CHAPTER 853: CHAPTER 853: EXPANSION PACK UPDATE! "SOUTHERN BARBARIANS’ INVASION"!

"Fire!!"

Just as the survivors at Jinjaron Harbor were stirred by the Army’s invasion, the cannons hidden in the forests at the southwestern border of Dog State and Lion State unleashed a deafening roar at the same time.

A rain of fire filled the sky, crashing heavily onto the ground, engulfing the battlefield thirty kilometers away in a blaze of fire and smoke.

These were the 155mm cannons sold by the Alliance to the Mammoth Nation.

At this moment, there were as many as twenty-four cannons deployed at the front line, forming a full battalion-level fire group!

The cannons fired continuously, delivering twelve rounds of concentrated fire.

The coordinates of the bombardment were located within Lion State, right on the position the Poluo Country’s first ten thousand troops had just withdrawn from.

Though it was Poluo Country’s territory, the Southern Legion had already broken the truce, and the Moon Clan Resistance Army didn’t care about so much anymore.

With these twelve rounds of firepower, the assault of the Army’s 172nd thousand team finally stalled, suppressed in the trenches left by the first ten thousand troops of Poluo Country.

Having surged over 300 kilometers like a raging storm, the Army’s offensive finally experienced a halt.

And this was probably the biggest and most direct resistance faced by the Southern Legion’s front-line troops since they landed until now.

Standing next to a group of artillerymen, "Wolf of Battle" was sitting beside a tree stump, "meditating" with his eyes closed.

After receiving a message offline from Dog Brother from the front lines, he immediately went online, opened his eyes, and greeted the battalion commander next to him.

"Time to retreat!"

The response from the Southern Legion was swift.

While the mobile units advanced, they still managed to complete the deployment of artillery positions methodically.

Although that iron airship was currently pinned near West Sail Port, it was not the only support weapon of the Southern Legion.

According to the intelligence gathered by Dog Brother, the enemy artillery units were ready to counter-fire, and it wouldn’t take long before correcting shots came their way.

The battalion commander, who had been enthusiastically overseeing his men loading and firing, received a bucket of cold water from the warning of his Alliance brother, and his expression immediately turned serious.

"Got it!"

Without any hesitation, he held the radio and immediately issued the order to retreat.

Soldiers wearing exoskeletons immediately stepped forward to pack up the cannon mounts, skillfully hooking them to the back of light trucks.

This set of actions had been drilled countless times and practiced in countless engagements with the Grey Wolf Army.

In less than a minute, the entire position was packed, and trucks towing the cannons quickly withdrew along the pre-prepared paths.

Not long after they had just left, thunderous explosions erupted not far behind their heads.

A corrected shell first landed in the forest.

Soon after, within less than half a minute, waves of fire rain, even fiercer than before, began to cover the area.

The explosions and shrapnel tore through the forest, leaving ancient towering trees shredded.

Watching the shaking forest behind them, some soldiers on the trucks couldn’t help but show a trace of lingering fear on their faces.

The reaction speed of this Southern Legion was much faster than that of the Grey Wolf Army. When fighting guerrillas with Arai Yang’s troops, they even had time to have a smoke before leaving.

But not here, not even a chance for a smoke.

If they were late by even ten seconds, they might have lost a leg in the forest.

"Did we hit them just now? Did the enemy suffer a lot?"

Sitting on the truck, the battalion commander showed no fear, only eagerly looked at the Alliance brother, asking with a hopeful expression.

Wolf of Battle glanced at the VM, which showed no signal for now, and calmly replied.

"Our scouts are confirming, no rush."

Actually, offline, he had already confirmed the result of the bombardment.

The previous round of firepower indeed hurt the Army badly, and the ongoing counter-attack likely had some frustrated intent behind it.

However, his United Human language wasn’t very good, making explanations cumbersome, so he didn’t bother explaining.

The battalion commander didn’t press further, only turning his gaze towards the tumultuous forest behind.

The booming artillery had been going on for some time, with no sign of stopping.

Apparently, the Army’s preparation was indeed thorough, as if it intended to blow up the entire mountain.

But this also indicated that their strategic target had been achieved.

Even before the battle began, Laxi had already instructed the front lines that combat units at all levels should not be confined to the battle line, but instead, use long-range firepower and terrain to hinder the enemy’s offensive whenever possible.

The brothers of Poluo Country had proven that positional warfare couldn’t stop the Army’s advance.

They had to replace the original solid lines with more flexible ones, spreading small drum units over a wider depth, and then pouncing and taking a savage bite when the enemy’s main force penetrated deep into the heartland, whittling down their living force through repeated pulls.

The artillery noise behind them was still loud, but it had gradually receded in the ears of the people.

They will head to the next position and await the next order from the division headquarters.

A teenage soldier, about fourteen years old, muttered with his head down, clutching his rifle.

"By the way, just how many Vellante people landed this time?"

He was a new recruit who enlisted a few months ago, and also a local from the Northern Three States.

Previously, when the little emperor came, he had been conscripted to build the palace.

Later, when the Moon Clan Resistance Army attacked, the little emperor fled with a group of nobles, tails between their legs, leaving him with nowhere to go.

Afterward, a young man about his age found him, stuffed an LD-47 into his hand, and told him if he couldn’t find where home was, he might as well join the Resistance Army. Here, he’d not only get meals but also lands, so he joined.

Next to him sat an older soldier, slightly senior but only in his early twenties, who thought for a moment before speaking.

"According to our formation, about thirty divisions."

Thirty divisions...

Hearing that number, many sitting in the truck couldn’t help but gulp, even some seasoned veteran soldiers of the Resistance Army couldn’t help but grimace.

They had thought their numbers were sufficient, but hadn’t expected the opponent had plenty as well.

The Mammoth Nation currently only had ten divisions’ worth of troops, with five deployed at the frontline, while the other five were rushing from the rear.

Nearby, although the Poluo Country had over a hundred divisions, more than half were just for show, with a million troops unable to assemble even for the equipment needs of 100,000.

Moreover, these guys faced a significant issue—that was re-equipping the troops.

Though the rifles from the Army and Alliance shared a 7mm caliber, ultimately they weren’t the same kind of ammunition.

Even the gray uniforms were distributed to only one-third of the troops, and the remaining two-thirds essentially resembled a ragtag army.

Even with the Alliance’s support, this was still a battle marked by overwhelming disparity.

A new recruit couldn’t help but mutter under his breath.

"... Can we win?"

The warrior wolf intended to speak the truth, fearing it might be a bit challenging. Even the Alliance had never engaged directly with a unified Army, and it was hard to say how much of a chance the fractured Poluo Province had.

This was purely from a rational analysis.

Just because they won once in an artillery battle couldn’t completely turn the tide of the entire war.

With the war barely starting a day, the Southern Legion had already seized the whole northwest coastal line of Lion State, pushing the frontline near Sulak County.

If the Alliance were to fight this campaign, the advance speed probably wouldn’t be faster than theirs.

Yet, before he could voice his concerns, the battalion commander beside him placed a hand firmly on the new recruit’s shoulder.

"We will win!"

That voice was resolute, just like his unwavering eyes.

His gaze seemed to surpass the present, already envisioning a future filled with light and beauty.

He believed without doubt.

The warrior wolf sitting beside looked slightly bewildered.

He didn’t know where this guy’s confidence came from, but was unexpectedly surprised to find that this group of scattered soldiers had somehow developed faith.

This bunch of uneducated, theory-less guys had managed to inspire belief!

It was truly incredible...

Like many new players in the Alliance, he had once looked down on the Moon Clan Resistance Army, thinking that these guys without any guidance or theoretical foundation, at best could become a mountain king, merely lucky if they could resist the Grey Wolf Army.

But now he found, perhaps it was his arrogance and prejudice, thinking "thoughts are not absolute" equals "absolutely no thoughts."

The Alliance wasn’t built in a day either.

When the Pioneer passed by Qingquan City years ago, they were as insignificant as ants by the roadside.

Seeing surrounding eyes secretly glancing his way, the warrior wolf stayed silent for a long time, before showing a faint smile and saying the most fluent sentence he had in recent times.

"Don’t ask such pointless questions..."

"A beast might just have sharper teeth... if that could guarantee a win, we’d still be sitting in trees."

At this amusing metaphor, the truck cabin filled with pleasant laughter.

Many Moon Clan soldiers were amused by this Alliance brother, faces breaking into smiles.

Especially the artillery battalion commander laughed heartily, the cigarette he held dropped from his lips.

Whereas the thirteen-year-old boy looked puzzled, unable to fathom, stared at the Alliance brother and asked.

"Why sitting in trees?"

In his understanding, Alliance brothers were the most learned, respected across the military from squad leaders to division leaders, who attentively considered their advice.

Looking at the kid who should have been in classrooms studying, the warrior wolf grinned, flaunting a bit of the knowledge he had.

"There are many theories about the origin of humans, and one of them is that humans evolved from monkeys."

The kid’s eyes widened.

"But I’m a Dog Tribe person..."

"That has nothing to do with what you believe in. It’s that... thing called science, right?" The captain, who had just put the cigarette back in his mouth, chimed in with a smile.

He had a fellow townsman who had been to the North Island of the Southern sea area, and that’s where he heard the term science from.

This thing is quite remarkable. It’s said that the survivors of the Southern sea area rely on something called science to live more comfortably on a small patch of Land than they do on vast plains here, where a piece of clothing costs more than a life.

And that was after they went bankrupt.

Before bankruptcy, it’s said the people there were several times wealthier than now.

The battle-hardened wolf: "Strictly speaking, it should be considered a hypothesis, right? After all, no one’s witnessed the past firsthand. I don’t understand this stuff, it’s better to ask your teacher when you get back to School."

The young boy nodded, half understanding, then curiously asked.

"Then... why did we come down from the trees? Wouldn’t it be better to stay up there?"

The battle-hardened wolf laughed heartily and said.

"That’s a long story; it goes back even before the Prosperity Epoch... even further than the Classic Era..."

...

The sunset sank into the sea, and the sky filled with dark clouds finally poured down heavy rain.

The pitter-patter of raindrops fell into the muddy trenches, where a shallow puddle cradled an arm left by someone.

Without paying attention, a Weilante soldier stumbled over that severed arm as he crossed the trench, almost eating mud, but fortunately, the Centurion beside him grabbed his collar and pulled him up.

"Watch your step, if that were a landmine, you’d be dead."

It’s said the Alliance has artillery-fired landmines, and deploying those isn’t very difficult.

The soldier swallowed a gulp of rainwater-mixed saliva, looking down with shame.

"Yes..."

Peter glanced at the recruit without saying anything, just casting his gaze toward the wrecked Battlefield ahead.

Previously, this was the position of the Poluo Country, and their troops had just retreated, and their allied 172nd thousand team had just filled in.

However, shortly after, artillery shells came crashing down from the northeastern mountain forest area, more than twenty 155-mm cannons, firing a full twelve rounds of volleys.

According to allied reports, a hundred-strong team was right in the center of the barrage, and they lost contact once the second wave of shelling began. They hoped the nearby 171st thousand team would send a force to check on their troops.

The 17th ten thousand troops advanced too quickly, attacked from the air in the rear, so much support has not yet caught up, forcing them to switch from advancing to consolidating their current position.

The brothers of the 172nd thousand team couldn’t leave their positions, relying only on friendly forces within the same ten thousand troops.

This unlucky hundred-strong team got bombed, Peter heard they were counting up the junk seized from the Poluo Country army position when suddenly they found themselves hit hard, named by the artillery on the other side.

The artillery coverage was so swift and decisive, probably meaning some Moon Clan Resistance Army reconnaissance team nearby reported the information.

Upon discovering enemy artillery fire and the wireless signal directing the bombardment, the 17th ten thousand troops immediately deployed their artillery unit. However, before their counter-bombardment could begin, the enemy had already ceased fire, likely relocated.

These guys are as cunning as rats; he had to admit they underestimated them.

But correcting it now wasn’t too late.

Once Peter rejoined the team, he was immediately assigned a new task to go to the allied position that was under attack.

They needed to both confirm the allied situation and cooperate with the surviving allies to flush out the enemy’s eyes.

"Damn it..."

Looking at the ruined Battlefield, Peter cursed under his breath but gave a signal to his teammates, braving it as they searched forward.

The rain poured harder, with gusts of wind making the search increasingly difficult.

Especially when they had to be cautious of their surroundings, they might not be the only ones active nearby.

Mammoth Nation’s scouts might be around, and the Poluo Country soldiers might return for the equipment left on the positions, charging back upon hearing the cannon fire.

That was why the 172nd thousand team dared not move recklessly; they must be extra careful until the airship returned to the frontline.

As he approached an Anti-cannon hole, ready to peer inside, a rifle suddenly aimed at his head.

"Don’t move!"

In the darkness, he saw a fierce eye, while the other was clouded with blood.

Noticing the high nose bridge, Peter released his grip on his rifle, indicating no harm.

"I’m one of you."

Before he said anything, the man in the shadows apparently recognized his identity too, lowering the gun aimed at his forehead, spitting bloody saliva onto the ground.

"Damn it... I just noticed, which unit are you from?"

"A hundred team under the 171st thousand team." Peter only then realized the agitated guy is a Centurion, with a rank one grade higher than his own.

"171?" The Centurion paused for a moment, frowning as he muttered, "What about our own people?"

Peter spoke concisely.

"They can’t focus on you for now, and have entrusted us to check on your situation... How many of you are left?"

The Centurion curled his lips.

"The casualties aren’t too heavy... nine dead and quite a number injured, around ten or so. The sanitary conditions here are too poor, and it’s raining. I’m afraid they won’t hold out much longer."

Really only nine dead?

Peter glanced at him suspiciously, doubting if he had really confirmed it, but did not press further, and immediately said.

"Let them go to the nearby farm. We have established a base of operations there, and have medical personnel. When the rear transport team arrives, they can be sent to the back."

The Centurion’s eyes lit up upon hearing this and he agreed without hesitation.

"Alright! I’ll leave them to you then!"

"What about you?"

Seeing the Centurion seemingly not planning to retreat from here, Peter instinctively asked.

The Centurion’s eyes flashed with a hint of fierceness, and he spat out his words through gritted teeth.

"...Those bastards blew up my brothers, can’t let it go like this."

Friendly casualties are just one aspect; the other is a huge loss of face.

The earlier artillery strike might well account for the entire day’s casualties of the ten thousand troops being taken on by their squad.

If this can’t be avenged, he would have no face to remain a Centurion!

Peter wanted to persuade him to calm down a bit, but he reckoned this guy wouldn’t listen to the opinion of a mere Centurion.

"...You better be careful, I have a feeling the Alliance people might be coming."

"Hah, it’s perfect timing!" The Centurion smirked, patted Peter’s shoulder, "The wounded are in the anti-cannon hole... they’re in your hands now."

After speaking, he crawled out of the trench under the pouring rain and shouted at the position.

"Those who can still move get up with me! These damn bastards are finally done with their shit, come follow me and deal with them!"

"Oh, oh, oh!"

"Fight them to the end!!"

High-spirited roars spread across the position, soldiers clad in bullet-proof armor and exoskeletons climbed out of the trench one after another, and fiercely gathered northward.

The high-spirited roars soared through the torrential rain, drifting towards the fields nearby.

Lying in the fields, "Dog Conduit" had a disappointed expression as he retracted the small drone hovering in the sky, and shut off the VM screen emitting a faint glow.

"Damn, what a pity..."

The earlier artillery strike probably only killed twenty or thirty people; on average, it took five shells to kill one person, which was somewhat wasteful.

If only there were artillery nearby.

Judging by the route those big-nosed ones were taking, they planned to continue north. If another salvo could be launched at this time, it might wipe out this hundred-man team in one go.

But the artillery camp hidden in the mountains had already relocated; all he could do now was watch.

He carefully climbed out of the fields, Dog Brother cautiously avoiding the murderous Weilante soldiers, and sneaked towards Sulak County.

Earlier it seemed a thousand-team arrived there, he planned to scout over there before going offline to see what the situation was...

...

While the Southern Legion’s frontline troops were being bombed, swearing in another world, the "Wasteland OL" official website was bubbling with festival-like excitement.

It just goes to show, people’s grief and happiness are not shared.

Unlike the Weilante and Poluo people waiting in torment, for the "Wasteland OL" players, even before the fight started, they couldn’t wait to "encourage peace."

Months prior, several big names on the forum had analyzed that an accidental clash was almost inevitable.

And now, the restless Army indeed as they predicted, Dog Planner’s big knife finally couldn’t restrain itself!

[DLC Update: "Southern Invasion"]

[Description: The Southern Legion supports the false Emperor Akbar Xilan to reconstruct the Xilan King’s Court and launches an armed invasion of the Poluo Province Survivor Forces in the name of the false Xilan regime!

This isn’t just a provocation to the Wasteland’s peace and order, but also a betrayal to the ancient pact! The Alliance survivors will not allow the Army to expand east of the Great Desert in any form, if they enter the battlefield under the guise of mercenaries, then we’ll show them the volunteers’ strength!]

[Joining method: Sign up as a volunteer on VM and head to the frontline; it will be considered participating in the DLC event. DLC missions will be received through VM.]

[Event rewards: In addition to rewards for completing tasks, accumulating points can be exchanged for more rewards after the DLC ends, detailed content coming soon.]

[Risk warning: This event area has few save points, and the situation is extremely complex, requiring players who sign up to have a Sequence Level of at least LV10 and over 3000 Contribution Points.]

[Currently signed up players: 27,155 people!]