Chapter 795: Annihilate Them All!

Chapter 795: Annihilated to the Last!

As the most elite "Mechanized Infantry Company" of the Burning Legion plunged into the battlefield, the precarious situation for the First Battalion was instantly reversed.

Amid the shattered ruins, pale red arcs of light flickered continuously; each flash marked a heavy infantryman's armor being cleaved open by a searing metal jet.

Old White, wielding his thermal cutting axe, took down one foe after another with a few resounding blows, sending the Holy Light Knights' power armor staggering and tearing a breach in their line.

The Holy Light Knights' formation was swiftly split into two, thrown into chaos within the dark, narrow ruins.

The entire battle devolved into a one-sided slaughter.

Not only that, but the Cloud Dragonfly ornithopters ambushed near the city also launched their assault!

Guided by the ground forces' fire direction, rockets from the launchers poured out en masse. With a series of deafening explosions, the Holy Light Knights' flank positions were instantly engulfed in a sea of flames.

The scorching heat wave even melted the steel buried in concrete, leaving bodies clad in exoskeletons strewn haphazardly across the ground.

Watching his comrades fall in droves, the Holy Light Knights' commander fixed a hateful gaze on the "Dragoon" wielding the short axe, forcing out a single sentence through clenched teeth.

"...Long live the Heavenly Kingdom!"

His pupils gradually turned blood-red, wisps of searing white mist escaping his lips. His skin twisted as if scalded by boiling water, sprouting strands of fleshy red hyphae that fused with the armor covering his body.

He had offered everything to the Heavenly Kingdom—his mind and his flesh—in exchange for supreme power.

Having merged with the unstable gene serum, he had now become a complete monster.

But he no longer cared.

If he couldn't witness the Heavenly Kingdom descending upon the land beneath his feet, then let him die in the last second of its collapse!

"Roar—!"

The furious roar echoed through the ruins as he charged toward the Dragoon power armor with heavy steps, pouring all his strength into his twisted right arm.

From that arm, a crimson tendril extended like a sharp spear, thrusting fiercely amid his enraged bellow!

He was utterly confident he could tear apart this insignificant ant daring to block his path.

Yet, just as the crimson tendril was about to collide with the Dragoon power armor, something he could never believe happened.

The unremarkable short axe struck his faceplate with unimaginable speed.

"Clang—!"

In a daze, he heard only a heavy, dull sound piercing the steel before his forehead, and then the scalding, magma-like heat flooded into his skull, extinguishing the last shred of his consciousness.

"Rest in peace."

Looking at the monster now dead before him, Old White casually tossed out these words and kicked it aside.

The exchange of fire in the ruins continued, but the battle was nearing its end.

After the last Holy Knight fell, the Holy Light Knights were soon completely wiped out.

The remaining pressure then fell upon the Flame Cavern Clan.

Facing the players' increasingly ferocious assault, even though the ruins held thousands of mutants, they found it harder and harder to resist.

This was not Ten Peaks Mountain after all; there were no winding tunnels for them to maneuver and hide.

The meter-thick concrete domes were like paper before the 155mm bunker-buster shells, and the Alliance's artillery seemed to have eyes, often mowing down whole swaths of them with a single heavy round.

As more and more of his subordinates fell and the flames of war licked at his own doorstep, Boludo Flame Cavern, despite a thousand reluctances to face these terrifying foes, had no choice but to steel himself and step forward.

Clad in heavy ballistic armor designed by North Island Heavy Industries, he gripped a 10mm assault rifle and sprayed wildly at the Alliance's positions.

The concentrated bullets shredded an entire concrete wall into rubble, exposing the rebar within.

But the Alliance soldiers were not behind it; they had long since taken cover elsewhere.

A 19mm bolt round slammed into Boludo's shoulder, the searing metal jet burning through his shoulder bone, drawing a pained cry from him.

Given the mutants' terrifying vitality and regenerative abilities, this injury was far from lethal, but the first bolt round to hit his shoulder was only the beginning.

A hail of bullets rained down upon him, sparking bursts of fire across his armor.

Unable to withstand the relentless assault, Boludo could only retreat awkwardly behind cover.

Yet he never expected that this retreat would become unstoppable; he and his men were driven deep into the lair by the fierce firepower.

Seeing no way back, Boludo, now bloodshot with rage, charged out of cover once more with a roar.

"Flame Cavern never surrenders! Never!"

The deafening roar did not intimidate anyone; the players surrounding him paid it no mind.

Raising an RPG, the sneaky corner-dweller fired and cursed without hesitation.

"Who the hell asked if you surrender? Just die already!"

The armor-piercing round trailed a thin white smoke and struck Boludo square in the chest.

With a thunderous blast, the searing metal jet punched a massive hole through him.

"Ahhh!!"

Boludo howled in agony, his right index finger still clamped on the trigger, his rifle spraying wildly, though its accuracy grew increasingly pitiful.

He was like a beast caught in a trap, making futile struggles at the cage's edge.

In the end, like countless other bosses slain by players time and again, he breathed his last in a resentful roar, crashing heavily to the ground, ending his wretched life.

With the chieftain's death, the last shred of resistance from the Flame Cavern Clan was brutally snuffed out.

Gazing at the bullet-riddled walls and the corpses strewn everywhere, the players standing on the ruins felt their blood surge within.

They had triumphed!

They had not only won this battle, overcoming a once-formidable foe, but had also achieved the ultimate victory of the entire war—driving every last torch of chaos and plague from this land!

The exhilarating thrill immersed them; the blood caked on their exoskeletons was like medals of honor.

Countless enlightened souls had fought from south to north, and now, at this moment, it had borne fruit—

"Long live the Alliance!"

Someone shouted, and the electrifying cry spread across the battlefield like wildfire.

"Long live the Administrator!"

"Oorah!!"

The dawn rising from the horizon dispelled the last shadow lingering over the city.

Only then did many realize they had been fighting all night.

After confirming no enemy survivors remained, Old White arranged for the recovery of fallen comrades' gear and enemy loot, while also tallying the casualties of each squad.

The First Battalion's losses were devastating: originally at full strength of 400, only 50 remained, most of them wounded.

Though as a diversionary force, they had been prepared for total sacrifice, the grim numbers still sent chills down their spines.

As for Old White's Mechanized Infantry Company, the dead and severely wounded totaled just thirty, including six heavy units in power armor—a testament to the battle's ferocity!

Yet in contrast, the Burning Legion's achievements in this campaign were equally remarkable.

A total of 5,221 mutants were killed, including 200 Named Warriors and various extreme variants.

Additionally, another 437 Torch extremists were slain by the players in the battle.

Beyond the kills gained in combat, the players also discovered a large number of black boxes in Vault 20.

These included not only the black boxes that Torch had originally taken from Vault 117 for synthesizing bionic organs, but also some that Torch had obtained from other places.

For instance, black boxes for synthesizing "optical camouflage modules," and those for generating "Destroyer I" exoskeletons, among others.

Although the Alliance's current industrial capabilities no longer rely on black boxes, and they can even produce and research complex equipment like power armor on their own, clearly no one would refuse such a convenient and useful "wishing machine."

Moreover, even the Alliance has things it cannot produce.

For example, bionic organs and chips.

Apart from the black boxes, the Alliance's greatest gain was the 571 researchers captured in Vault 20.

Among them were some Blue Coats from other vaults, and a very few E- and D-level surveyors from the Institute, even D-level researchers!

Torch had always made distinctions in how they treated captives.

Captives with knowledge were generally put to good use.

After all, Heaven was a systematic project; completing it could not rely on just a dozen pioneers—it required low-level researchers to handle the foundational work.

Only wastelanders with no value were fed Nectar and sent to be breeding beds for mutants.

For ease of management, Torch had locked away almost all the top minds they had scoured from the wasteland in Vault 20, which also made it convenient for the players to "cash out."

Standing on the Viper transport, Kaelen, her consciousness linked to the android body, looked anxiously at Fang Chang and asked nervously.

"...You will help repair my body, right?"

"Of course, we keep our word." Standing outside the cabin, Fang Chang said succinctly.

A trace of disbelief lingered in Kaelen's eyes, but for now, she had no better option than to trust these people.

As the plane was about to take off, she seemed to think of something and spoke up.

"Wait, aren't you coming on the plane with me?"

Fang Chang: "We still have things to do here."

Kaelen: "I could stay and help too, since my brain is here and can't leave—"

Looking at this chatterbox, Fang Chang sighed and patiently explained.

"Someone wants to see you. To put her at ease, I'll need you to go meet her first."

Kaelen stared at him blankly.

"Who?"

"Hya."

"Hya... that name again," Kaelen's face twisted in anguish, her hands clutching her head, fingers digging into her hair. "I told you, I don't know her..."

Fang Chang: "Enough, stop complaining. She's probably the only one who can help you now."

Kaelen looked at him cautiously and asked.

"...Didn't you say you would help me?"

"I want to help you, but unfortunately, my knowledge of biology is limited to what's in textbooks..."

Not wanting to hear any more of her nonsense, Fang Chang gestured to the cockpit.

"Safe travels."

The pilot gave him a thumbs-up and then started the engine.

"Wait, wait—"

Kaelen tried to say more, but the roaring wind quickly swallowed her words.

After seeing her off, Fang Chang turned and walked back to the battlefield being cleaned up.

Earlier, another transport had dropped supplies; the airdrop crates contained not only three times the standard ammunition but also three times the standard meal portions of boxed lunches.

Awakened ones had far greater appetites than ordinary people, and the players had just been through a fierce battle.

Many were already starving; they quickly tore open the crates and squatted on the ground to eat.

Fang Chang also got a boxed lunch. Just as he opened the chopsticks, he saw Wall Corner Lao Liu approaching.

"Our drones in the sky spotted a unit approaching from the northwest, only 10 kilometers away, about the size of a regiment."

Fang Chang picked up a piece of roasted chicken with his chopsticks and tossed it into his mouth, asking casually.

"Enemy or ally?"

Wall Corner Lao Liu: "It's the Legion."

The Legion...

Fang Chang frowned slightly.

It seemed the commotion last night had been too loud; this thousand-man unit had probably been on the move for a while.

"I understand. Leave it to me."

With that, he wolfed down the rest of his boxed lunch in a few quick bites, then opened the map on his VM and headed toward where Old Bai was.

At that moment, Old Bai was in the nearby ruins.

Just as they were cleaning the battlefield, they had discovered a dungeon deep within the mutant camp.

Initially, the players thought that the Flame Cave Clan, having recently moved from Ten-Peak Mountain to this area, wouldn't have had time to take prisoners.

Moreover, the survivors of the Seacliff Province had all been wiped out by Torch, so there should have been no one for them to capture. No one expected to find a mutant dungeon here.

But when the players cleaning the battlefield lifted the lid, everyone was shocked by what they saw.

In that cramped space, tens of thousands of people were packed tightly together!

Among them were men, women, and children... but no elderly.

Most were gaunt and sallow, their eyes dull and lifeless, their numb faces devoid of any vitality, as if they had endured endless suffering.

From their appearance, they had likely been there for quite some time—at least half a year, if not a year.

Without a doubt, these were mostly survivors of the Seacliff Province!

Perhaps for experimental purposes, or to feed the mutants, the Torch Church had not exterminated all the local survivors, leaving a few behind.

After learning about the dungeon, Old Bai immediately reported the discovery to the rear, then redirected the players cleaning the battlefield to the dungeon, prioritizing the survivors' needs.

Since there were still surplus supplies from the airdrop, after transferring the survivors out in batches, they distributed the extra food to them.

Perhaps having not eaten human food in so long, when the survivors received the boxed lunches, they didn't know how to start.

Some of the quickest to recover carefully took spoons, scooped up the food, and put it in their mouths, tears welling up in their eyes.

"Thank you... thank you so much. I don't know how to express my gratitude."

Looking at the benefactor who had saved him from the mutants and given him food, the ragged man babbled incoherently, as if he wanted to kneel and kowtow right there.

Killing Dagger quickly grabbed the survivor's arm and said with a smile.

"You're welcome. This is just a small effort for us."

"You've done a small favor, but to me it's a lifesaving grace!" the man said emotionally. "My name is Li Junming, a survivor from nearby Willow Tree Village. If there's ever anything you need me for, please don't hesitate to ask... Oh, I forgot to ask—what should I call you?"

"I'm... uh, just call me Kill Dagger," said Kill Dagger, coughing awkwardly, not wanting to explain his username, regretting he hadn't picked a more normal name. He quickly changed the subject. "Actually, no need to thank me. We're all soldiers of the Alliance. Thank the Alliance instead!"

"The Alliance is..."

A trace of confusion flickered in the man's eyes; clearly he had never heard the term.

But that was hardly surprising.

When the Torch had fully conquered the Coastal Province, not only had the Alliance not yet been born, but even Dawn City didn't exist. The entire Clear Springs region was still under the control of Boulder City.

The Coastal Province was remote; at most, it might have had some civilian exchanges with settlements in the southern part of Jinchuan Province, and they might not even know where Boulder City was.

Kill Dagger smiled.

"That's right, the Alliance—a union of all survivors united. Our goal is to end this wretched wasteland... Anyway, you're saved now. We'll get you out of this hellhole as soon as possible."

The "Overlord" transport aircraft lacked vertical takeoff and landing capabilities, so evacuating them by plane wasn't realistic.

But the coastline wasn't far from here—just over a hundred kilometers.

Now that they had taken out the Torch's main base, they could wait for ground forces to push through here, then use trucks to move the survivors to the coast.

Following past practice, the Alliance would likely build a new settlement near the coastline to house survivors displaced by the Torch.

Standing at the edge of the group of survivors, Old Bai suddenly noticed a boy, not quite grown, staring intently at him.

Or rather, at the bloodstained power armor he was wearing.

Indeed, guns and mechs were a man's romance, whether in reality or in games.

Seeing a glimmer of longing in the eyes of that solitary child, Old Bai walked over, crouched in front of the boy, lifted his helmet's visor, and gave a friendly smile.

"My name's Old Bai. What's yours?"

"...Wang Rui."

"And your parents?"

"Dead."

Old Bai thought for a moment, unsure how to comfort the child.

But then something occurred to him. He smiled and ruffled the kid's hair.

"Wait here for me."

With that, he stood up and walked over to where the gear of fallen comrades was piled. He picked out an exoskeleton that was damaged beyond repair and pried off the Burning Legion's badge from its shattered chest plate.

Usually, when players purchased standard equipment, they'd add their own DIY markings to increase identification.

The Burning Legion's emblem, for instance, consisted of a flame-shaped banner and a power armor standing amid the flames—

Symbolizing that they were always ready to burn themselves for the Alliance, always appearing on the most dangerous battlefields.

Returning to the boy, Old Bai handed him the badge.

"I'm sorry about your parents. All we can do is save the living... This is our emblem. I hope it brings you some courage for the rest of your life."

The boy took the badge, his eyes wide, staring in astonishment at the soldier who called himself Old Bai. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he stammered,

"Are you sure it's okay for me to have this?"

He loved the gift but felt it was too precious to accept.

"What's the big deal? One day when we're gone, you'll have to carry it on."

Old Bai grinned, gave the boy an encouraging pat on the shoulder, and gently nudged him.

"Go on. Stay with your people. Comfort those who haven't yet moved past their pain. You might have to stay here for a couple of days, and then we'll send someone to move you to a safe place."

Blushing, the boy said thank you, clutched the badge of honor tightly in his palm, then turned and ran off.

Watching the kid disappear into the crowd, Old Bai clapped his hands with a smile and stood up.

He felt like he'd just done something similar to what the Administrator would do.

But that seemed normal enough.

After all, you are known by the company you keep.

Humans are social animals. Spend enough time together, and you inevitably learn from and influence each other.

Back then, he had led them to change the wasteland. Now it was their turn.

Just then, a familiar voice came from behind.

"Having NPCs carry on our legion's legacy might be a bit tough. After all, they only have one life, while we learned parachuting by dying from falls."

Turning to see Fang Chang approaching, Old Bai laughed heartily.

"Haha, you've got a point, but I think it's precisely because they only have one life that they can better pass on our traditions."

"Oh?"

Old Bai grinned and continued.

"Life and death make us human. What never changes is stone. They are the ones who truly belong to this world; we are just passersby... That's how I feel."

"Maybe. But I feel the opposite—I'm starting to feel more and more like I belong to this world."

Not dwelling on the topic, Fang Chang ended it with an ambiguous remark and then continued.

"Let's get down to business. The Legion is here."

Old Bai raised an eyebrow.

"That fast?"

"Yeah," Fang Chang nodded, his expression serious. "Chances are, the moment we made our move, they noticed us."