder... we haven't seen any reinforcements arrive until now." Whispers among the soldiers could be heard everywhere throughout the barracks. Sitting at the entrance of a tent eating his boxed meal, Battlefield Guy made a quiet mental note, intending to post it on the forum later as today's bit of entertainment. These past few days, his job had been simple. It mainly consisted of marking supply locations within the fortress, waiting for bombs to drop from the sky, and then filing assessment reports on the results of the Goblin Corps' airstrikes. Pinpointing the warehouses storing materials was no easy feat, especially now with supplies critically low; scarce goods had been dispersed, and approaching nearby areas even slightly would get one stopped and interrogated. That was not something that could be smoothed over with a casual "Sorry, wrong turn." As a "non-Wilante," Battlefield Guy was well aware of his nose, and certainly wouldn't do anything so conspicuous. Besides, there was no need. If he couldn't find supply depots, finding canteens and mobile kitchens was easy enough. As long as he dropped a hundred-kilogram aerial bomb nearby while those Wilantes were eating, it was enough to blow pots, pans, and the entire queue sky-high. As for bomb damage assessment, that was even simpler. He didn't even need to confirm on site; just listening to the shouts and screams of the other Wilantes was enough to get the job done. Thanks to this, his Human Alliance language sounded more and more like the accent from west of the Great Desert. Lately, however, this trick was losing its charm. The frequent visits of Alliance aircraft made the Wilantes suspect there were reconnaissance drones filming from above. Not only did they sweep the skies with signal jammers every few days, but they also canceled communal dining, switching to "takeout delivery." God knew which genius came up with that idea. Even Battlefield Guy couldn't help giving the guy a thumbs-up... Sitting beside Battlefield Atmosphere Group, Penny looked rather worn, her brow etched with deep worry. Staring at the mess tin in her hands, she remained silent for a long time before suddenly speaking. "General Griffin was assassinated." Battlefield Guy, who was stuffing bread into his mouth, nearly choked, taking considerable effort to maintain his persona as a man of few words and ruthless deeds. "...Assassinated?!" "Mm... someone planted explosives under his chair. If he hadn't arrived a few minutes late this morning, the assassins from the Enterprise and the Alliance would have succeeded." Battlefield Guy thought to himself that it might not be the Alliance wanting him dead—at least the Administrator had never issued an order to assassinate the Legion's high command. "...Was the assassin caught?" "No." Penny took a deep breath, clutching her head in her hands, her fingers tangled in her hair as her lips moved in a hushed prayer. "...I hope nothing goes wrong." She wasn't worried about Griffin's safety, but about the future direction of this war. Because the upheaval in Falcon City had been so abrupt, she had been caught completely unprepared, with no time to leave the front line, and had no choice but to retreat here with the main force. *I just hope I'm not captured by the Alliance...* A military camp was inherently violent, especially on a front line so close to death. As a reporter for the Triumph Daily, she knew all too well what Wilantes did to other survivors on the front lines, and was not surprised by how deeply the Wilantes' enemies despised them. Wilantes who fell into native hands usually met no good end. She had seen photos from her colleagues... it was utterly brutal. Just thinking about it sent chills down her spine. Battlefield Guy had wanted to casually reassure her that being taken prisoner by the Alliance was nothing to worry about—the Alliance's discipline was far higher than the Legion's. In fact, never mind prisoners; he hadn't even touched the few slaves sent to his tent earlier, terrified of violating the rule in the Player Handbook regarding "coerced" relations. On second thought, however, he was an undercover operative, and singing the praises of the "enemy" seemed inappropriate. So the words changed on the tip of his tongue. "Don't worry. You have me." Flustered by the sudden reassurance, a blush crept onto Penny's cheeks, and the corners of her lips curved into an involuntary smile. This man was normally as quiet as a block of wood, yet he always caught her off guard with one or two lines that made her heart race. She had heard many similar words, and even prettier sweet nothings, but those men usually only paid lip service. Some would turn around right after swearing sickening vows of eternal love and duck straight into tents housing captive alien women... That never made her feel safe; it only disgusted her. Yet this man named Pangolin was entirely different. He was stronger than some Wilantes, yet possessed none of their arrogance, boorishness, or myriad bad habits. Just like his rustic name, smelling of the wild mountains, his heart was as pure as alpine snow. His life held only loyalty to His Majesty the Marshal, obedience to his superiors' commands, and the honor of a warrior. Even when everyone else was lost about the future and disheartened by their present plight, not a trace of dejection could be seen on his face. Even at this critical juncture on the verge of defeat, he could still say with effortless calm: "Don't worry. You have me." Only from his mouth did those words carry a sincerity free of any falsehood. "...Thank you. I'm very happy to hear that, but your sword belongs to His Majesty the Marshal; you must not hesitate on my account." Gently tossing her dark brown hair, Penny said with pride in her voice, "Wilantes are born warriors, men and women alike. I can look after myself." General Griffin had quite a reputation in Triumph City. No matter how bad things got, she felt they wouldn't get completely out of hand... Perhaps she was just overthinking. Battlefield Guy said nothing, only nodding, while his mind raced to digest the massive influx of information. *Griffin was assassinated?! What the hell is going on...* Right then, two figures approached from not far away. One of them was Korwei, and the other was Korwei's direct superior—and also Battlefield Guy's immediate superior after his transfer to the officer corps—the myriarch of the 5th Myriad, Weilichi. Approaching them, Weilichi looked at Penny sitting on the steps and spoke in a gentlemanly tone. "Pardon me, ma'am. I have some business to discuss with Pangolin. May I borrow him for a moment?" Penny stood up and offered a polite smile. "Not at all. Please, go ahead." Perhaps sensing that important matters were to be discussed, Penny did not linger and tactfully walked away. Weilichi watched Penny's departing back, then glanced around to ensure no one was nearby before turning to Korwei. "You tell him." "Yes, sir..." Korwei nodded with a complicated expression, then looked at Battlefield Atmosphere Group, who had stood up, and said hesitantly, "Let's talk inside." Battlefield Guy nodded and followed the two into the tent. He had no idea why a chiliarch and a myriarch would seek out a petty officer corps adviser like him, but from the expression on Korwei's face, he could tell something major was about to go down. And eight times out of ten, it had to do with him! "...What's going on?" Seeing Korwei remain silent for so long, Battlefield Guy took the initiative to ask. "This morning, General Griffin was assassinated during the morning briefing." Battlefield Guy held his breath for an instant. Seeing both men looking at him, his thoughts raced as he instantly put on a worried look. "I just heard... Is the general all right?" "He's fine," Korwei shook his head. Before Comrade Pangolin could feign a relieved "That's good," Korwei continued with a conflicted expression, "...but that's precisely the problem." Battlefield Guy: "...???" "Enough, let me do it." Seeing Korwei beating around the bush like an old nag, Weilichi couldn't wait any longer. Taking over, he stared at the taciturn native before him and continued, "I'll be blunt. Griffin has betrayed His Majesty the Marshal. The Judgment appearing on the front line is the best proof of that!" Battlefield Guy held his breath. He felt that drawing such a connection was a bit of a stretch, but considering these men's current predicament, he understood everything in an instant. Griffin's arbitrary obstinacy had driven these mid-level officers into a corner. Now, they were going to do the same... "...What do you need me to do?" Weilichi stared unblinkingly into his eyes. "I need to verify your loyalty to His Majesty the Marshal. Look into my eyes and tell me: are you loyal?" Loyal? You bet your ass! Still not realizing the gravity of the situation and thinking he had triggered a side quest, Battlefield Guy reflexively raised three fingers. "My loyalty to His Majesty the Marshal can be witnessed by the sun and the moon!" Korwei's gaze drifted to the side. "Very good," Weilichi nodded in satisfaction, looking at Pangolin as he continued, "Now, the time has come for you to show your devotion to His Majesty!" ... That night. The "Wasteland Online" forums. "Anyway... that's the long and short of it. The myriarch of the 5th Myriad wants me to off Griffin." Battlefield Atmosphere Group briefly recounted the events. Including the low morale in Fort Horn these past two days, the restlessness among the troops, Wilantes doubting their very existence under the relentless bombing, and so on. Tail: "Whoa! Boss fight time?!" Teng Teng: "Korwei... sob, damn it, I ship it." Battlefield Atmosphere Group: "Ship your head!!!" Ye Shi: "Exciting. (Funny)" Lao Bai: "Actually, wouldn't that be great? Whack Griffin, let his adjutant take over, and maybe they'll just wave the white flag and surrender. (Grin)" Battlefield Atmosphere Group: "Great my ass! The Administrator told me to go undercover in the Legion, not assassinate Griffin." Kuang Feng: "Yeah, true... If you could take Griffin out without anyone knowing, that'd be fine. But once you leave any loose ends, even if everyone thanks you, they'll still execute you on the spot." Elaina: "Not necessarily. Depending on the quest progress, Korwei might give you a chance to run. (Funny)" Battlefield Atmosphere Group: "Damn it! Then what about my power armor?" Ye Shi: "You'll have to ask that damn dev. (Funny)" WC Really Has Mosquitoes: "How about this: just send Griffin's schedule to us. We'll do it for you—one and done, problem solved. (Smirk)" Fang Chang: "Convenient as that is, it'll confirm Pangolin as a high-ranking spy beyond all doubt. (Side-eye)" Mole Escaping the Canyon: "The key question is whether Griffin's death actually benefits the Alliance." Fang Chang: "Rational analysis: those fifty thousand surrendering would naturally be the best outcome, but in terms of bargaining chips, fifty thousand troops cut off from food and water under siege are clearly worth far more than fifty thousand prisoners of war." Commander Spring: "+1. So for maximum benefit, if you plan to make a move, you'd better do it after the negotiations yield results. (Side-eye)" Battlefield Atmosphere Group: "I'm gonna lose my damn mind! T.T" Being an undercover agent was too damn hard! ... Chu Guang naturally saw the discussion on the forum, but he issued no new instructions to "Comrade Pangolin." At this stage, whether Griffin lived or died, the Alliance wouldn't lose; it was only a matter of how much they won. Thus, he gave Battlefield Atmosphere Group full autonomy. If he wanted to keep playing the undercover role, he could put some effort into continuing the act. If he didn't want to play it anymore, that was fine too; for a long time to come, large-scale military conflict between them and the Legion would be unlikely. Having supplied so much high-value intelligence, his undercover mission could already be considered a complete success. While Battlefield Guy was caught in a dilemma, the airship from Triumph City had already arrived at the western outskirts of Falcon City, anchoring barely twenty kilometers from the nearest river levee. The two airships confronted each other across the open sky. The atmosphere instantly bristled with tension! Gazing up at the colossal leviathan overhead, King Menggote prayed ceaselessly in his heart, hoping the thing wouldn't crash down. Or if it did crash, at least spare his castle. Fortunately, the scenario the old man feared did not occur; neither the Legion nor the Alliance fired the first shot. Clearly, it wasn't just him and the nobles beside him who had no desire to keep fighting; the Legion, far to the west of the Great Desert, didn't want to fight anymore either... Standing by the west gate of Falcon City with a group of players, Chu Guang narrowed his eyes slightly as he watched the lift slowly lower in the distance. "Looks like the Legion has a few tricks up its sleeve." Descending alongside the lift was a four-legged robot standing a full three stories tall. With its rectangular body and hoof-like feet, from a distance it looked like a mule with its head lowered, bearing a slight resemblance to the Imperial walkers from Star Wars. However, this thing was no mere transport. A 200mm cannon mounted atop its head gleamed chillingly under the blazing sun. Naturally, what drew even more attention was the smokestack dozens of centimeters wide. It was like a walking locomotive. The massive steel hull perfectly embodied the Wilantes' brutalist aesthetic of bigger-is-better. The towering smokestack belched black smoke, driving its powerful four limbs forward in a slow march. Primitive internal combustion power combined seamlessly with epoch-making avant-garde design, akin to surreal dieselpunk—every frame was a work of art. Unsurprisingly, it likely carried deflector shields and perhaps even anti-gravity devices, with the power source for these advanced systems presumably being precious nuclear fusion batteries... It was clear the Legion had indeed inherited quite a few artifacts from pre-war civilization. Even if only in spare parts. And this contraption gave Chu Guang a sense of déjà vu, as though it were a stripped-down, modified version of the "Titan" from Lost Valley. "Holy shit..." Staring at the behemoth, Ye Shi, clad in his Light Cavalry exoskeleton, couldn't help swallowing hard and muttering, "What the hell is that thing?" Compared to the players' astonishment, Count Cromwell's previously extinguished hopes flared anew with confidence in the Wilantes, his lips continuously murmuring: "A Bison! It's a Bison!" The "Bison" All-Terrain Armored Walker! A war monster powered by a hybrid of diesel and nuclear fusion! It was said that west of the Great Desert, this machine was known as the "four-legged railway gun." Equipped with an auto-loader, its 200mm cannon could madly unleash the firepower of an entire artillery battalion upon a target area within a single minute! It could serve not only as fire support but also replace tanks as the spearhead of an assault. The combination of deflector shields and aerospace alloys was sufficient to withstand any direct or indirect fire. If thousands of such land mechs attacked the Alliance simultaneously, backed by human-wave charges from clone armies... Every setback would be overturned! Count Cromwell's mind, however, evidently hadn't considered why only a single "Bison" had appeared here. Chu Guang knew. This governor from Triumph City was trying to intimidate him. To fit this monster onto the airship, the Legion must have stripped out at least twenty artillery pieces to make room. And to keep it firing at full tilt would probably require building an industrial park in the Great Desert first. So he wasn't flustered in the slightest, not taking the steel beast before him to heart at all. The four-legged robot advanced with heavy strides, halting less than five hundred meters from the river levee. It slowly bent its four legs forward, resting its boxy bulk down onto the weed-choked wheat field. Flanked by a squad of burly elite guards, a man with a prominent nasal bridge stepped out of the hatch and walked up to Chu Guang, stopping before him. "Are you the Alliance's Administrator?" Opening the visor of his power armor, Chu Guang looked at him and said, "And you are?" "Cohen," the man lifted his chin slightly, continuing, "Governor of Sunset Province, appointed by His Majesty the Marshal." A five-star myriarch was second in rank only to the Legate—below one, above tens of thousands. To rise any further, one had to leave Legion territory and conquer new lands for the empire. In truth, a five-star myriarch was already an acting Legate within the Legion. The reason Klaas had launched the eastern expedition was largely to take that final step and become the Legion's fifth Legate. Chu Guang looked Cohen up and down, then introduced himself concisely. "Chu Guang. Administrator of Shelter 404, and also Administrator of the Alliance." This five-star myriarch's personal strength wasn't particularly extraordinary, only on the level of an ordinary human. However, the twenty-odd Wilantes behind him were, without exception, powerful Awakened! By Shelter 404's metric, their levels were at least LV30, likely focused on muscle and reflex enhancements. The strongest among them might even be LV40! Of course, that was merely his intuition. Moreover, physical might didn't account for everything; green-skinned mutants were LV30 across the board, yet newbie players had beaten them into the dirt all the same. While Chu Guang was sizing up Cohen, Cohen was observing him in kind. Yet what baffled Cohen was that this legendary Alliance Administrator possessed personal strength not a shred weaker than the soldiers behind him. *Does the Alliance even have an Awakened as its Administrator?* Realizing this, Cohen felt deeply astonished. Although certain pharmaceuticals could force gene code potential out of untalented individuals to trigger artificial Awakening, practically no one in high office chose that path. There were plenty of ways to extend one's lifespan; there was no need to take such a route. Compared to the slight gain in longevity and physical capability, Awakening not only brought numerous side effects, but also uncontrollable genetic risks. No one knew what would happen once an Awakening reached 100%. That was a "Singularity" that even the Prosperity Era had failed to achieve. Concealing the disdain in his eyes, Cohen looked at this madman before him and remarked in a bantering tone: "...The Triumph Daily described you as a three-headed, six-armed beast. I didn't expect such a young fellow." Chu Guang smiled faintly. "'Young fellow' might be an exaggeration, but I'm certainly not as old as your Marshal." Cohen gave a dry chuckle, a chill rising in his eyes. Chu Guang looked back at him with a smile, his aura yielding not an inch. Standing nearby, the players watched the drama unfold while whispering over the comms about what level the boss was and what levels the elite mobs behind him had reached. Further back, King Menggote and the gaggle of nobles were sweating nervously, terrified that these two might suddenly exchange fire. The odds were small, but far from zero. Just then, flashes of blue light appeared in the distance. Escorted by ten Cloud Dragonfly ornithopters, two Orca transports flew toward them, one following the other. They had taken off from Bicester Town, originally intending to land in the square before the castle, but seeing the commotion here, they had veered over instead. Looking at those ten Cloud Dragonfly ornithopters, Chu Guang couldn't help smacking his lips in secret. *Well, well.* Throughout the entire war, the Enterprise hadn't even provided ten ornithopters in support! The moment they heard their old rivals from the west had arrived for ceasefire talks, these guys hauled out the treasures from the bottom of their stash! Still, this worked in the Alliance's favor. The more bargaining chips on their side of the table, the more the other side had to weigh the consequences of negotiations collapsing. Sure enough, a solemn look crossed Cohen's face. Especially upon seeing the Enterprise's Orca transports. "Plasma engines..." Those bastards on the East Coast had abandoned more advanced anti-gravity tech in favor of cheap, "outdated technology." It was hard not to see this as targeted specifically at the epoch-making weapons inherited by the Legion, such as the "phase cannons." It seemed the East Coast had never forgotten the events of a century and a half ago. Preaching about letting go of the past and facing the future, in their hearts they had always treated the Legion as their imaginary enemy. Cohen narrowed his eyes slightly, making no comment. Escorted by the ornithopters, the Orca transports landed smoothly in the golden wheat field, their pale blue plasma plumes tapering back alongside the conical nozzles. The hatch opened, and a squad of fully armed soldiers stepped out, accompanied by a middle-aged man. To Chu Guang's surprise, the arrival was not Yi Chuan, but Wu Changnian, Deputy Minister of the Comprehensive Management Department, who had previously welcomed the Alliance delegation in Ideal City! The middle-aged man had neatly parted hair swept back in a thirty-seventy split, dressed in a silver-gray changshan as pristine and flat as a mirror. Not a wrinkle could be seen on him from head to toe, nor was there any trace of the benevolent smile he wore before the cameras. From Ideal City to Qingquan City was over three thousand kilometers, and to here was no less than five thousand... Chu Guang calculated in his head; that was truly a long journey. Staring intently at Cohen standing nearby, Wu Changnian completely ignored the war machine and the airship in the distance, leading his soldiers over to stop near the group. "...I am Wu Changnian, Deputy Minister of the Comprehensive Management Department. On behalf of the Enterprise's Supreme Council, I lodge a solemn representation with you, demanding the immediate release of the Pioneer and all its crew!" "Otherwise, your actions will be deemed a provocation against the ancient covenant, and we will no longer hold back!" Facing the furious middle-aged man, Cohen remained unmoved. "You've captured quite a few of our people as well." Wu Changnian sneered rather than grew angry, letting out a dry chuckle. "Good that you know." Cohen's eyes narrowed into slits. The atmosphere between the two was like a gasoline barrel with floating matches; a single spark could ignite the entire wheat field. This bristling tension was even stronger than the previous standoff between the Legion and the Alliance! Chu Guang suddenly realized he had faded into the background. Neither Cohen nor Wu Changnian spared him a glance, staring fixedly at each other instead. Which was just as well. Chu Guang preferred that they never pay him any attention. Feuds and grievances from a century and a half ago had nothing to do with him, and he had zero interest in getting involved. He only wanted what belonged to him. And what belonged to everyone in the Alliance. Just then, another flash of light appeared from the northeast. Cohen frowned slightly, as did Wu Changnian, who had been glaring at him; both turned toward that direction in unison. A shuttle-shaped craft approached the edge of the river levee at nearly Mach 1. Two flashing arcs of electricity burst from its undercarriage, pulling it to an abrupt mid-air stop with incredible deceleration. Yet something seemed to malfunction. The shuttle failed to brake in time, plunging straight into the wheat field below, its rear end plowing directly into the earth. Fortunately, this was a wheat field outside the city; the soft soil and wheat stalks provided a cushion, sparing the craft from total destruction. The guards behind Cohen moved to shield him, but he raised a hand to stop them. "No need." The design of this aircraft... He found it rather familiar. As if confirming his suspicion, a door opened on the craft's side. A middle-aged man in a white uniform trimmed with blue held onto the doorframe, trying hard to maintain his composure as he stepped out. "*Ahem!* A bit late..." Behind him followed two bionic bodyguards. Distinctly different from the Enterprise's androids, both in appearance and aura, they were closer to pure tools—or rather, weapons. "And who are you?" Cohen asked with a frown. "I am Li Ke, B-Rank Researcher of the Academy. You must be the representative from the Legion?" A friendly smile appeared on Li Ke's face as he cleared his throat and continued, "Everyone has been fighting for so long; you must all be tired. Why don't we sit down and talk?" The scene fell dead silent. Or rather... It was more than a little awkward. Li Ke evidently felt it too, his eyes anxiously searching around the area. At last, he spotted the man in the blue power armor and immediately cast an imploring look his way. Chu Guang naturally saw the guy—after all, he had invited him—yet he still felt rather bewildered in his heart. He could understand why Li Ke hadn't made contact with Cohen yet; after all, Cohen had just arrived in Sunset Province and stepped off the airship. What he couldn't understand was why even the Enterprise people looked utterly dumbfounded by this guy's arrival, as if they hadn't expected it at all. In a flash, Chu Guang realized what had happened. *Could it be that Comrade Li Ke never even contacted the Enterprise?* *He just unilaterally reached out to Griffin on the front lines and to me...* Realizing this, Chu Guang was stunned. *Holy hell.* *Spending the least money to get the biggest results.* *This bro is truly a talent!* Recognizing the man's identity from the shuttle-shaped craft, Wu Changnian simply couldn't fathom why someone from the Academy was here. The Supreme Council hadn't deliberated on this matter, and he couldn't unilaterally decide their diplomatic posture toward the Academy on his own. So he gave a slight cough and said ambiguously: "The Academy... what a rare guest." Cohen's reaction, on the other hand, was entirely different—blunt to the point of outright hostility. Staring coldly at the B-Rank Researcher standing there with an awkward smile, he sneered mockingly: "Tired? Heh, do you take us for slugs born in a swamp?" "Whether we keep fighting or not is none of your damn business."