At the same time Edge Shoveling boarded the plane, a grand battle was taking place in the northwest of Evernight Harbor, in the Lavanka Industrial Zone!
This industrial zone is located on the southeastern bank of the Lavanka River, with two railways and a deepwater port connecting four processing centers, five mining bases, and a heavy shipyard.
In addition, there are three hundred thousand survivors living here, among which one quarter are industrial workers and engineers employed by the Yavente Heavy Industry Group.
The resources produced in this area not only supply the front line of the Poluo Province war zone but also supply various military factories along the two rail lines.
Including the armor steel used for Conqueror No. 10 tank production line, which comes from the steel plant in this region!
Almost one-third of the total production value of the Southern Legion is generated directly or indirectly in this industrial zone!
It's no exaggeration to say that losing Lavanka Industrial Zone would be a blow to the Southern Legion even more severe than losing one-third of its territory.
Precisely because of its critical strategic significance, both sides see this industrial zone as a must-win location.
The defense of this region is tasked to the renowned "Desert Lion," General Rubis of the Southern Legion.
Born in Triumph City, he grew up in a military aristocracy family, exposed to military education from a young age, and became a leader of ten thousand troops at just 35, commanding the 111 ten thousand troops against Mutants and the Looter Tribe in the Great Desert.
His glorious achievement as leader of a thousand troops was defeating a Mutant tribe several times stronger than his side with almost no casualties while leading a youth army.
Because of this miraculous record, for a long time, he was seen as a rising star by the officers of Yavente City.
However, just as his career seemed smooth sailing, the West Sail Port tragedy suddenly erupted, and "invading Poluo Province" and "defending the Weilante's property with firearms" became the consensus of the Southern Legion.
Although there was a hint of conspiracy, no one cared amidst the tide of public outrage.
The young men eagerly wished to go to the front lines and kill a few heads to vent their anger, while older officers were ready to add more medals to their chests.
He was different; not only did he speak cynically when the situation was favorable but also vehemently criticized General Giulion for his actions in West Sail Port that exacerbated the tensions.
Such comments were evidently inappropriate at the time, and unsurprisingly, he faced hostility from General Giulion and was marginalized by the mainstream Southern Legion factions.
Thus, the famous "Desert Lion" sat on the cold bench for half a year until the alliance troops landed at Evernight Harbor, defeating the local garrison and over a hundred thousand reserves in disarray, prompting the Southern Legion to suddenly remember somebody skilled available.
Rubis didn't disappoint the Southern Legion's headquarters, quickly taking up the banner of organizing defense. Before the alliance bombers arrived, he evacuated key industrial facilities from the Lavanka Industrial Zone and used the local building materials to fortify this desert industrial zone into an impregnable fortress.
It must be said, this guy has some skills. With just ten thousand soldiers, he managed to withstand two rounds of alliance attacks and successfully waited for reinforcements to arrive.
Currently, the defending force stationed in the Lavanka Industrial Zone has approached 300,000!
Apart from the 111, 112, 113 ten thousand troops, he also has seven servant army ten thousand troops, and 200,000 Glory Army Cannon Fodder!
On the alliance side, the forces consist mainly of the Skeleton Corps, Jungle Corps, and Goblin Corps, along with two divisions of Weilante Expeditionary Army and the enterprise's 100 Mountain Division.
The disparity in forces seems significant, but if you exclude the 200,000 clone troops, the difference isn't much.
Plus, with air superiority and armor advantage on the alliance side, the Skeleton Corps' self-propelled guns sporadically fire two rounds of 155mm shells, while the Goblin Corps' W-3 nearly daily transports bombs into the industrial zone, leaving the defending forces in great distress.
Nevertheless, the defending forces in Lavanka Industrial Zone, under General Rubis's command, have held on for a whole month without showing any signs of collapse.
The attacking commander, Mole, couldn't help but marvel that they indeed ran into a tough opponent this time.
However, for some reason, this tough opponent didn't appear on Poluo line's battlefield, yet showed up when they entered the "demolition" phase.
This must be a truly loyal servant.
Just wonder if it's the last one...
On a gentle sand dune, Mole stands in the tank turret, holding binoculars to gaze at the sand fortress in the distance.
The legion built concrete bunkers on the reverse slope of the dune and deployed a large number of anti-tank guns, as well as Conqueror No.10 turrets, dismantled from unfinished productions.
Every anti-armor strongpoint is like a "reef" buried beneath the Desert Sea.
It must be said, that's a genius idea.
Not only did it solve Conqueror No. 10 turret's flying problem but also restricted the alliance's anti-vehicle railgun to some extent.
However, with a batch of new equipment codenamed "Wolf Spider" arriving, this siege is pretty much over.
Mole didn't wait long before seeing desert-colored eight-legged spider robots swiftly climbing to the base of each fortress.
This is Huge Rock Military Industry's latest product, also the culmination of Shelter No.100's self-developed technology!
The eight-legged "Wolf Spider" robot, improved from "Cross Spider," can carry up to 100 kilograms of combat units, navigate freely in tall tunnels, and use the tools on its foreleg to overcome obstacles, placing bombs skillfully where needed.
This thing is simply a fixed bunker killer!
If "Buprestis" engineering armor was born to construct, then this thing is specifically designed for demolition.
Didn't have to wait long before the roar of fighter jets breaking the sound barrier reached from the sky, followed by a barrage that poured down on the Weilante's frontline like a spray.
Rows of one-man high sand and dust rose into the air, making many soldiers sneeze, without taking a single head.
Regarding the alliance's air raids, the soldiers of the 111 ten thousand troops were long accustomed.
They skillfully lowered their bodies, pressing their helmets tight against the trench walls, patiently waiting for the airstrike to end.
At this moment, they didn't realize that the downpour from the sky was merely to press them back into cover, and this goal had clearly been achieved.
At the same time as they were avoiding the air raid, those truly deadly little spiders were moving their agile eight legs, like flowing sand, pouring into the bunkers connected by trenches and tunnels, directly heading towards the ammo racks hidden inside!
To facilitate the loading of anti-tank guns and the Conqueror turrets, although the ammo racks of these fixed weapons were separated by shells and explosives, they weren't usually placed too far away.
The internal structure of these bunkers was not beyond the expectations of those Intelligence System players operating the mechanical spiders, distributed in an "H" shape, with only a heavy iron door between the shells and explosives.
These iron doors were clearly factories from the Lavanka Industrial Zone, urgently processed using tank armor steel.
While these iron doors were more than sufficient to withstand the shockwaves of an explosion, they obviously couldn't stop the thousands of degrees high temperature of plasma cutter!
The mechanical spiders that infiltrated the bunkers quickly took care of the artillerymen distracted by the air raid and, before the soldiers outside noticed, flicked out plasma knives flashing with pale blue arcs from their nimble front limbs.
Accompanied by a buzzing sound, these "wolf spiders" cut through the connecting parts of the iron doors in just a few breaths, taking down the crudely made door panels entirely from the wall.
As the iron doors fell with a loud thud, the mechanical spiders slipped inside, used two mechanical limbs for a flurry of operations, and quickly completed the deployment of dynamite.
By the time the soldiers guarding the position finally snapped back to reality, dozens of kilograms of concentrated explosives had already been stuffed into their barrel-like positions, placed right under the ammo racks of the anti-tank fire support points!
"Boom—!"
The deafening explosion sounded almost simultaneously, with the fiery light of the explosion merging into the undulating desert, and the sand walls rising like a sudden sandstorm!
The boiling flames were not only contributed by the explosives themselves but also a significant portion from the sympathetic explosions of the ammo!
Watching the burning bunkers, the thousands leader standing at the frontline position had his eyes blood-red, his face a deathly gray, filled with despair.
On the opposite side, however, the Mole showed a victor's smile on his face.
"It's over."
As the words fell, he grabbed the walkie-talkie and issued the attack order.
"All units, advance forward!"
The communication channel came back with uniform responses—
"Received!"
At the same time the command was issued, hundreds of tanks from the Skeleton Corps simultaneously started their engines, sweeping across the land like a sandstorm, charging towards the position of the 111th ten thousand troops.
Besides the tanks, 300 Chimera armored cars with thousands of Weilante Expeditionary Army soldiers in the carriages also advanced forward!
Tracers as thick as pythons traversed the battlefield, pressing the soldiers of the Southern Legion struggling below the flames and smoke to the ground.
The position of the 111th ten thousand troops was instantly breached, followed by the corporate 100th mountain division attacking along the breach, quickly assaulting the flanks of the 112th and 113th ten thousand troops, completely bypassing the sharp edges of this barrel-like position!
The intense battle erupted instantaneously and almost simultaneously reached a fever pitch!
One second it was a silent desert, instantly transforming into boiling seawater, the fierce offensive blindsided the defending forces of Lavanka Industrial Zone.
Seeing the frontline position collapse, seven servant army ten thousand troops rapidly rushed forward, only to encounter the armored spearhead of the Skeleton Corps and the Weilante Expeditionary Army soldiers who followed the "Chimera" armored cars into the positions!
Facing the ferocious assault, the seven servant armies instantly transformed from fire-fighting vanguards into seven dwarfs, blasted by strafing mech cannons and overwhelming tank turrets into a panicked scramble.
As it turned out, the Weilante people were indeed born warriors, especially after replacing the inferior bullet-proof armor with the Alliance's "Type Five" exoskeletons, their combat power elevated another notch, second only to the fearless players!
However, the commanding General Rubis was indeed a ruthless person, certainly tougher than the Evernight Harbor garrison commander Stanford, stubbornly refusing to surrender.
Watching as the breach in the defensive zone gradually evolved into a total collapse, he didn't hesitate, directly filling the gap with his Personal Body Guard, while ordering the Glory Army to launch a suicidal charge towards the Alliance's positions, temporarily turning the tide by two-fold.
Still, relying on a mere two-fold advantage to rescue the Southern Legion's almost certain defeat was clearly unrealistic.
Under the relentless shelling of the Skeleton Corps' self-propelled guns and the Goblin Corps' air-dropped cluster bombs, twenty thousand clone soldiers burst into pieces like waves upon the shore before they had a chance to disperse.
The thick blood mist condensed into an impenetrable red wall, a gory scene that shocked everyone on the battlefield and led the already morale-near-collapse seven servant army ten thousand troops to capitulate.
After all, once the clone soldiers died, they would be the next cannon fodder.
While fighting for the Southern Legion, they were aware of their alien race identity.
As the seven servant army ten thousand troops surrendered, the remaining three regular army ten thousand troops gradually relinquished resistance, dropping their weapons and accepting the Alliance's capture.
Thus, the Southern Legion not only lost the logistics hub of Evernight Harbor, but their largest centralized industrial zone also completely fell into the hands of the Alliance.
Losing all southern strategic points, the downfall of the 2.7 million square kilometers of colonies was merely a matter of time.
Realizing the defeat was sealed, General Rubis said nothing, ordered surrender to his Personal Body Guard, and then pulled the trigger to end his life.
A total of 7 officers committed suicide alongside him, including his adjutant, staff, and Chief of the Guard.
Mole originally wanted to chat with the opponent he'd been entangled with for over half a month, but unexpectedly the guy had bid farewell.
"What a pity..."
After hearing the Expeditionary Army soldier's report, Mole on the turret expressed some regret, saying with somewhat wistful eyes.
"Even the staunch ones surrendered, yet a few normal ones remained loyal... He should have lived, played a role after the war."
Elena said with a subtle expression.
"Maybe he's tired, this kind of end isn't necessarily not a relief for him, at least he repaid the Southern Legion's kindness in his own way."
The Elf King Riches sighed and said.
"But I always feel that it would be better for the Southern Legion survivors if he gave up sooner, at least it would end their long-standing pain sooner."
Elena glanced at him.
"You're looking at the problem from God's perspective again."
Elf King Riches: "Is there a problem with that."
Old Na thought for a while, and unusually, she wasn't being ridiculous, instead saying something quite out of character.
"God can't solve any problems; that's the biggest problem."
Elf King Riches scratched his head, about to say something, when he noticed a group of dark-skinned individuals standing in the distance.
They were hefty in build, with protruding mouths, and their soybean-like eyes glowed with a bloodthirsty fierceness.
Elena squinted slightly and quickly recognized these folks as the special product of the Great Desert—the gray mutants!
Unlike the green mutants in Brocade River and the River Valley Province, these creatures had slightly higher intelligence and usually cooperated with human groups that had similar habits.
For example, slave traders and the Looter Tribe.
Both the Southern and Eastern Legions had the bad habit of employing these creatures.
A group of expeditionary soldiers surrounded them, guns aimed at their heads, while the latter also pointed their large-caliber weapons at the former, baring their teeth in a false show of strength.
The atmosphere between the two sides was tense, a standoff that could erupt into violence at any moment!
Mole reached out and patted the top of the turret, signaling the driver to move the tank forward, then stopping in front of the group of mutants, he looked at the leader and slightly lifted his chin.
"Who are you?"
The burly mutant looked up at Mole standing on the tank asking him, then glanced warily at the cannon under Mole.
"I am the clan leader of the Sad Wind Tribe, Wind Whisper."
Wind Whisper?
Mole looked at him curiously, finding the name quite poetic, and couldn't help but smile as he asked,
"Oh? Then what are you doing here."
"They are prisoners!" The leading lieutenant glared maliciously at the group of mutants, opening his mouth before the big guy, "They claimed to surrender, but right after we agreed, they refused to lay down their weapons."
"Prisoners? I'm no prisoner."
Wind Whisper chuckled mockingly and continued.
"We are General Rubis's mercenaries; now they've lost, our contract with them has ended. By the way, your war isn't over, right? Let's talk business."
"Business?" Mole raised an eyebrow, looking at him with a smile, "What do we have to talk about?"
Not realizing the grave danger he was in, the gray-skinned mutant thought the other party was asking about price and continued huffing.
"We can help the Weilante people fight, or we can help you fight. We don't want anything else, just give us a third of the prisoners you capture! If you can give us some Weilante women, even better; they can breed the most and aren't easy to break!"
The Weilante soldiers standing nearby glared at these beasts with murderous eyes, grinding their teeth.
Mole glanced twice at this beast, smiling as he asked.
"Sounds reasonable. Where is your tribe?"
Wind Whisper perked up upon hearing this and, without thinking, immediately replied with his unclear voice.
"Just a bit northeast, about 20 kilometers from here in an abandoned city area!"
Mole nodded, ignoring the guy's presence, and looked at Old Na on the side.
"Let's sweep that place up a bit later."
Elena smiled and said.
"Give it to the Jungle Corps; they're the professionals."
Wind Whisper froze for two seconds upon hearing that, his expression shifting from stunned to seething with rage.
By this moment, even if it might seem foolish, he finally realized these humans were up to something.
"You! You're an enemy of the Sad Wind Tribe! I'll tear you apart!"
Seeing the furious mutant lift his rifle barrel towards him, Mole sneered and slipped back into the turret, kicking the driver's seat.
"What is there to talk about with these things? Run them over for me!"
...
Bartoya Province, Yavente City.
The atmosphere of despair shrouded the entire settlement, making the already cold clouds and steel seem even more chilling.
The plague arrived before the war, and drugs, cigarettes, and canned goods became the most sought-after commodities, while the glory and dignity of the Vellante people seemed worthless at this moment.
An aura of sternness permeated the streets, making the few passers-by hurry even more.
Most of the shops have closed down.
It's not entirely due to the martial law; it's largely because there's simply nothing to sell on the shelves.
Two months have passed since the implementation of the "Decisive Mission" plan, and the situation of the Southern Legion hasn't improved at all, but has instead sunk into a deeper quagmire.
Factories and farms have lost their labor, and production lines have simultaneously lost raw materials and orders.
Most critically, the entire supply chain of society within the Southern Legion has been thoroughly damaged.
It's like riding a roller coaster.
Entering one cycle after another is not as simple as turning the car around.
Besides, even if there were time to turn around now... it would be too late.
Heavily armed soldiers marched down the streets in neat steps, but their shiny boots and bayonets couldn't bring any sense of security to those who remained.
Residents left in town shut their windows tightly and dared not let the curtains show even a slit.
People in every street and alley have fallen into confusion; they can't decide whether the ones wielding guns are their family or enemy, nor can they be sure that obtaining a permit to stay in the city was a good idea in the first place.
Then again, if not staying in the city, where else could they go?
At least there is still food in the city, whereas heading to the countryside might just turn them into someone else's meal.
As for crossing the Whirlpool Sea to the Vellante Province, that's equally challenging.
If they had set out early, there would still be a vehicle going there; now they truly have to rely on their legs to walk over.
Indeed.
The promise of "sending everyone to Triumph City to attend Marshal Julius's funeral" has once again been abandoned.
But no one is surprised.
After all, it's not the first time.
It's not only the residents of this city who are confused, but also the people who, like toy soldiers wound up, march with steps full of hesitation in their eyes.
What exactly is Teil doing?
What are the high-level members of the Southern Legion thinking?
Why was General Giulion's troops still advancing yesterday, but suddenly changed today?
Why have their enemies not collapsed yet, but instead they appear prematurely aged...?
At this moment, they no longer fantasize about the land under sunlight, but just wish time could reverse, back to long, long ago when none of this had happened.
Compared to the scorching Mantou Harbor, this place is indeed another extreme...
It's not just the people living in Yavente City who are anxious, but also those Ten Thousand Leaders riding the same chariot with Teil.
Although their cigarettes, canned meat, and liquor supply remained unaffected, and there was even some extra they could spare for girls who needed help, the battle situation rapidly deteriorated, and the pressure they bore was in no way less than the girls who needed help.
Total war and local wars are different; there's no such thing as surrendering half-way, apologizing, and paying compensation to end it.
The enemies weren't coming for money; they might not even want to negotiate and instead, aimed for their death!
Yavente City's temporary highest command.
In a conference room less than 20 square meters, the atmosphere was oppressive and heavy.
Until yesterday, they were still holding meetings in places with windows; today, they've moved into this windowless bunker.
The reason was an aircraft that roared over Yavente City.
Although no bombs were dropped from the plane, only leaflets stating "With a voucher, you can receive a boxed lunch and a bed" scattered, it still strained a lot of sensitive nerves.
The flames of war finally scorched close to their eyebrows, even the highest-ranking officers began to panic.
The only person still calm might be Teil himself.
The Minister of the Southern Legion's General Affairs Department swallowed, turned the notes in his hand, and broke the silent, oppressive atmosphere at the conference table with a trembling voice.
"I must say something... our production lines have stalled nearly completely, weapon stock can last only half a year at most. If production personnel isn't increased soon, we will be crushed by logistic pressure."
Words from the heart are always piercing.
He buried his head low as he spoke, dared not meet anyone's gaze, and prepared himself inwardly for the scolding he expected to receive.
In unexpected turn of events, instead of the colleague's scolding, what awaited him was a weary sigh.
It was from the Minister of the Department of Homeland Defense, a bureaucrat who recently became significant.
"Let's put production matters aside for now... Just yesterday, our Lavanka Industrial Zone fell."