Watch Closely, I'll Only Demonstrate Once!

At this very moment, the Pioneer known as the "Beast King" had no idea that his opponent was indeed carefully pondering how to play his next card. It was just that the cards being played were somewhat different from what he had imagined... At the tavern entrance. Taking in the tavern's foul, smoke-filled air and the pack of card addicts flushed and shouting at the top of their lungs, Commander Spring, who had just arrived at the front, was utterly dumbfounded. Only after a good while did he snap out of it, muttering blankly, "Holy hell..." The reason for Enterprise's pathetic combat performance was finally revealed. Turns out these bastards were all in the rear playing cards?! Kakarot craned his neck and scanned the crowd, quickly spotting the familiar culprit with an "I knew it" expression. "Sigh, I knew it was Mosquito's doing." I'm the Darkest: "Tzeentch!! He's a spy sent by Tzeentch!" Ten-Punch Superman: "Call in the Burning Corps' tin cans!" Catching Ghosts at Graves: "Drag this discipline-ruining bastard out and blam him already." Just as the group at the door was chattering away, Mosquito, having just finished hawking his wares, slipped out from the center of the crowd and immediately spotted the gang standing by the entrance. "Spring?!" His eyes lit up, and Mosquito walked over with a cheeky grin, clapping him on the arm. "What are you doing here? Weren't you waiting for deployment orders in the rear?" These guys were all his major clients. Compared to them, selling these cards was just pocket change. "We were waiting for orders, yeah, but the order just came," Commander Spring chuckled and continued, "The Administrator is heading to the front lines, so he had us transferred over too." "What? The Administrator's here?" Mosquito jumped in surprise, instantly ditching the burlap sack containing a few remaining card packs onto a nearby NPC. Apparently, realizing he was up to no good, he severed ties with the business at lightspeed. The young fellow beside him was sharp enough, deftly catching the sack and pretending he didn't know Mosquito at all. The lad didn't look like someone from River Valley Province; his hair was slightly curly, his stature rather short, and his dark, beady eyes darted about, looking somewhat like a Ratfolk from Bolo Province. "He isn't here yet, stop craning your neck." Noticing Mosquito peering toward the doorway, Spring gave a helpless shrug, then glanced at the tavern's foul haze and couldn't resist teasing him. "Right now everyone's saying you're the one who wrecked our allies' combat capability. How are you gonna explain yourself when the Administrator gets here?" Never expecting such a heavy accusation pinned on him, Mosquito immediately squealed in protest. "Holy shit, what's that got to do with me? I'm not the reason they can't take the hill!" Hand on heart—these guys were like this before he even arrived! Yet none of these bastards listened to his excuses, only clamoring on. Kakarot: "And you still say it's not you! Do these guys look like people who can fight a war?" I'm the Darkest: "Exactly! Pathetic!" Kevin shook his head as well. "At this rate, you won't even scale this ridge by next year!" "What's that got to do with me?" Mosquito said, caught between tears and laughter. "If you guys are so great, you go up!" "What a coincidence, that's exactly what we plan to do." Looking at Mosquito, Commander Spring chuckled and patted his shoulder. "Just you wait. When the Administrator arrives tomorrow, we'll show you how it's done—let you see how a real battle is fought." ... In all fairness, it wasn't that Enterprise was slacking off. The average elevation of the Ten Peaks was over a thousand meters, with the most perilous summits easily reaching two to three thousand meters. The treacherous terrain far surpassed any modest two-to-three-hundred-meter hill, comparable to the Hengduan Mountains of the real world. And on peaks like Broken Blade Mountain, the frontage was severely limited. Only two to three hundred troops could assault at any one time; those behind had to climb over the corpses of those in front. Moreover, the enemy had constructed extensive fortifications, turning the entire mountaintop into a virtual fortress. Even with an army of a hundred thousand standing nearby, numbers offered little advantage. In the span of two days and a night, Enterprise had attempted three assaults. In the final wave, they had even deployed two bunker-buster missiles straight out of the lab, each carrying a 500-kilogram warhead, yet they still failed to plant their flag on the summit. Mercenary casualties had reached over three hundred, exceeding the Legion's non-clone losses on Black Cloud Mountain. Recognizing that subsequent operations would still require those mercenaries, the commander of the 100th Mechanized Mountain Division had no choice but to turn to their battle-hardened ally: the Alliance. Back in Dawn City, Commander Spring had volunteered on behalf of the Storm Corps to undertake this mission. Yet neither Spring nor Enterprise's commanders anticipated that just as they were planning the next offensive, the Wilante stationed on Black Cloud Mountain would run out of patience and reach their hands out ahead of time... On the night of the third day. Atop Black Cloud Mountain. Glancing at General Modlin, who was peering toward the distant positions through night-vision goggles, the adjutant beside him could not help asking, "Isn't this a bit hasty?" Those mercenaries had assaulted the peak three times without achieving meaningful results. While Enterprise's sluggish performance at the front was disappointing, he still advised against snatching the objective from their grasp. Not only would this expend their own strength, but it could have served as a golden opportunity to test Ideal City's capabilities. He felt that with a little more pressure, Enterprise might finally commit its regular forces. Then they could observe firsthand the combat prowess of an army armed to the teeth with advanced machinery. Ultimately, as fellow heirs of the old world, Enterprise was their true rival. As for the Church of the Torch, it was merely the most active grasshopper among a horde of irritants. General Modlin, standing beside him, held a different view, however, speaking succinctly: "...Haven't you noticed? The first few mountaintop positions were relatively easy to take, but the ones further back become progressively harder." Adjutant: "And so?" General Modlin narrowed his eyes and continued, "So the earlier we finish our quota, the better it is for us. According to our pre-war agreement, we are required to undertake the capture of at least two peaks. Counting Black Cloud Mountain, which we've already secured, taking just one more allows us to sit back in the spectator seats." By then, they could leave all the tough bones for the rest of the coalition to chew on. And if the others wanted them to intervene again, they would have to offer concessions at the Slime Coalition's negotiating table. Completing their combat assignment ahead of schedule was in itself a weighty bargaining chip. He was certain Lord Lium thought the same, which was why he had authorized tonight's operation. At this point, he turned to the adjutant and continued calmly, "Notify General Mekar that our troops are in position. His Glorious Army may advance." Before committing Wilante soldiers, he needed those clone cannon fodder to go up first and drain the mutants' stamina and ammunition. The adjutant understood instantly. Straightening up, he snapped a salute. "Sir!" ... At midnight that night, without warning, the airship Loyalty fired ten full 400mm barrel-launched rockets at Broken Blade Mountain. The roaring flames swept down like a crimson cloud descending from the heavens, engulfing the entire peak. The mountain's vegetation vanished into ash in an instant, and even the boulders on the ground grew scorching hot. At the same time, the Glorious Army cohort waiting at the foot of the mountain fixed bayonets. A high-bridged centurion stood before the ranks, drew his sidearm, fired a shot toward the summit, and roared: "For the Marshal!" "For Loyalty!" "Charge—!" Fanaticism flared in every pair of eyes. Deafening roars erupted from the clones as they gripped their rifles and charged up the slope. "Long live the Marshal!" "Kill!!" Those few words were among the handful of phrases in the Human Alliance language they could speak. Having matured at eight times normal speed, they lacked full human intellect, their brains able to process only an eighth of what an ordinary human could. Yet those brief words were enough to summarize their entire lives. From the moment they were born, they had been preparing to burn themselves out for this very day. "Roar!!" A hulking green-skin lurking in a tunnel bellowed, swinging its empty shotgun like a war club and smashing a clone's skull to pieces. Yet before it could savor the white brains, a bayonet flashed like white lightning, thrusting upward through its jaw! Scalding blood sprayed across the clone's fanatically twisted face, but he never ceased howling as he pressed forward. They were like rabid dogs on drugs. If their legs were severed, they crawled with their hands; if their arms were broken, they bit with their teeth—even more rabid than the profanity-spewing green hulks! Aside from those numb to death, some clones broke down mentally, curling up and wailing in the gore. Even so, not a single one retreated. Under the command of Wilante decurions, they tore forward like beasts, rapidly burning out in their madness. Facing such savage "rations" for the first time, the mutants of the Rock Axe Clan were momentarily thrown off balance. Although these madmen were clearly less effective fighters than the exoskeleton-clad humans they had faced before, their suicidal fervor inflicted considerable psychological pressure. Meanwhile, in Enterprise's combat command post, confusion and uproar reigned. The airship Loyalty suddenly opened fire, followed immediately by the unexpected deployment of clone troops—a sequence of actions entirely outside the battle plan that took everyone by surprise. Having rushed to the scene, Lin Shangwen stared unblinkingly at the holographic display, not uttering a word. The adjutant standing beside him cursed under his breath and growled, "What the hell do those big-noses think they're doing?! Have they lost their minds?" Even if they wanted to show off, launching an assault without so much as a heads-up was outrageous. Back when Black Cloud Mountain was assaulted, he had already wanted to call out those arrogant bastards. It was only because the Xilan Empire's commander had swallowed his pride, not even making a fuss over his own countrymen being accidentally bombed, that an outsider like him hadn't made an issue of it. Chief of Staff Yun Song also stared silently at the holographic screen. Spotting movement from another group at the foot of the mountain, clarity dawned, and he said in a deep voice: "They're likely trying to swoop in and steal the credit." The adjutant froze, then realized what was happening and hissed, "Those shameless bandits!" They had already sacrificed over three hundred mercenaries on that mountain, raining down hundreds of rockets and over a thousand heavy artillery shells! They had killed or wounded at least two to three thousand mutants! Just as cracks were beginning to show in the enemy defenses, these bastards leaped out to steal the glory! Lin Shangwen still said nothing, staring quietly at the display, lost in thought. Just as he was about to place a call to Lium to demand an explanation, the other party beat him to it. An ugly nose appeared in the center of the screen, followed by an irritating, smirk-wearing face. Even late at night, the man had a wooden stick clamped between his teeth, as though it were permanently affixed to his face. "Looked like you were having a rough time, so I thought I'd fight this one for you." Hearing the shameless excuse, Lin Shangwen sneered and tilted his chin slightly, looking at the face on the screen. "Am I supposed to thank you?" "Haha! Don't mention it," Lium chuckled, leaning back in his chair and speaking with venomous sarcasm. "I just pity the delicate young masters of Ideal City who've never seen blood. Wouldn't want them pissing their pants on the battlefield... Better they stay in the rear and play cards." Playing cards? Lin Shangwen frowned. The officers behind him exchanged bewildered glances, completely unsure what the man was talking about. Lium offered no explanation. Looking at the spineless allied officers, he continued with smug nonchalance: "Watch closely. I'll only demonstrate once." With that, he closed the video feed, disappearing and leaving the command room full of fuming officers behind... ... One had to admit, the Legion's calculations were loud enough for Commander Spring, newly arrived at the front, to hear from miles away. Gunfire and the roar of artillery echoed across Broken Blade Mountain, flickering blasts illuminating the peak as bright as day. The suffocating stench of gunpowder and scorched earth drifted faintly across the gap, reachable even on Mount Fu one peak over. "Holy shit... our Enterprise brothers are about to get slapped in the face," Brother Edge remarked, binoculars in hand, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he peered south. Restricted by the vantage point, he could only see a corner of the battlefield. Even so, the slaughter was brutal enough. Commander Spring chuckled beside him, disagreeing with the assessment. "I wouldn't be so sure." Lowering his binoculars, Brother Edge looked at him curiously. "What do you mean?" Commander Spring said at an unhurried pace: "If those mutants were that easy to deal with, they wouldn't have pinned Enterprise down for three full days. Honestly, facing bastards that don't die from headshots and black tech we've never seen before, any unit would struggle just the same. Especially through such thick rock strata—we don't even know how many are hiding inside." Qiangren Suonan had tried sneaking in to scout, but that fat rat of his was a bit too plump. While the hulking green-skins didn't notice him, the goblins viewed him as a tasty snack. After dying three times without getting into the caves, he stopped wasting his effort and turned to brainstorm other methods. It wasn't just them; Enterprise had attempted all sorts of tactics as well, such as sending in android special forces equipped with optical camouflage to map the caves. To everyone's surprise, however, the android squad was greeted with EMP weapons, briefly immobilized, and then beaten into scrap. Even their subsequent deployments of rice-grain-sized "Beetle" drones ended in failure. This intelligence hadn't been shared openly across the Slime Coalition, but it was shared between the Alliance and Enterprise military systems. In short, Enterprise had exhausted every idea they could think of, yet the enemy seemed prepared for every trick, countering them move for move. Seeing that clever tactics were useless, Enterprise was left with the age-old brute-force method: bombard with artillery, then charge with infantry. Yet even after deploying every available fire support weapon and saturation-bombing the peak countless times, they still couldn't pry the mountain from the green-skins' clutches. Spring figured the Wilante would likely suffer the same fate and take some bitter losses tonight. Those guys certainly had skill, but they always made the same mistake: underestimating others and overestimating themselves. "...As for why Enterprise didn't stop them, I'm guessing they wanted to use the Wilante to whittle down the mountain's garrison. However many mutants are up there, they can't be infinite." "What a coincidence," Brother Edge grinned, thumping a fist against his breastplate. "We are infinite. Let us handle it." Commander Spring gave him a sideways glance. "Give it a rest. It's our turn this time anyway." Brother Edge: "Damn! You guys just got here and you're not even taking a break?" Commander Spring chuckled, "We've been resting since we pulled out of Jinhe City. We've rested plenty." During their banter, new developments unfolded on the front line. Just as General Modlin had anticipated, an entire cohort of cannon-fodder clones was wiped out in short order. Corpses littered the slopes—both mutants and clones—their mangled flesh and blood intermingled as though a meat grinder had churned across the rugged mountainside. Without hesitation, the airship Loyalty, according to plan, launched another eight 400mm heavy rounds, which, paired with the Bison's 200mm cannons, commenced the night's second artillery bombardment against the mutants on the mountain. This barrage was even more ferocious than the first. Not only did the front-line Wilante cheer with exhilaration, but even allied troops in the rear stared wide-eyed. Standing at the entrance of his barracks, General Babita stared hungrily at the Bison walker standing tall on the wasteland, his eyes burning with desire. If only the Legion were willing to sell this piece of hardware to them. If General Arayan had possessed one of these, they would never have lost Golden Gallon Port. Mosquito, newly returned from Kun Town, was equally stunned, mouth agape at firepower that spat out death like coughing up phlegm, muttering incessantly: "Holy crap... what kind of material is that barrel made of to take such a beating?" If only he could figure out the composition of that metal. Compared to the Railgun No. 60—which was currently useless in reality and completely beyond comprehension anyway—the practical value of this walker was vastly superior! Having already tasted the sweet profits from that bottle of aviation kerosene, his gaze grew increasingly fervent, and sly thoughts began churning in his mind. Perhaps... He could find a way to make those big-noses "misplace" one. While the wastelanders gazed upon the roaring inferno, the distant battlefield was an infernal charnel house. Green hulks that failed to retreat into caves, tunnels, and bunkers in time were blown to smithereens, while goblins attempting to drag the wounded into cover suffered catastrophic casualties; many crippled by shrapnel could only crawl behind boulders, screaming in agony. Peering at the battlefield through night-vision goggles, General Modlin judged that the time was ripe and immediately barked an order. "Second Cohort of the 31st Legion, advance!" "Sir!" The adjutant saluted and promptly relayed the command to the cohort. The eager Second Cohort began their assault up the slopes. A squad of twenty heavy infantry clad like Iron Pagoda cataphracts, lugging rotary machine guns, spearheaded the charge under cover from a centuria toward a stubborn cave entrance midway up the mountain that had resisted all previous attacks. The silence of the night was shattered for a second time as combat reached a fever pitch once more. The well-trained Wilante soldiers displayed combat prowess vastly superior to that of the clone troops, driving the mutants on the mountain back step by step. Even Spring, who had harbored doubts about their ability to take the peak, couldn't help showing surprise. "Looks like your prediction missed the mark," Brother Edge said with a grin, tossing the binoculars into his hands. "In one hour, those Wilante have captured six cave entrances. The fighting outside the caves is pretty much over." Just moments ago, he had witnessed a heavy infantryman carrying a flamethrower step into a cavern; no doubt the stench of roasted meat was already permeating the interior. Compared to the flashy, sophisticated gear Enterprise trotted out, straightforward brutality truly was more effective. At least, it suited his taste. Spring caught the binoculars, checked the field once more with stubborn disbelief, and seeing that the situation was indeed as Edge described, still refused to back down: "They've only just stepped into the dog hole. The real meat grinder is just getting started... It remains to be seen how long they can hold out in there." "True enough," Brother Edge nodded in deep agreement. He actually held a rather high opinion of opponents he had previously clashed with. The clean victory in their military campaign in Sunset Province owed a great deal to strategic factors. Those opponents' combat capabilities were by no means poor; on an equal footing regarding logistics, fire support, air superiority, and terrain, winning a conventional engagement against them was no easy feat. Had it been his own unit attempting to completely eradicate green hulks entrenched to the death, it would likely cost a hefty price as well. Meanwhile, in airspace over a hundred kilometers away, a towering steel airship glided steadily toward the front lines. It was not just the players watching the battle closely; Chu Guang's eyes had never left the front either. As soon as the Legion launched its attack, Lin Shangwen, commander of the 100th Mechanized Mountain Division, had contacted him by radio to discuss the situation and ask for their opinion. At the same time, Chu Guang had used the quest system to contact Qiangren Suonan, commissioning him to act as a war correspondent to livestream the front with a camera. Truth be told, for the Wilante to put on an air of generosity while pulling such petty schemes was indeed distasteful. If they truly took that peak, all the lives Enterprise lost and the money they burned over the past days would be thrown away, chalked up as the Legion's triumph instead. However, more than his old friend's losses, Chu Guang was curious about the true strength of the Legion's regular army. So he had negotiated terms with Lin Shangwen, persuading him to step aside and not pressure General Lium over the matter, instead allowing the Wilante to charge in and whittle down the mutants' numbers. If Broken Blade Mountain fell to the Legion, Chu Guang promised to take another objective on Enterprise's behalf as "compensation." In any case, his players were itching for more screen time, and he was more than happy to secure mutually beneficial perks for them. Naturally, as part of the trade-off, all ammunition, equipment, and "pensions" expended during the assault would be footed by Enterprise. Lin Shangwen naturally wouldn't turn down such a sweet deal and had agreed almost without hesitation. The Supreme Council didn't care about the financial expense, nor how outsiders viewed Ideal City; they only demanded that he achieve maximum results with minimal casualties. Thus, Chu Guang, moonlighting as Coalition Marshal, quickly reached an understanding with his "general," turning the tables by yielding tonight's stage to General Lium. Weren't they eager to show off? Then let them have at it. Gazing at the boundless sea of clouds beyond the bridge's floor-to-ceiling windows, Chu Guang smiled faintly and asked: "Vannus, do you think the 31st Legion can plant their flag on the summit of Broken Blade Mountain tonight?" Though he rarely intervened directly in front-line tactical command, his strategic acumen made him skeptical that the Wilante could win this localized battle with such inadequate preparation. Staring at the holographic display, Vannus pondered for a moment before suddenly speaking up: "I suspect General Lium might be contacting you instead." "Oh?" Chu Guang looked at him with keen interest, curious about the reasoning behind this assessment. Vannus collected his thoughts and continued in contemplation: "Knowing the organizational structure of the Eastern Legion... they have likely committed more than just one cohort to this battle. And based on my understanding of General Lium, while he is undeniably talented, his temperament is closer to that of a gambler." At those words, the faint smile on Chu Guang's face faded slightly. "You mean... he stripped the defensive garrison on Black Cloud Mountain?" Vannus nodded, the solemnity on his face deepening into palpable concern. "He would have had no reason to plan a third offensive wave against an enemy he looked down upon. In other words, tonight on Black Cloud Mountain there were likely only two forces deployed: one garrison unit and one assault unit. The mutants letting them into the caves might not stem from weakness, but rather a calculation that our side has committed 'unexpected' forces to this engagement. They may be feigning vulnerability in this local clash to inflate the sunk cost of abandoning tonight's offensive." "And if forced to choose between 'pushing just a little harder' and 'bowing his head to his allies,' General Lium's character dictates that, for the sake of Wilante pride, he would almost certainly gamble and throw the defensive garrison into the fray..." Pausing briefly, Vannus added: "Those green-skins..." "...are likely preparing a counteroffensive."