Chapter 601: First Battle
"For the tribe! Charge!"
"For freedom!"
"For the Federation!"
"May the Holy Light be with you..."
Invaders and invaded clashed in a fierce battle on a boundless, vast plain.
The various races of Mars fought for their tribes, the vanguard Sinner Legion for their freedom, the Federal Guard in the rear for the Federation they pledged loyalty to, and the priests in the last row for their faith—people with different pursuits all fought together.
Alas, at this moment, courage held no value.
The tribal coalition hastily assembled on Mars possessed valor in vain, for neither their high-end powerhouses nor their low-level soldiers held any advantage.
Disregarding the criminals who had dispersed and hidden after the first wave of assault, the Federal Guard, with overwhelming heavy firepower and air support, utterly overwhelmed the opposition; it felt very much like muskets and cannons arrayed against primitives.
"Bang!"
Subtle sounds, almost imperceptible amidst the noisy battlefield.
On the front lines, the Federation's Gauss sniper rifles suddenly delivered greetings from their electromagnetic cannons to any enemy daring to show their head.
The Martian races, accustomed to cold weapon combat, were utterly defenseless, save for a very small number of monstrous individuals possessing special talents.
"Attention! The enemy has optically invisible assassins! Activate Spirit Sight mode!"
"Received!"
Only after discovering that communications from several squads had been cut off did the frontline commander realize there was a problem, and he quickly ordered a switch to anti-stealth mode.
"Battery Eight, five o'clock direction, seven hundred meters, fire!"
"Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!"
A volley of high-explosive shells later, the two invisible assassins, whose movements had been accurately predicted, were instantly reduced to dust scattered by the wind.
"These fellows are far easier to deal with than the Sea Race," an old sergeant-major remarked with emotion.
Although the average individual combat power of Martian lifeforms significantly surpassed that of the Sea Race, the Sea Race had always possessed the ocean as a super-nauseating turtle shell. Most of humanity's firepower projection proved meaningless against it, preventing their most crucial technological advantage from being fully utilized.
Now, however, on the Martian land, with no seawater to obstruct them, all types of heavy firepower could be used normally, and the Federation's absolute advantage in military technology became apparent.
...
Compared to the rapid rout of the ground-level soldiers, the high-level aerial battle was a back-and-forth affair. Of course, this was only because, apart from Li Shunsheng's true body, everyone else had merely dispatched avatars or projections to slack off.
From the Moon fortress to the Martian ground, it was nearly twenty thousand kilometers, resulting in a time lag of almost one-tenth of a second between projections and their true bodies. In high-level combat, one-tenth of a second was quite a significant amount of time.
Not only were the projections slacking off, but even Li Shunsheng himself was pretending to fight fiercely, dragging his feet. His most powerful temporal distortion ability never appeared; he merely used his fists and feet to block the opponent's attacks.
In his view, temporal leverage consumed lifespan. Burning away his life for the Federation's benefit would be too great a loss; it was better to maintain this superficial stalemate and let others exert effort.
The battle looked exceptionally intense; the energy dispersed from their clashing attacks alone heated the air around the battlefield from its original minus fifty degrees Celsius to nearly zero degrees.
The result was a spectacle of dazzling effects, but not a single speck of tangible achievement.
The outcome of such pervasive slacking off was well within the expectations of those with ulterior motives. Without first sending projections repeatedly as scouting cannon fodder to uncover all of the enemies' trump cards, they would certainly not risk themselves.
Everyone knew they would win, but it would surely come at a price.
Yet no one was willing to be that "price," to pave the way for others.
...
"Retreat!" After a prolonged battle, several Martian behemoths also realized their enemies were disunited. However, given the disparity in the number of high-tier powerhouses and the utterly one-sided battle below, they could only choose to sound the retreat first.
"Have the Federal Guard cease their pursuit; they are personally covering the retreat of the defeated forces."
"What about the Sinner Legion? They're nothing but undisciplined stragglers."
"They'll come back on their own. This is Mars; without supplies from the Moon, not a single individual below the Fourth Tier will survive."
"Since the landing operation has succeeded, relay the order to the air-based deployment center to deploy the first batch of mobile base vehicles. We shall proceed by grand and open means, crushing them head-on with sheer productivity."
The Spirit Energy Cultivators and mage/wizard factions were rather unwilling to personally enter the fray. Martial artists and knights, who could improve themselves in intense combat, were eager to eliminate the enemy in one fell swoop, but they lacked command authority, so if they wanted to participate, they would have to do so on their own.
Divine Path Cultivators, on the other hand, were even more afraid of death than wizards, each suggesting a steady advance, relying on the Federal Guard, not themselves, to slowly bleed the enemy dry.
...
"Strange, how is it that the architectural aesthetic on Mars is somewhat similar to Earth's?" A member of a small team, currently accompanying Bai Mo's avatar and having penetrated deep into Mars' interior, wondered aloud as he gazed at a small Martian town from afar.
While the rearguard action of several Six Tiers monsters managed to intercept the Federal Guard's main force, it could not stop the Sinner Legion, who were professionals in adventuring and looting, infiltrating by breaking up into scattered units.
Their yearning for freedom and their greed for spiritual materials drove them to become the first batch of scouting cannon fodder.
The Federation had promised them upon their departure: if they survived the war, those with prison sentences under ten years would be completely pardoned, and those with sentences of ten years or more would receive a ten-year reduction.
The condition of surviving the war seemed simple, but just by serving as the first wave of charging cannon fodder, absorbing the enemy's most thoroughly prepared defensive attack, the Sinner Legion's death rate approached five percent.
Moreover, the Federation used supply points to tightly control the lifeblood of the vast majority.
This was Mars: no food, no water, no medicine. All lifeforms were alien, and scavenging as they went was unrealistic. They could only obediently return to the military camp, preparing to be the vanguard cannon fodder for the second engagement, otherwise, they would be reduced to eating Martian soil.
Only a select few high-tier members of the Sinner Legion, those capable of escaping the constraints of food and drink, possessed the ability to survive long-term in the alien wilderness.
...
"Their writing also bears some resemblance to the ancient Huaxia characters."
"But it's scrawled and distorted; many characters have changed shape."
"There's no way it's just a coincidence, right?"
Many present could recognize that these square characters shared innumerable connections with Huaxia script, yet there was an indescribable awkwardness about them.
"Could it be that this damned Mars also has transmigrators from Earth?" someone couldn't help but joke.
At this moment, Bai Mo, too lazy to speculate, had already activated his Sky Net ability.
"These characters were copied from a city far away that has a protective shield. And the source of all kinds of cultural radiation points to that very city?"
PS: My sincerest apologies, I've had too many things these past two days and was forced to delay a bit.
Comments