Chapter 65: Tactics
Under the cover of night, a 1,500-strong Vassal raiding force could already see the Sun Fortress in the distance by moonlight.
These Vassal soldiers lay prone on a dirt slope, gazing at the distant fortress.
The hundred-meter-tall fortress stood tall, with a row of searchlights fixed at its midsection, illuminating a large open area below to the brightness of day.
On the vast open ground before the fortress, on the already-marked ball field, a total of 24 bare-chested pig-headed men wearing thick cloth trousers stood ready on the field. A short pig-headed man stood at the center.
As the short pig-headed man tossed the ball into the air, the members of both teams charged toward each other. They didn't even glance at the ball; fists the size of sandbags hammered into each other's faces.
On both sides of the field, many Wild Boar Warriors and short pig-headed men had set up barbecue grills. With the head chef's special approval, barrels of ice-cold beer soaked in ice water were available for free.
Many Wild Boar Warriors held meat skewers in one hand and beer in the other, watching the ball game with great enjoyment. They shared one common trait: each wore a nameplate around their neck. The front of the nameplate displayed their name, age, and other information, while the back bore the Sun Seal emblem.
These Wild Boar Warriors appeared relaxed, but in reality, they weren't. They were all single men. Those with wives wouldn't be out enjoying themselves this late; they'd be busy working on producing the next generation.
On the distant dirt slope, after seeing the scene before the fortress, the Vassal soldiers lying prone were somewhat bewildered. In their impression, pig-headed men were dull, low-intelligence, standard lower beings. They sincerely felt that the Wild Boar Warriors they were seeing now were a completely different species from pig-headed men.
This 1,500-strong raiding force was the vanguard. They wouldn't act rashly. Once the main force arrived from the rear, they would engage the enemy in chaotic battle. At that point, these 1,500 carefully selected elite soldiers would pierce into the fortress like a sharp blade, seeking to maximize their chances of seizing the technology that transformed pig-headed men into Wild Boar Warriors.
The commander of this elite force was Major Ferg. This officer, once awarded a hero's medal, had lived a very unsatisfying life after the war ended. He didn't care about money, and he already had fame, yet he spent his days drinking himself into a stupor.
At this moment, Major Ferg, lying prone behind the dirt slope, had eyes that sparkled with vitality. The degenerate life of daily drinking made him feel like he was rotting. But two days ago, when he received orders to lead 1,500 elite soldiers in a raid on the enemy's lair, he felt himself "wake up." Warnings about the mission's danger and the need for caution sounded delightful to his ears. Everything around him seemed to regain its sense of reality again.
Major Ferg surveyed the area ahead. For some reason, a sudden unease stirred in his heart. After a moment's thought, he asked his adjutant, "How much longer until the main force arrives?"
"Woof."
"?"
Major Ferg was startled. He was a bit puzzled—why was his adjutant barking like a dog? It wasn't his adjutant's voice, and they hadn't brought any hunting dogs this time.
Before Major Ferg could figure out what was happening, a roar came from the distance.
Boom!
Rocks and debris flew from the distant mountain. A burst of golden-red flame appeared. Looking closely, one would realize this wasn't fire at all, but a massive beast over 10 meters long and about 4.7 meters tall. On its head was a nearly 4-meter-wide T-shaped ram, burning with golden-red flames—it was a Heavy Tank.
As the Heavy Tank charged out, hundreds of exits appeared on the mountain behind it, along with the fortress's main gate. Wild Boar Warriors poured out in a swarm.
Seeing this scene, Major Ferg on the high slope felt his head buzz. When he was a teenager, he had poked a hornet's nest, nearly dying from it. What he was witnessing now was strikingly similar to that stirred-up hornet's nest.
A wave of heat rushed toward him. Major Ferg dove to the side. The Heavy Tank's ram brushed past his body, crashing into the other Vassal soldiers behind him.
Thud, thud, thud...
Muffled impacts, crushing sounds, and screams followed in succession. Finally, after a deafening collision and explosion, everything fell silent for a few seconds.
Flames illuminated the darkness. Broken stones scattered like heavenly flowers, burning as they flew in all directions. The Heavy Tank shook its head, flinging off a Vassal soldier hanging from its side horn, whose lower body had been crushed, screaming in agony.
"ROAR!!"
The Heavy Tank bellowed, layers of fiery waves spreading with the soundwaves.
The surrounding Vassal soldiers didn't act rashly. They had heard of the enemy's war beast called the Heavy Tank, but seeing it in person was vastly different from hearing about it.
A figure leaped down from the Heavy Tank. It was a Wild Boar Warrior, about 2.26 meters tall—not particularly tall among Wild Boar Warriors. Compared to the other Wild Boar Warriors' burly builds, he was slightly leaner. It was Steel Fang.
Steel Fang jumped down from the Heavy Tank's back, scanned the gathered Vassal soldiers, and finally fixed his gaze on Major Ferg. The next moment, he charged in front of Major Ferg, swinging a war hammer with a handle 1.4 meters long and as thick as a bucket. The Solar Force imbued in it made the hammer appear golden.
Boom!
A golden-red flame exploded. In the scorching fire, Major Ferg blocked the descending hammer with one hand. His arm was a bluish-gray with a metallic sheen. The arm was unharmed, but Major Ferg's face was covered in burns, his hair singed. Yet he grinned, revealing cold, sharp teeth.
Dozens of flares shot into the sky, illuminating the area below as bright as day. The Vassal Alliance's main force reacted faster than could be described. The moment the vanguard was exposed and attacked, the rear main force immediately responded.
Over a hundred thousand Vassal soldiers were divided into over a dozen layers of defense. When the first layer engaged the enemy, the layers behind would flank from both sides, and those further back would do the same, gradually enveloping the enemy like a large net, steadily consuming them until the enemy surrendered or was wiped out.
Beyond these, there were other arrangements on the left and right flanks. After the battle began, Vassal units would also circle around to the enemy's base camp, disrupting their command structure by striking key buildings. If the opportunity arose, several infiltration teams skilled in stealth would attempt to assassinate the enemy leader.
In short, General Rez's arrangements for positional warfare, while not guaranteeing victory every time, at least gave the Vassal side a significant advantage at the start of the battle. Of course, this also depended on the enemy's deployment.
At this moment, in the Vassal command post, General Rez sat before a sand table. To his left, right, and behind stood his subordinate officers.
General Rez stared at the projection on the wall, showing real-time footage from the battlefield. Time was short, so he had only hastily set up the formation. In his view, compared to pre-arranged defensive lines, on-the-spot adaptability and the commanding officers' ability to direct and mobilize troops on the battlefield were the keys to determining the battle's outcome.
General Rez had studied the works of many military masters. Having fought wars for half his life, he felt no fear when facing the human race's famous generals. In fact, they were old rivals and "old friends"—they knew each other too well.
"Kukulin Bai Ye, what kind of opponent will you be?"
General Rez took a swig of strong liquor from his metal flask, his eyes fixed on the wall projection. Flares turned the vast Gobi Desert as bright as day. The Vassal soldiers, having set up their defensive lines, stood ready.
Suddenly, burly figures carrying long-handled heavy weapons charged in from the distance. General Rez's expression turned serious. The five male officers and one female officer behind him all stared intently at the wall projection.
Then they saw countless Wild Boar Warriors charging in a chaotic formation. Looking out, it was a vast, dark sea—simple and crude to the extreme.
"Uh, this..."
A gaunt, one-eyed officer was speechless. Compared to him, General Rez was far more experienced.
General Rez's face was ashen. Having interacted with Su Xiao and Kaisa, his current thought was: someone so resourceful, who could develop such a large force in complete secrecy, would let his warriors charge at the enemy in such a disorderly manner?
General Rez found this almost unbelievable. Then he thought, given the enemy's cunning, there must be a trick. With that in mind, he stared intently at the wall projection.
When the Wild Boar Warrior army slammed heavily into the Vassal's first defensive line, General Rez finally confirmed: the enemy had no tactics at all. They just charged up in that chaotic mess. Such a weak opponent made him, a veteran of war, feel a bit uncomfortable. This enemy was too pathetic.
But a minute later, General Rez's eyes grew wider and wider. His carefully arranged first defensive line had failed to stop the enemy's charge. That chaotic assault had punched right through it. Now the enemy was charging toward the second line.
"Ah, this!"
The one-eyed officer beside him pressed a hand to his head. He felt this battle was playing out like a damn dream.