This Game Is Too Real
Chapter 707: The Bottom Line for a Ceasefire is to Withdraw One Hundred Kilometers

Chapter 707: Chapter 707: The Bottom Line for a Ceasefire is to Withdraw One Hundred Kilometers

The battle at Kraba Market had ended. More than a thousand Gray Wolf Soldiers laid down their weapons and, with hands atop their heads, left the shelter.

Their faces were ash-stained, their expressions downcast, most with fresh wounds yet to scab over, and their dust-covered eyes lacked any hint of light.

If they had lost to the Alliance, they might have taken some consolation, but facing these militiamen who couldn’t even scrounge together a single intact outfit filled their hearts with nothing but shame.

The militiamen drove them from the northern side of Kraba Market to the east, forming a long line at the entrance of the market.

The onlooking survivors from a distance all simultaneously wore looks of disbelief upon their faces.

"...His Majesty’s army actually lost."

"That’s the undefeated Gray Wolf..."

"And they lost to the Moon people, no less."

In fact, it wasn’t just the Moon people.

It was simply that, in the Lowell Camp, the majority of slaves were from the Moon Clan, so naturally, this militia was composed mostly of Moon people.

Devoutly religious believers gazed blankly in the direction of Kraba Market, murmuring to themselves with moving lips.

"Great Tuo Ri Shen Niu above."

This time, it really looks like a changing of the heavens...

Watching the approaching militia, Chief Satish’s face was ashen. After struggling with himself, he finally handed over his service gun.

The radio had already been seized. Even if he continued to resist, it would have been utterly meaningless.

What he didn’t expect was that the man with bare arms, after taking his service gun, removed the magazine and threw the gun back to him.

"Run east."

Satish froze.

"What—"

He was about to ask what it meant when the man, without saying a second word, fired a shot at the ground in front of his boots. The jumping pebbles and dust gave him a start.

’Are you insane?!’

Satish stared at him with widening eyes, a silent question in his gaze, only to see that the man in front of him didn’t seem to be joking, forcing him to back away with two steps before breaking into a jog.

He ran from the center of the market all the way to the east side, unobstructed by anyone, until he saw the throng of disarmed captives packed at the eastern gate of the market.

What in the world were they up to?!

Satish’s heart was filled with panic. The uncertainty of what was about to happen seemed far more terrifying than the fate of being captured.

The group of "Gray Wolves" standing at the eastern gate of the market were also dumbfounded, clearly not expecting to be able to reunite with their superior after being captured.

The confusion among the men didn’t last long, as a man with an LD-47 rifle came before them, without a word aiming skyward and squeezing the trigger.

"Ratatat—!"

The captives crammed at the market gate were like startled birds, all jumping at the sudden burst of gunfire, instinctively retreating backward. The survivors watching from a distance were startled as well, quickly retreating back to their homes.

The man sneered at the group of captives, toying with them as if they were a bunch of bewildered sheep, brandishing the empty rifle and mimicking a "ratatat" sound with his mouth in a feigned attack.

Watching the terrified crowd continue to back away with shock, he crisply ejected the spent magazine, slotted in a fresh one, and with a click, chambered a new round.

The meaning behind that action was self-explanatory—

"This time it’s for real!"

No need for him to say a word, the panicking captives all turned around, fleeing away from the direction of Kraba Market.

Bullets whistling over their heads, the running captives had no time to think, not even a moment to see if the person beside them had fallen, merely scrambling away at the sound of gunfire from the scattered soldiers.

Meanwhile, standing in the center of Kraba Market, Laxi managed to contact Fang Chang, who was far off at the temporary command post by the port, through the headset hanging on his ear.

"Per your instructions, the captives are fleeing through the east gate toward the outskirts of the settlement, and I’ve dispatched a hundred-man team to follow them."

A prompt echo came over the communication channel.

"...Received, well done. I need you to take all the remaining men and standby in the north of the settlement. Our forces will join you there to support your attack."

Although the plan had deviated slightly, it was not without means of remedy.

Just seizing the captives’ weapons and letting them keep running would suffice.

Worst comes to worst, they would be recaptured once they ran back to their positions.

Laxi stated succinctly.

"Yes."

Despite the intelligence indicating the presence of a formidable ten thousand troops ready for battle there, he felt not a hint of fear or timidity.

Having already been through two battles, he knew very well who was invincible; it wasn’t the Gray Wolf Army, nor himself, but rather the "Iron Men" standing behind him.

As long as those Iron Men were still backing him, there was nothing to fear...

After the communication ended, he immediately called over his underling centurions, ordering them to take their respective commands and proceed toward the north of the settlement as planned.

The Alliance had provided them with more than just various light weapons and ammunition; they had also distributed communication devices down to the ten-man squads.

Because of this, even though this makeshift group of soldiers lacked battle experience, the communication barriers between various command levels had basically been broken through, with their rate of information exchange even slightly higher than that of the Gray Wolf Army, which only had radio equipment down to the hundred-man squads.

Even if sometimes the commands were not perfectly clear, it was just a matter of shouting them out louder a few times.

At least situations where a centurion could not find his ten-man squad or a thousand leader did not know where his hundred-man squads were would not occur.

With just this "cheat" alone, their starting point was already much stronger than many guerrilla teams, not to mention the automatic weapons that had come from the port...

At the same moment the First Corps of the Avengers Alliance was withdrawing from Kraba Market, in a three-story residential building south of the center of the market, a head was hiding behind a second-floor window, eyes peering nervously through the slit in the curtains.

Prince Dilipu sighed in relief as he saw the mob that had occupied the market beginning to withdraw, oblivious to the cold sweat that had soaked through his clothes.

It seemed Tuo Ri Shen Niu was still watching over him.

Though he had unluckily lost this battle, fortunately, these foolish traitors had not searched the entire market, but rather hastened somewhere else in a hurry.

Not just that, the cowardly Chief Satish had also not betrayed him, allowing his presence to remain concealed.

Perhaps...

He could take advantage of their departure and slip away unnoticed.

Neither the Alliance nor those false armies would even know he had been here...

Prince Dilipu cautiously moved away from the window and turned back, preparing to discuss the situation with a group of intensely attentive bodyguards in the room.

However, before he could speak, a sycophantic, ingratiating voice rose from downstairs.

"Yes, sir, right this way..."

...

North of Jinjaron Harbor.

At a frontline position less than one kilometer from the urban area, within an observation post covered with camouflage netting, Chief Manu was holding binoculars, watching with a heavy expression towards the direction of the distant city.

The bombardment of the settlement had stopped, and to cover the idiotic retreat, they had wasted nearly five hundred precious artillery shells. However, that silent city area was without a sound, not even a shadow of a person was seen.

His adjutant stood next to him, looking at him with a tense face.

"Prince Dilipu wouldn’t have run into trouble, would he?"

Manu gave a cold laugh and remained silent.

If that were really the case, it might even be for the best.

Compared to that, he was more heartbroken for the more than five thousand of his fellow tribesmen, brave young men who, if they were to die, should die for something meaningful.

Hopefully, more of them could manage to escape...

Just then, a series of figures suddenly appeared in the morning mist, running forward in a disheveled mess, with what seemed to be the sound of gunfire chasing after them.

Manu’s pupils narrowed, and he unconsciously leaned forward, his forefinger quickly adjusting the magnification of the binoculars to see further.

"It’s our people!"

A glimmer of surprise flashed across his face, but he quickly became alert again.

Something’s not right!

There were too many people breaking through!

Hundreds of possibilities flashed through his mind, yet no matter which one, he could not imagine the Alliance launching a counterattack on their position with less than a thousand soldiers.

That would be too fantastical!

The "Iron Fist" rocket launchers provided by the Army could even penetrate power armor!

Coupled with some field guns hidden in the positions and leveled 100mm howitzers, as well as machine gun fire, he was confident in stopping an armored force’s attack.

But even with ten thousand disbelief in his heart, he still prepared for the worst, grabbing the walkie-talkie from the radio next to him and howled.

"All units, attention! Prepare for battle!!"

The call for battle echoed through radios, and the shrill alarm bells went off over the ten or so kilometers wide position.

Battle orders trickled down from the thousand teams to the hundred teams, and the soldiers hidden in the anti-cannon holes rushed into the trenches in groups of ten.

Those heads with steel helmets looked like landmines buried in pits, with shiny bayonets hidden beside them.

But there was a problem here.

The trenches were dug too deep!

And it wasn’t just a section; each section close to the frontline along the entire ten or so kilometers wide battle line was too deep, with only a few slopes blasted out by artillery that could be climbed outside.

Even so, it was a close call.

Previously, these trenches were merely used as shelters to limit artillery damage, and no one ever considered that the people from the Alliance might break out from within Jinjaron Harbor.

And that’s why no one cared about this negligible issue and were quite satisfied with this looted trench.

Now, almost every Imperial soldier along the entire line was facing an awkward problem—

Even if they jumped up, they couldn’t see the people outside the trench, let alone aim their rifles and fire.

The machine guns and field guns were unaffected; their shelters had mostly been dug out personally by engineers.

It was for this reason that their positions covered with camouflage nets were specifically targeted by the Alliance support fire.

Almost at the same moment when the routed troops fled the city, a series of whooshing noises flew over the heads of the Gray Wolf soldiers in the trenches.

Deafening booms echoed through the position, and rampant shrapnel flew like a violent storm, swallowing several positions with gun flashes in an instant.

Watching the artillery barrage ahead, the routed troops escaping from the city were in utter despair, while the militia behind them were greatly encouraged.

They seemed to have seen in the flames the despair burning!

The thing they once feared was merely so weak and pathetic!

Laxi only felt as if a flame was burning in his chest, just as when he reached out to catch the handgun that was thrown into the crowd.

It was the flame of ambition!

The opportunity to make a name for himself in battle was right before his eyes!

He would become the new myth, and not just in the hearts of the Moon people.

Those "Iron Men" had even paved all the way for him, and all he had to do now was to charge forward—

He would defeat those who claimed to be invincible, the Gray Wolf!

"Charge with me!! Skin them! Tell those beasts who should stay in the cage!"

He bellowed with excitement, bloodshot eyes flashing, and fired his LD-47 rifle towards the front.

He looked like he was on a stimulant.

Under his command, nearly twenty thousand militiamen with white gauze wrapped around their arms charged towards the positions outside Jinjaron Harbor.

"Kill!!!"

The shout of killing shook the earth and blended with the clamorous sound of gunfire and artillery.

At the edge of the settlement, lying inside the "King Crab" all-terrain infantry armor, the prop-bearer looked with envy at the distant position under artillery fire.

"Damn, when can we also have a big one like this."

Corner old six answered next to him.

"Gathering so many players might be a bit difficult."

The prop bearer chuckled.

"Doesn’t have to be players, though."

Old Six paused and looked at him.

"Are you suicidal?"

As the two were chatting, the voice of Brother Fang Chang came through the communication channel.

"...What are you dawdling for? Our allies have already gone up; they need armored unit cover now, move it!"

The two immediately turned serious, responding in unison.

"Yes!"

At the same time as the temporary command issued the combat order, the dispersed Alliance forces north of the settlement also launched an attack.

Five "King Crab" armors charged towards the positions of the Gray Wolf Army with full force, advancing while firing. Dual 20mm cannons roared out long trails of tracer fire, targeting machine gun and field artillery positions one by one, each blast bringing a wave of death.

It wasn’t just the "King Crab"; the Alliance Soldiers following the "King Crab" were just as formidable. In terms of mobility, firepower, and defensive capabilities, they were orders of magnitude stronger than the Grey Wolf Army wielding the army’s obsolete equipment.

As for the soldiers themselves, that goes without saying.

Every person standing here was an Awakener of at least the second level!

The Grey Wolves buried in the trenches could only watch helplessly as their fire points were dismantled one by one without the cover of infantry, their rifles in hand as useless as sticks for poking a fire, unable even to threaten the charging crowds.

Some men struggled to climb out of the trenches, trying to counterattack with their Iron Fist Rocket Launchers, but the distance of nearly two hundred meters was clearly beyond the effective range of those devices.

An occasional rocket launched from the side of the trench didn’t seem to hit anything, but the men carrying the launchers became the focus of attention.

The concentrated gunfire pinned down the Grey Wolf Soldiers attempting to emerge from cover and return fire, while the continuous barrage of heavy artillery suppressed any supporting fire from gaining momentum.

Chief Manu, stationed in the observation post, had bloodshot eyes—half from anger, half from terror.

The Alliance’s armor was indeed terrifying, but there were only five of them!

As long as he could stop those charging Cannon Fodders, the Alliance’s force of less than a thousand soldiers couldn’t possibly break through his positions!

But what made him sweat with anxiety was that the soldiers in the distant trenches seemed as though their knees had been sawed off; each and every one of them kept their heads buried in the trenches and wouldn’t come out.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, he grabbed the walkie-talkie from the radio and bellowed at the Centurion commanding the battle at the front line,

"What are your men doing? Those bastards are almost charging into your faces, and you are still crouching in the trenches. Open fire!"

The roar of artillery and gunshots came through the radio, with the Centurion’s voice trembling slightly,

"Commander... my soldiers report that it’s not that they don’t want to fire, but the trenches are too deep, and they simply can’t see the outside."

Hearing this, Manu almost sprayed a mouthful of old blood on the radio and cursed loudly,

"Why the hell didn’t you say so earlier?!"

Now it was too late for anything.

The sound of cannons had ceased.

The Cannon Fodders who had burst out of the city were chasing the encircled and fleeing troops, having already reached the front line positions under his command.

Initially, fierce gunfire erupted between the two sides, but with several grenades exploding in the trenches, the Grey Wolf Soldiers, who couldn’t even raise their heads, quickly gave up the meaningless struggle. Under the shouts and jeers of the Cannon Fodders, they threw the useless rifles out from the trenches.

Cheers for victory echoed across the battlefield, a pity they were that of the enemy.

Like an avalanche, the collapsing defensive line fell just like dominoes, one trench after another seized by the unstoppable charge of the Cannon Fodders.

Manu’s eyes bulged, his face taut with veins, his lips turned paper white, and his hands shook with rage as he clutched the binoculars, nearly crushing the tube.

He witnessed it with his own eyes.

The pride of the Empire, with guns pointed at their heads, came out of the trenches in droves, their faces smeared with dirt and hands on their heads in surrender.

Humiliation...

It was an utter disgrace!

His troops were being captured en masse!

And by a hastily assembled mishmash of a Cannon Fodder brigade!

Never in the history of the Grey Wolf Army had there been such an outrageous incident!

Seeing that the situation was irretrievable, with no chance of turning the tables, Manu closed his eyes in despair.

At that moment, his adjutant burst into the observation post in a flurry, gasping for breath as he spoke.

"Sir, the soldiers of the Alliance are charging up! If we don’t leave now, it’ll be too late. Let’s retreat quickly!"

Manu opened his eyes, and in those cloudy pupils, there was no longer the spirited vigor of the past; it was as if he had suddenly aged decades.

"You go," he said to his anxious-faced adjutant with a trembling voice.

The adjutant was stunned for a moment.

"And you—"

Before he could finish asking, his respected superior had already drawn his sidearm, pointed it at his own chin, and responded with action.

"Bang—!"

Red and white splattered over the camouflage net that covered the observation post, along with the honors he had accumulated over the past forty years.

Althought losing in battle would not mean death, nor would being captured,

he no longer had the face to keep on living...

...

The battle outside the Gorgon Bay Settlement had completely ended.

During that time, the Grey Wolf Army in the rear had tried to launch several counterattacks, and had even deployed their only motorized units and modified vehicles, but they were nothing more than toys compared to the mechanized troops of the Alliance,

Strength-type players equipped with power armor or exoskeletons could even carry the 37mm "Heavy Cavalry Gun" and fire it standing up.

In this regard, although they lacked the size and defense of a tank, they weren’t much different from standard armored personnel carriers.

The "Chimera" wheeled armored personnel carriers of the Skeleton Corps had a cannon caliber of only 37mm as well, and even used the same ammunition.

After leaving behind nearly a thousand corpses, the troops that rushed to the front to reinforce were again forced to retreat in a sorry state, and thus a strange scene was presented on the battlefield—more than ten thousand men were chased by less than a thousand, up until the support artillery along the Everflow River shore began its bombardment, stopping the pursuit.

The artillery positions at the port fired a round of smoke at the front lines they had captured, covering the withdrawal in batches of the third and fourth hundred troops, as well as the militia led by Laxi, back to the settlement.

And what greeted them,

was the cheering of the local survivors.

"Damn... are we fighting in the City of Dawn or Gorgon Bay?!" The Lost Rookie’s face was filled with surprise, especially when he received a bunch of flowers from a young lady in a long dress; he almost instinctively reached for his wallet.

Most survivors living in the outskirts were poor without decent clothes, so to have clean clothing meant at least being a middle or upper-class citizen.

In other words, the survivors cheering their triumph weren’t just the poor folks paid off from the outskirts, but also those citizens who spontaneously came over.

Under normal circumstances, they would never freely leave their own habitats.

Apart from bouquets, there were wreaths and flower crowns, and even more exciting embraces and sudden surprise kisses, which the players found quite embarrassing.

The conservatism of people from different social strata here seemed to be entirely different. Seeing that the Iron Men seemed embarrassed to refuse, some enthusiastic girls became even bolder in their actions, with some even using the brief seconds of giving flowers or hugs to whisper their addresses...

The attitude towards the bandaged militiamen, however, was much more reserved. Whether it was due to familiarity, belief, or some unfavorable rumors, they were also enthusiastic but merely scattered petals toward them.

Laxi, walking among the militia, didn’t care in the slightest about the survivors’ "partiality."

As for "Iron Man worship," not one of the celebratory crowd could compete with him, after all, he knew better than anyone how this victory was won and who gave him his power.

The other militiamen felt the same, but it was those who had been slaves for a long time who were surprisingly touched by the thrown petals.

They vividly remembered how much they had been looked down upon by these people before, yet now, the eyes that looked at them were filled with fear and admiration.

This spiritual pleasure was better than any indulgence.

Not many had finished walking the path before their eyes, yet their hearts had already begun looking forward to the next battle...

In order to bask a bit longer in the adulation and cheers of the people and to share the joy of victory more with his subordinates, Laxi deliberately ordered his men to slow their pace.

However, for the nearly ten thousand captives caught in the midst of the troop, this undoubtedly prolonged their torment and suffering.

What people threw at them was not petals, but spit, mud and even sharp stones.

Their hands and feet were tied with a rope, making it impossible to dodge, even to raise their arms to block; they could only let a mess of objects hit their faces and chests.

Some fell to the ground, crashing down with groups of nine in disarray, then roughly dragged up again by the militiamen pressing on them.

Numbness, humiliation, and despair were etched on every face.

Especially when the survivors’ stones and mud hit them, in their hearts was not just anger, but also a sense of incomprehension and bewilderment.

Why should these people treat them this way?

They had clearly come at His Majesty’s command to rescue them...

Why couldn’t they be good people, instead of insisting on being the Alliance’s dogs?

...

Inside the temporary command center at the port.

Watching from the drone’s aerial view, those welcoming brothers were greeted by the old players with envy, jealousy, and hate.

Good lord!

They had coordinated and dispatched orders for half the day, only to have this bunch finish dressing up.

Had they known the other side was this weak, they would have joined the fight in their gear!

After staring at the screen in silence for a long time, Old White couldn’t help but speak up.

"Do these people have no sense of shame at all?"

Fang Chang responded succinctly.

"They don’t have the concept of a country, just like most survivor settlements in the Wasteland. Concepts too advanced for the people here are not just ’equality’ but many other things. This so-called Empire is really more like a slightly larger area, a slightly more populous Brown farmstead."

After all, this is not any country or region in the real world; analyzing it with real-world experience is like saying, "Watermelons are round, bananas and watermelons are both fruits," therefore concluding, "Bananas must also be round."

According to the official Forum’s public setting, before entering the Prosperity Epoch, this planet had already lost traditional boundaries and achieved a union of civilization ranges.

Instead of an Empire that imitates the Army’s practice of ethnic nationalism, it’s more like a theocracy that borrowed some outdated teaching materials as the bible from the Prosperity Epoch and some theories from the Weilante People.

Clearly, the rulers here are a bunch of "astute" fellows. They have collected the original text of "Animal World," refined and repackaged it, and thus created "Thousand Tribes and Thousand Gods," a theory that is a mix of everything.

In name, the gods protect Poluo Province, but in reality, what’s tied to the totem poles are iron chains. What has protected Poluo Province for two hundred years is not some "Animal World" but a natural mountain range and a desert left by war, perhaps with some odd trinkets left by the first-generation survivors.

As per Mrs. Han’s research, Tuo Ri Shen Niu was not always the chief of gods; before that, it seems there was a Moon God akin to the Silver Moon Goddess in the god lineage of Luo Xia Province. This is also the direct cause of the fall of the Moon people from the pyramid’s apex, becoming "untouchables."

With that as a given, expecting the survivors of Jinjaron Harbor to offer loyalty to the emperor like the survivors of the City of Dawn is unrealistic; they are essentially a flock of well-tamed sheep. From the first time he saw Laxi, Fang Chang was clear that these people would only wag their tails at those who appeared stronger and bare their teeth at those who seemed weaker.

Not to mention that the bombardment of the city by the Grey Wolf Army to cover the retreat of allies had completely pushed the local survivors to the opposition.

Now that the defeated dogs had been stripped of their equipment, it would be a miracle if the locals showed any goodwill towards them.

Old White shook his head.

Not wanting to dwell on such complex matters, he got straight to the point.

"The reinforcements from Tiandu have been crushed, and all three phases of the battle plan have been completed. What’s next?"

This war was really boring, especially when he saw from the drone footage that a division of the enemy was being chased around by just two of their platoons.

In the River Valley Province, the Looters could fight far better than them.

Fang Chang said in a mild tone.

"One surprise isn’t enough, but three consecutive unexpected outcomes, I believe, are enough to wake that arrogant local emperor up... unless he doesn’t want to lose all of his elites in a gamble he can’t possibly win."

The victory they achieved could only be described as exhilarating.

It even exceeded his expectations.

Apart from the 1,241 killed in battle, almost ten thousand men surrendered, and the entire ten-thousand troop of the Gray Wolf Army was captured!

Some were even captured twice in one day, once in the Kraba market within the settlement, and again at the positions outside the settlement.

In addition to the captured men, all the weapons, ammunition, and supplies left in the positions were taken back by the militia of the First Corps of the Avengers Alliance.

And what couldn’t be taken was set on fire and burned.

After this battle, the Gray Wolf Army had completely lost its ability to continue the offensive on Jijaron Harbor. And the lifeline of Witch Xi Lan was now firmly in their grasp.

As for Prince Dilipu, he turned out to be an unexpected bonus.

"Just don’t let there be another surprise," Old White said in a relaxed tone, making a joke. "Those guys never play by the rules."

Fang Chang smiled confidently and responded.

"Impossible. It’s clear that Witch is an amateur in all fields, but there’s one area where he excels. Now, this defeat is not merely a military and diplomatic crisis for him, but a political issue concerning royal authority."

Perhaps taking the opportunity to go up the Everflow River against the current and strike Tiandu in a single move would be a good idea, and the Empire might just collapse as a result.

But he had to seriously consider the warning from the Manager—do not escalate the situation on purpose.

If the Empire were to fall apart, turning Poluo Province into a battleground of warring tribes, not only would the Army take the opportunity to expand their influence in the area, but some dirty things would also take advantage of the chaos to enter. If the aftermath couldn’t be cleaned up, the Alliance would also lose the favor of some neutral forces.

Clearly, it was a loss that wasn’t worth the gain.

The emperor might not understand this, but their "vassals," the esteemed Managers, certainly had to.

Moreover, even if they had the ability to breach the Empire, they had to consider the predatory Army, the ongoing "Conclave of Unifying Nations," and the Torch, which is brewing a world-class threat.

Just as everyone was shifting the conversation from the battle itself to post-war reconstruction and whether to run the Survivor’s Daily here, the radio at headquarters suddenly received a strange telegram.

Fang Chang took the telegram and quickly glanced at it, then smiled and passed it to Old White.

"See what I said?"

Reaching for the telegram, Old White hadn’t even looked at the content when he caught a glimpse of the title and almost burst into laughter.

"Imperial Ceasefire Notice to the Alliance"

"That witch really cares about saving face."

But Fang Chang indifferently took the telegram back.

"No matter, establishing the ceasefire line is the priority. Jinjaron Harbor and its surrounding area are already under our control."

"As for apologies and compensation, those can be discussed slowly; it doesn’t matter if we can’t agree, as it’s convenient for us to foster local forces and reconstruction."

Having said that, he looked at the NPC communications officer who had brought the telegram and gave instructions.

"Reply to them."

"Retreating a hundred kilometers is the bottom line for the ceasefire!"