Chapter 756.2: The Frontline

Oliver's surprise was merely a brief interlude because it didn't take long for him to realize it was insignificant compared to what came next.

Just as his men were discussing opening a betting pool on how many of the New Alliance's rookie soldiers would make it back alive, yet another massive group marched along the rugged mountain path and strode boldly into the plague and curse-ridden wilderness.

The newcomers were noisy, speaking a language the Wislanders couldn't understand, yet their hearty laughter made it seem less as though they were marching into a battlefield that devoured lives and more as though they were heading to a banquet.

The rise and fall of their voices carried nothing but contempt for death. They were prepared to lay down their lives for the ideal of saving all humanity, yet seemed to care nothing for their own safety.

At first, the Wislander soldiers watched them with mocking eyes. But before long, they gradually realized that those mocking expressions only made themselves look like clowns.

One by one, their smiles faded.

Those people were true warriors!

When faced with a crisis threatening all of humanity, they didn't merely shout about unity while secretly looking out for themselves. Instead, they didn’t hesitate and stepped to the very front!

Even though most Wislander soldiers had no interest whatsoever in the ideals proclaimed by the New Alliance, and even scorned the dreamlike notion of equality, they simply couldn't bring themselves to dislike these genuine heroes. They respected true strength.

And out of that respect, they quietly canceled the betting pool on how many of them would return alive...

It wasn't only the Wislander soldiers on the frontlines who were astonished. Even Liam aboard the Loyal Subject airship was deeply shaken. After listening to the latest report from the front, he remained silent for quite a while before finally turning to his adjutant. "... Just how large is the New Alliance's population?"

The adjutant froze for a moment before replying hesitantly, "A million? Maybe a million and a half?"

Ever since the Mutant Slime Mold Research Committee had been convened, survivors had been streaming into the New Alliance without end. He had even heard that the administrator of one of the shelters had moved to settle around Dawn City.

Since the New Alliance imposed remarkably lenient identity checks on incoming survivors, its population changed almost daily.

Exactly how many people lived there... Forget an outsider like him. Even Chu Guang himself probably didn't know the precise number.

Liam wore a peculiar expression as he shifted his gaze from his adjutant toward the gray-green mist blanketing the battlefield outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.

According to reports from the position on Lai Peak, the New Alliance had already deployed nearly the equivalent of an entire division to the front!

Part of them were regular troops, but an even larger portion looked more like wasteland drifters who had brought their own weapons and rations. The only piece of equipment they received from the logistics base was a gas mask.

As for rifles, ammunition, and everything else, they had brought those themselves.

"... So this is the New Alliance's mobilization capability." A trace of amazement appeared in Liam's eyes.

Even in Triumphant City, under the rule of the great Marshal himself, such a thing would have been unimaginable...

While General Liam was still reeling from the revelation, the fighting around Lai Peak had already reached a fever pitch.

...

Fungal mutants controlled by Na Fruit crawled endlessly out of the earth, attempting to exterminate the heretics who had invaded the Kingdom of Heaven.

Unfortunately for them, those heretics proved far stronger than the Apostles had ever imagined.

They were clearly living humans, yet they fought like the walking dead, never knowing exhaustion.

Looking at the rifle barrel that had almost been heated red-hot, Spring Born, firing from behind a crumbling earthen wall, couldn't help shouting over his shoulder. "Boss! Call in an airstrike already!"

Not far away, Summer Born also yelled, "We're not gonna hold much longer!"

"Just wait a little longer!" Better Relax glanced hurriedly at the numbers on his VM. Although he was under immense pressure himself, he still gritted his teeth and shouted, "Just another 200 points! Once we hit 1,000, I can call in an airdrop!"

He had heard that the C2 supply crate contained a Ripper Heavy Machine Gun, along with 3,000 rounds of ammunition! With the weapons and ammunition they currently had, there was no way they could hold out for long.

Even calling in one or two airstrikes would only help clear away fodder. Only after obtaining the heavy weapons from the supply drop would they have any hope of lasting longer.

As for the 100-kilogram bomb that cost 500 points... That was reserved for evolved types.

Better Relax already had a detailed plan for squeezing the maximum possible value out of every single point.

Just as he was thinking that, a savage roar suddenly erupted from beyond the dense fog.

"ROAAAR!" Before he could ask what had happened, he heard the screams of death of Spring Born and Summer Born.

Soon, a gigantic beast lying low to the ground came into view. It resembled a crocodile, yet possessed the thick body and legs of an elephant. Its three to four meter long jaws were still chewing contentedly. The bloody scraps of flesh and torn clothing dangling from its fangs were, quite conveniently enough to clothe two people.

Dark green fungal threads stitched together its scarred, crater-like body. As it stared at its prey, an eerie green light flickered in its pupils. Meeting those ghastly green eyes, Better Relax instinctively held his breath as his hands and feet turned ice cold.

The next second, he reflexively glanced at the numbers on his VM.

975, 25 points short of the heavy machine gun!

There was no time to hesitate. While screaming internally, he spent 500 points to call in an airstrike and immediately saw the estimated arrival time.

Three minutes.

He nearly coughed up blood. "What kind of bullshit is this?!"

The crocodile-like monster, however, had no intention of waiting. It lunged straight toward his defensive position with its enormous jaws wide open.

The 7mm rifle rounds hitting its body were little more than a joke. The RPGs couldn't be fired effectively either because of the minimum safe arming distance.

Better Relax frantically shouted for the rookies to back away while trying to draw the monster's attention and continuously updating the bombing coordinates for the airstrike that wouldn't arrive for another three minutes.

Unfortunately, since many members of the Abstract Corps were experiencing real combat for the very first time, the entire defensive line descended into complete chaos. The Purification Station's remaining 90-odd defenders were torn straight through by the monster.

The scattered rookies carrying RPG launchers, having lost the cover of friendly fire, were quickly overtaken by hordes of Zombies and Corpse Hounds, who proceeded to enjoy an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Left with no other choice, they used the last of their strength to pull the trigger, blindly firing the anti-armor rockets already loaded in their launchers.

At long last, the three minutes passed and the roar of a dive bomber echoed overhead. A single 100-kilogram bomb dropped from the sky. Its warhead, filled with solid hydrogen and azide compounds, packed an explosive force that was anything but ordinary.

The blast slammed the once-invincible monster flat onto the ground.

Watching the inferno erupt and the wounded creature collapse, Better Relax, covered in injuries, finally reached his limit.

A Crawler lunged at him, knocked him to the ground, and tore out his throat.

After converting their remaining points into holdout time, they had managed to last only a little over an hour. Factoring in the overall difficulty multiplier, 105 players split a reward pool of 110,000 silver coins with each person receiving a little over 1,000.

After deducting the cost of ammunition, clothing, and manufacturing a replacement VM, they had still turned a slight profit. Though only a slight one.

...

600 meters ahead of the Abstract Corps' Purification Station, the fighting around the Storm Corps' Purification Base was every bit as intense and lively.

The difference was that the players dispatched by the Storm Corps were genuine veterans. Their commander, Kakarot, had directed numerous real frontline operations. Naturally, their tactics were considerably less... abstract than those of the Abstract Corps.

Still, despite the rather amateurish performance of their allies, none of them looked down on the newcomers.

After all, who hadn't once been a rookie? That was simply how this game worked.

You died, then you died again. And one day, somehow, you realized you had become strong.

"... Brother Kakarot, those guys farming points behind us don't look like they're going to last much longer. Want me to take some people over to help them?" Wiping slime off his helmet, Oldie Leaving Eggs looked toward Kakarot.

Compared to the rookies, the pressure they were under wasn't nearly as great. The incubation chamber they had lugged over was already operating successfully, producing Crunchers and even Creepers carrying the type B strain. Although their numbers were still small, they nevertheless helped relieve some of the burden.

So far, the Storm Corps hadn't suffered a single casualty.

He even suspected that the people hiding inside the Sanctuary had realized they were too tough a nut to crack and had deliberately shifted their attention to the rookies hiding behind them and farming points.

After all, the Kingdom of Heaven wasn't a naturally occurring phenomenon. It was directed by an intelligent will.

Kakarot smiled. "No rush. Let them struggle a little longer. You don't grow without experiencing a losing match."

He couldn't shake the feeling that the Torch Church was deliberately trying to lure them into splitting off part of their forces to rescue the friendly unit behind them. If they divided their troops now, they would probably be falling right into the enemy's trap.

A nearby player lowered his binoculars and spoke. "... No need anymore, they're all dead."

Kakarot looked slightly embarrassed. After coughing awkwardly, he continued, "Then... take a few people over there and recover their equipment. Once you're done, I'll call in an artillery strike and level that whole area. We can't let their sacrifice go to waste."

If they could recover the VMs, at least they could reduce some of the rookies' losses. As for the remaining weapons and ammunition, according to long-standing custom, whoever picked them up could use them during the mission. After returning, they simply had to hand back whatever remained.

The moment he heard they were going to loot friendly gear boxes, the player immediately perked up.

"Got it!"

Without another word, he gathered several nearby teammates, hoisted the supply crate taller than a person onto their backs, and sprinted 600 meters toward the rear...

...

In the span of a single day, the New Alliance deployed over a hundred units around Lai Peak, launching wave after wave of relentless assaults against the Torch Church's Kingdom of Heaven.

Those units were like steel nails, driven deep into the flesh of the Torch Church.

Not every nail managed to take hold. But even so, it was enough to make the Torch Church bleed.

Watching battlefields erupt all across the region, disbelief gradually crept into the Human Emperor's usually emotionless eyes. "... Have these people gone insane?"

They were actually trading lives for lives just to wear down the pieces under his command... In just one day, he had lost dozens of evolved forms and nearly 600,000 puppets! Even commanding billions of pieces, such losses could hardly be considered insignificant.

That was especially so since the New Alliance had developed the habit of immediately cleansing every battlefield with incendiary weapons after each engagement.

That meant he had to deploy his forces with extreme caution. Every piece he committed had to be treated as one that would never return.

He couldn't send too many at once, nor could he send too few.

That was because once New Alliance soldiers established a foothold in an area, they would continuously bring that filthy type B strain into his territory!

The astonishment in his eyes gradually gave way to wariness. Yet that wariness lasted only a few brief seconds before dissolving into the unfathomable madness lurking within his gaze.

Ignorant fools... You actually think you can fight a war of attrition against me?

You’re courting death!