Chapter 729: The Battle of Ten Peaks Mountain!

Chapter 729: The Battle of Ten Peaks Mountain!

*Wasteland OL* Forum.

Garbage Picker Level 99: “?”

Quit Smoking: “?”

Tail: “⊙ω⊙?”

I Want Peace: “?”

Garbage Picker Level 99: “??????”

WC There Really Are Mosquitoes: “Pfft hahahaha!”

Garbage Picker Level 99: “Damn! What are you laughing at! (Angry) (Angry)”

Night Ten: “You didn’t say either. (Funny)”

Irena: “Though I can probably guess… Anyway, my heart goes out to Garbage-kun. (Funny)”

WC There Really Are Mosquitoes: “Does it even need guessing? (Funny)”

Elven King Wealth: “Sigh, this game is way too real. (Funny)”

Garbage Picker Level 99: “@#%&!”

…

Below Ten Peaks Mountain.

The riverbed steamed with wisps of heat.

The boiling flames, like a sun fallen to the earth, instantly evaporated a river channel nearly a hundred meters wide!

The once lush green reeds on both banks had turned to ash, drifting slowly with the smoke of the explosives.

A massive crater was stamped in the center of the hundred-meter-wide river channel, and the shockwave of the explosion had swept over a kilometer away!

As for the mutants who had stood there, they were blasted into nothing, not even ashes remaining.

Only the one collapsed by the riverbank still had a shred of strength to whimper and wail.

But that was all.

A thousand-strong mutant force, caught completely off guard, was annihilated in an instant—half of them gone!

And the little ones who followed the big green brutes into battle—their casualties were beyond counting!

Hiding behind a protruding rock halfway up the mountain, overlooking the battlefield, Forcing Difficulties wore a look of utter shock.

He would have believed it if someone said a comet had struck.

Though it wasn’t a nuclear weapon, its power seemed little different from some small-yield tactical nukes.

Even considering the depth of the crater, this thing’s effect on fixed fortifications might even surpass conventional nuclear arms!

After all, while yield and damage are positively correlated, they aren’t identical—one must also consider damage type, transmission medium, damage radius, and energy decay.

Watching the crater slowly fill with river water, he silently traced a self-made symbol of the Great Horned Rat Cult on his chest, muttering “Mama mia, mama mia” under his breath.

A half-second of prayer for Garbage-kun…

…

Not only the little rat on the mountainside was peeping, but also a research ship drifting over a dozen kilometers away.

Watching the column of smoke rising hundreds of meters, Yang Kai, sitting in the driver’s seat, clicked his tongue lightly, a sneer of disdain on his face.

“So this is what they call something formidable… Barbarian toys.”

Just as he expected.

The explosive charge in this 902mm shell was probably modified from the armor-piercing torpedoes of space cruisers.

In space combat, nuclear weapons have quite limited killing effect. Especially when deflector shields can effectively resist neutron radiation, all that’s left is the pitiful thermal radiation.

Thus, when designing weapons for the fleet, the Human Federation primarily used chemical explosives—carrying oxidizers, with high expansion coefficients and fast detonation speeds—for warheads of explosives and guided munitions.

Such weapons were mainly used against dense swarms of sub-entities and for orbital bombardment missions.

It seemed the Vellantians, inheriting related technology, had modified it with their own ideas, creating this odd mix of backwardness and advancement.

Call it embarrassing—yet the warhead’s charge had something to it. Call it advanced—yet the launching device could have been made by ancient people in the late industrial age or early atomic age.

Perhaps the only scenario where these Vellantians could conquer the world was if they dragged things out until two centuries later.

When the ideal cities crumble in decadence, when the Academy finishes preparations to leave this star system, when all the shelters left by the old era on this land vanish, and no more relics from the Age of Prosperity appear on this soil.

By then, with their vast industrial and war capabilities, the Vellantians might quickly unify the entire planet, rebuild a new Human Federation—militaristic, xenophobic, with Vellantians as the main ethnic group—and declare the end of the Wasteland Era…

In Conclusion Doctor’s simulations, such a possibility did exist, though its likelihood was unknown.

Having collected the explosion data, Yang Kai, through a series of communication relays set along the route, finally connected to the Academy’s headquarters in the Swamp of Hesitation, despite massive latency and packet loss.

“…As planned, the Alliance’s front-line forces have made contact with the Torch Church’s front-line forces. So far, the battle seems without suspense. Barring surprises, they can finish within two hours.”

After a brief wait, a calm and solemn voice came through the communication channel.

“Did the Torch Church reveal their trump card?”

He was the Academy’s Chief Technology Officer, the supreme leader of the Academy, and also the highest leader of the Science Committee, the direct superior of the four directors, reporting directly to Conclusion Doctor.

One could even say that when Conclusion Doctor was absent, he embodied the projection of Conclusion Doctor’s will.

“Some modified cyborg mutants, and some degraded variants—probably new toys from Torch… if you can call that a trump card.” Yang Kai reported respectfully, his tone humble like a student.

“Never underestimate our opponents and competitors,” the Chief Technology Officer said meaningfully, detecting a hint of disdain hidden behind the respect. He paused, then continued, “This is a valuable experimental opportunity. I need you to collect all possible data—from our people, and from other coalition participants. Whether it’s the Legion, the Corporation… or the Alliance.”

Long ago, even before the Legion’s expeditionary forces launched their eastern campaign, the Academy—with its tendrils spreading across the Central Plains—had already set its sights on Torch. And the deeper they delved into this organization, the more wary they became.

If the Enlightenment Society exploited the dark side of Blue Jackets’ humanity and their despair toward the wasteland, then Torch exploited the despair of all idealists toward humanity itself.

Their twistedness lay not only in technology but also in their vast influence, capable of assimilating even those short-sighted wastelanders who only cared about the present.

If the Vellantians won this race, it would merely be a shift from materialist egalitarian thought to militaristic xenophobia or militaristic authoritarianism.

But if these guys won, the entire planet might become something like a “Gaia” hive, and humanity would undergo what they called “ascension,” becoming a new species with unified consciousness and powerful bodies.

What sent chills down one’s spine was that something similar might have happened on the Gaia planet before.

After all, according to relevant research documents from the colony, before the formation of Gaia consciousness, that planet allegedly hosted a highly developed civilization predating FTL engines, similar to the mid-Prosperity Era of the Human Federation…

In other words, if the various factions on the wasteland continued their chaotic wars, these guys weren’t without a chance of winning!

After comprehensive risk-benefit assessment, the Academy made a series of moves to curb Torch’s expansion, including covertly supporting local survivor forces in the River Valley Province and guiding the Alliance’s southward advance.

According to the original plan, the local survivor forces in River Valley Province would launch an offensive against the Torch Church in Wasteland Year 214 or 215.

However, due to numerous variables—including the opening of Vault 404, the Pioneer incident, the resurgence of the Legion’s eastward expansionists, the Bone-Chewing Rebellion, and the Battle of Luoxia—the original plan deviated from its initial course. Not only was the Academy, which had intended only indirect regional intervention, directly dragged in, but the three major factions, once at odds, were forced to reunite.

Hard to say whether this was good or bad.

But for the Academy, it was at least an opportunity to observe.

To let them see how the other factions beyond the Swamp of Hesitation had developed over the past century and a half…

Listening to the Chief Technology Officer's instructions, Yang Kai's expression turned solemn, immediately casting aside his inner condescension as he spoke with profound respect.

"By your command."

...

Just as Imposing-on-Others ran to the official website to comfort—or rather, mock—Mr. Trash, Gray, who had just rushed to the foot of the mountain, bore a countenance of sheer bewilderment and terror upon his hideous face.

A surging, swarming mass of a thousand souls had poured from beneath the peaks of Mount Fu, yet by the time he reached the mountain’s base, the first few hundred brothers who had descended seemed to have vanished into thin air.

Blood had been baked into a blackened crust, and scattered everywhere were severed limbs resembling mere kindling.

Even the Wei River seemed to have narrowed by a fraction, yet deepened by far more than that...

A mouthful of scalding saliva rolled down his throat, swallowing the blood that ran to his lips along with his fear; the panic on Gray's face was swiftly supplanted by a burning fury, his bared gums as crimson as fresh blood.

Human playthings!

Every last one must die!

Watching the lines of silhouettes drawing nearer in the distance, he threw back his head and unleashed a roar to dispel his dread.

"Scatter! Charge!"

Though over half their number were dead or wounded, these fellows were mutants after all, their very flesh and blood a byproduct of the incomplete singularity-level technology known as the "Gestalt Organism"!

The Church of the Torch had further modified them, endowing them with a formidable strength layered upon their original organic frames!

Griping his shotgun, Gray led the charge from the vanguard, his iron soles stamping deep footprints into the earth.

Heartened by that roar, the stunned mutants, one by one, shook their heads to clear their senses, reaching out with blood-drenched arms to reclaim the rifles dropped upon the ground. They launched a fresh assault toward the distant train and the oncoming Legion of Death, crossing the stream that was nearly baked dry!

And then—

These beasts, upon stepping onto the northern bank, witnessed a scene they would never forget for the rest of their lives.

They saw Deathclaws bounding across the earth with swift and powerful strides.

The dust kicked up by those massive hind legs formed a rolling torrent against the horizon.

The mutants, who had only just managed to recover their courage, watched their contorted expressions twist back into abject terror.

Before they could even compose themselves, thick streaks of orange-yellow tracer fire descended upon them like a swarm of locusts.

Though the 20mm armor-piercing incendiary rounds were not quite as fierce as 19mm bolt rounds, they remained far more than mere flesh and blood could withstand.

Struck by the gunfire, the mutants howled and fell to the ground, only to be crushed into the muddy riverbank shortly after standing up.

Relying on combat instincts to dodge an oncoming shell, Gray strode forward like a shooting star, the shotgun in his hands continuously spitting thick tongues of fire as he bellowed in a mad frenzy.

"Die—!"

"All of you, die!"

The gunfire and roars were deafening, yet they seemed somewhat pale amidst that earth-shaking rumble.

The thundering advance of a hundred beasts grew closer and closer.

When his gaze finally locked with those amber pupils, he felt a chill pierce straight to the marrow of his spine.

Deathclaws!

These fellows were riding Deathclaws!

It had been impossible to tell while they were on the train; he had figured at most a few human playthings were standing atop it, never imagining that those humans had actually tamed such terrifying monstrosities!

There was no time left to dodge!

He jammed a matching caliber rifle grenade into the barrel and blasted it toward the nearest Deathclaw.

The grenade flew straight toward the Deathclaw’s head, only for a neighboring Deathclaw to snap its jaws onto the side of the warhead, wrenching its neck to fling it away.

The grenade exploded into a ball of fire in midair, the shrapnel flying from over a dozen meters away scraping against the exoskeleton like a mere scratch.

Beholding this unbelievable sight, Gray's eyes widened so far they nearly bulged from their sockets.

Clearly, he did not understand what kind of heaven-defying maneuver could be executed when a neural linkage device combined with an intelligence-type player.

Watching that mutant wielding the shotgun, Fringe-Water-Slid rode the Deathclaw beneath him, charging straight ahead without dodging or veering.

Gray felt a gust of violent wind strike him, and then his three-meter-tall frame was hit as if by a locomotive, sending him airborne and flying backward through the air.

"Ah—!"

Before his scream could escape his throat, the triangular bayonet fixed to the lance pierced through his chest like lightning, hoisting him brutally aloft right out of the air.

Gray felt as though he had become a mere rag, violently cast aside.

Even before he hit the ground, he watched helplessly as a bloody, gaping maw snapped down, severing his consciousness in an instant.

"Crunch—!"

That head was like a crushed tomato, red and white squeezing out together from the Deathclaw's mouth.

The mutants upon the battlefield were all utterly struck dumb by the sight.

They watched helplessly as their boss, like a grasshopper before a carriage wheel, was ground into a smear of shredded meat upon the earth.

Unable to hold back the terror in their hearts any longer, the mutants, whose morale had only just managed to recover, broke down completely, scattering to flee under the driving force of survival instinct.

Yet they clearly failed to realize how foolish it was to scatter and run when facing a cavalry charge. Furthermore, these cavalrymen were not riding horses, but the swiftest hunters of the wasteland!

Their fear of death only accelerated their doom!

Unleashing a thoroughly gratified howl, stimulated by blood and slaughter, the flesh-craving Deathclaws grew even more ferocious, straining forward with greater fervor.

Seeing the mutants flee, the players switched their weapons one after another, slinging the 20mm "lances" onto the backs of the Deathclaws and drawing "Whirlwind" grenade launchers and "Town Guard" shotguns.

At this very moment, the storm of blood and slaughter had only just begun!

And now, on the defensive positions before the military base not far away, the soldiers of the Southern Construction Corps were all gazing out at the battlefield where the roars of combat boiled.

Many among them had participated in the campaigns against the tides, and some members of the Iron Tower Organization had crossed blades face-to-face with mutants; since joining the Southern Construction Corps, they had faced the threat of mutants every waking hour.

Yet even so, they had never witnessed a spectacle so breathtakingly astounding!

Those fiercely malevolent green-skinned big guys were like chicks lined up for slaughter, chased hither and thither by the vault dwellers riding Deathclaws.

"By the Great Stag God..." Bitt swallowed hard, shock and astonishment trembling within his pupils.

Compared to these fellows, their past endeavors blocking the streets to fight the tides seemed like mere child's play...

And indeed, it was not far from the truth.

Word was that the battle in the northern suburbs was the truly tragic one, with most of the pressure borne by the brothers of Dawn City, and it was they who had ultimately launched the raid on the maternal nest in the city center.

Standing nearby, Li Jinrong, a former member of the Iron Tower Organization, bore an equally stunned expression upon his face.

Particularly when he watched those mutants turn and leap into the river to flee in terror, his expression looked as though he had laid eyes on something utterly miraculous.

Mutants could feel fear too!

They were not invincible; when faced with something more powerful, they would likewise flee in dread!

An invisible ember burned within his pupils.

There was still hope for his homeland!

...

The battle ended quickly.

Even faster than one observer had predicted—not two hours, not even half an hour passed before the Death Corps brothers drowned the mutants in the river, stabbing any head that surfaced or blowing it away with a single shot.

Only a handful of mutants escaped back to the south bank, all of them caught by the pursuing Death Claws and their throats torn out.

Crimson blood stained the river red, and dark green corpses were swept downstream.

Watching the Wei River, now much narrower, Edge Ripple, standing on the north bank, couldn't help but click his tongue.

"It seems the Legion's power is not to be underestimated..."

The force of that single shell was almost as devastating as a full salvo of rocket artillery!

If it had been an entire barrage, even a fortress like Bister Town would have little left standing...

Of course, logistics were another matter.

A five-ton shell could probably only be carried by a train or an anti-gravity airship, and the materials and man-hours needed to produce it could likely build a Type 2 tank!

The 902mm caliber was partly a symbol of strength, but it also had an element of showing off.

In any case, this thing was certainly far more expensive than a bayonet charge by clone infantry...

"Hmm..."

Looking at the corpses lying on the south bank of the Wei River, Construction Boy and Brick nodded solemnly.

Though the Alliance was no longer what it once was, he had to admit they still lagged behind those old-timers who had been leading for a century and a half.

It was already no small feat to catch up in certain areas—no need to belittle themselves, but also no room for blind arrogance. The Alliance's greatest trump card was never caliber, nor technology or economy, but the unity of its people.

Residents of Ideal City were willing to abandon comfortable lives to become ordinary teachers in Dawn City; researchers from the Academy were willing to give up future tickets to help them start from scratch in Dawn City. Even many of the Verant people they had captured had shed the arrogance in their blood and chosen a nobler ideal.

He was beginning to understand why the Administrator had allocated those two cannons to them.

And used them in the very first battle.

They needed to understand their enemy, learn from them, and ultimately surpass them—not become more arrogant than their foes.

On a nearby position, a line of men in military uniforms approached.

The leader, with reverence in his eyes, walked up and saluted.

"I am Li Jinrong."

He did not dismount from the Death Claw, for the battle was not yet over.

Edge Ripple smiled at him, returned the salute with a fist to his chest.

"Commander of the Death Corps, Edge."

Li Jinrong was stunned, his reverence deepening, and he spoke with excitement.

"I've heard of your exploits—dozens of battles large and small, always leading from the front, and always returning safely!"

Hearing this flattery, Edge Ripple felt a bit embarrassed.

In truth, he hadn't always returned safely.

Among all the players, he had died quite often, to the point where his level was barely T1.

But that wasn't the point—the "Player's Handbook" was!

With a chuckle, Edge Ripple said with a smile.

"Thanks, thanks—it's all thanks to technology. Technology... just think of it as us having cheats."

Technology?

Cheats?

Li Jinrong blinked, not understanding, but didn't dwell on it. He smiled and said,

"We've prepared quarters for you. Please follow us to the camp to rest!"

The entire Weifu military base was built to accommodate 100,000 troops—not just Alliance forces, but all allied armies could station here.

After taking Ten Peaks Mountain, this became the Alliance Army's land logistics hub.

Hearing that reinforcements were coming, they had already prepared bedding and food, waiting for the brothers from Dawn City.

Edge Ripple laughed heartily but declined the offer.

"No need—our camp is on that mountain ahead! Once you see our flag flying on the peak, send everything up!"

"The mountain?" Li Jinrong was taken aback, looking hesitantly at the eager crowd, and opened his mouth in surprise. "Are you going to..."

Edge Ripple grinned, his eyes narrowing as he gazed at the distant peak.

"The Administrator said,"

"Let's show the Alliance's spirit—don't let our distant friends look down on us!"

With that, he turned to his brothers on the north bank and swung his "cavalry lance" forward.

"Brothers! Follow me up the mountain! Plant our flag on their summit!"

The men, having rested briefly, erupted in a thunderous battle cry.

"Ooh-rah!"

Not long after they crossed the river with fierce momentum, Debt Big Eyes finally arrived, panting heavily.

"MMP! I'm exhausted!"

Behind him followed over a hundred fat, sturdy men, staggering as they walked.

After half a year of gorging, these guys no longer looked frail—each one was as plump as a "meat mountain."

Resting his hands on his knees, Debt Big Eyes looked around but saw no trace of his teammates—only a few men in military uniforms standing there in bewilderment.

Without much thought, he asked,

"Where are they? The dog riders!"

Li Jinrong pointed vaguely toward the mountain, staring blankly at the group of entities.

Debt Big Eyes looked at the distant peak, then at the river before him, his eyes full of helplessness.

"Why didn't you build a bridge?"

Li Jinrong gave a bitter laugh.

"The mountain is full of mutants... Building a bridge in a hurry would only cause trouble. But we have the materials; it'll be quick to set up."

"Forget it... I'll build one later. You go get the supplies."

Li Jinrong nodded and quickly led his men toward the camp.

Figuring he couldn't catch up anyway and might as well help with the loot, Debt Big Eyes gave up the chase and shouted back,

"Boys, chow time—damn, I haven't even given the order, and you're already eating?"

The northernmost peak of Ten Peaks Mountain is called Fu Mountain, and Weifu City takes its name from Fu Mountain and the Wei Water.

Now the Weifu Wasteland at the mountain's foot inherits the name of the old-era Weifu City, including the vanished Fu Village.

As for the mutants on this Mount Fu, most were tribesmen of the Stonehorn Clan.

The eighty-li road of white bones owed them a share of "credit"; behind every bone buried on the mountain lay a trail of blood and tears that shocked the soul.

The mutants had built square towers from human skulls, and watchtowers and stockades from thigh bones, to flaunt their savagery and valor.

But now, this pack of demons had finally bitten into a bone too hard to chew.

Humans riding death claws had charged up, and their methods of combat were extremely brutal; in the span of a few breaths, they had shattered the hastily organized defense line into a routed mess.

The truly brave warriors had died at the foot of the mountain with their leader named Grey; those still on the mountain were either old geezers, little ones barely knee-high, or severely wounded from previous battles, and goblins tied at the door as guards.

For these savages, the players of the Death Corps showed no mercy; as soon as they saw one, they stabbed it with a knife or shot it down, granting them an equal death!

The battle raged on, darkening heaven and earth, from the cliffs into the caves, from the caves into the tunnels, and finally out the other side of the mountain, as if even the distant dusk was stained with a murky scarlet.

In two hours, the Stonehorn Clan was slaughtered to the last; corpses piled into small hills on the open ground, countless in number.

A rough count, not counting the goblins, showed there were already one to two thousand corpses on the mountain alone!

And if goblins were included, there would probably be five to six thousand!

One could see how deep this blood debt was!

After tallying the casualties and loot, Edge Skimmer tied his mount to a large rock, then led a few players on foot into the Stonehorn Clan's palace.

If it could be called a palace, it was actually just the central nest.

Generally, mutants liked to keep prisoners in the center of the camp, so they could amuse themselves, whether by eating them or eating them.

As soon as they crossed the stone gate of the nest, everyone smelled a pungent, stench wafting from the cave.

"...The smell of hydrogen sulfide, I'd guess rotten eggs," Midnight Umbrella Without Knife pinched his nose and quipped.

Laplace, walking beside him, carefully searched the surroundings with a flashlight and said in a low voice.

"Stop guessing... watch the corners, especially your feet, don't get caught by traps."

"Madam You Wouldn't Want That" added with a smirk: "Exactly! You wouldn't want to be fed rotten eggs by mutants, would you?"

"Get lost," Midnight made a vomiting face, but his expression turned serious.

Fortunately, these mutants seemed never to have considered that prisoners might escape; the players encountered no traps along the way and easily reached the deepest part of the darkness.

It was a very spacious area, with about a dozen iron cages that could each hold an elephant lined up on both sides.

The survivors were crammed into those filthy cages, without even room to stretch their legs, showing no reaction to the arrival of their comrades, just staring blankly, maintaining their previous postures.

In comparison, even the raiders' dungeons seemed more merciful; at least those disgusting creatures would dump out some feces, rather than letting germs breed here.

When the players stepped into this space, a few small goblins were still chattering, crudely venting their primal instincts on a dirty body.

Judging by the width of the cave entrance, this should be the mutants' hatchery, not the kind of cave with a low, small opening.

These short creatures had probably sneaked in while the big ones were out raiding.

Unable to bear the cruel scene even for a second, Edge Skimmer, wearing his exoskeleton, strode over, reached out and snapped the necks of those goblins, then tossed them, still wailing their last breaths, into a corner.

The disheveled woman lay on the stone table, her belly swollen like a balloon, staring at him with vacant eyes. Her expression was as gray as if she were already dead; the only evidence of life was her faint breathing.

Most survivors met such a miserable fate after being caught by mutants, whether in the River Valley Province or the Jinchuan Province.

The only difference was that Torch's biotechnology prolonged this despair.

"Torch used drugs on these survivors... probably Naguo, otherwise these people might have died long ago," Construction Boy and Brick said in a low voice, then stopped.

Edge Skimmer was silent for a while, then finally sighed.

"...Send them to Singularity City."

In the end, he couldn't bring himself to end these poor souls' journey like Captain Lu, even though he could feel that person begging him to do it.

Whatever these poor people here chose later, at least that choice should be made by themselves...

"Mm."

Construction Boy and Brick nodded, silently stepped forward, tore off the shroud he was wearing, covered the woman with it, and carried her out of the cave.

After taking all the rescued survivors away, the players of the Death Corps set a fire on the mountain and completely sealed the entrances to those filthy caves.

Mutants were large in build and could hardly hide in caves too small for humans, but the small goblins could easily hide in crevices humans couldn't enter.

This fire should kill some, but definitely not all.

Completely eradicating the mutants from this mountain area was no easy task; it was far from something a few thousand or hundred incendiary bombs or thermobaric bombs could accomplish.

But those stationed here would keep killing, taking turns logging in and changing shifts, killing on; if they died, they'd take the train from Dawn City and come back again—until this twisted evil was slaughtered to the last.

Though the evil on the wasteland was far more than what met the eye, fortunately they had inexhaustible blood and strength! They could keep killing!

Dusk was drawing to a close.

The banner of the Alliance and the flag of the Death Corps fluttered on the highest peak of Mount Fu.

Debt Big Eye, with his hundred or so sub-entity underlings, finally managed to build that floating bridge with the guidance and help of the Construction Corps engineers.

Seeing that the big fat boys he had fed had finally been of help, Debt Big Eye's face finally showed a satisfied smile.

Building fortifications also earned shares; as long as you participated, you weren't freeloading.

Though soon he thought of the money he had spent on feed, which could have helped many needy young ladies, and his face winced in pain again...

Cart after cart of supplies were delivered to the mountain edge, carried up by logistics soldiers in exoskeletons.

The first peak of Ten Peaks Mountain had been taken by the Alliance, and the first step on this eighty-li road of white bones had finally been taken.

The Alliance's front line still had forty li of mountain road to the highest Blood Mountain peak, and seventy-seven li to the northern gateway of Haiya Province—Lai Mountain.

This was the first direct confrontation between the Alliance and the Torch Church!

A great victory in this battle!