Chapter 792: Cooperating from Within and Without

Chapter 792: Collaborating from Within and Without

In the southwestern part of Haiya Province, beneath a silent, ruined city, ugly heads bobbed and swayed.

In the pitch-black night, bare-chested mutants pushed wheelbarrows loaded with chunks of concrete and other construction debris, grunting as they hauled them toward the ongoing fortifications.

On the construction site, even more mutant laborers and squat goblins toiled under the crack of overseers' whips, working with all their might.

Using simple engineering tools, they stuffed the debris into woven bags and piled them alongside twisted rebar to build makeshift shelters that were far from sturdy but barely serviceable.

This expanse of concrete-and-steel ruins was one of the few places the Celestial Kingdom's gaze did not reach.

After all, no matter how pervasive the mycelium of Nago might be, it could not grow on concrete.

That was not all.

The Torch's most important research facility was nearby, and many of its researchers were still living humans.

The Church's attitude and treatment toward those of value versus those without were clearly different.

However, these circumstances had changed recently.

As the front-line situation deteriorated, the Church had less and less time to care about the feelings of those inside the facility.

Researchers who had once worked in Shelter No. 20 used to have opportunities to go outside for fresh air every day.

But ever since the mutants retreated to this area, their chances to go out had grown fewer and fewer.

The mutant tribe stationed here was the Flame Cave Clan, once active on the Ten-Peak Mountains. Their chieftain was named Borudo Flame Cave, commanding roughly five thousand followers.

After the Beast King's defeat, under the new king's orders, he led his forces to retreat to this area to rest and recover.

The Torch Church provided them with ample food, supplies, and human sacrifices for breeding, but they had to build the fortifications themselves.

Fortunately, this was not too difficult for them. Mutants were naturally adept at imitation and possessed a "I think it works" power that could turn decay into wonder.

Having glimpsed the Allied forces' fortifications from afar, they could replicate something similar by rote, even improving it to suit their needs.

For instance, the fortress they were building was like a monster made of garbage—not only were there crisscrossing bunkers and watchtowers above ground, but below, a network of tunnels of varying depths ran adjacent to one another.

Yet even so, their current situation was far from optimistic.

The Allied army had already landed on the coast, and those human things would eventually fight their way here. Time was running out; they had to finish both aboveground and underground shelters before the battle began.

At the edge of the fortifications, a few goblins crouched beneath a crumbling concrete structure.

One of them rubbed a stick in its hands, trying to start a fire with gathered dead leaves to roast the rats they had just caught and killed.

But just as the pile of leaves began to smoke, a broad palm suddenly smacked the back of its head, sending it flying.

The goblin let out a pitiful, terrified shriek, full of grievance and fear.

"The Apostle said no fires! The Alliance is in the sky—they can see the light on the ground!" the mutant chiliarch growled angrily, stepping forward to teach the goblin a harsh lesson, but a hand reached out and grabbed his shoulder.

"I told them to light the fire."

The chiliarch turned to see that the one gripping his shoulder was a warrior who had undergone mechanical modification.

His muscles were knotted, and his head was half green skin, half silver-gray metal.

In the Flame Cave Clan, mutants honored with the title of warrior were all formidable individuals, their status no less than that of centurions or even chiliarchs.

The chiliarch narrowed his eyes, unafraid, but spoke in a warning tone.

"You want to defy the chieftain's orders?"

The warrior stared back unflinchingly, forcing out words one by one.

"...Why should we listen to them? They're human things too!"

The chiliarch growled in a low voice.

"They're different—they'll help us!"

"Help us? You call this helping? We fight for them, believing they'll lead us to victory, and yet we've lost from the Ten-Peak Mountains all the way here, barely winning a single time! Now we have to live like savages, eating raw meat like beasts, not even allowed to roast it!"

The warrior stepped forward, his nose nearly touching the chiliarch's face, and continued viciously.

"Why did we have to provoke so many human things at once? Before the Torch stirred up this mess, they had no time for us!"

The chiliarch glared at him provocatively.

"Are you afraid?"

Unmoved by the provocation, the warrior stared back.

"I'm not afraid of those human things—I just think it's unnecessary—"

Before he could finish, a dangerous omen suddenly struck from above.

It happened in an instant, leaving him no time to react. The blast wave from the explosion sent him flying until he crashed into a broken concrete wall.

All that remained on the ground were scattered limbs; the chiliarch who had confronted him was gone.

He struggled to sit up, shook his head, and looked around in panic and confusion, not knowing what had just happened, only hearing the frantic shouts and screams across the fortifications.

But soon he understood.

A flash of fire streaked through the air, followed by a whistling sound and an explosion that rang out across the position.

This blast came from the fortifications about a hundred meters to his left, where laborers hauling building materials were blown sky-high.

"Roar—!"

The mutant warrior, buried in rubble, let out a furious roar, trying to drive away the fear in his chest, trying to scare off the threat from above, but found it useless.

The thunderous cannon fire continued unabated.

Yet what puzzled him was that no flame had risen—how were the Alliance people aiming at them?

...

At the same time, a thousand meters up, a "Overlord" transport plane with its side door open circled, propelled by four plasma jets.

From the open side door, a long, thick cannon barrel extended outward.

Three players in exoskeletons stood behind the cannon: one busy aiming, one loading, and one peering through binoculars at the impact point.

"Direct hit! Damn, that shot took out at least ten!"

"Haha! Hell yeah, mounting this 155mm on a plane is awesome!"

"Let me have a go in a bit—"

"Reloaded!"

"Fire!!"

With a violent boom, a long, thick tongue of flame shot out from the side of the cabin. The immense recoil made the massive fuselage shudder slightly.

In moments, the explosion's fire bloomed rapidly on the ground.

The blast and dust swallowed over a dozen mutants along with the goblin imps beside them.

In truth, their "blackout control" on the fortifications was entirely unnecessary.

Under the gaze of thermal imaging sights, the glowing human figures were as bright as LED lights.

Some clever ones began playing dead on the ground, while the foolish ones crowded frantically into a building.

"Armor-piercing shells! Now!"

With his eye pressed against the sight, [Ice and Fire Bro] shouted to the loader behind him, then turned the winch to align the scope with a low concrete bunker. At least thirty or forty mutants had run toward that spot earlier, with a few more crammed at the entrance, unable to squeeze inside. The bunch clearly had no idea how foolish their actions were.

After calculating the lead, he yanked the lanyard without hesitation. The explosive smoke from the shell once again merged with the clouds outside the cabin. The round struck the top of the bunker directly. The primary warhead detonated first, breaching the concrete shelter, followed by the secondary warhead exploding in quick succession, shaking the entire structure.

But just then, a startling scene unfolded. The shell had only two stages, yet the building it struck erupted in a third explosion. And this final blast was no small matter—a crackling sound like firecrackers, blinding flames that completely obliterated the concrete structure, sending debris flying a hundred meters into the sky.

Not only were the greenskins hiding inside and those crammed at the entrance blown to pieces, but even the mutants and goblins forty or fifty meters away were mowed down by the shockwave and shrapnel.

[Spicy Duck Head], holding binoculars, widened his eyes and couldn't help but exclaim, "Holy shit... did they just hit an ammo depot?"

"Probably," [Ice and Fire Bro] replied casually, gesturing to the strength-type beast loading behind him, while scanning for the next target. "Those guys were probably trying to grab guns when they crowded in... They're not exactly the sharpest tools in the shed."

The mounting casualties had clearly enraged the mutants on the ground. Hidden among the ruins, anti-aircraft guns spat tongues of flame, tracer rounds drifting like willow catkins into the night sky, trying to drive off the "Overlord" circling above.

Seeing the situation below, [Bread Brother] in the cockpit pushed the throttle to increase engine power. The plumes from the four plasma engines stretched longer.

"Hold steady!"

Hearing the voice over the comms, the three players standing by the side hatch quickly sat back down and fastened their seatbelts securely.

Just as the modified 155mm artillery-equipped "Overlord" transport accelerated to evade, four P-2 "Lightning" attack planes swooped in from the south! Each attack plane locked onto two anti-air positions, then opened fire almost simultaneously, raining down a hail of 37mm armor-piercing incendiary rounds!

"Pew—!"

The mutants crouched at the anti-air positions, focused solely on firing at the airborne gunship, didn't even have a chance to hear the roar of the cannons before they and their cover were torn to shreds by the fiery rain from above. The entire position reeked of burnt flesh, with countless mutants and goblins, knocked down by shrapnel, writhing and wailing on the shattered ground, not even knowing where the enemy was.

One after another, P-2 "Lightning" attack planes streaked past above the dust of the explosions.

"Nice work!"

Seeing the chaos on the ground, [Bread Brother] laughed and shouted over the comms, then pulled back the throttle, nearly maxed out, and steered the plane back onto the predetermined attack path. The 155mm artillery piece, still on its rail, slid back to the hatch, extended, and resumed firing.

With their anti-air capabilities completely crippled, the mutants had lost all means of resistance. They began retreating into cover, trying to endure the airstrike by tightening their defenses. But they clearly didn't realize that the Alliance's operation tonight wasn't just about bagging a few kills. Four "Overlord" transports, fully loaded with Burning Legion paratroopers, had followed the tail of the P-2 "Lightning" attack planes straight into the battlefield!

Seeing the paratroopers approaching, [Bread Brother] glanced at the ground situation, then switched comm channels and shouted, "Enemy anti-air positions are neutralized! Ground units are moving into cover! Brothers of the Burning Legion, it's your turn!"

A brief crackle of static came through the comms, followed by a resolute reply: "Roger that!"

At that very moment, parachutes blossomed in the night sky. Soldiers in exoskeletons, riding the boisterous evening wind, descended from above onto the battlefield. The mutants hiding in cover had no idea that a battalion of mechanized infantry had silently landed right on top of them.

These warriors were the elite of the Alliance! Though they weren't as specialized in slaughtering mutants as the Jungle Legion, their combat prowess was undeniable. They stood ready, with flames burning in their chests to incinerate the evil that eroded order, and with blades in hand to bring death to the Alliance's enemies!

"Attention all units! Operation codename 'Quicksand'! Objective: eliminate all enemy combatants! No retreat plan! Fight to the last moment—until the enemy or all of us fall! Open fire!"

The roar of morale echoed through the comms, excitement burning in the pupils beneath their helmets.

"Yes!!"

The first to storm the concrete bunker was the First Platoon of Second Company, First Battalion. Thirty players in exoskeletons, split into three-by-three squads, struck like sharp daggers from nine different directions, plunging deep into the mutants hiding in cover. Caught completely off guard by the Alliance's ground forces, the greenskins panicked, fumbling for weapons to return fire, but were still caught flat-footed.

The rat-a-tat of gunfire echoed through the tunnels. Under the hail of bullets, mutants fell one after another. Within seconds, the entrance to the bunker's first defensive line was littered with bodies.

"Charge! Block them!" roared a mutant sent to the front to replace the slain centurion, shoving the minions beside him forward. Amid the shouting, a hastily assembled hundred-man squad finally surged into the bunker's front hall, exchanging fire with the Alliance soldiers who had breached the main entrance!

Dense bullets zipped through the narrow space—the battle was fiercely intense!

Pressing his shoulder tight against the cover, [Mistaken Fate] gestured to the brother beside him, who quickly understood. He drew a flare gun, loaded a signal round, and fired it forward. The flare slammed into the wall, then went silent, as still as a stone. But the restless high-frequency radio waves had already transmitted the attack coordinates to the night sky!

"Artillery in position! Take cover!" [Mistaken Fate] shouted, then stopped firing first.

"Roger!" The other players also ducked, pressing their helmets against the cover, activating shock-absorbing modules, bracing for the blast.

Seeing the enemy's firepower suddenly cease, the mutant centurion commanding the front line felt a surge of joy. Just as he thought his side's fierce barrage had successfully suppressed the invaders, a deafening explosion came from above. In a daze, he caught a glimpse of a dark shadow smashing through the concrete ceiling above, then landing squarely not far behind him.

"Boom!"

Dust billowed! Before he could turn to see what had happened, the secondary explosion's flames yanked him from behind his cover and hurled him against the ceiling!

"Owww—!!"

In that furious roar, the bunker's first defensive line quickly fell. The ground was strewn with shattered flesh and green limbs.

"First line secured! Pushing toward the second line!"

"Casualties?"

"None so far!"

"Nice work!"

Hearing the report from two hundred meters away, [Killer's Dagger], who had just touched the ground, couldn't help but exclaim in excitement. Intelligence indicated there were about a thousand mutants stationed in this area. If this momentum kept up, maybe their battalion of over four hundred brothers could cut straight through the mutant position, driving this feint's bayonet deep into the heart of the Torch Church!

With that thought, he roared excitedly over the comms.

"Press the attack! Give the enemy no room to breathe!"

Yin Chai Yang Cuo gave an eager, excited cry of assent.

"Yes, sir!"

The squad that had breached the bunker continued to push forward, colliding in a chaotic, tangled brawl with the mutants surging up from the rear!

From that very moment, the bloody meat grinder truly ground to life!

Yin Chai Yang Cuo, who had initially been advancing with irresistible momentum, finally began to feel the heavy weight of exhaustion creeping in.

Especially after the gunship ran out of its bunker-buster munitions; more mutant brutes, "Warriors," and even "Champions" flooded the field, turning the tide of the battle increasingly grim.

These mutants were, after all, quite different from the mere rabble found on the Peak of Ten Mountains.

During the Charras era, North Island Heavy Industries had designed far more advanced infantry weapons for them.

This included mutant-specific assault rifles explicitly meant to pierce polyethylene ballistic plates, as well as several portable anti-armor weapons, such as armor-piercing grenade launchers and rocket-propelled grenades.

These pieces of equipment, crafted by human engineers, pushed the mutants' innate physical strength to its absolute limit!

Furthermore—

As more and more players breached the bunker, the mutants stubbornly holding the fortifications finally realized tonight's raid was far more than a simple airstrip strike!

The Alliance had deployed airborne troops!

They had no intention of hitting and running; they meant to occupy this place entirely!

This campaign would decide the very survival of the Flame Cave Clan!

"Stop them! At any cost!"

Borudo Flame Cave roared from the deepest recesses of the bunker. He tossed aside the half-eaten roasted human in his hands and stood to his full height, his four-meter-tall frame clad in heavy armor.

The sheer scale of his presence was as exaggerated as that of a mythical behemoth.

Spurred on by his majestic, booming roar, the greenskins fighting on the front lines whipped themselves into a state of absolute frenzy, charging forward with wild shrieks of "Waaagh!!!"

"Damn it... how are there more and more of these greenskins?!" A strength-build player could not help but complain, using an axe to sever a greenskin's head.

Wiping away the blood splattered across his helmet visor, a gunner clutching a light machine gun cursed under his breath.

"Just how many of these bastards are there?! I'm almost out of ammo!"

Another player spoke, gasping heavily for breath.

"Our company has... killed at least a thousand of them! There's no way there's only one thousand-man regiment here! It's probably a damn ten-thousand-man legion!"

"Not necessarily... that would be too ridiculous!"

Cutting off the chatter in the communication channel, Sharen Zhi Bi felt a faint numbness creep across his scalp.

"---Fang Chang, you son of a bitch!"

Though he had no idea what this had to do with Fang Chang, he cursed the wretched scoundrel anyway out of sheer habit.

Quickly switching communication channels, Sharen Zhi Bi roared loudly into his walkie-talkie.

"This is First Battalion!"

"There are more mutants on the front lines than we anticipated. We need ammunition! Drop some more down!"

After a brief pause, a reply crackled through the channel.

"Supplies are en route, scheduled to arrive in ten minutes along with the 'Overlord' gunship."

Hearing that the Goblin Corps' gunship was turning back, joy flashed across Sharen Zhi Bi's face. He immediately toggled back to the command channel and shouted to his teammates.

"Hold the line, brothers! Our air support will be back online in ten minutes!"

"Awoooo!"

Upon hearing that support would arrive in ten minutes, the crowd erupted into a morale-boosting roar—so fierce that the mutants opposite them were visibly startled, momentarily confused as to who the real monsters were...

The boiling fires of war finally caught the attention of the Torch underground facility.

Presumably deeming the Flame Cave Clan to still be of some use, or perhaps considering the dire consequences should the Alliance's paratroopers seize this sector, the Torch commander finally lost his patience and deployed the guard unit stationed at the entrance of Vault 20---the "Holy Light" Knights.

Unlike the Judgment squads tasked with special operations.

The organizational structure of Torch's various knight orders closely resembled the Alpha Tactical Mobile Force, making them far better suited for the frontal battlefield than the tribunals' small squads.

Soldiers clad in heavy exoskeletons and even power armor moved in orderly ranks, advancing through the winding, twisting fortifications toward the mutant positions to reinforce them.

At this very moment, Sharen Zhi Bi remained unaware that danger was already closing in on his flank.

Though even if he had known, it likely would not have mattered.

After all, his First Battalion was merely executing a feint; even if they failed to fight their way to the entrance of Vault 20 to rendezvous with the main force, it would be nothing more than a slight pity.

At the exact same time the battle in the abandoned city district reached a fever pitch, the main force of the Burning Brigade had already boarded the "Viper" transport aircraft, quietly deploying near the entrance of Vault 20.

It was a pre-war pharmaceutical company building.

Its severely damaged exterior made it impossible to discern which specific corporation the building had belonged to, yet its structural frame remained intact.

Fixed cameras installed by Torch monitored the adjacent streets.

Not only that, but drones hovered and patrolled nearby, creating an undeniably tight web of security!

Torch likely knew the Alliance was equipped with a vast array of thermal imaging devices, so they placed no sentries in the open, hiding the majority of their outposts in the shadows.

However, they clearly had not anticipated that this heavily fortified citadel had already begun to fracture from within.

Silence draped the quiet streets, broken only by the low hum of drone propellers.

Just then, a single drone quietly veered off its designated patrol route.

It stealthily glided past the display window of an abandoned shop, slipped into the alley behind the building, and landed feather-light beside the boot of a suit of power armor.

It flew rapidly, seemingly driven by a flicker of agitation, nearly colliding with a rusted dumpster along the way.

"...Help me."

As Lao Bai tapped his index finger twice against his helmet, an electronic voice laced with static noise drifted into his ears.

Listening to that pleading voice, Lao Bai gave a concise, brief reply.

"We came here precisely to help you. Lead us in now."

The drone hovered upward slowly, its bobbing motion resembling a nod.

"The surveillance has been hacked. Only the tribunal's Judgment squads remain in the building, twenty-seven people in total... Please follow me, I will take you inside."

Lao Bai glanced back, raising his right hand into a fist before sweeping it forward with clean precision.

One hundred Type-6 heavy exoskeletons and twenty Xiaguang power armors materialized silently beneath the shadows of the ruins.

The murderous armor gleamed with a cold, grim light in the dark of night, matched by rows of hollow, black gun barrels.

Though only a single company's worth of troops stood here, in terms of sheer combat capability, these battle-hardened veterans were confident they could match any regiment-sized unit in their faction.

Because of this, they harbored no fear that this might be a trap.

Even if it were, it mattered not.

They would simply trample this place into the dust!

At this moment, the Hunter, stationed with the Judgment Squad in the abandoned building, remained utterly unaware of the threat so close at hand, having no idea that the external surveillance and patrolling drones had all been taken down by the mole inside the shelter.

The night wind was especially boisterous tonight, blowing so that he felt a slight chill on his neck.

He was still thinking about what the Saint had said to him earlier—

“The Heaven of Haiya Province is beyond recovery, but that doesn’t mean we’ve lost… So does that mean we’ve been abandoned?”

That statement was indeed hard to interpret as them having any other cards up their sleeves; if they really did, they wouldn’t have waited until after the Alliance landed on Death Coast to use them.

Thinking of this, a bitter smile crept across the Hunter’s face.

Though he knew the Forerunners intended to leave, he didn’t feel betrayed in his heart—more than anything, it was just helplessness.

The poison left behind by the Post-War Reconstruction Committee ran too deep.

Facing the encirclement of the old forces, they were isolated and without support, with not a shred of hope for victory.

Perhaps the coming of Heaven had been too hasty; if only they had prepared more thoroughly.

For instance, waiting until the Legion, the Academy, and the Corporation were locked in conflict with each other, or until they were drawn into some other greater crisis…

Just then, footsteps sounded behind him.

The Hunter’s heart suddenly jolted; he whirled around to see a suit of power armor standing there.

It was a pre-war model, seemingly called a “Dragoon”!

But whatever it was called didn’t matter—this guy was clearly not one of their own!

Without time to think about why this power armor had appeared here, he wasted no words in taking the Gauss rifle off his back, flipping off the safety, and readying himself for battle.

Yet the man acted as if he hadn’t seen it—or if he had, he didn’t care—simply taking out an axe that looked utterly unremarkable.

That thing was a bit like a fire axe.

The contempt from across the way made him feel a sting of humiliation.

But the Hunter wasn’t provoked into anger; he just stared fixedly at the figure before him, carefully searching for any flaw in that power armor.

“Judgment Squad, is it… I hear the newbies in the corps have had a rough time with you.”

Looking at this fellow, also clad in power armor and assuming a stance as if facing a great enemy, Old Bai said with a hearty laugh.

“Let’s have a couple of rounds, you and me.”