CHAPTER 873: CHAPTER 873: AN EVENLY MATCHED SHOWDOWN

The news of the establishment of the Northern Field Army from the restructured 11th and 30,000th troops quickly spread across the front lines, and reactions varied from the command level to the grassroots troops.

Some people breathed a sigh of relief, even feeling fortunate, especially those with families and the old soldiers who had been on the battlefield for a long time.

After all, anyone with a keen eye could see that staying here was almost certain death.

However, some people expressed incomprehension or even indignation.

Most of these people were young, especially lads aged fifteen to seventeen.

Having heard of the atrocities committed by the Weilante people in Lion City, they were already filled with anger, eager to engage in a life-and-death battle with those big-nosed foes immediately.

The retreat of the Horn Number, in particular, gave them a glimmer of hope for victory — the brothers of the Alliance showed them through their actions that the army was not invincible.

But now, with just a single order from Absek, they were asked to hand over this opportunity, pouring cold water onto their fiery passion!

Especially Commander Yocale of the 11th Ten Thousand Troops.

Another major contributor to the great victory in Akale County, he immediately stood up from the command table with rage after hearing the relayed order from Yishel.

"I disagree!"

As if feeling that his tone was not intense enough, he followed up immediately with a resolute tone after saying the first sentence.

"I strongly disagree! You know the strategic significance of Akale County too. Once the army controls this place, their supply lines can drive straight through our southern plains! Moreover, to change defenses at this time is practically playing with the lives of our frontline soldiers!"

After all, the Northern Three States are mostly mountainous, and the Mammoth Nation’s army logistics system doesn’t have ammunition for 200mm guns, and Absek couldn’t possibly leave these equipment for Laxi.

Which means that once their 11th Ten Thousand Troops head north, they’ll have to leave behind those 52 self-propelled guns.

His soldiers had just painstakingly learned how to operate those cannons, and now Absek was asking him to spit out the meat already in their mouths; how could he agree!

As for death.

He wasn’t as afraid of that.

Since hearing the news of Udonuo’s death, he was already prepared to die heroically, as long as he could kill more Weilante people, he believed even death would be worthwhile.

Faced with the furious Yocale, Yishel found himself speechless for a moment.

The strategic significance of Akale County was indeed important, not only could they see it, but the army could see it too.

However, precisely because of this, the army would definitely do its utmost to attack here. Even with support from the Death Legion, relying solely on their numbers to defend this place was almost impossible.

The best they could hope for was to eliminate as much of the army’s living strength here as possible, laying the groundwork for future victories.

This is akin to horse racing.

Using ponies to take out the opponent’s superior horses, hoping to use their own superior horses in the second encounter to take out the opponent’s medium horses.

The cruel part, however, is that the losing horse will die.

Therefore, this is not only a military matter but also a political one.

Yocale apparently did not understand the olive branch thrown by Absek.

Yishel could even assert that if this guy dared defy the orders, even if he won the battle in the future, he would end up on the execution ground.

Though he didn’t want to use his rank to pressure people, he also didn’t want to watch the guy go down the wrong path, so he assumed the authority of an officer and gave an order in a firm tone.

"Van Leader Yocale! This is an order! Following orders is your duty, I don’t want to say it a second time!"

Yocale’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"What if I don’t listen?"

Yishel said expressionlessly.

"Then I’ll have to send you to the military court."

The air inside the command tent instantly turned tense.

Sensing the confrontational atmosphere, the guards on both sides couldn’t help but place their hands on their sidearms.

Yocale’s eyes became slits as he stared intently at Yishel, who was expressionless, before suddenly shouting at the guards beside him.

"What are you doing? Do you want to rebel?"

The guard beside him was baffled but instinctively removed his hand from his holster.

The guards behind Yishel breathed a sigh of relief as well, removing their hands from their holsters.

If given a choice, they really didn’t want to fight their compatriots.

Ever since the chaos of the Heavenly King, enough of their own people had died in infighting...

Walking over to Yishel, Yocale stared into his eyes and squeezed a sentence through gritted teeth.

"...Fine, I’ll listen to you."

Just like the guards by his side, he would rather die at the hands of the Weilante people than by their own hands, and he certainly didn’t want to be branded a traitor.

Although this didn’t contradict the anger in his heart.

What he particularly couldn’t accept was that this guy, who until a month ago was a lowly leader of thousands, had now climbed over his head.

Back when Anush was still around, he was already a one-star leader of ten thousand!

Looking at the resentful gaze, Yishel didn’t show much reaction, simply nodded slightly.

"Then hurry up and go."

...

The change of defense was now a foregone conclusion.

Just the day after Yishel spoke with Van Leader Yocale, the 50th, 51st, and 53rd ten thousand troops set off in grand procession towards the defensive segment at the bend of the great river.

Although these young lads were not very tall, most of them thin as beanpoles, each one of them was high-spirited and full of energy.

Moreover, their shoulders were all equipped uniformly with LD-47s, their waists strapped with engineer shovels like those of the Death Legion, and occasionally, a couple of brothers carried RPG rocket launchers on their backs.

This fine equipment made the brothers of the 11th Ten Thousand Troops envious.

Most of them were the remnants of Udonuo’s old forces, and their equipment was all hard-earned plunder from the Weilante people.

These guys are really something, starting with the "full-equipped" God Equip, and soon they’ll "pick up for free" fifty-two self-propelled guns.

Near the logistics department.

A few old soldiers stood beside the ammunition storage, looking enviously at the new recruits "test driving" in the distance, unable to hold back their muttering.

"Damn, leaving such great equipment to these rookies is a total waste."

"Ha... who made us end up with a long-distance running champion."

"I remember that guy was also in Lion City back then, General Udonuo stayed behind, but he ran."

"Haha, cowards do find each other. Otherwise, why did he get promoted instead of our leader?"

"Tsk, just this coward is qualified to inherit the title of the third ten-thousand troops! It’s simply an insult to Commander Meta!"

Commander Meta was the leader of the third ten-thousand troops and also the first leader-level officer from Poluo Country to die since the war started.

His fighting spirit, willing to die rather than surrender, inspired many, especially the grassroots soldiers.

The group whispered quietly until they saw Commander Yishel approaching from a distance, and then they stopped their gossip.

Dissatisfaction is dissatisfaction.

They weren’t about to create trouble for their commander.

Although they hid their disappointment carefully, it was clearly not something that could be hidden from Yishel’s eyes.

However, he wasn’t the type to be narrow-minded, and there was no need to quibble with a bunch of grunts. After completing the equipment handover, he went straight back to the position of the third ten-thousand troops.

Unlike the brothers of the eleventh ten-thousand troops.

The reassembled third ten-thousand troops were all his loyal troops, from the thousands of leaders down to the grunts were his people.

Absek hoped he could take the chance of forming the Northern Field Army to incorporate Yakale under his command.

But given Yakale’s previous uncooperative attitude, he didn’t have high hopes for Yakale to actively cooperate with him.

He planned to promote some mid-level officers to the eleventh ten-thousand troops to serve as staff officers or instructors.

This way, regardless of whether Yakale could understand his difficult position, at least nominally it was justified.

He didn’t want to see such a promising officer die in the power struggles outside the battlefield.

They’d already lost enough brothers for this...

After arranging the personnel matters, Yishel took a few of his guards and started to patrol the positions.

They would be leaving here tomorrow, and he wanted to take another look at the place where he once fought, and also to relax a bit.

When passing by an anti-aircraft position, Yishel suddenly noticed several helmets sticking up in a shell hole, gathered together looking at something.

During the safety meeting earlier, he had repeatedly emphasized with the officers below that except for necessary situations, no more than three people were allowed in the same pit.

Counting roughly, the whole squad was squatting inside!

Walking up quietly, Yishel took a look into the pit and saw in the center was a small booklet, and suddenly spoke.

"What are you guys looking at?"

Startled by the voice from above, a few soldiers quickly stood up, passing that booklet around, finally tossing it to a young fellow about sixteen or seventeen.

The young fellow looked quite honest, probably a farmer’s kid. Yishel just gave him a glare, and he stammered the whole story out.

"Re-reporting to the officer! It’s, it’s ’Family Letter’..."

Yishel was slightly startled.

"What?"

The young fellow scratched his head, nervously said.

"...I don’t know either; it was seized from those Vellante people, heard it’s a banned book in West Sail Port."

How could the Vellante people have banned books from West Sail Port?

Yishel was puzzled but soon thought of the privileges of the Vellante people in West Sail Port, so he wasn’t surprised anymore.

The Army had always followed the law of Triumph City for its own, while the law of West Sail Port was to restrict the people of Poluo.

Moreover, the book might not be the Vellante people’s own, perhaps it was snatched from nearby farmers or citizens.

But what intrigued Yishel was what kind of book could scare the Vellante people so much that they vigorously banned it.

"Why the hell did you pick up the prisoners’ stuff again? What did I say in the meeting before? Didn’t your officer teach you?"

After getting a good scolding, the young fellow explained aggrievedly.

"I didn’t take it... they left it behind."

"Let me take a look."

"Yes, sir!" Seeing the outstretched hand of the ten thousand leader, the young fellow immediately lifted the booklet above his head to pass it over.

Taking the "Family Letter", Yishel flipped through it and saw that it mainly consisted of some old clichés about persuading people toward good, nothing particularly fearsome.

It was just like the Silver Moon Sect’s code.

At least he couldn’t imagine why the Vellante people would be scared of this thing and even went as far as to ban it.

Or was there something hidden behind it?

However, what caught Yishel’s interest was not the content of the book, but the phonetic symbols printed line by line.

This phonetic system was quite useful.

Back when Mr. Melgio taught them to read, he first taught them the phonetic symbols, then the rest.

The United Human language was actually quite simple.

Once you could read, you were basically on the way to being able to write.

Flipping the booklet from start to finish, Yishel shook it in his hand, and looked at the anxious young fellow, asking.

"Can you understand this stuff?"

The young fellow looked confused, glancing at his comrades. Those soldiers also looked at each other, shaking their heads as they said.

"Don’t understand..."

"I can only write my name..."

"I barely understand a few phonetics... I can guess roughly."

Most of the soldiers in the Poluo Country’s army are kids from poor families. Joining the army was both a spur-of-the-moment decision and an unavoidable choice due to life’s pressures.

Even so, they vaguely have a concept in their minds that learning more is always beneficial.

Isn’t the recent big exam the best example?

Although the exam took place in Tiandu, the news reached the front lines and stirred many, especially the young ones.

They yearn to change their own destinies.

This fervent emotion is as sincere as their desire to change the fate of this land.

Seeing their eager expressions, Yishel felt touched.

"If you try figuring things out yourselves, what can you come up with? Wait until we go north, I’ll teach you!"

"Really?!"

The young man’s face immediately showed an excited expression.

The other soldiers felt the same, hearing General Yishel would personally teach them to read, each became excited.

"Of course it’s true," Yishel smiled and nodded, shaking the booklet in his hand, "Lend me this book for two days, and I’ll return it later."

The young man said with a naive smile.

"No need, no need, we have more here, feel free to take a look."

More?

Yishel paused, but just nodded, not giving it much thought.

Because at that moment, the roar of propellers came from afar as iron airships gradually outlined below the clouds.

There were five majestic steel fortresses!

Indeed, as they predicted, the Southern Legion placed all their bets on the eastern line!

Not far in the woods, Edge Shoveling was sitting on a small stool at the edge of a bullet hole, adjusting his rifle.

Noticing the light through the gaps in the forest being blocked, he instinctively looked up, gazing at the distant sky.

With eyes slightly squinting, Edge Shoveling laid the rifle down.

"Finally here."

...

Arriving at the battlefield were not just five airships.

Also Commander Ryan personally leading the 30th ten thousand troops, and the reassembled and reinforced 34th and 37th ten thousand troops!

Billowing smoke rose from the horizon, tanks and armored vehicles outlined in the wilderness.

Unlike before.

This time, the Legion is serious!

Just as the two airships included the eastern bank of the Everflow River in their range, they decisively dropped the heavy anchor chain, completing the firing preparation.

On the bridge of the airship, Captain John gazed at the forest outside the floor-to-ceiling window, waving expressionlessly.

The adjutant standing beside quickly grabbed the communicator, shouting loudly.

"Fire!!!"

The moment the words fell, cannons spat out long tongues of flame.

A rain of bullets poured down like flying locusts, colliding with the dense forest accompanied by whooshing sounds.

"Boom!!!"

The explosion flames instantly filled half the mountaintop, yellow-green smoke almost swallowed the entire forest on the eastern side of the river.

This barrage surpassed the previous battle’s Horn Number in terms of coverage and firepower density.

Not just this.

The rumbling cannon sounded for five rounds, as if intending to wipe out both the Alliance and Poluo Country’s positions from the Earth!

After a relentless bombardment, toxic fumes almost washed over the entire forest, as the veiled vegetation visibly withered, gradually exposing hidden positions.

In previous battles, Horn Number also used chemical weapons, but the effect was far less outstanding than this time.

The reason for this superiority is simple.

The Southern Legion’s frontline battlefield research institute improved the components and charge method of the "Mortal Serum."

Standing beside the floor-to-ceiling window, Martin in a white coat gazed fervently at the withering forest, eager to pierce the bulletproof glass with his nose.

As the director of the battlefield research institute, the "Mortal Serum" project is his work.

After the bombardment stopped, he immediately turned to Captain John sitting on the chair, smiling brightly.

"...How is it? Honorable Ten Thousand Leader, does my research satisfy you?"

"It’s alright."

With the right arm on the chair’s armrest and the chin resting on the hand, John replied indifferently.

Honestly, he’d prefer fire over gas.

However, unfortunately, this area is tropical, humid, and rainy, limiting the incendiary bomb’s destructive range.

Receiving affirmation, Martin revealed a chilling smile and continued unceasingly.

"The toxicity can be further enhanced... but I need some corpses, mainly for research purposes."

John said succinctly.

"I will relay your request to Commander Ryan, cleaning up the battlefield is the army’s work."

"Thank you very much!" Martin bowed deeply, then left the bridge on his own.

He had just finished watching the content he had accessed. Next, he only needed to wait for the Vellante people to deliver the bodies to his lab.

John did not stop him.

In fact, he couldn’t wait for this guy who reeked of corpses to get as far away as possible.

The adjutant standing by the side glanced at the closed door, then looked at John sitting on the chair and couldn’t help but sigh and say.

"This kind of guy is actually a resident of the refuge... I’d believe you if you said he was a mutant wearing human skin."

Looking at the land outside the floor-to-ceiling window, plowed by artillery fire, John chuckled lightly.

"I’ve never thought the refuge protects only good people. Concepts of good and bad are so vague and have never been the criteria for selection by the refuge."

Moreover, not all refuges perform normal sheltering tasks.

Among them are some twisted experiments, or big crises brewed over time.

Watching the advancing troops outside the window, the silent strategist finally spoke up.

"It’s over, this war is essentially without suspense now."

He couldn’t imagine anything that could stop this army.

Not even a nuclear bomb!

At that moment, a request for fire support came through the communication channel from the ground forces.

John looked at the adjutant next to him, who immediately understood and shouted into the communicator.

"Switch to incendiary shells!"

Just as the order was given, the cannons quickly finished loading.

After confirming the status of each gun crew, he immediately shouted again.

"Fire!!!"

Meanwhile, on the wilderness west of Everflow River, Ryan sat in the command vehicle, watching the flickering lights in the sky with a smile.

No carbon-based life form could survive such a concentrated barrage from the opposite trenches.

But just then, an exclamation came through the communication channel.

"Rockets! They’re the Alliance’s rockets!"

Upon hearing the voice, Ryan’s pupils constricted sharply. He immediately reached out to activate the holographic screen and connected to the observation camera on the roof of the command vehicle.

Almost simultaneously, rockets trailing fiery tails surged into the sky, against the rain of fire from distant mountains.

Were those rockets targeting the airships?

Are they crazy?!

A trace of confusion flashed across Ryan’s eyes, unable to understand what this was all about.

But his confusion didn’t last long; the explosion in the sky quickly answered him.

Those rockets indeed didn’t hit the airships, but the fragments and incendiary materials produced by the explosions were "sucked" in by the rows of outward-extending propellers.

Realizing what the Alliance was trying to do, Ryan’s expression changed instantly, and he shouted into the intercom.

"Turn off the propellers!"

In fact, before he had even finished saying it, the captains had already realized the problem and ordered the propellers to be shut down.

Unfortunately, they were still a step too late!

The fuel-ignited propellers instantly turned into a ball of fire, and the fierce flames continued to spread along the extended wings towards the airships.

Three out of five airships had their wings ignited!

The deflection shields could block exploding fragments but not the burning flames.

Left with no choice, the three unlucky airships had to abandon their wings, letting the burning "wings" fall to the ground.

Although the wing damage was not fatal to the Legion’s airships, losing mobility immediately was embarrassing enough for them.

Commander Ryan, with anger burning in his heart, gritted his teeth, wishing to crush them to dust.

"Horn, Rolling Thunder, heed my orders! Target their counterfire and hit them for me!"

Answers quickly came through the communication channel.

"Understood... but esteemed Commander Ryan, the enemy’s rocket artillery positions are beyond our effective range!"

"Then pull up the anchor chain and sail over to hit them for me!"

Without a moment’s pause, Commander Ryan continued to shout orders loudly.

"Attention 30th, 34th, 37th Ten Thousand Troops! Continue advancing toward the riverbank! Annihilate every living being in front of you!"

"Crush them!!!"

On the other side, on the eastern shore of Everflow River, Debt Giant Eye, wearing a gas mask, stood up on the position.

Although their rocket artillery had embarrassed the Legion, the opposing artillery also inflicted considerable casualties on them.

Including brother Edge Shoveling, who died in the previous bombardment.

But actually, it didn’t really matter.

For the Skeleton Corps, sacrificing the army leader was accidental.

But for the Death Legion, it’s just standard operation.

Taking over the command without hesitation, Debt Giant Eye shouted loudly.

"Brothers! These big-nosed ones aren’t giving up, let’s teach them a lesson!!!"

The communication channel soon resounded with roaring and enthusiastic shouts.

"Oooh ooh ooh!!!"