True Heroes!

Just as the mutants pursuing them from the caves had anticipated, these fellows clad in exoskeletons were far more dangerous than everyone they had faced before combined! It wasn't merely because of the heavy exoskeleton continuously lobbing mortar shells, nor was it the speed and strength they displayed on the battlefield. It was the sheer aura erupting from these fighters—something the mutants had never encountered before. These humans acted as though they had died countless times already. They seemed thoroughly accustomed to death! "Roar—!" Seeing an exoskeleton-clad warrior charge right up to it, a greenskin brute lurking behind a boulder let out a savage roar. Its steel axe swung toward the warrior's face with thunderous fury, only to be firmly blocked by a square shield. *Clang—!* A dull, heavy clang echoed into the night. A blow powerful enough to cleave an ox in half left nothing more than a shallow scratch on the ceramite shield! In fact, it looked like it had only chipped the paint! With the webbing of its thumb jarred numb, the greenskin brute stumbled backward. Before it could regain its footing, a fist-sized muzzle was aimed dead at its head. The player grinned ferociously and pulled the trigger. "Repent in hell!" A thick tongue of flame burst from the shotgun's barrel along with that savage grin—and the burning phosphorus fire was the projectile itself! Triethylaluminum mixed with white phosphorus burned completely even in cramped spaces with limited oxygen, producing temperatures near a thousand degrees to inflict maximum trauma on organic matter! Although the flame didn't last long, its destructive power was staggering. Unlike white phosphorus grenades that sprayed in all directions, this directed jet of fire struck precisely where aimed. Taking the blinding blaze full in the face, the mutant shrieked in agony, rolling on the ground before quickly curling into a ball and falling motionless, huge swaths of flesh charred to cinders. The spent casing ejected from the chamber flickered with faint wisps of flame, tumbling clattering down the slope. The player skillfully racked the shotgun against his shield, chambering the next round with practiced ease. Gripping the ceramite shield, he advanced with firm, powerful strides. Heavy infantry equipped with riot shields and Type-6 exoskeletons formed the vanguard, covering two light infantrymen wearing Type-5 exoskeletons behind each of them as they pushed toward the mountainside in three-man fireteams. Gazing at the jets of flame erupting across the lower mountain slopes, the Wilante soldiers who had just fallen back to the rear stared in disbelief. "Is that... white phosphorus?" "...Barrel-fired?" A decurion with half an arm scorched gasped under his breath, "Are these bastards out of their minds?!" White phosphorus munitions were hardly rare in the Legion's logistical inventories. From warheads on 400mm rocket-assisted projectiles down to grenades issued to frontline infantry, they were considered economical and practical conventional weapons. However, cramming such material into a shell to blast out of a barrel was something none of them had ever conceived. Never mind the extreme heat the barrel had to withstand—weren't these maniacs afraid of setting themselves ablaze? Even with secondary ignition, it was dangerously reckless! The Legion wasn't the only one stunned. Even inside the 100th Mountain Division's command post, where officers watched the drone surveillance feeds, murmurs of astonishment arose. "Their small arms actually have some punch..." "Worth studying." "Probably mostly gimmicky, though." "Not necessarily gimmicky, but it's true that being so specialized severely limits its application scenarios." "Mm... indeed." To both the Legion and Enterprise, "secondary-ignition ammunition" was an exotic concept, and stuffing solid incendiary agents into the projectile made it seem downright bizarre. Although the officers were suitably impressed, upon reflection, they abandoned any notion of procuring such weapons for their own forces. Given the technological legacy of the Era of Prosperity, manufacturing something like this wasn't difficult, but pouring excessive resources into light infantry equipment offered an abysmal return on investment. Both the Legion and Enterprise allocated limited R&D budgets to individual soldier gear. The former favored prevailing through larger calibers and sheer quantity, while the latter preferred cutting costs through unmanned systems and military outsourcing. Tactically, the faction that actually resembled the Alliance most was the Academy, an organization not traditionally renowned for brute military might. Although the Academy's original motive for equipping the "Alpha" Mobile Task Force with heaps of high-tech gear hadn't been to minimize casualties, but rather to "overtake on the curve" in an area where it was weak, it was indeed one of the rare survivor factions willing to spend lavishly on individual equipment. As for the Alliance, lacking the Academy's vast technological reserves, it could only explore wild yet practical brainstorms within its limited capabilities. "Secondary-ignition ammunition" was a concept born of that very design philosophy. The boltgun, specifically engineered to combat mutants, fell under this umbrella, as did this white phosphorus munition that ignited the moment it cleared the muzzle. Compared to shaped-charge bolt rounds, these white phosphorus rounds possessed no minimum arming distance, were cheaper to produce, and delivered even more horrific lethality at close range! Their sole drawback was range. However, in mountain and tunnel warfare, that was hardly an issue. Engagement distances here were either tens of meters or well over a thousand meters. The former tended to trigger the boltgun's safety arming distance, preventing the rounds from detonating properly, while the latter far exceeded the limits of ordinary small arms and was purely the business of artillery. Thus, at the request of numerous players, Boulder Military Industries developed a specialized 19mm shotgun based on the boltgun platform—the "Flame Dragon." Logistics might curse up a storm over its transport and maintenance—it even had to be shipped separately from standard munitions—but that was another matter entirely. In any case, while the Legion and Enterprise commanders were marveling at the display, the vanguard of the Storm Corps had already slapped the mutant forces pursuing down the mountain with a vicious counterstrike, sending the greenskin brutes reeling in confusion. Realizing that taking Black Cloud Mountain in one stroke was no longer feasible, the mutants who had charged out of the caves began to fall back. They intended to pull their lines back into the caverns and tunnels, repeating the bloody meat-grinder they had already waged against the Wilante. Just then, a dark silhouette three to four meters tall swept behind the mutants like a hurricane. Flashing talons stirred up a howling gale in the darkness, slicing two greenskin brutes in half on the spot and spilling guts all over the ground. Meeting those amber eyes and a maw venting plumes of white vapor, the goblins instantly broke out in terror. Screaming, they threw down their weapons and fled wildly, tripping up quite a few greenskin brutes retreating up the slope. A mutant centurion's eyes went wide as saucers as it stared at the claw-wielding behemoth. "Deathclaw!" And it was wearing an exoskeleton! The panic didn't stop with the goblins; even the greenskin brutes felt a flash of dread in their eyes. They had heard earlier that the Stone Horn Clan on Mount Fu had been wiped out by a bunch of bastards riding Deathclaws. Could it be those very same fiends? While Scavenger swung his talons and slaughtered the enemy with gusto, Wo Xiang Jingjing watched from afar with undisguised envy. "...Holy crap, Scavenger really is a badass!" Standing beside him, Fat Rat was somewhat reluctant to admit it, but grudgingly nodded in agreement. "True. If only he had more endurance." Wo Xiang Jingjing: "Uh... that really is an issue." The Heterogeneous sequence was undeniably strong, but it also fell off hard. Especially in the late game, when regular players upgraded their gear, Heterogeneous players were still stuck borrowing "battle pet" equipment. Apart from Brother Mosquito and Tail, almost no lifestyle-class players were willing to bother designing gear specifically for the tiny handful of Heterogeneous players when sales were guaranteed to be pathetic. And once equipment upgrades lagged behind, the disadvantage became painfully obvious. While other players fought with coordinated team tactics, Heterogeneous players still relied on primitive brawling. After harvesting more than twenty mutant heads in succession, Scavenger, having plunged deep behind enemy lines, was finally overwhelmed by hundreds of hands. Assault rifle fire shattered the ballistic plates on his exoskeleton, and a hit from a man-portable rocket launcher squarely in the shoulder sent him tumbling off the cliff with an indignant roar... However, even though Scavenger failed to survive long enough to regroup with Brother Spring, his sudden rampage had spooked the mutants thoroughly and stalled their retreat. After suffering at least three to four hundred more casualties than anticipated, the mutants who had pursued down the mountain finally managed to retreat back into the caverns on the mountainside. Giving the beasts no breathing room, the Storm Corps' vanguard pursued hot on their heels, seizing several cave entrances halfway up the mountain. The main force waiting at the foot of the mountain pushed up to join them, coordinating with the vanguard inside the caves to wage a bloody battle against the mutants entrenched within the mountain. The players stuck to the tactics they had used advancing up the slopes: A heavy infantryman bearing a massive shield led the charge, flanked closely by two light infantrymen carrying light and heavy weapons. Tracers wove an impenetrable web through the narrow tunnels, yet every round was deflected by the ceramite shields. A mutant crouching behind cover saw that rifle rounds couldn't pierce the shield, roared, pulled out a grenade launcher, and fired at the cave entrance. Seeing the grenade streaking forward with a tail of white smoke, the Strength-type player up front reacted with lightning speed. Raising his shoulder, he shoved his shield forward and swatted the delayed-fuse grenade right back into the center of the tunnel, where it burst into a bloom of fire. Shrapnel pelted the shield like hail with a frantic clatter. Capitalizing on the suppressing effect of the blast, an Agility-type player shouldering an RPG launcher swiftly dropped into a crouch beside the heavy infantryman before the mutant behind cover could fire another shot, smoothly flipping off the safety. The step-nosed warhead and cylindrical body clearly identified the ordnance—a thermobaric warhead produced by Goblin Tech, modeled after the RShG-2 design! "RPG!" With an excited yell, the player pulled the trigger without hesitation. A thick plume of white smoke darted deep into the tunnel, followed instantly by a blinding flash erupting at the far end. The overpressure from the instantaneous detonation seemed to shake the entire cavern. Though free of any ultra-black technology, its lethality was beyond doubt. The nearly four-kilogram warhead was packed with high-energy fuel, matching or even outperforming real-world rockets with equivalent payloads! The scorching blast wave swept outward, nearly blowing over the Strength-type brute holding the shield. As for the mutants who took the direct brunt, countless perished or were maimed in an instant, leaving the cavern filled with collapsed bodies and agonized wails. Still, they truly lived up to their nature as products of Singularity technology; even after enduring a thermobaric explosion, a few managed to survive. One tenacious necrotic mutant even stumbled over the barricade, charging forward on sheer muscle memory. Steadying himself, the Strength-type player raised his shotgun and pumped two white phosphorus rounds straight into the creature's chest. A roaring jet of flame, like a dragon's breath, slammed the creature to the ground without giving it a chance to utter a sound. "Push forward!" Barking the command, Kakarot gripped his shotgun, stepped over the body writhing in flames, and took the lead into the cavern cleansed by the thermobaric blast. Several half-dead greenskin brutes tried to rise and resist, only to be finished off by the players charging in behind him and pinned dead to the floor. The tunnel reeked of scorched meat, a stench that whetted no one's appetite. Surveying the mutilated, twisted corpses strewn across the ground, I'm the Darkest, who entered right behind Kakarot, clicked his tongue in disbelief and mumbled, "These Wilante are brutal bastards..." In this tunnel alone, less than ten meters long, lay nearly half a company's worth of bodies... Kakarot smirked, reloading his spent shotgun. "It's not like you haven't fought them before." Recalling past battles, I'm the Darkest nodded with a touch of wistfulness. "Fair enough..." If not for their ability to respawn, beating those folks would have been quite a chore... Then again, without a respawn mechanic, if dying meant deleting your account, who would play this damned game! Besides, when it came to cheats, who could compete with those old monsters who inherited the legacy of the Reconstruction Committee? Whether it was the Legion, Enterprise, or the Academy, the trump cards they held were absurdly broken. In comparison, the advantage granted by Shelter 404's trump card didn't seem quite so overwhelming. The reason they could pull off such spectacular results... Was naturally because the Administrator played his hand brilliantly! While Kakarot and his men secured a foothold, the other units pushing deep into the "labyrinth" made impressive progress as well. In just half an hour, the Storm Corps had reclaimed the front line previously held by the Legion, and drove hundreds of meters deeper with unstoppable momentum! Along the way, they cleared out four armories packed with weapons and equipment, as well as an incubation chamber holding over five hundred captive survivors. Though the Storm Corps paid a toll of two full companies in casualties, the mutants suffered far worse—at least five times their losses! Detaching half a company to evacuate the survivors, Kakarot led his remaining troops to continue pressing into the mutant positions. Facing the relentless assault, the mutants inside the mountain finally showed signs of exhaustion. No matter how potent the regenerative abilities of these greenskin beasts were, they were not limitless. Wounded bodies still needed rest; only after gorging and sleeping could they recover to peak condition. Yet these human things had fought them all night without a moment's pause. With dawn approaching outside and gunfire still rattling through the caverns, both the greenskin brutes and the goblins began to feel a creeping dread. They had never seen such people— No! These bastards weren't humans at all! They were more like something else wearing human skins! And so, the fire raging into the mountain spread through the tunnels, blazing from the frontline armories all the way to the foundry situated in the deepest recess of the rock! That was where the Rock Axe Clan repaired and manufactured their equipment. It housed several forge furnaces and large workbenches designed by the Church of the Torch, along with an explosives workshop filled with chemical synthesis apparatus. Connected to every excavated shaft in the mountain, it served as the very heart of the labyrinth. Watching the situation deteriorate, even Oulong, who had sat serenely in his "palace," was gripped by panic and dragged his ponderous frame to the front line. He assumed the humans would flee in terror at the sight of him, just like those troops yesterday and the day before. What he never expected was that the instant he appeared in the foundry with a deafening roar, the human things, who had seemed slightly fatigued, didn't lose heart—their morale spiked through the roof. As if stumbling upon a priceless treasure, they shouted toward him in sheer delight. "Holy shit! The dungeon boss!" "Boys! The boss spawned!" "Grab your gear and waste this bastard!" "Awoooo!" Seeing the human things howling and charging at him, a rare trace of terror surfaced on Oulong's toad-like face. "What is wrong with these people?! Beastmaster! You son of a... Where are you! Tell me what to do!" It was the first time he had addressed that person by the title "Beastmaster" instead of calling him "that guy." Yet the entity that had always answered his call did not appear this time. It was as if he had never been there at all. Receiving no answer no matter how he called, despair washed over Oulong's face, quickly supplanted by boiling rage. He had been abandoned! None of those human things could be trusted! Not even the ones merely wearing human skin who were actually something else entirely! Gazing at the human soldiers firing upon him, Oulong opened his bloody maw and roared. Like a walking tank, he broke into a lumbering charge, his blood-soaked feet shaking the floor with every step. Seven-millimeter rounds left only tiny pinpricks on his hide, while wounds blasted open by rockets writhed with centipede-like strands of flesh. Even a destroyed head wouldn't kill him. His vitality exceeded every known creature on the surface, rivaling even the evolved organisms of the slime mold! Howling in pain under the fire of white phosphorus shells, Oulong dragged his towering, blood-drenched body into the players' midst. A palm as large as a cattail fan swatted away a Strength-type brute in heavy exoskeleton, followed by a spew of corrosive acid that sent everyone scrambling back in alarm. "Die!" "All of you die for Oulong—!" Rallied by that guttural bellow, the mutants inside the foundry unleashed a dying burst of ferocity. Greenskin brutes and goblins alike shrieked as they surged toward the players storming the cave. Watching the rampaging behemoth, a flicker of seriousness crossed Kakarot's brow. Yet excitement outweighed it by far! Not since the brothers of the Burning Corps conquered the broodmother in downtown Qingquan City had he had so much fun! "Tubes ready! Stop using armor-piercing and thermobaric rounds—load incendiary warheads, all of you!" "Let's see if this bastard heals faster than we can burn him!" "Blast the living hell out of him!" ... While the battle raged violently inside Broken Blade Mountain, silence hung outside, broken only by faint rumbles of explosions echoing from the cave mouths. Black Cloud Mountain. General Modlin stared fixedly at the cave entrances halfway up the distant mountain, brows furrowed with unreadable thoughts. His adjutant beside him did the same, gazing silently toward the same spot. Even though those fighters were rivals, he couldn't help uttering a quiet prayer for them in his heart. It was the respect of a warrior. Those people were true heroes! They could easily have turned a blind eye to former rivals, using the Legion's failure to give advance notice of tonight's offensive as an excuse to sit on the sidelines alongside Enterprise. They could have watched them shoot themselves in the foot, mocked them at the upcoming review meeting, or even pressured Triumph City through the Anti-Slime Coalition to strip General Lium of his command... Yet they had done none of that. For the broader war effort, for the unity of the Anti-Slime Coalition, for the greater good of all humanity, those noble souls had charged forward without hesitation, using their own flesh and blood to plug the breach created by General Lium's selfish ambition... Thinking of this, the adjutant felt a prickle of heat across his back, shame coloring his face. Though not all Wilante shared his perspective, within these few short hours, numerous officers and enlisted men of the 31st Millennium had genuinely revised their opinion of the Alliance. Especially the survivors pulled back from the brink on the front line. In their hearts lay more than gratitude—there was awe and deep respect... Meanwhile, the six Cloud Dragonfly ornithopters had expended all their ordnance. Seeing that their allies' positions on Black Cloud Mountain were out of danger, they began withdrawing toward the rear military base. Enterprise Frontline Command. Lin Shangwen got on the phone with Chu Guang, briefly summarizing the situation at the front before adding: "...Enemy units outside the mountain have been largely cleared, though fighting continues inside the tunnels. Regrettably, there's not much more we can do to help." "No matter. Leave it to us." Chu Guang nodded, his eyes fixed on another monitor displaying first-hand battle reports from the official Wasteland Online forum. As expected, these mutants were no pushovers; otherwise, Enterprise and the Legion wouldn't have suffered such bitter setbacks, allowing his men to swoop in and reap the spoils. This also indirectly confirmed Heya's hypothesis: The Church of the Torch had utilized the technical data on "Gestalt Lifeforms" scavenged from the wasteland to refine and improve the aberrant creation that was the "mutant." The greenskins on Broken Blade Mountain were distinct from the naturally evolved greenskins of the wasteland. They possessed vastly superior vitality, and a select few mutators among them were freakishly strong, capable of regrowing severed heads. Especially the super mutant barking the name "Oulong." His physical resilience bordered on the absurd—shrugging off ten thermobaric warheads as though nothing had happened, and continuing to fight with wild swings. Because of him, the Storm Corps had suffered considerable casualties. However, judging by the players relegated to waiting out their respawn cooldowns, reviews for this ridiculously overpowered boss were "overwhelmingly positive," without the slightest hint of dejection. Evidently, it had been a long time since they had faced an opponent that let them cut loose in such an exhilarating slugfest... Seeing that Chu Guang made no further demands, Lin Shangwen breathed a sigh of relief. But another matter crossed his mind, and after a moment's hesitation, he spoke up somewhat sheepishly. "By the way." "What is it?" "After all, we did invest considerable effort into this mountain..." Noticing Lin Shangwen's awkward expression, Chu Guang understood at once and offered a faint smile. "No problem. The hill is yours... Of course, as stipulated in our contract, you'll have to cover the operational costs incurred for this engagement." Hearing this, Lin Shangwen's face broke into a relieved smile, and he said with heartfelt sincerity, "Rest assured on that front—we would never let our friends take a loss!" Pausing, he seemed to feel a bit embarrassed and cleared his throat. "Also... you don't have to credit it solely to us. Let's make it a joint achievement." Chu Guang smiled and waved it off. "Minor details. The big picture takes priority." Dawn was breaking on the horizon. Though the ground below remained wrapped in the lingering night, Chu Guang, standing on the bridge of the Heart of Steel, could already see the end of the long darkness. Far off on Broken Blade Mountain, atop the highest crag, an exoskeleton-clad player clambered up and firmly planted the banners of the Storm Corps and the Alliance. Chu Guang saw the player, who seemed to spot the airship as well, waving enthusiastically before suddenly remembering protocol and planting a fist over his chest in salute. Knowing the player couldn't possibly see him, Chu Guang smiled and waved toward the panoramic window nonetheless. "...I didn't expect the Storm Corps to take it before dawn." Vannus glanced at his wristwatch, surprise showing on his face. By all indications, the mutants lurking inside that mountain amounted to at least a division, whereas the Storm Corps had only committed a single regiment to the front. Even with Enterprise and the Legion having depleted a significant portion of the mutant forces, chewing through such a stubborn bone was no small feat. Lowering his hand, Chu Guang narrowed his eyes with a faint smile. "I'm not surprised in the slightest." After all, he had followed the entire battle on the official forum, which was scarcely different from watching it firsthand from the front lines... Meanwhile, on the bridge of the airship Loyalty. Lium sat upright in his chair, staring at the two banners unfurling on Broken Blade Mountain. Not an ounce of joy stirred in his heart; his face was a portrait of bitter conflict. A cooked duck had flown the coop—that was almost precisely how he felt. Just then, his adjutant stepped up to his side, looking hesitant. Bending down, he whispered in Lium's ear: "General... the Coalition Field Marshal invites you to a meeting at the base command post. He said it's to address the lack of coordination among the branches and crack down on severe departmentalism." The muscle at the corner of Lium's mouth twitched violently. His aged face flushed red, turned pale, and flushed red again. His eyes bored into the panoramic window before him, as if wishing he could find a crack in the armored glass to crawl into. What had to come had finally arrived. At the thought of how the Enterprise bastards would mock him in a few moments, he wanted nothing more than to fling himself off the airship. Never mind Enterprise. Suffering humiliation at the hands of a rabble of mutants... It was the greatest disgrace of his entire life! Observing his commander's brooding countenance, the adjutant hesitated before murmuring, "...Should I attend in your stead?" "No need." A man who faced up to his actions after all, Lium cut him off with a darkened face, teeth clenched as he spat, "...I'll go myself!"