Chapter 757.1: Everything Good On The Frontlines

As it turned out, those people really had gone crazy.

Of the more than 100 teams the New Alliance deployed to the front on the first day, fewer than 20 of them managed to hold out to the end. Yet on the second day, more than 50 new teams immediately took their place.

Seeing the New Alliance's momentum begin to wane, the Human Emperor secretly rejoiced. Especially when the number of teams reaching the front on the third day was cut in half once again. It seemed those lunatics were not truly inexhaustible after all.

Even the Wislanders' cannon-fodder clones, who lacked complete minds, needed two years to grow.

The New Alliance, meanwhile, was sending fully sentient people to the front.

With casualties on such a scale, anti-war sentiment within the New Alliance would surely erupt before long. After all, wastelanders were ultimately just opportunists who followed the wind. If someone forced them to march to certain death, they would undoubtedly turn tail and run without hesitation.

On the fourth day, just as he had expected, large sections of the once-flourishing front fell silent. Only a handful of positions with larger numbers of defenders were still stubbornly holding out.

Although the incubation chambers at those positions were troublesome, there was no way they could last much longer on their own. Faced with relentless attacks, they would eventually follow the fate of the other positions.

Amused, he waited to see how the New Alliance would perform on the fifth day. But when the sun rose on the fifth morning, he was completely dumbfounded. An endless sea of people stretched as far as the eye could see. Mountains and plains were covered with rifles and banners standing like a forest.

The people who had disappeared had come back. Not only that. There were even more of them than on the first day.

Their eyes were resolute, their footsteps unwavering, and shoulder to shoulder they marched toward the Ocean Edge Province. It was as if they had no idea what kind of place this was.

Or perhaps they knew perfectly well, and simply didn't care.

The combat power these people displayed also astonished him beyond measure. When dawn turned into dusk, it wasn't merely 20% of the positions that remained standing. More than 40% of their positions were held!

Those positions that had already been on the verge of collapse also regained their footing after the reinforcements arrived, even successfully purifying the land beneath them using incubation chambers carrying the type B strain.

Those people seemed to become stronger the longer they fought.

That was the one thing the Human Emperor simply couldn't comprehend.

Meanwhile, the Army also began advancing, copying the New Alliance's methods almost to the letter by establishing 10 positions along the northern border of the Ocean Edge Province.

The Academy and the Enterprise were unwilling to be outdone as well. Each dispatched their own teams, establishing more than a dozen positions centered around incubation chambers.

That way, the coalition forces continued clearing corruption while steadily infiltrating the Ocean Edge Province, constantly squeezing the Torch Church's living space smaller and smaller.

Staring in disbelief at everything happening along the front, the Human Emperor's mouth hung slightly open.

For a long while, not a single word came out.

Had these people completely lost their minds?!

...

In truth, it wasn't only the Torch Church's Pathfinders who thought the members of the New Alliance were insane.

Even many of the coalition high command found them rather outrageous.

Then again, who didn't have a few secrets of their own these days? The other factions possessed no fewer secrets than the New Alliance itself. So even if they found it unbelievable, it wasn't exactly appropriate to ask too many questions.

Besides, it wasn't as though the New Alliance were hiding anything.

As a result, everyone could only make educated guesses based on the limited intelligence available before forwarding their reports to headquarters.

Some speculated that the New Alliance had acquired a black box capable of mass-producing androids. Others believed they possessed technology for remotely controlling cloned soldiers.

As for resurrection, that possibility simply sounded too absurd.

There were plenty of similar rumors circulating around Dawn City but when analyzing serious matters, people relied on evidence. Ironically, that made very few people consider such an explanation.

The rank-and-file officers and soldiers, however, didn't think that deeply. Most of them were fighting so far from home for the first time and knew little about the local situation.

Based on their first impressions, they mostly regarded the New Alliance's fearless warriors with respect and admiration. After all, people who fought bravely and faced death without fear weren't exactly rare.

But seeing so many such people gathered together in one place, that was truly shocking.

...

North of the Guardian Manor Military Base.

As the coalition forces launched another round of offensives, Gwent Town, having only recently survived the ravages of war, became bustling once again.

The southern gate of the town was packed with stalls. Some vendors had even gone to the trouble of decorating their booths to attract customers.

Others, less concerned with appearances, simply tethered a two-headed ox or parked a three-wheeled cart and called it a shop.

The most distant merchants had even traveled all the way from the Poro Province. The wastelanders who had settled there hadn't moved away because of the recent catastrophe. On the contrary, after witnessing the New Alliance's performance during that battle and the protection it had provided them, they became even more determined to stay.

After all, where on the wasteland was truly safe? No one could predict when a peaceful stretch of wilderness would transform into a hellscape shrouded in death.

Theoretically, such disasters could occur anywhere.

The important thing wasn't whether danger appeared. It was whether it could be dealt with afterward.

The New Alliance's ability to restore order in the face of catastrophe was itself a form of security for survivors who had long suffered under the wasteland.

Another reason people chose to remain was the gleaming coins.

With every member of the coalition sending reinforcements toward the frontlines, the town had become even livelier than before.

Merchants hawked their wares throughout the marketplace.

If not for the lingering patches of gray-green mist visible in the distance, no one would have guessed that only half a month earlier, the entire region had suffered a devastating calamity.

Even if it had, at least for the people living there, that chapter had already passed.

"Roasted corn! Fresh roasted corn!"

"Scimitars from the Honey Badger Kingdom! They are razor sharp! Cuts through iron like mud! Only 100 Silver apiece!"

"Buy yourself a mountain goat, sir! The roads ahead are rough, and who knows when the New Alliance will finish extending the railway?!"

"What era do you think this is? Still hauling freight with livestock? Need something delivered to the front? One brother from our corps is worth two oxen!" ℴℴ𝘮

"Holy crap, what kind of monster is that... Sounds more like a beast of burden..."

"LD-47s! Full LD-series equipment! The toughest guns on the battlefield... Featured in Battle Royale!"

"I'll take two!"

"Coming right up! Which model would you like?"

"Two LD-47s!"

"Buying one for a friend?"

"Friend my ass. I'm gonna dual-wield them!"

"... Respect."

The variety wasn't limited to the stalls or the people passing through them. The goods on display were just as diverse. Some sold weapons while others sold clothing.

Some hawked sweet potatoes or roasted potatoes and others peddled all sorts of bizarre trinkets.

There were miracle elixirs supposedly capable of awakening one's powers with a single sip. There were even Gwent Cards booster packs rumored to contain the Blue-Eyes White Dragon. The latter was especially beloved by the Ideal City softies. Without Endpoint Cloud to brag on, they needed another shared hobby to talk about.

The Wislanders, meanwhile, remained as predictable as ever. More than 100,000 soldiers had nearly drunk the local supply of high-proof liquor dry. Among them, Twisting Birdie vodka, produced by Goblin Technology, was by far the favorite of Wislander junior officers and enlisted soldiers.

Since it was distilled from potatoes, the New Alliance's potato prices had actually gone up because of them.

Compared to the consistent tastes of Ideal City's softies and the Wislanders, however, the tastes of the New Alliance's shelter dwellers were utterly impossible to understand, especially the newcomers. They seemed particularly obsessed with flashy-looking gadgets that were, in reality, almost completely useless.

Most of the products Goblin Technology displayed fell into exactly that category, especially the items personally promoted by the company's owner.

After all, if those things were genuinely that useful, there would hardly be any need for the CEO, chairman, factory manager, and commander of the Goblin Corps himself to personally hawk them.

"Tch. A bunch of fools who don’t know what’s good for them." Looking at the bustling stall nearby, Mosquito wore an annoyed expression and muttered sourly under his breath.

Passing by at just that moment, Eye Owe Money glanced over the merchandise and nearly burst out laughing. The six-barreled pistol and the double-barreled assault rifle were at least somewhat reasonable. At worst, their designs were merely... unconventional.

Or perhaps, they could be considered retro.

However, then came things like a mobile shield welded onto a tricycle, an automatic magazine-changing machine designed to work alongside the LD-47, and an infantry rocket backpack that only handled going up but offered absolutely no help coming back down.

Looking at the bizarre assortment, one couldn't help questioning Mosquito's mental state.

"Holy crap. Are you selling circus equipment?" Eye Owe Money teased.

Mosquito rolled his eyes. "What the hell do you know? This is art! If you're not buying, don't touch it with your filthy hands!"

Putting the six-barreled pistol back on the table, Eye Owe Money sighed dramatically, "As far as I'm concerned, something appreciated by the majority is what qualifies as art. Like the works at Teng Teng’s Hut."

Mosquito chuckled, "Go on, go say that to Teng Teng’s face. See if she doesn't beat you to death."

"This piece of equipment is actually kind of interesting..." At that moment, Construction Boy picked up a steel shield and examined the hideous crimson fungal mat that covered its surface.

Looking at it curiously, he asked, "So... what's this supposed to do?"

"Now that's someone with good taste!" Seeing someone finally interested in one of his creations, Mosquito's eyes lit up. He grinned enthusiastically and introduced, "This is a shield made from self-repairing materials! Not only is its durability maxed out, it also absorbs organic matter from its surroundings to increase both its defensive strength and protective coverage!"