Chapter 699: Follow Me! Go Get Your Gear! (3/4)

Chapter 699: Follow Me! Go Get Your Gear! (3/4)

Almost everyone harbored this question in their minds, until the deafening roar of cannons and gunfire erupted beyond the walls.

Teams of guards rushed toward the walls in panic, taking cover behind the parapets to fire into the streets, but the barrage from outside was as ferocious as a tidal wave. Within minutes, over a dozen men fell from the walls, leaving a ghastly stain of blood on the open ground before the gate.

The slaves in the camps near the entrance were startled, scattering farther away, while beyond the camp’s perimeter, chaos blazed like a wildfire.

The Moonfolk besieging Lowell Camp had already left over two hundred corpses behind, and the casualties continued to mount.

Their combat prowess was far from formidable; they had only routed the already battered city guard through sheer numbers and a momentary surge of ferocity.

Though the guards within Lowell Camp were far less trained than the city guard under General Abinan, they had the advantage of a complete organizational structure and a favorable terrain, inflicting no small losses on the “First Corps of the Avengers’ Alliance” as it pressed the assault.

Seeing that the rioters were all thunder and no lightning, Warden Sunil, perched on the watchtower, mustered his courage once more and bellowed toward Blackwater Street.

“Ha! You shameless traitors! You dare try to breach the Emperor’s fortress? I think you’re still dreaming! Just wait—the Gray Wolf Army stationed by the Eternal River is on its way here. You’ll pay for your atrocities today!”

At the mention of the Gray Wolf Army’s fearsome name, many Moonfolk instinctively showed a flicker of fear, including their commander, Raxi.

But that flicker was only a flicker.

They had no retreat left now.

Watching the camp that refused to fall, the onlooker known as Murder’s Dagger grew impatient. Lowering his telescope, he spoke into the communication channel.

“Are we really not going to give them a hand?”

At this rate, many would die.

A calm reply came through the channel.

“They need to accomplish this themselves. No one can help them... Give them the captured 100mm cannon.”

Murder’s Dagger nodded.

“Understood.”

On the other side, at the corner of Blackwater Street, the Moonfolk warriors gathered behind the barricades began organizing a third assault. Sunil, still on the watchtower, seeing them at a loss, grew even more reckless, shouting insults beyond the walls.

“It’s useless! Give up! You filthy, lowly slaves! You can’t even aim! Shoot at me! Come on! Pah!”

Though he blustered, he never once exposed his head from behind the parapet; only the thirty-centimeter-thick concrete wall gave him any sense of safety.

Lowell Camp’s walls stood five stories high, entirely cast in concrete, with the thinnest section nearly two meters thick.

The camp housed five hundred guards, with a hundred-man squad assigned to each wall and a reserve squad for flexible response.

With the ammunition stored in the armory, he could hold out here until the end of time!

Staring at the unyielding fortress, Raxi’s face grew grim.

They had tried every method they could think of: hurling Molotov cocktails filled with pine oil and phosphorus, assembling makeshift catapults, even smoking them out.

Just then, several Moonfolk carrying shovels pushed a 100mm cannon out from a narrow alley.

“The Alliance brothers gave us this!”

Raxi’s eyes lit up, and he shouted to his comrades.

“Who knows how to fire it?”

Clearly, no one did.

But after a brief hesitation, a thin, dark-skinned man raised his hand.

“I’ve seen the city guard fire one! I can try!”

Without a second thought, Raxi grabbed his shoulder and pulled him to the cannon, pointing at the distant gate.

“It’s yours!”

The man nodded nervously, picked a pointed shell from the ammunition box, shoved it into the breech, and slammed the breechblock shut.

He signaled the nearby warriors to aim the barrel at the gate, then grabbed the lanyard and quickly stepped aside, shouting.

“Fire!”

As the word left his lips, he yanked the lanyard. A flash of explosive light lit up the entire alley, making the neighboring houses tremble.

A long, fiery streak shot toward the distant gate, leaving a gaping, inward-dented hole in the iron doors.

Raxi, steadying himself from the dust and covering his ears, saw the shattered gate and burst into joy.

“One more! Quick!”

Without needing his command, the hastily appointed artillerymen were already figuring out how to extract the shell casing and reload.

On the watchtower, Sunil saw the hole in the gate and nearly wet himself in terror; all his earlier arrogance vanished.

Then came the second cannon blast—another orange streak hurtling toward the closed iron door.

And then a third—

Finally, after five consecutive hits, the iron gate collapsed backward under the strain, raising a cloud of dust on the open ground.

Seeing the gate destroyed, the Moonfolk, whose morale had been wavering, regained hope of victory. They raised their rifles and charged toward the fallen gate.

“Charge!!!”

The roar of battle cries shattered even the smoke.

Watching the tide of rioters surge forward, the defenders on the walls could no longer contain their fear and began to retreat.

“Hold the line! Don’t let them in!”

Sunil scrambled down from the watchtower, shouting at the retreating guards, but he could not stem the tide of defeat.

The guards on the northeastern wall, in a desperate bid, flung open the gate and fled headlong toward the slums outside, discarding their clothes and weapons as they ran, leaving them for the curious onlookers to snatch up.

As the rioters closed in, Sunil’s face lost every trace of arrogance and pride, replaced by sheer terror and pleading. He stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“I—I was forced... I was just following orders...”

Before he could finish, a rifle butt slammed into his head, sending stars spinning before his eyes as he collapsed backward.

“Go to hell!”

The crowd swarmed him, stripped him naked, hacked him to death with knives, and hung his corpse on the watchtower where he had once stood.

One by one, the cages holding slaves were opened. Facing their familiar kin, the slaves’ expressions were initially bewildered, but soon, swept up by the fervor, they joined in.

The surrendered guards were gathered on the open ground and executed; no one listened to their pleas for mercy.

Blinded by rage, the Moonfolk slaughtered the Emperor’s dogs in the cruelest ways, avenging their fallen comrades in the siege.

Amid the pigeon-cage-like prison blocks, triumphant cheers resounded. Slaves, whether Moonfolk or not, joined in.

Murder’s Dagger, watching from a distance, reported the frontline situation once more.

“...Lowell Camp has fallen completely. I think we should take control as soon as possible. If we let them keep running wild, it’ll turn into a big mess.”

Fang Chang’s voice came through the channel.

“...Mm. This area is yours now. Also, the resettlement and training of the freed slaves. We need them to have some combat capability before the regular army arrives.”

Murder’s Dagger made a helpless face.

“You really gave me an ‘easy’ job.”

Fang Chang gave a faint smile and said.

"Work hard, I have high hopes for you!"

"I'll give it a try."

After ending the call, Murder Dagger waved his hand and led his squad of heavily armed brothers toward the direction of Lowell Camp.

This was an unorganized riot.

They were nothing like the "Pols" of Boulder City, who had a workers' union and a picture book that could barely be called a guiding ideology.

If left unchecked, the pent-up violence would soon be vented onto the ordinary survivors nearby, who were only too eager to watch the show.

After all, when they themselves were enslaved, those people had stood by and watched coldly. Now that they had guns in their hands, it was hard to say they wouldn't take out their anger on those weaker than themselves.

No—

It was almost certain.

Looking at the survivor named Rasi standing in the center of the camp, Murder Dagger walked up and offered him a cigarette.

Rasi was startled for a moment, then seeing it was the allies in exoskeletons, he grinned, took the cigarette, and put it between his lips.

"Thanks, brother. You'll always be our brothers. We'll remember your help today forever!"

"I hope you mean that." Murder Dagger took out a match, lit it for him, then lit one for himself.

After quietly finishing his cigarette, he looked into those beast-like eyes and continued.

"You've achieved a temporary victory. As you can see, the Empire is just a paper tiger. The Emperor's men are all a bunch of spineless eunuchs, hyenas in human skin."

"But even if they are hyenas in human skin, defeating them again and again won't be easy. Remember, a starving wolf can win once, even twice, but only a man can keep winning."

Rasi frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Murder Dagger: "I mean, restrain your men. The slaves here are not your spoils of war; they are your fellow survivors... I shouldn't have to remind you of that."

"Of course," Rasi said without hesitation. "How could I be like those beasts?"

"I hope so. I want our investment to be a good deal, at least not bringing us... some trouble of our own." Murder Dagger reminded him as tactfully as possible.

This self-defense counterattack was only authorized by the Alliance Constitution and the Player Handbook, granting players the right to launch limited counterattacks against any "neutral forces outside the whitelist" that actively attacked players.

As for the limits of such counterattacks, there were no clear provisions.

The dog-like game designers didn't stop them, meaning they hadn't violated the server rules.

But whether it went against the administrators' wishes was another matter.

This was, after all, a military operation without administrator authorization.

The Alliance was not taking the "Imperial path" but rather uniting the suffering survivors. As for how to unite them, that measure was in the players' own hands.

Barring any surprises, the administrators should have already received the report sent by the Ox-Horse airship.

And since no one had received an order to halt the military operation through the official mission system, it could only mean the administrators were taking a neutral stance on this operation for now.