"A misunderstanding, a misunderstanding!" the old man blocked Wang Shangmeng, asking somewhat flustered, "Do you remember I asked you when we first met if McGathon was a place or an organization? You said an organization, don't you remember?"
Wang Shangmeng stared coldly at Provence, still keeping his gun raised.
Provence walked slowly up to Wang Shangmeng. He was so tall and sturdy, towering two heads above Wang Shangmeng.
But the cold, fearless killing intent emanating from Wang Shangmeng was no less than his.
"The real McGathon is our holy land and homeland. She is behind us, the place we protect," Provence said firmly.
"Yes, those murderers stole the holy name of McGathon. They are the castoffs of the old gods!" Yoda stepped forward.
"They are extremists. After we drove them away, they occupied the northern holy land, Nethena, and claimed to be the legitimate successors of McGathon," the old man explained.
Wang Shangmeng stared at Provence and asked coldly, "How do you know Hatu?"
"Ha! I am a remnant of the holy war, a defector, an awakened one, a guardian of the old gods and order, a wanderer of the earth, a warrior of the holy city, an overturner of evil gods! A year ago, I met Hatu in the territory of the evil god, and we hit it off immediately!"
Wang Shangmeng was momentarily at a loss for words, and embarrassedly asked the old man, "Is he your son?"
Panda rushed forward and punched Provence in the head, exclaiming, "When will your chuunibyou end! Aren't you ashamed! Yes, Dad was indeed a member of the McGathon organization, but he ran away later!"
Wang Shangmeng slowly lowered his hand holding the gun. Provence threw an arm around him and enthusiastically invited him to the bar for a drink.
As dawn broke, everyone began to disperse. Provence watched Wang Shangmeng's retreating back and said to the old man, "I don't like that person."
"I feel like he has more stories than I do," the old man replied.
"I'll find someone reliable to get some information."
"You're the only one who can handle this," the old man said, patting Provence on the shoulder before leaving.
Three days later, the scouts returned, bringing back a reconnaissance soldier. According to the soldier's confession, the McGathon organization had confirmed their location and could attack at any time.
Provence quickly organized the people to evacuate. If the enemy attacked, their few mechs could not resist. They needed to retreat to the rear camp further south to garrison.
The old man asked Provence about the information he had inquired about. Provence remained silent, only saying they could discuss it later.
Panda came to notify Wang Shangmeng about the retreat.
Unexpectedly, Wang Shangmeng, along with his battered mech, had disappeared.
Panda stared at the empty room and cursed, "Ungrateful!"
On the night after Provence led everyone away,
A large number of McGathon organization mechs appeared in the sky above the camp. They bombed the camp fiercely before sending in their mech troops to land, but the place was already deserted.
Just as they were looting, searchlight beams suddenly illuminated the mountain peak, and a peculiar mech appeared atop it.
The searchlight then vanished, leaving only the mech's magnificent tail flame streaking towards the McGathon mechs.
The McGathon ground forces fired furiously at the sky, and the mechs quickly ascended,
But the peculiar mech, like a ghost, hovered and dodged from side to side. The fire chains and rain of bullets from the anti-aircraft weapons were useless against it.
All McGathon mechs had already taken to the air. The long-range attack mechs, disregarding their teammates charging ahead, fired indiscriminately. Missiles, beam cannons, electromagnetic pulse cannons, and hot air pressure guns were all unleashed.
The sky was lit up by various weapons.
The peculiar mech constantly dodged the barrage of fire, suddenly disappearing and reappearing behind enemy mechs, quickly taking them down before extinguishing all lights and vanishing into the darkness. The next moment, it miraculously reappeared behind another enemy mech.
Explosions, the sound of wind, and screams echoed above the camp.
Fifteen minutes later, the mech disappeared into the night.
The few remaining McGathon soldiers fled in disarray, leaving behind only vast amounts of wreckage.
The next day at noon, Provence returned with his guerrilla squad. They were astonished and bewildered by the scene of devastation.
"Captain, there were 17 McGathon mechs here, all damaged," someone reported to Provence.
On the third day, scouts reported that a McGathon stronghold to the north had been destroyed. A captured organization member said the attacker was just one battered mech.
Provence looked at the old man, who also had no words.
On the fourth and fifth days, continuous reports came in of McGathon strongholds being attacked, supplies looted, and ammunition depots destroyed.
Provence could no longer sit still and flew out of the camp alone in his mech.
Amidst the endless yellow sand, by an oasis, Provence finally found the battered mech.
Wang Shangmeng was cooking.
Provence walked over and sat beside Wang Shangmeng.
They were both silent.
After the meal was ready, Wang Shangmeng served a bowl and handed it to Provence.
Provence took out a bottle of wine from his pocket and gave it to Wang Shangmeng.
They ate and chatted.
"Why didn't you come with us?" Provence asked.
Wang Shangmeng replied calmly, "I don't want to run anymore."
Provence hesitated for a few seconds and said, "I heard about your past from someone. It wasn't your fault."
Wang Shangmeng's expression became extremely pained for a moment, but he gritted his teeth and endured, quickly regaining his composure.
Provence knew that was the look of someone recalling painful memories.
Suddenly, a fierce sandstorm erupted.
Wang Shangmeng looked in the direction of the wind, sniffed, and said, "You should leave quickly." He then dropped his bowl and rushed towards his mech.
In the midst of the swirling sand, over twenty McGathon mechs were flying towards them.
Provence was still hesitating, but Wang Shangmeng had already piloted his mech to charge forward.
The mechs fought amidst the dark, swirling sand and wind, kicking up even larger dust storms.
The sounds of clashing armor and weapons fire continuously emanated from the sandstorm.
Provence also piloted his mech into the fray, attacking alongside Wang Shangmeng.
The heat of battle gradually excited Provence; he hadn't felt this exhilarated in a long time.
His mech swung its warhammer, repeatedly smashing into enemy mechs, the deafening sound making him unable to stop.
Wang Shangmeng's combat style was exquisite and peculiar. Utilizing various blind spots, his rusty sword constantly sliced through the enemy mechs' bodies.
The battle ended.
They destroyed over a dozen enemy mechs, and the remaining enemies fled in disarray.
Provence wanted to pull Wang Shangmeng back to the camp,
But Wang Shangmeng ignored him, continuing to pursue the enemy and disappearing into the sandstorm.
As night fell, the camp was peaceful and beautiful, invigorating the spirit.
Provence returned to his quarters in the camp. The old man was already waiting. "Did you find him?"
"Hahaha! That was exhilarating. He's a true warrior!"
"What happened?"
"I like him more and more!" Provence said, walking towards the backyard.
The backyard was full of purple flowers. Each stem bore over a dozen small purple flowers, with dozens or hundreds of stems making up a plant. There were dozens of such plants in the yard.
At a glance, it looked like a farmhouse courtyard transplanted to a warm, humid plain.
Provence washed his hands, picked up a watering can, filled it with water, whistled a cheerful tune, and leisurely watered the flowers.
Seeing this, the old man didn't ask further and turned to leave.
When he saw the old man leave, Provence put down the watering can, sat among the flowers, and a worried expression appeared on his face.
Wang Shangmeng's departing figure was resolute and brave. He knew what he had to do; he was a hungry lone wolf, biting down on its prey and refusing to let go.
However fierce the lone wolf, it couldn't fight a pack of wild dogs.
Provence desperately wanted to help him, but helping him meant provoking more war. The current strength of the Asursan Alliance was not enough to confront the McGathon organization head-on.
But Wang Shangmeng's back was like a bright red flag fluttering in Provence's heart. Once upon a time, he too had wanted to be like Wang Shangmeng, standing alone without fear.
Provence pondered for a long time, his eyes suddenly firming. He got up, called out to his comrades, and three mechs disappeared into the night sky.
At dawn, they found a McGathon organization military camp, which had been utterly destroyed.
Tattered tent fabric fluttered from flagpoles, ammunition was scattered across the ground, and broken mech armor was everywhere.
More than a dozen organization soldiers lay on the ground, unmoving, with black and red blood flowing from beneath them.
They disembarked from their mechs to investigate. A figure darted out from behind a withered tree. The short pilot drew a pistol and shouted, "Who's there?"
Provence placed a hand on his gun and said, "It's the person we were looking for."
The figure slumped against the withered tree, and Provence quickly walked over.
Wang Shangmeng clutched his shoulder, blood seeping through his sleeve. His lips were already pale and dry, cracked.
His eyes were glazed, showing no sign of lucidity.
Yoda surveyed the surroundings and warned, "We must withdraw as soon as possible."
Wang Shangmeng shook his head slightly and raised a finger, pointing into the distance. There stood a tall and majestic white mech, incredibly beautiful, unlike any Provence had ever seen.
"My..." Wang Shangmeng said weakly.
"Brother, we'll take you back," Provence said, picking up Wang Shangmeng and walking towards the mech.
"No, destroy it!" Wang Shangmeng said, his voice sharp and resolute.
After speaking, Wang Shangmeng, having lost too much blood, could no longer support his consciousness. His head lolled to the side, and he fainted.
...
Unsure how long he had been unconscious, Wang Shangmeng awoke from a dream.
He felt the hard bed and was still recalling memories when pain pulled him back to reality.
He struggled to sit up, leaning on the wall as he staggered out the door.
The beautiful white mech stood silently in the hangar; it was Qilong 003, his ride.
But now, Wang Shangmeng looked at it as if it were a demon, his pupils contracting, his eyes cold.
This mech held all his painful memories.
"Awake?" Hatu removed his welding mask, revealing a tired smile. "Ah, I haven't been this busy in a long time. Speaking of which, this mech is truly amazing! It's the most powerful mech I've ever seen!"
Wang Shangmeng slumped into a chair, picked up a glass of water, and drank it, then spat it out.
"Haha! That's my homemade liquor. You don't like it, do you?" Hatu laughed heartily.
Wang Shangmeng spat out the last mouthful of watery saliva and said weakly, "Hatu, stop tinkering with it. I won't be piloting this mech."
"Why? Provence said this is your exclusive ride!"
"Not anymore."
Wang Shangmeng's eyes were fixed on the ground, evading. Many memories resurfaced.
"Regardless, the mech is not to blame. Provence asked me to fix it; he hopes to fight alongside you," Hatu said excitedly.
"Hatu, what kind of person is he?"
"Provence? He's one of our captains, haha. Don't let his rough, burly appearance fool you, but the flowers he grows are too beautiful."
"Captain..." Wang Shangmeng murmured.
"Captain! Hahaha!" A voice surged from the depths of his memory. The image of a robust young man with an eternally innocent smile appeared in Wang Shangmeng's mind, along with the desperate and tragic scene of his death.
Wang Shangmeng covered his head with his hands.
Every time memories assaulted him, they were accompanied by a headache.
Memories from the laboratory surfaced.
A group of people in dirty white lab coats fed him medication.
The restraint straps that had been torn.
Tattered bedsheets.
Blinding white light.
Then, in an instant, it transformed into raging inferno.
Teammates fell one by one before his eyes.
The mech that soared into the clouds, its armor reflecting the flames with a red hue.
"Captain, what's wrong?"
"Captain?"
"Captain!!!"
"Traitor! You murdered your own brothers!!!"
"Coward!!!"
"Feeling any better?" Provence's voice brought Wang Shangmeng back. "Have some water. Your expression is too painful."
Wang Shangmeng, sweating, looked up. Suddenly, his eyes widened in terror as he remembered something extremely serious: "Hatu, there's a tracker."
Hatu reacted for a second, immediately realizing the gravity of the situation. He threw down his mask and quickly scrambled into the cockpit. A moment later, he emerged with a small instrument, looking at Provence with fear in his eyes.
Provence sensed great danger and turned to rush out.
Wang Shangmeng asked weakly but calmly, "Do you have adrenaline?"
"Yes, I'll get it for you!"
The sky was filled with swirling yellow sand.
Outside the camp were rows of resistance mechs.
And in the sky, a vast darkness pressed down.
It wasn't dark clouds, but hundreds of McGathon organization mechs forming a terrifying, sky-obscuring expanse.
The ground anti-mech defense weapons inside the camp began to fire,
Countless fire chains of bullets shooting furiously.
Dozens of self-propelled artillery mechs aimed their cannons at the enemy aircraft in the sky, continuously firing beam cannons.
Deafening bombardment sounds echoed from outside the hangar.
Wang Shangmeng climbed into his old ride. A mixture of familiarity, guilt, regret, relief, and excitement surged through him.
His expression was calm, his eyes fearless. He operated each step skillfully, as easily as manipulating his fingers.
Old friend, it's time to fight side-by-side again!
"For the Holy City! For McGathon!"
"For Holy City McGathon!"
The thunderous shouts of the resistance army echoed from outside the hangar, uplifting and fearless.
"For you," Wang Shangmeng murmured, piloting his mech out of the hangar.
Hundreds of enemy aircraft flew in the sky, a dark mass pressing down.
Wang Shangmeng felt no hesitation or fear,
Only the flames of revenge burning in his chest.
Charge!
Kill!!!
Wang Shangmeng was the first to charge, dodging the resistance army's ground fire and quickly plunging into the enemy formation.
Provence led the resistance mechs, following Wang Shangmeng into the fray.
The two sides engaged in a fierce battle in mid-air.
Wang Shangmeng's combat skills were extremely refined. Qilong 003, like a thunderous dragon dancing, continuously harvested the enemy mechs. Provence's combat style was heroic and unyielding; he swung his warhammer, unstoppable. Every resistance fighter was a hero, facing enemies several times their number without fear.
They weren't defending; they were actively surrounding the enemy.
The battle lasted all day. With the enemy's command flagship mech decapitated by Wang Shangmeng, the enemy lost all will to fight and retreated.
The resistance army defended the camp but paid a heavy price.
What were once densely packed barracks were now ruins.
Mech wreckage, smoking with fire and black smoke, was scattered across the land.
The once peaceful and beautiful camp had become a scene of despair.
When Wang Shangmeng found Provence's mech, a long saber was directly piercing the external armor of the cockpit.
People worked together to open the cockpit, and the seriously injured Provence was carried out.
Wang Shangmeng covered the wound on Provence's abdomen, while medical personnel continuously cleared blood from Provence's mouth to prevent him from suffocating.
Provence said weakly, "Brother, I've harmed everyone."
Wang Shangmeng gripped his hand tightly. He recalled his comrades who had fallen into his arms before; the scene was so similar, and grief rendered him speechless.
Provence used his last ounce of strength and said weakly, "Do you know why I'm called Provence... The flowers there are so beautiful... Just like my mother's garden..."
As he passed, his eyes were slightly open, and the corners of his mouth were upturned.
When Panda returned to the camp and saw Provence's body, her young yet resolute face was covered in tears.
Panda guarded her father's body until his burial. After that, her eyes were no longer innocent.
Wang Shangmeng still had to leave. He had retrieved his exclusive mech and was now going to settle the score with the McGathon organization.
He had earned the respect of the Asursan Alliance. They told him the location of the Holy City McGathon and welcomed him back anytime.
But Wang Shangmeng did not leave alone.
Panda became his disciple and boarded his mech.
Yoda piloted her large red mech, following behind Qilong.
Two mechs sped towards the base of the McGathon extremist terrorist organization, Nethena.
Just then,
The Qilong mech's radar suddenly detected four white dots.
A faint but familiar electromagnetic wave sound came through the communication, followed by the cold voice of a strange girl with an Adaiya accent:
"Hunter Team Five calling, War God of Xianxia Wang Shangmeng, please respond."