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墨書 Inktalez
As they hurried to the front lines, the basic defensive structures were all made up of Trenches. The formations consisted of three layers of interconnected defenses, each with a Trench nearby. Soldiers lay in wait within the Trenches, silently ambushing the enemy and launching deadly assaults.
The booming sounds of gunfire echoed continuously, and the situation was under control. Each Trench was manned by a certain number of troops, while ahead, the Mecha Association's Mecha Master operated Sparrow Missiles, covering a large area. During the initial collective bombardment, many spiders perished right away. Hunters charged into the flames of battle with their private weapons, engaging in close combat, while any spiders that slipped through would be filtered out and eliminated by the Trenches.
After passing through three layers of Trenches, only a few spiders managed to escape. The forces stationed behind the Trenches were not insignificant either. Ramel Sergeant Major would lead the last remaining elite troops to hold the open ground, while Two-Star Hunter had his trusted One-Star Hunters, including Nicole, maintain a strict defense. After all, this was a battlefield where no oversight could be tolerated; even corpses on the ground had to be stepped on and crushed to ensure safety.
Good ran with his long knife trailing behind him, leaving a mark on the ground. This sensory training had not diminished Freyr's basic abilities; in fact, compared to his past self, he had improved slightly. Perhaps it was because he had spent enough time contemplating and resting that he now felt particularly energetic.
Although Good's strength had been weakened by the rules, his speed remained formidable—he was even a step and a half faster than Freyr. However, this small distance could not easily mask or compensate for past shortcomings.
Soon, they reached the recently established position where smoke filled the air and soldiers' shouts echoed frequently. Although it wasn't Freyr's first experience of war, the atmosphere here was far more intense than anything he had encountered in his previous life. Back then, soldiers had witnessed too much darkness and lost all hope for a turnaround. Their goal of repelling the Zerg was no longer driven by grand ideals—no thoughts of counterattacks or reclaiming lost lands; it was merely about holding onto their small corner.
They only thought about enduring one wave at a time. Even within the military camp at that time, there was no longer an atmosphere of serious training; survival became paramount. Even if it meant just surviving another day, they sought immediate pleasures. The soldiers lacked the iron-willed training attitude; they indulged in drinking and debauchery while officers wore frowns as military discipline eroded. More and more troops became mere decorations without combat effectiveness—a consequence of rare victories in battles during that period.
Even achieving ultimate victory in battles turned out to be inconsequential; such skirmishes did not contribute to strategic objectives or alter the overall situation but were merely futile expenditures of resources—still borne by the soldiers.
Hearing such shouts, along with the metallic clashing sounds and distant rumblings of Sparrow Missiles, a flicker of excitement ignited within Freyr.
As they reached the first defensive area, Good swung his black long knife down hard, embedding it directly into a spider's head. Nearby, two personal guards of Ramel Sergeant Major quickly stepped forward as Ramel exclaimed, "Thank you."
"No need to thank me," Good replied without looking back, tilting his head at a forty-five-degree angle until his heavy breathing calmed down before adding, "Where is Two-Star Lord Menekdar? I need to report to him."
Without hesitation, Ramel Sergeant Major responded immediately, "He was just here but has since gone to command at the second defensive Trench."
"Is that so? No wonder we haven't seen anyone. Let's hurry over; I hope the situation we just faced doesn't happen again. Increase vigilance; we absolutely cannot let a single one escape. The reproductive rate of these spiders is extremely high. In about a month, they will reach maturity, and a single brood can produce dozens of Larvae. After another month, their numbers may double, and they are quite formidable with an astonishing appetite. You should already know how terrifying they are without me having to spell it out for you. Be cautious." As he spoke, Good nodded towards Freyr, who had already started running in the direction indicated by the signpost.
The bodyguards flanking the Sergeant Major stood there dumbfounded, not daring to utter a word even when reprimanded. Although they were soldiers, Sergeant Major Ramiel had to constantly remind them not to ruin their faces, especially in front of the legendary hunter Menech.
In addition, there was an army responsible for guarding the perimeter. In such wild terrain, without well-equipped weapons and strategic cover, the soldiers in the field truly had little reliable shelter for combat operations. Losing this part of defensive protection meant that facing off against the Zerg with their protein-covered muscle and hard shells, along with sharp spears, would ultimately be unwise.
The fate of lambs led to slaughter was only to be picked off one by one by greedy wolves. The survival rate in field combat was indeed low; it was better to leave trivial matters to professionals.
Maintaining this balance of cooperation required silence. The greatest benefit for both sides would only be calculated after the battle ended. Even if economic entanglements arose then, they would still be maximized from the perspective of human economic gain. No one would underestimate this battle, and failing to maintain this cooperative relationship could lead to catastrophic consequences for their entire race.
"I will protect the Sergeant Major; don't worry. I only take orders from the Menech Family and am employed to protect the Two-Star Lord. However, if the lord wishes to spend extra money to protect Sergeant Major, I think that's quite worthwhile. With me here, nothing will happen." As he spoke, a man dressed in a Black Bodysuit emerged from the shadows. He had been completely unnoticed moments ago, moving without a sound; his sudden appearance made the atmosphere slightly awkward.
Good glanced at the somewhat youthful figure and said sternly, "Why didn't you act just now?"
That was indeed the situation; after witnessing Ramiel's bodyguards' ineptitude earlier, he shifted his focus onto this young assassin, his eyes nearly blazing with anger. If he hadn't intervened earlier, it's likely that the enemy's attack would have knocked Ramiel down on the spot—if he didn't die outright, he would certainly sustain serious injuries.
Such injuries for a senior officer like Sergeant Major could severely disrupt their overall strategy. It remained unclear whether the spider's actions were intentional or accidental; if they inadvertently succeeded in eliminating the highest commander, then the Military Department's combat forces would fall into a state of massive paralysis.
In a stalemate battle, even slight tactical errors from a commanding officer could lead to an immediate collapse of the overall situation. War is inherently unpredictable and ever-changing; even if a war god were present on-site, they could only outline a general plan for troops to follow step by step—predicting the outcome of war was nearly impossible.
A cold glint flashed on the blade as the young man swiftly cut down another spider that had been hiding for some time without even looking at it. He calmly stated, "There was no need for that. By the time I was ready to act after my observation ended, you had already made your move. It's that simple; otherwise, with my quick blade, any bug entering my line of sight within three meters must die."
The bodyguards nearby nodded repeatedly while Ramiel watched both of them with serious eyes.
"That's good."
Good could not argue further and replied calmly, "As long as it's war, there should be no mercy. I hope you remember that Ramiel's life is in your hands. Don't take it lightly. Once you've taken the money, you must be prepared to give your life; that's the code of your assassin profession."
"Exactly, whoever pays us, we serve them. It's a good deal for me, which is why I came to the front lines. Leave it to me," Young Assassin said with a smile.
Just as he turned to look back, the fierce man who had been standing there moments ago was gone. A streak of golden light was now swiftly making its way toward Position Two.
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