Keep Your Kingdom of Heaven to Yourself

"...Holy Son above." Near an abandoned water tank just a few kilometers from the battlefield, a man dressed in hunting garb stood beside a rusted guardrail, binoculars in hand, staring dumbfounded at the wrecked battlefield in the distance, repeating that phrase over and over. He was a hunter from Hope Town, named Liu Youxiong. Earlier, when the mist rolled in, the town priest had murmured some cryptic, ominous words, so Mayor Ma sent him to Pinecone Wood Farm to check on the situation. Liu Youxiong hadn't dared slack off. Not only because this was the mayor's order, but even more because Priest Wei had said the Holy Son was furious and had brought down divine punishment upon the traitors and heretics who betrayed Torch. His heart had leaped into his throat, terrified that divine wrath might implicate his own family, yet anxious to know just what that divine punishment was. So he mounted his horse and galloped all the way. Just as he reached the halfway point, apocalyptic flames and thunderous roars spooked the horse beneath him, nearly pitching him headfirst onto the ground. Scrambling up in a hurry, he immediately sought higher ground and climbed the lone tower-style water tank standing beside an abandoned building. And then he witnessed what came next— With flames churning in his pupils alongside charred corpses, Liu Youxiong swallowed hard. Was this... The divine punishment wrought by the Holy Son? But— Hadn't it struck the wrong target? Burning in this hell were clearly those hideous beasts—the bloodthirsty, raw-meat-eating mutants living in the urban ruins. He remembered clearly that those man-eating monstrosities were hounds under the Holy Son's command. Then why— The warm wind blowing gently by parted the grayish-green smog, and also parted the confusion in his heart. Glancing past the smoke plumes piercing straight into the clouds, he saw a steel airship far off on the horizon, twinkling with pinpricks of fire. Soon, another salvo of artillery washed over the devastated wilderness like rapid drumbeats following a heavy hammer strike, clusters of sparkling flames engulfing the mutant forces. Now, no matter how devoutly he believed in the Holy Son's might, he could tell that this was no divine punishment from the Holy Son— It was the wrath of the Alliance's Administrator! *** "Roar—!" His provocation hurled back in his face without hesitation, surging fury twisted Kuru's face into a knot. Raising his halberd, a boiling bestial roar erupted from his throat. In the pitch-black mud across the field, muscle-bound mutant warriors scooped up their weapons and their hatred, howling as they charged toward that heavily armored human corps. If they were ordinary light infantry, even if they hadn't been blown to bits by the previous artillery barrage, they would have lost all combat capability. After all, this was open wilderness without any fortifications. And in the previous round of bombardment, the number of shells the Alliance delivered had surpassed the total headcount of this mutant force. Yet the blood coursing through the veins of those beasts was, after all, the pinnacle of biotechnology from the Prosperity Era. Even with limbs blown off, even scorched beyond recognition, even with ruptured hearts, severed arteries, and shrapnel lodged in their skulls... as long as they didn't die on the spot, they could claw their way back up from the black mud, even picking up their broken bones to fight as weapons. Those twisted faces, those bloodthirsty eyes, were like evil spirits crawling out of the abyss. Never mind fighting them. Anyone who could summon the courage to stand before this pack of beasts would already be considered exceptional among men. Unfortunately— The ones standing before them weren't normal humans at all. They were players. Facing that boiling roar and killing intent suffocating enough to stifle an ordinary man, all they thought was: *Damn, the devs really went all out!* "Holy shit... this is so damn thrilling!" A player clad in a K-10 "Iron Wall" heavy exoskeleton, holding an XB-1 "Howler" bolter, swallowed hard. Staring straight at the earth-shaking battle cries, not a shred of fear showed in his eyes; instead, they brimmed with excitement and soaring battle spirit. He had missed the last brawl against the mutants. This time, he finally made it! According to the corps commander, there was even a chance they'd get featured in the promotional trailer! Letting that surging battle intent burn in his chest, Midnight Chicken Slayer thrust forward the 19 mm bolter barrel welded to his arm. "Brothers!" No unnecessary monologue was needed— Against uncivilized beasts. Against the filthy bugs latched onto the back of civilization, sucking flesh and blood. There had only ever been one thing to do. Pulling the trigger, he bellowed with all his might: "Kill—!" Echoing that shout were blistering, fervent cries. "Kill!!!" "For the Alliance!" "Awooo!" That deafening roar seemed to shatter the drifting clouds above, instantly eclipsing the tidal wave of bestial howling. Over five hundred mutant warriors survived the artillery strike, but they were scattered across a front several kilometers wide. Though the Jungle Corps had deployed only one hundred and twenty men to the battlefield via helicopter, both their combat will and organizational coherence were at peak condition. The moment the beasts entered range, Midnight Chicken Slayer pulled the trigger first, and over a hundred players in heavy exoskeletons opened fire in succession. Orange-yellow tracers whipped freely across the battlefield, bursts of flame flashing constantly over the muddy expanse. Facing the sweeping bolter fire, mutants pressing forward while shooting collapsed one after another, but the frontline soon spread from directly ahead of the Jungle Corps to both flanks. These green-skinned brutes weren't truly brainless; they just usually couldn't be bothered to use their brains when brute force worked. Seeing the Alliance's firepower and heavy armor, Kuru immediately barked orders, commanding his lackeys to press forward at all costs and engage the human soldiers in melee. Based on his experience, once his warriors closed within ten paces, these two-legged brutes would lose their will to fight. And this battle would quickly become a one-sided massacre! The grayish-green smog provided cover for the mutant charge. Though they took continuous casualties, their running momentum didn't slow in the slightest. Moreover, the mutant unit the Jungle Corps faced this time was completely different from the group they had clashed with previously. Though all green-skinned brutes, most of these were cybernetically modified, and their weapons and equipment were far superior. Some carried heavy machine guns, some packed mortars on their backs, and others hauled wooden crates filled with grenades. Relying on their powerful muscles, they could unleash strength rivaling exoskeletons, hurling shot-put-like fragmentation shells over a hundred meters. Mutant soldiers converging from across the battlefield formed a giant bowl closing over the Alliance's narrow defensive position. Watching the frontline within arm's reach and those suits of steel armor, a sneer rose in Kuru's heart, his eyes glinting with bloodthirsty malice. He swore. He would kill the guy who provoked him in the cruelest way possible. The only thing that unsettled him was that, facing his unstoppable charge, the unit ahead showed no sign of retreating. What did these guys want to do? Did they really think a few sets of exoskeletons could stop them? Kuru felt a faint unease. These two-legged brutes seemed different from the ones elsewhere. However, there was no time for hesitation. On a battlefield where visibility was less than a dozen meters, both sides slammed into each other within a few breaths, plunging into brutal hand-to-hand combat across the soil plowed by artillery. "Die—!" A two-meter-tall mutant burst through the mist, the shotgun in its hands spitting an arc of sparks that slammed into the chest of the Alliance soldier in front of it. A thumb-sized lead slug punched a dent into the black breastplate. Yet the man who took the hit didn't even flinch. Raising his muzzle, he sent a 19 mm armor-piercing round back in return. This distance of barely ten meters was right on the bolter's minimum arming distance. The explosive round struck the mutant's shoulder, and a blazing metal jet erupted through its shoulder blade, scattering minced meat and bone fragments everywhere. The mutant's bloodshot eyes went wide, and without a sound, it collapsed to its knees. Looking at the kneeling brute, Model Prone Crawler smirked. "Fuck your mother! You're still too green to trade shots with me!" Unfortunately, he couldn't stay cool for more than three seconds. He was only halfway through posturing when three to five more mutants charged through the mud right at him. Calmly raising his muzzle and pulling the trigger, all he heard was a *click*. His brow twitched violently, and without hesitation, he dumped the bolter and drew the woodchopping axe mounted to his exoskeleton. Almost the moment he swung the axe, the nearest mutant was already upon him, wielding a long, thick chainsaw. A bloody scar was etched into its iron-plated skull, its contorted face dripping with ferocity—this guy was an elite mob: a cybernetic mutant! Dodging aside to avoid the howling lethal blow, hugging close to the chainsaw as it bit into the dirt, he took a practiced step forward, swinging the axe in an upward arc that chopped savagely into the mutant's flank. From the feedback in his palms, he could feel the crunch of flesh parting from bone; that hit had severed at least a few of the guy's bronchial tubes. "Roar—!" True to mutant resilience, the muscle-bound green brute let out a pained roar, its bulging eyes practically bleeding. Muscles swelling to the limit, it yanked the chainsaw from the ground and swung the grinding, churning chain toward the human warrior beside it. Yet that deadly follow-up strike was again ducked by the slippery bastard. "Is that all you got, bro?" The whirring chain scraped against his shoulder pauldron with a tooth-grinding screech. Though cold sweat broke out across his neck, Model Prone Crawler still sneered mockingly. Whether the mutant understood or not, he snatched an explosive round, jammed it into the iron clasp on the creature's chest, and slapped it hard with the flat of his axe. The moment the blunt side struck the primer, smoke burst forth, followed by dazzling sparks erupting from the tail of the explosive round. The mutant staggered back, reaching out to pull the scalding round pinned to its chest, but stepped onto a corpse that had fallen moments earlier. Losing balance, it fell backward, forfeiting its last chance at survival. "Bang—!" A scorching jet of molten metal tore through its chest and punched out through its scar-covered back, thrusting the burly frame upward in a violent spasm. Wiping blood from his visor, Model Prone Crawler was just about to catch his breath when another hulking mutant charged right into his face. This one had a cannon barrel welded to one arm and held a mace in the other—these bastards' cybernetics didn't have duplicates! "Holy crap... how many more of these beasts are there?!" Chopping off the cannon barrel aimed at his chest with one swing, Model Prone Crawler grunted as a mace smashed into his shoulder. Cursing through the comm channel, he retaliated with a vicious axe strike. They'd been bombed several rounds already, why were there still so many?! A squad voice came through the comm channel: "Mission brief said five to six hundred." From the cacophony in the background, one could easily tell how intense the fighting was. Watching the green head go flying, Model Prone Crawler tossed aside the axe, already slick with grease, and scooped up the mace dropped by the elite mob. "Are you sure it's only five or six hundred?!" Static crackled in the comm channel: "...Who gives a shit how many are left? Just fuck 'em up and get it done!" Indeed. Who gave a damn how many were left? Getting hyped up in the bloody atmosphere, Model Prone Crawler found his rhythm, his expression turning fierce as well. What a rare chance— Might as well kill to his heart's content! "Roger that!" Gunfire across the open ground was barely audible now. At point-blank range, axes, hammers, and chainsaws proved far more effective. Against mutants with such absurd vitality, a bayonet half a finger wide looked like a toy, not necessarily even as hard as their bones. And even with their bellies sliced open and guts hanging out, they could still swing their clubs to fight. Only by smashing their skulls to pieces or punching a hole clean through their chests could they truly be killed! Likewise for the Alliance soldiers armed to the teeth in exoskeletons, sharp weapons and rifle piercing damage couldn't penetrate the defense of the "Iron Wall" heavy exoskeleton at all. Even an overloaded shotgun could only kill them in one hit if it struck the head; against standard-caliber rifles, only sustained fire could shatter the armor through metal fatigue. This kind of drawn-out shooting clearly wasn't the mutants' style, and by coincidence, the bruisers of the Jungle Corps had no interest in kiting and trading shots either. Thus, both sides tacitly chose to settle the score through flesh-and-bone brawling, tearing into each other in the most primal manner. The chaotic battlefield was like a spinning meat grinder, ruthlessly swallowing up fresh lives and spitting out fragmented mush. Kuru's expression turned from ferocious to frenzied. Finally, after striking down his second Alliance soldier, that frenzied expression turned uncontrollably into bewilderment and panic. Whether in numbers or brute strength, their side clearly held the advantage, yet his charging brothers were dropping one after another. Melee was supposed to be their home turf! This was supposed to be their hunt! These guys... Were they really human? When warm blood sprayed onto him and he licked it into his mouth, he could be certain the animal before him was one of those frail creatures. Yet when he saw the warrior whose armor he had sliced open with a chainsaw not run away, but instead lunge at him with a savage grimace right into the howling, cutting blade, Kuru was completely stunned. On this rapidly shifting battlefield, a single moment of distraction could be fatal, and he soon paid the price for his daze. The shockwave of an explosion destroyed his chainsaw, sending shattered steel fragments and minced meat smashing into his chest. "Ah—!" Kuru roared in pain and stumbled back two steps. Looking at the shrapnel embedded in his arm, he wrenched it out and threw it away in shocked fury. If Torch's experts hadn't reinforced his cybernetic frame, that hit alone would have been enough to cripple his movement. Propping himself up with his halberd, Kuru staggered to his feet. He was as strong as a two-headed ox, yet his forward steps resembled a stumbling donkey. These people were insane. No— They weren't human at all. They were something else wearing human skin! Those weak two-legged cattle couldn't fight like this. These guys were... more like beasts than he was! The sounds of slaughter began to fade. Not because the enemies before him were spent, but because more and more mutants were falling before those steel bodies. Normally, they had to sacrifice three to four of their own to take down one Alliance soldier in an exoskeleton. And that was the best-case scenario. The reality was that three Alliance soldiers formed a squad, supporting two other squads; often, losing over a dozen lives couldn't take a single head. Even in a chaotic melee, those people maintained a minimum level of teamwork, watching out for nearby teammates even while killing like madmen. This was something Kuru couldn't fathom! However, though his heart was filled with turmoil, one thing was certain—if they kept grinding like this, total annihilation was only a matter of time! His wolfish eyes scanned the battlefield, and soon, through the drifting mist, he spotted a distinct figure. That steel body stood like a black iron tower at the very center of the battlefield, like an insurmountable wall. Over a dozen warriors had already fallen before him, yet the chainsaw embedded in his left arm never stopped swinging, chopping off heads with the practiced ease of felling trees. Splattering blood had turned the man into a crimson statue, drenched from head to toe in gory red, like a living banner. Though that fellow denied being the Administrator, he was undeniably the leader of these humans. "Haha, going completely berserk!" He still seemed to be shouting something excitedly. Kuru couldn't hear clearly and couldn't understand, only sensing that the surrounding Alliance soldiers seemed emboldened by those shouts. Kuru's eyes grew dangerous. Staring straight at that man, he picked up a still-running chainsaw from the ground. If he killed that guy... Surely these people would break and flee! Coincidentally, as if sensing his gaze, that man looked toward him as well, offering a cruel, savage grin from behind a blood-caked visor. Kuru couldn't see the grin, but the moment those eyes locked onto him, an involuntary shudder ran through his heart, followed instantly by a wave of humiliating rage. He, a warrior granted an honored name, was actually frightened by the food on his plate! "Die—!" He roared and charged forward. Seeing this, the man neither dodged nor retreated. Proudly raising the chainsaw welded to his left arm, he howled and charged right back at him. "Crazy!" "Completely berserk!" Contrary to Kuru's imagination, Bro Chicken had completely forgotten about command, even forgetting that he was the damn corps commander. All that filled his head was his previous record. He had gone completely, utterly berserk. *** Standing in that Sanctuary that did not exist on earth, Luo Qian gazed expressionlessly at the battlefield through mortal eyes. What barbarism... What ugliness... Earlier, he had been curious how the Alliance would fight the pieces he placed upon the chessboard, never expecting they would do so by degenerating into beasts themselves. Disgust showed on his face, along with a trace of pity and compassion. The wasteland was precisely such a filthy thing; to survive, people could only plunge headfirst into the jungle, turning themselves into blood-drinking beasts that gorged on raw flesh. And in that process, humans unknowingly became part of the jungle, turning every inch of soil into a hell where civilization could never take root. "...A twisted civilization like this really should just start over." With a hint of resentment and vindication, he looked at those entangled lumps of flesh, muttering this monologue in a cold tone. Yet he soon realized this was an impure thought he shouldn't harbor—he was meant to guide those lambs toward glorious sacrifice to fulfill a grand aspiration; he must never presume to judge a person's life or death based on personal emotions, for that would be a desecration of life and ideals. Even more, a desecration of divinity. "Indeed, my cultivation is still lacking..." Luo Qian lowered his eyes. While reflecting inwardly, he couldn't help pondering the cause of this "anger that should not have been." Was it because of Yinyin? That little girl was just like his granddaughter who died young all those years ago—childish but fundamentally good-natured, naive but eager to learn, occasionally spoiled, yet deep down hating to cause harm to others... For the child of a farm owner, such a quality could be called kindness, or it could be called cowardice. He had been curious what kind of person this child would grow up to be, and so, from the stance of an elder, he had casually offered her a bit of guidance. Yet lamentably, before he could see this budding flower bloom, it had withered in the flowerpot beside the laboratory window. "Indeed, barbaric soil cannot sprout the branches of civilization, let alone a beautiful, tender flower. Even if she lived, she probably wouldn't live well... Perhaps death was the gentlest ending for her." Facing the empty Sanctuary, he muttered to himself, as if comforting himself, or trying to convince himself. "Forgive me for failing to save you." "But I swear to you, when all of this is over, you will live a carefree life in the new world, running freely under the sunlight." "Everything that once bound you will cease to exist. Your troubles will vanish into thin air along with the old world... That will be a kingdom of heaven even more prosperous than the Prosperity Era, a true utopia descending upon the human realm." He let out a soft sigh. Right at that moment, however, a contemptuous sneer suddenly breached this sacred, inviolable domain from beyond his sight. "Promising a kingdom of heaven on earth to someone already dead, disguising your own incompetence with daydreams and lies... How laughable. Your idea of ending this jungle is just to slaughter everyone here? You can't even hold a candle to those big-nosed bastards—at least they set a fire, and fire could actually burn this forest down." "Who?!" Luo Qian's eyes snapped open, looking all around, yet he couldn't locate the source of the voice. Suddenly his pupils contracted slightly as he recalled the chip left on Yinyin. Those bastards were actually using her body to blabber such absurdities! A flash of fury crossed Luo Qian's cloudy pupils. Reaching out, he moved to snuff out that hateful voice, yet his withered, skeletal fingers froze in midair. That authoritative voice carried a trace of disdain and scorn, completely ignoring that frail, withered twig of an arm. "Even if we degenerate into beasts, fighting this wasteland with stones, sticks, or even our fists and teeth, we will never forget what we are or where we are going." "Keep your kingdom of heaven to yourself." "We aren't going anywhere. We will rebuild our own kingdom right here among men!"