Chapter 706.1: The Crazy Gray Wolf Army |
Ample Time’s concerns were not unfounded.
The premise of encircling a point to lure and annihilate reinforcements was that the trapped defenders still retained at least a shred of will to resist.
And for the nearly 3,000 soldiers surrounded in Kalaba Market, whether they still possessed any will to flight was clearly an open question.
That said, capturing someone from the royal family of the Xilande Empire wasn’t even Ample Time’s main goal. He had much bigger plans.
…
Rowell Camp.
Wearing an exoskeleton, Peepo found Laxi sitting on an ammunition crate, fiddling with an LD-47. He got straight to the point.
“We got work to do.”
Setting the newly acquired toy aside, Laxi sprang up from the ammo crate and bowed his head. “Awaiting orders, sir.”
He paused, then continued, “Even so, you can’t afford to be careless. I don’t want a pack of drowning dogs suddenly regaining their confidence mid-fight. You’ll do this exactly as we say, step by step. First, surround the market. Then apply pressure from the east, south, west, and north, forcing the encircled force to attempt a breakout…”
His finger tapped the map again, and he paused briefly before going on. “… We assess they won’t go north directly. East and west are both viable choices. To reduce uncertainty, we need you to apply heavier pressure from the west and conduct some feints, so they’re more likely to choose the east as their primary breakout direction.”
Laxi frowned in confusion. “Why let them go? I can capture them all for you.”
Peepo replied patiently, “This concerns the second phase of the plan. We want to intercept them during their retreat, driving some of the routed troops toward the positions outside the settlement, and then, while the division outside moves in to support, wipe out both the escapees and the support division together.”
It was essentially a variation of encircling a point to draw in reinforcements.
After deploying a division into the forward trenches, Alyang, stationed outside the settlement, had made no further moves, apparently intending to let the routed troops inside the city organize their own breakout, while the reinforcements focused on cover and support.
It seemed General Alyang had no intention of sacrificing more soldiers for the foolish offensive, which further confirmed that the attack itself had been an accident.
It was much like the unit that had attempted the beach landing at French Fry Harbor.
Surprise flickered across Laxi’s face, partly at the New Alliance brothers’ plan itself, and partly at their appetite.
That was a full division, and one of the Xilande Empire’s most elite trump cards at that!
Yet there was no trace of fear on his face. After a brief moment of thought, he asked a question that was largely irrelevant to the plan, but which genuinely intrigued him.
“If you’re letting them escape, why not just let them go north? Isn’t that closer?”
Peepo froze for a moment, giving him a strange look before countering, “If it were you, would you run straight north?”
Laxi froze as well.
Why wouldn’t he?
Ignoring the bewildered look on his face, Peepo glanced at the sky and continued briskly. “Night’s coming. We judge they’ll choose to rest overnight, hold their ground, and attempt a breakout at dawn, that’s usually when vigilance is lowest, and the best time to break out. That’s the plan. If anything changes, we’ll notify you. For now, we need you to act immediately.”
A glint of ferocity flashed in Laxi’s eyes. He reached for the rifle resting beside the ammo crate and nodded solemnly. “Leave it to me.”
Watching Laxi turn toward the camp’s broadcast station, Peepo suddenly remembered something and called out, “Wait.”
Laxi stopped and turned back. “Anything else?”
Peepo pointed at the tablet in his hands. “There are a few people on that list we want alive. As for everyone else, if anyone surrenders, keep them alive if possible. Remember, living captives are worth more than dead ones.”
Laxi inclined his head slightly.
“Understood.”
…
Kalaba Market.
That was the largest marketplace in Port Gallon, located at the very center of the northern district. It consisted of hundreds, if not thousands, of shops and stalls, surrounded by neat rows of square residential houses.
On ordinary days, these stalls were filled with brightly colored foods, spices, textiles, trinkets, tethered livestock, and even scrap electronics and mechanical clocks shipped in from elsewhere.
Not only the poor and ordinary citizens came here to buy daily necessities, wealthy merchants and minor nobles in fine clothes would also drop by on a whim, hunting for curiosities or bargains from the ignorant.
It was no exaggeration to say that as long as it existed in the Xilande Empire, whether cheap red clay or toys from Ideal City, given enough time, one could find it here.
Normally, the market bustled from dawn until sunset, and today was no exception. The only difference was that the once lively crowd of hawkers and shoppers had turned into a mass of fleeing Wolffolk.
“Stop! What are you doing?! This is my house, you can’t, ahh, it hurts!” A man in his thirties was dragged by the arm and thrown out of his door by a soldier, chased into the street along with his two disheveled wives and six children.
Judging by their clothes and appearance, their status wasn’t high, but they were certainly no peasants.
To a group of routed soldiers fresh from defeat, however, that distinction meant nothing.
Ignoring the man’s furious protests, the soldier raised his PU-9 submachine gun and jammed the muzzle against the man’s forehead, shouting, “This is not your house! Now! Leave immediately, unless you want trouble!”
The icy touch made his heart plunge into an abyss. His limbs went numb, his lips trembled, and no words came out.
In another house nearby, an old woman clung desperately to a soldier’s leg, begging pitifully, only to be kicked back inside.
Moments later, a burst of gunfire rang out, and a squad of soldiers carrying a machine gun stepped over the blood-soaked threshold.
The man was utterly terrified. Warmth spread down his pant legs and pooled on the ground.
Casting a glance at the man who had wet himself in fear, Prince Dilip couldn’t even be bothered to speak. He stepped straight over the threshold and into the house. A guard behind him grabbed the man by the collar, shoved him to the ground, and coldly tossed out a single line.
“This is for your own good, get lost!”
The man didn’t dare linger. Scrambling to his feet, he didn’t even bother brushing off the dust, dragging his family away in haste.
The entire market was in chaos. Ash-covered residents were shoved out of their homes without even time to pack their belongings.
Crowds gathered in confusion on a muddy road two streets away from Kalaba Market, staring at unfamiliar surroundings, unsure what to do.
Panicked mothers ran about searching for lost children. Well-dressed men hesitantly knocked on nearby doors, asking for shelter for the night. Some unfastened buttons for a piece of bread hard enough to crack teeth…
Children separated from their families curled up crying. Devout believers clasped their hands in prayer. Others sat on the ground, muttering in despair.
“What are we supposed to do?”
“How long are they going to stay…” a dirt-smeared man murmured, “If they don’t leave, do we just wait here forever?”
An old man beside him sighed, his face full of sorrow. “… We can only wait.”
At that moment, everyone’s fate seemed temporarily the same, no matter what label they carried.
As the streets gradually merged into the dusk, some rocked children in their arms and hummed softly, others joined in singing. Some closed their eyes, savoring that fleeting moment of calm and equality, weaving a song amid the chaos…
In truth, they were still relatively lucky.
Most of the soldiers here were tasting defeat for the first time, and still regarded them as subjects of the empire. If they suffered a few more losses, who knew what would happen.
The routed troops retreating to Kalaba Market finally completed their defensive setup before dusk, and by then gunfire was already echoing from all directions.