Chapter 739: The True Hero!

Chapter 739: The True Heroes!

As the mutants who had chased them out of the cave had anticipated, these figures clad in exoskeletons were far more dangerous than anyone they had encountered before—combined.

It wasn't just the heavy exoskeleton constantly lobbing mortar shells, nor the speed and strength they displayed on the battlefield.

It was the aura erupting from these beings, something they had never faced.

These men seemed as though they had died countless times already.

They appeared long accustomed to death itself!

"Roar—!"

As a warrior in an exoskeleton charged before him, the hulking green-skinned brute hidden behind a rock let out a bellow. His steel axe, carrying the force of a thunderbolt, swung toward the man's face, only to be firmly caught by a square shield.

"Clang—"

A heavy, dull sound melted into the night.

A blow capable of cleaving a steer in two left only a shallow scratch on the ceramic-steel shield!

It seemed merely a layer of paint had chipped off!

His tiger's mouth numbed by the shock, the green brute stumbled backward. Before he could steady himself, a fist-sized muzzle was aimed straight at his head.

The player sneered and pulled the trigger.

"Repent in hell!"

A long, thick tongue of flame burst from the shotgun's chamber along with the sneer, and the burning phosphorus was the bullet itself!

Triethylaluminum mixed with white phosphorus could burn fully in tight spaces with limited oxygen, generating nearly a thousand degrees of heat, maximizing damage to organic matter!

Though the flame was short-lived, its power was astonishing. Unlike white phosphorus grenades that scattered in all directions, this directed jet of fire struck precisely where aimed.

Colliding head-on with the dazzling flame, the mutant let out a agonized howl, tumbled to the ground, and soon curled up motionless, large swaths of its flesh charred to cinders.

The spent shell casing, still smoldering with faint wisps of flame, clattered and rolled down the hillside.

The player expertly struck the shotgun against his shield, completing a clean reload, then hoisted the ceramic-steel shield and advanced with steady, powerful steps.

Heavy infantry, each equipped with riot shields and "Type Six" exoskeletons, spearheaded the assault, shielding two light infantrymen in "Type Five" exoskeletons behind them. They advanced in three-man teams toward the mountainside.

Watching the bursts of sparks at the foot of the distant mountain, the recently retreated Vlandian soldiers stood stunned, their faces etched with astonishment.

"Is that... white phosphorus?"

"...Chamber-fired?"

A decurion with a burned arm couldn't help but whisper in surprise.

"Are those madmen out of their minds?!"

White phosphorus wasn't uncommon in the Legion's logistics list—from the warheads of 400mm rocket-assisted projectiles to throwables issued to frontline infantry—it was a cost-effective conventional weapon.

But stuffing it into a bullet and spraying it out was something none had imagined.

Ignoring the high temperatures the barrel had to endure, weren't these men afraid of setting themselves ablaze?

Even with secondary ignition, it was dangerously risky!

The Legion wasn't the only one stunned.

Even in the 100th Mountain Division's command post, where they were peeping through drones, murmurs of amazement filled the air.

"Their small arms have something to them..."

"Worth studying."

"Mostly flashy and impractical, I'd say."

"Not necessarily flashy, but too specialized, limiting its application scenarios."

"Yeah... true."

Whether for the Legion or the Corporation, "secondary-ignition bullets" were a novelty, and embedding solid incendiary agents into warheads seemed even more bizarre.

Though the officers were momentarily impressed, after some thought, they gradually abandoned the idea of equipping their own troops with similar gear.

In truth, with the technological accumulation of the Prosperous Era, producing such items wasn't difficult. But investing too many resources into light infantry equipment yielded extremely low returns.

Both the Legion and the Corporation allocated limited R&D budgets for individual gear. The former favored larger calibers and greater numbers for victory, while the latter leaned toward "unmanned systems" and "military outsourcing" to cut costs.

In tactical style, the one most similar to the Alliance was actually the Academy, though not known for its military might.

Although the Academy equipped its "Alpha" Mobile Task Force with high-tech gear not to reduce casualties but to "overtake on curves" in areas where it was weak, those personnel were among the few survivor factions willing to invest heavily in individual equipment.

For the Alliance, lacking the Academy's vast technological reserves, they could only develop some "outlandish yet not-so-outlandish" ideas under limited conditions.

"Secondary-ignition bullets" were a concept born from this design philosophy.

The bolter, designed specifically to combat mutants, fell under this concept, as did this white phosphorus round that ignited upon leaving the barrel.

Compared to shaped-charge bolter rounds, this white phosphorus ammunition had no safety distance restrictions, was cheaper, and its close-range lethality was even more astonishing!

The only drawback was range.

But in mountainous or tunnel combat, this wasn't an issue.

Engagement distances were either tens of meters or over a kilometer.

The former risked triggering the bolter's safety distance, preventing proper detonation, while the latter far exceeded the range limits of most small arms, leaving it to artillery.

Thus, at the request of many players, Boulder Military Industries developed a 19mm special shotgun based on the bolter—the "Fire Dragon."

Though its transport and maintenance would make logistics personnel curse, even requiring separate transport from other ammunition, that was another matter.

In any case, as Legion and Corporation commanders marveled, the Storm Corps' vanguard had already dealt a harsh blow to the mutant forces that had chased them down the mountain, leaving those green brutes reeling.

Realizing that seizing Black Cloud Mountain was no longer possible, the mutants who had emerged from the cave began retreating, intending to pull their defenses back into the caves and tunnels, repeating the bloody grind they had already waged against the Vlandians.

Just then, a shadow three to four meters tall swept like a hurricane behind the mutants.

A flash of claws stirred a howling gale in the night, cleaving two green brutes in half, their entrails spilling across the ground.

Meeting its amber pupils and the blood-drenched maw exhaling white mist, the goblins' faces twisted in panic and fear. They shrieked, dropped their weapons, and fled in all directions, tripping many of the green brutes retreating up the mountain.

A mutant centurion, eyes wide as copper bells, stared at the beast brandishing its claws.

"A deathclaw!"

And it was wearing an exoskeleton!

Panic seized not only the goblins but also the green brutes, their eyes flickering with fleeting terror.

They had heard that the Stone Horn tribe on Mount Fu had been annihilated by a group riding deathclaws.

Had those ones arrived?

As Trash-kun swung his claws, valiantly slaying enemies, I Want to Be Quiet watched from afar with envy.

"...Damn, Trash-kun is still awesome!"

Standing beside him, Fat Rat, though somewhat reluctant, nodded grudgingly in acknowledgment.

"Indeed. If only he could last a bit longer."

I Want to Be Quiet: "Uh... that is a problem."

The alien variant sequence was formidably strong, yet utterly useless, particularly in the later stages when ordinary players boasted superior equipment while the alien variants were reduced to scavenging gear from battle pets.

Save for Mosquito and Ah Wei, virtually no production-class players cared to spend the effort designing a bespoke line of equipment for a handful of alien variants, a venture destined for abysmal sales.

Once the progression of their equipment fell behind, the disadvantage became glaringly obvious.

While other players executed coordinated strategies, the alien variants clung stubbornly to outdated tactics.

After harvesting more than twenty mutant heads in succession, Junkie, deep behind enemy lines, finally found his two claws no match for hundreds of hands; the ballistic plates on his exoskeleton were shattered by assault rifle fire, and a portable rocket propelled grenade struck his shoulder, sending him plunging down the cliffside with an unyielding roar.

Though Junkie failed to survive long enough to rendezvous with Fountain, his sudden apparition thoroughly startled the mutants, effectively dragging down their retreat.

Having sustained at least three to four hundred more casualties than anticipated, the mutants pursuing down the mountain finally retreated into the caves midway up the slope.

Affording these beasts no quarter to breathe, the vanguard of the Storm Legion arrived hot on their heels, seizing control of several cave entrances situated on the mountainside.

The main force waiting below advanced up the slope, coordinating with the vanguard that had breached the caverns to engage the entrenched mutants in a bloody, savage slaughter.

The players maintained the exact same tactical approach they had used while ascending the mountain.

A heavy infantryman bearing a massive shield spearheaded the advance, followed closely by two light infantrymen carrying light and heavy armaments.

Streams of tracer fire wove an impermeable web through the narrow tunnels, only to be entirely deflected by the shield forged of ceramite.

Seeing that rifle rounds could not pierce the shield, a mutant lurking behind cover bellowed, retrieved a grenade launcher, and pulled the trigger toward the tunnel entrance.

Watching the grenade streak forward trailing a wisp of white smoke, the strength-attribute player leading the charge reacted with swift precision, raising his shoulder to thrust the shield forward, miraculously swatting the delayed-detonation grenade backward to detonate in a burst of fire right in the center of the tunnel.

Shrapnel pelted the shield like raindrops, producing a rapid cadence of metallic clangs.

Capitalizing on the suppression from the blast, before the entrenched mutant could chamber another round, an agility-attribute player shoulder-hoisting an RPG rocket launcher quickly knelt beside the heavy infantryman and deftly flipped off the safety.

The convex warhead and cylindrical body readily betrayed its identity; it was a thermobaric warhead modeled after the RShG-2 design, courtesy of Goblin Technology.

"RPG!"

An ecstatic roar echoed, and the player pulled the trigger without a moment's hesitation.

A thick, long trail of white smoke surged into the depths of the tunnel, followed by a blinding flash of fire at its terminus, the overpressure from the instantaneous detonation causing the entire cavernous space to shudder.

Though devoid of overly sophisticated technology, the lethality of the weapon remained unquestionable.

The nearly four-kilogram warhead was packed with high-performance fuel, rendering it equal to, if not greater than, its real-world counterparts of identical payload.

The cascading wave of scorching heat nearly upended the strength-attribute brute holding the shield.

The mutants who took the full brunt of the blast fared far worse, suffering instantaneous and countless casualties, leaving the cavern filled with a tangled heap of groaning forms.

Nevertheless, these creatures truly proved themselves products of Singularity Technology; even after enduring a thermobaric blast, a scattered few managed to survive.

There was even a resilient flesh-mutant that came stumbling over the barricade, propelled entirely by muscle memory.

Steadying his stance, the strength-attribute player raised his shotgun and discharged two consecutive rounds of white phosphorus directly into the creature's chest.

The thick torrent of flame, akin to a dragon's breath, pinned the creature to the ground without a sound.

"Charge through!"

Bellowing at the top of his lungs, Kakarot, shotgun in hand, stepped over the charred, contorting corpse to become the first to enter the cavern recently baptized by the thermobaric blast.

A few green-skinned behemoths who were not yet entirely dead attempted to rise and resist, only to be systematically executed by the players pouring into the cave, pinned and finished upon the floor.

The tunnel reeked of charred flesh, yet it stirred not the slightest appetite.

Surveying the shattered, distorted corpses littering the floor, I Am The Blackest, following closely behind Kakarot, clicked his tongue in disbelief and muttered.

"These Wilanites are truly ruthless..."

In this single stretch of tunnel less than ten meters long lay nearly half a company's worth of bodies.

Kakarot bared his teeth in a grimace, reloading his spent shotgun.

"It is not as if you have never fought them before."

Recalling past events, I Am The Blackest nodded with a faint trace of emotion.

"True..."

Had it not been for the ability to resurrect, securing a victory against that lot would indeed have been somewhat difficult.

Then again, if the game lacked a resurrection mechanic and deleted your account upon a single death, who would even play this garbage!

Furthermore, regarding the sheer volume of cheats, who could possibly compete with those ancient monsters who inherited the legacy of the Military Construction Committee?

Whether it was the Legion, the Enterprise, or the Academy, the trump cards held in their hands were thoroughly absurd.

By comparison, the advantage brought by the card held by Vault 404 was not nearly as pronounced.

The reason they managed to achieve such an explosive outcome...

Was naturally because the Administrator played his cards flawlessly!

At the exact moment Kakarot and his brethren secured a section of the defensive line, the other units plunging deep into the labyrinth likewise made remarkable progress.

In a mere half hour, the Storm Legion pushed the front line back to the positions previously held by the Legion, advancing an astonishing several hundred meters with irresistible momentum.

During this push, they dismantled four ammunition depots stockpiled with vast quantities of weapons and equipment, and liberated a breeding chamber holding over five hundred survivors.

Though the Storm Legion sustained casualties amounting to two full companies, the losses suffered by the mutants were far more grievous, exceeding theirs by at least fivefold.

Detailing half a company to transfer the survivors, Kakarot led his remaining subordinates forward to press the assault against the mutant positions.

Faced with the relentless, unceasing onslaught of the coalition forces, the mutants within the caverns finally manifested a tinge of exhaustion.

After all, regardless of how potent the regenerative capabilities of these green-skinned brutes might be, they were not without limits.

They required respite when wounded, needing to gorge and sleep to return to peak condition.

Yet these human things had the audacity to battle them through the entire night without a single pause.

As the sky outside verged on dawn, the firefight inside the caverns raged on, and a creeping dread began to take hold of both the green-skinned behemoths and the goblins alike.

They had never encountered humans of this nature—

No!

These creatures were not human at all!

They resembled something else entirely, merely draped in human skin!

Thus, the spark that had breached the caverns spread along the tunnels within the mountain, extending from the frontline ammunition depots all the way to the foundry situated in the deepest recesses of the massif.

This was the place where the Rock-Axe Tribe repaired and processed their gear, housing several processing forges and large workbenches designed for them by the Church of the Torch, alongside an explosives workshop filled with chemical synthesis apparatus, interconnected with the various artificial tunnels to form the literal heart of the labyrinth.

Witnessing the situation deteriorate so drastically, even Olong, who had previously sat composed within his palace, could not contain his rising panic and dragged his ponderous frame to the front lines.

He had assumed the humans would flee in terror upon beholding him, just as the forces from yesterday and the day before had done.

What he could never have anticipated was that the moment he appeared roaring within the foundry, the morale of the human things, who had moments before carried a trace of fatigue, swelled rather than diminished.

Those people hollered at him in ecstatic delight, as though they had laid eyes upon some priceless treasure.

"Holy shit! The labyrinth BOSS!"

"Brothers! The BOSS has spawned!"

"Grab your gear and kill the bastard!"

"Oooooh!"

Watching those human things charging forward with roars, a rare flicker of fear finally appeared on that toad-like face.

"What the hell is wrong with these people?! Beast King! Where the fuck... are you! Tell me what to do now!"

This was the first time he had addressed that person as "Beast King," instead of "that bastard."

Yet the one who always answered his call did not show up this time.

As if he had never been there.

Seeing no response no matter how he called, a trace of despair first crept onto Oulon's face, then was quickly consumed by rage.

He had been abandoned!

None of those human things were trustworthy! Not even those who wore human skin but were something else entirely!

Gazing at the human soldiers opening fire on him, Oulon let out a roar from his gaping maw, charging forward like a walking tank, his blood-soaked feet shaking the ground with every stride.

7mm bullets only left tiny blood holes on his body, while wounds torn open by rocket launchers writhed with twisted clumps of centipede-like flesh worms.

Even a headshot wouldn't kill him; his vitality surpassed all known surface lifeforms, rivaling even the evolved forms of slime molds!

Screaming in agony from the white phosphorus flames, Oulon dragged his blood-drenched colossal frame before the players, swatting away a strength-type brute in heavy exoskeleton with a palm the size of a fan, then spewed a torrent of corrosive acid, sending the crowd scattering backward in alarm.

"Die!"

"All of you die for Oulon—!"

Urged on by that crude roar, the mutants in the forge chamber erupted with a dying burst of fighting spirit. Both the green-skinned brutes and the goblins charged howling toward the players who had stormed into the cave.

Watching the rampaging beast, a hint of gravity crept onto Kakarot's brow.

But more than that, it was excitement!

Ever since the central hive in Clearspring City was taken by the brothers of the Burning Legion, he hadn't had this much fun in a long time!

"Get the tubes ready! Forget armor-piercing and thermobaric rounds, load them all with incendiary warheads!"

"I want to see if it can repair itself faster than we can burn it!"

"Blow the fuck out of it!"

...

The fierce battle inside Broken Blade Mountain raged, but outside the mountain, all was silent, with only faint explosions echoing from the cave mouth.

Black Cloud Mountain.

General Modlin stared unblinkingly at the cave entrance halfway up the distant slope, his brow furrowed, lost in thought.

His adjutant stood beside him, likewise silent, gazing in that direction.

Though those men were opponents, he couldn't help but offer a silent prayer for them in his heart.

It was a tribute born of a soldier's respect.

Those men were true heroes!

They could have ignored their former enemies, used the Legion's failure to notify them of tonight's offensive as an excuse to stand idly by with the Corporation, watching them shoot themselves in the foot, then mock them at the subsequent "review meeting," even pressure Triumph City through the Conclave to weaken General Lium's command authority...

But they did not.

For the sake of the entire war, for the unity of the Conclave, for the overall interests of all humanity, those noble souls charged forward without hesitation, using their flesh and blood to plug the hole General Lium had torn open out of personal greed...

Thinking of this, a wave of heat surged across the adjutant's back, and a look of shame crept onto his face.

Though not all Valyrians shared his thoughts, in those few short hours, quite a few officers and soldiers of the 31st Myriad had changed their views on the Alliance.

Especially those who survived the front lines.

Their hearts held not only gratitude but more of awe and respect...

On the other side, the six Dragonfly ornithopters had expended their ammunition. Seeing no danger to the friendly positions on Black Cloud Mountain, they began withdrawing toward the rear military base.

Corporation Forward Command Post.

Lin Shangwen had just finished a call with Chu Guang, briefly reporting the frontline situation, and continued.

"...Enemy units outside the mountain have been largely cleared. Fighting inside the mountain continues. Regrettably, we really can't be of much help."

"It's fine. Leave it to us."

Chu Guang nodded, but his eyes were fixed on another screen displaying the latest battle reports from the official forum of *Wasteland OL*.

As he had expected, those mutants were not easy to handle—otherwise, the Corporation and the Legion wouldn't have taken such a beating, leaving him to pick up the pieces.

This also indirectly confirmed Heya's hypothesis.

That is, the Torch Church had used technical data on "Gestalt Lifeforms" gathered from the wasteland to improve the deformed product known as "mutants."

The greenskins on Broken Blade Mountain were no longer the same as those naturally evolved in the wasteland.

They possessed far greater vitality, and a few aberrant individuals among them were so strong as to be almost unbelievable, even capable of regrowing their heads after decapitation.

Especially that super mutant who kept shouting "Oulon."

That guy's physical resilience was absurd—he could withstand ten thermobaric rounds and still fight as if nothing had happened, swinging his arms in battle.

And because of this, he inflicted considerable casualties on the Storm Legion.

But judging by the players sent to respawn, they were showering this overpowered boss with "rave reviews," showing no signs of being discouraged.

Clearly, they hadn't encountered an opponent they could fight so exhilaratingly in a long time...

Seeing that Chu Guang had no further demands, Lin Shangwen breathed a sigh of relief, but soon remembered something else. After hesitating for a moment, he finally spoke up, somewhat embarrassed.

"By the way."

"What is it?"

"After all, we did put in a lot of effort on this mountain..."

Seeing Lin Shangwen's awkward expression, Chu Guang immediately understood what he wanted to say and smiled faintly.

"No problem. This mountain counts as yours... Of course, as stated in our previous contract, you'll have to cover the costs of this campaign."

Hearing this, Lin Shangwen's face finally broke into a relieved smile, and he continued sincerely.

"Don't worry about that. We certainly won't let our friends suffer!"

After a pause, he seemed to feel a bit embarrassed and cleared his throat before adding.

"And... you don't have to credit it all to us. Let's just say it's a joint effort."

Chu Guang waved his hand with a smile.

"These are small matters. The big picture is what matters."

Dawn was already rising from the horizon.

Though the ground was still shrouded in the long night, Chu Guang, standing in the bridge of the *Steel Heart*, could already see the end of that night approaching.

On the highest rock of distant Broken Blade Mountain, a player in exoskeleton climbed up and planted the flags of the Storm Legion and the Alliance firmly on top.

Chu Guang saw that player, and the player seemed to see his airship as well, waving excitedly at him, then suddenly remembering something, placed his fist over his chest.

Though he knew the player couldn't see him, Chu Guang still smiled and waved back at the window.

"...I didn't expect the Storm Legion to take it before dawn." Vannus glanced at his wristwatch, a look of surprise on his face.

From all indications, there were at least a division of mutants hidden on that mountain, while the Storm Corps had only a regiment deployed to the front line.

Even if the Corporation and the Legion had already worn down a significant number of the mutants' effective strength, cracking this tough nut would still be no easy task.

Withdrawing his right hand, Chu Guang squinted and smiled.

"I'm not surprised at all."

After all, he had been watching the whole thing on the official forum, which was hardly different from witnessing the battle firsthand on the front line...

Meanwhile, on the bridge of the airship Loyalty.

Lioum, seated in his chair, also stared at the two banners rising over Broken Blade Mountain, but there was no joy in his heart—only a complex expression on his face.

The cooked duck had flown away; that was roughly how he felt.

Just then, his adjutant approached, hesitation written on his face, and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"General... the Marshal of the Allied Forces invites you to a meeting at the military base's command post. He says it's to address the lack of coordination between the armies and the serious problem of departmentalism."

The muscles around Lioum's mouth twitched violently. His old face flushed red, then pale, then red again, his eyes fixed straight ahead on the floor-to-ceiling window, as if searching for a crack in the bulletproof glass to crawl through.

What was coming had finally arrived.

The thought of how those Corporation bastards would mock him soon made him want to jump off the airship.

Let alone the Corporation people.

To be brought down by a bunch of mutants...

This was the greatest disgrace of his life!

Seeing his superior's shifting expression, the adjutant hesitated briefly and whispered again.

"...Shall I go in your stead?"

"No need."

After all, he was a man who dared to take responsibility. Lioum cut him off with a dark face, grinding his teeth.

"...I'll go myself!"