Chapter 727.2: We Will Brign Glory Back To Dawn City And Death To Our Enemies!
Chapter 727.2: We Will Brign Glory Back To Dawn City And Death To Our Enemies!
The railway stretched for 1,500 kilometers. The military train departing from Dawn City crossed plains and jungles alike, twisting and turning until it finally reached the frontier of Brocade Lake Municipality.
Layer upon layer of mountain ranges had already appeared in the distance.
Beyond those mountains, turning right would lead to the Death Coast, while turning left would lead to the vibrant Baiyue Province. Passing through endless forests and mountains, one could even travel all the way to the picturesque French Fry Harbor and behold the swaying thighs of life itself... Or rather, the beautiful and sparkling ocean.
The brothers of the Burning Corps sure had it good...
Holding a grilled sausage purchased in Horseman Town, Eye Owe Money gazed out the window and couldn't help but yawn. The travel time was honestly getting a little ridiculous. "How much longer do we have?"
"Should be soon," Construction Boy replied after checking both the map and the scenery outside. Stroking his chin, he continued, "Once we cross the Guardian River, we'll reach Ten Peaks Mountain. Beyond that is the 40 kilometers long White Bone Road, and after that lies the Torch Church's nest."
According to the legends, the 40 kilometer long stretch had not originally been called White Bone Road. It had once been known as Snow Peak Road.
Only later, after a group of cannibalistic Mutant Humans settled there and established their strongholds in the mountains, did survivors begin calling the snow-covered peaks Blood Peaks and the white snow blanketing the roads with bleached bones.
In short, Ten Peaks Mountain concealed numerous Mutant Human strongholds.
And according to the Torch Church's usual methods, they had likely allied themselves with those freaks and armed them using technology from the Prosperity Era. For example, assisting them with breeding programs, creating cybernetics usable by Mutant Humans, biotic armor, and similar monstrosities.
No matter how much they looked down on the enemy strategically, they had to take them seriously on a tactical level. Otherwise, they would pay dearly for it.
Eye Owe Money sighed. "My babies are starving. If they don't get food soon, they're going to revolt."
The player sitting beside him, Midnight Umbrella, leaned over with a grin. "Aren't they your wives?"
Eye Owe Money rolled his eyes and waved his sausage skewer like he was swatting flies. "Get lost."
South of Horseman Town lay nothing but desolate wilderness. Only after reaching the deepest reaches of that wasteland did the members of the Death Corps finally spot signs of human habitation.
It was the base camp of the Southern Construction Corps, as well as the true southern terminus of the railway.
The composition of the force was extraordinarily mixed. There were volunteer survivors, members of the Iron Tower organization, and criminals undergoing labor reform.
At the beginning of the year, the New Alliance had launched a major crackdown on the slums outside Boulder Town, deploying troops to completely eradicate the gangs hiding there. Those captured were sent to labor camps near the mines of Bluestone County for training and reform before being organized into penal battalions and dispatched to the front lines against the Tide.
Their courageous performance during the Tide campaign earned the respect of Boulder Town’s militia.
After the Tide ended, the administrator transferred the survivors into the Southern Construction Corps. Together with other criminals still undergoing reform, they were sent to the Brocade River Province to build roads and railways in preparation for the coming war against the delusional Kingdom of Heaven.
After six full months of effort, the nearly 4,000-man construction corps had not only completed the railway across the wasteland, but had also built a massive military base north of the Guardian River capable of housing 100,000 troops.
They had furthermore dug extensive trench networks, machine-gun bunkers, and numerous defensive fortifications.
Naturally, the enemy to the south had no intention of watching the New Alliance peacefully build roads and dig trenches.
Every few days, they would gather Mutant Human forces, cross the Guardian River, and launch raids against the Southern Construction Corps.
Just two months ago, a 1,000-strong Mutant Human unit had attacked! The green-skinned creatures wielding clubs and rifles looked like a disorganized mob, but when battle began, their skills were no joke.
Even the weakest Mutant Human possessed physical strength far exceeding that of ordinary survivors. Even after having their hearts blown apart, they could continue fighting through sheer murderous instinct and sometimes even regenerate fatal wounds.
To truly kill one, you had to smash its skull into pieces and spread its brains across the ground—or use a 19mm explosive rifle round to obliterate the entire left side of its chest so thoroughly that the flesh couldn't regenerate before it bled out.
A construction corps of fewer than four thousand men had no realistic chance of defeating Mutant Humans on its own.
Even with sturdy fortifications and powerful fixed weapons, it would still be a brutal bloodbath.
Fortunately, the New Alliance had not truly abandoned them in the wilderness. When the attack came, more than 300 players active in the surrounding area received emergency missions and rushed to assist.
With a combat style even more fearless than the Mutant Humans themselves, those players eventually routed the invaders alongside allied forces, though at the cost of nearly being wiped out to the last man.
That battle had hurt the Mutant Human tribes deeply. For the next two months, no major offensives occurred and they carried out only small-scale harassment attacks.
Clearly, the Mutant Humans were not truly fearless. When confronted by enemies even more ruthless than themselves, they too felt hesitation, fear, and the urge to retreat.
However, there was another possibility.
Perhaps they weren't afraid at all. Perhaps they had merely realized that this was a particularly tough bone to chew and had decided to secretly gather strength, waiting for the perfect moment to unleash something big...
Just as the peaks of Ten Peaks Mountain entered the players' field of view, the smoke-belching military train likewise entered the sight of the green-skinned creatures on the mountain.
Bloodthirst and savagery instantly filled their bell-sized eyes.
With a loud howl, green heads began emerging from caves and crevices all across the mountainside. A massive mutant over three meters tall strode to the front of the gathering horde.
Its face was hideous and terrifying. A tattered banner hung from its back, while a crude shotgun resembling a club rested in its hand. Armor-like steel plates covered its heavily muscled shoulders. Most striking were its legs. From the knees down, both calves and feet had been transformed into mechanical beast limbs, with blade-like claws protruding outward like daggers.
Its name was Gary, a 1,000-man commander of the Stonehorn Tribe.
On Ten Peaks Mountain, any creature who possessed a name was either a cunning old fox or an exceptionally dangerous killer.
"Train! New Alliance train!" Grey let out an excited roar and raised its shotgun overhead.
"Big mean toys inside! Torch Church told us... Smash it! Burn it! Kill everyone! Loot everything!"
The bare-chested underlings erupted into excited cheers.
"AWATGGEE!"
War cries echoed across the mountaintops like beating war drums.
Within moments, a loose force of roughly 1,000 Mutant Humans had assembled.
Besides the large and powerful green-skinned Mutant Humans, there were also tiny creatures barely reaching a normal mutant's knees, swarming alongside them in huge numbers.
Those were Mutant Humans as well! Even their DNA differed very little from that of the green-skinned Mutant Humans. Yet their hunched, diminutive bodies bordered on deformity. Simply looking at them made it difficult to associate them with Mutant Humans at all.
Since the natural reproduction rate of Mutant Humans was still too slow, the Torch Church had used biotechnology to redesign portions of their genetic expression.
The result was the new hunchbacked breed, created at the cost of a dramatically shortened lifespan.
Unlike purebred Mutant Humans, those smaller creatures matured and reproduced at astonishing speed. A litter could be produced within five or six months, and each birth often yielded three or four offspring.
Although they lacked the terrifying regenerative abilities and physical prowess of true Mutant Humans, and aged rapidly while reproducing in rather gruesome ways, they could generate substantial fighting forces through sheer numbers in a short time.
Players active in the south of the Brocade River Province referred to them as Goblins, distinguishing them from the "classic skin" green Mutant Humans.
The developers of Wasteland Online had eventually adopted the term and officially added it to the game's setting guide.
In truth, even the Mutant Humans themselves refused to acknowledge those weaklings as fellow Mutant Humans. Most referred to them simply as "little runts" or "ugly things."
Because of their underdeveloped brains, they were often even more foolish than regular Mutant Humans, their behavior resembling animals.
To the Mutant Humans, they were little more than dogs.
On the other hand, their smaller bodies were better suited for traversing mountainous terrain, and their nimble fingers made them useful for errands and tasks such as hauling artillery ropes. In some ways, they were no less useful than the disposable clone cannon fodder carefully engineered by the Wislanders.
The Mutant Humans of Ten Peaks Mountain tolerated these little creatures in their lairs precisely because they were useful and carried very little meat on their bones.
As the horde of green-skinned Mutant Humans surged down the mountainside, none of them noticed the plump rat hiding behind a rock, watching them intently.
A VM was strapped around his belly like a belt. He had been tracking them for days, even before the Death Corps had departed.
"Hey, hey, hey! This is Make Me speaking. The Mutant Humans on Ten Peaks Mountain are moving downhill! They spotted you from miles away and are probably heading straight for you!"
"Haha, then they've picked the wrong target!" a hearty voice replied through the communications channel.
The person who replied was Sideline Slacking, commander of the Death Corps.
Judging from his tone, he was already itching for a fight.
Offering half a second of silence for the Mutant Humans marching downhill, Make Me continued, "Garbage is already waiting at the foot of the mountain and ready to link up with you. He says he wants to show off a little, though honestly I don't think you're lacking in manpower."
Sideline Slacking laughed. "How could we? We'd be happy to have him! But tell him not to rush in yet. Have him stand a little farther away."
Make Me blinked. "Why?"
Sideline Slacking chuckled, "We got our hands on two big beauties from the Wislanders. The administrator let us use them against the freaks! The caliber's even bigger than the guns on the Heart of Steel. My boys have never seen anything like them before and they've been begging to fire one. Might as well test it on those poor suckers coming down the mountain."
"Holy crap, the 902mm super-heavy cannon?!" Make Me smacked his lips in surprise. "You brought that on your first operation?"
"What else are we supposed to do? Leave it around until it lays eggs?"
"Hahaha! Alright, I'll tell Garbage not to charge in yet..." After ending the call, Make Me scratched at his VM screen with a sharp claw and tried contacting Garbage.
There was no response.
"That's weird." Scratching his head, he looked down the mountain but couldn't spot the guy anywhere.
What the hell is that dog doing?
As he wondered where Garbage had gone, a certain giant lizard was currently lying hidden in a reed bed south of the Guardian River.
His amber eyes remained fixed upon the green-skinned Mutant Humans swimming across the river. Only his nostrils protruded above the water, creating faint ripples.
As for his VM?
That annoying thing had been discarded on the riverbank long ago.
Although the Guardian River was over 100 meters wide, it wasn't especially deep. The deepest point in the center channel measured only three or four meters, while the reed-filled shallows near the banks were merely one or two meters deep.
The current wasn't particularly strong either.
Crossing it wasn't difficult.
The towering Mutant Humans, standing two or three meters tall, could simply hold their weapons overhead and wade across.
Only the goblins seemed inconvenienced, having to paddle makeshift rafts or let the larger Mutant Humans carry them.
Just as the Mutant Humans were about to reach the far bank and Garbage prepared to ambush them, a deafening boom suddenly erupted in the distance. It sounded like thunder exploding across a clear sky.
Though it came from several kilometers away, the shockwave visibly rippled across the river's calm surface.
Garbage froze the second he heard it. Like the Mutant Humans standing in the river, he stared blankly toward the source of the sound.
"... What the hell is that?"
A sense of foreboding quietly crept into his heart.
At the same moment, the military train had come to a stop midway along the tracks. The smoke drifting above the 902mm super-heavy cannon slowly dispersed.
Riding atop a Deathclaw, Sideline Slacking leapt from the train first. Raising his 20mm-caliber cavalry lance, he roared at the fully prepared brothers around him.
"Brothers, follow me! We will bring glory back to Dawn City and bring death to our enemies!"
A thunderous roar exploded around the train.
Whether they were players riding Deathclaws or the Deathclaws carrying those players, all of them let out deafening roars the moment the cannon fired.
"For the New Alliance!"
"Long live the administrator!"
"Crush them!"
"RARGHHHHHHHH!"