Xiaofeng lay prone atop the armored vehicle, peering through the scope of his "Black Angel" sniper rifle at the breached city wall. The precision of his shot left all the snipers momentarily stunned—not merely a matter of marksmanship, but a testament to his unparalleled "sniper's intellect," exceeding all expectations.
Having witnessed Xiaofeng's prowess before, Ivy harbored no great surprise at the shot. Through her communicator, she issued a command: "Open fire at will. Target every exposed Alliance soldier. Suppress the heavy artillery atop the walls."
An incessant volley of sniper fire erupted. Though the heavy machine sniper rifles lacked the sonorous thunder of Xiaofeng's "Black Angel," their impact surpassed even the fierce crack of Ivy's "Bloodfiend." Bullets rained upon the city wall, felling scores of Alliance soldiers in an instant—especially those unfortunate souls stationed beside the artillery, who were swiftly suppressed into impotence.
Yet Ivy's sniper corps could not fully neutralize all the heavy weaponry. The cannons retaliated, and Brada's artillery battery, wielding far mightier cannons than those on the wall, opened fire in response.
Rice, cigar clenched between his teeth, barked orders: "All armored vehicles, prepare to charge! Minimize damage to the city's defense systems—we'll need those intact. Armed helicopters, lead the assault!"
Under cover from artillery and sniper fire, the armored vehicles and armed helicopters roared forward toward Black Whale City.
The helicopters' swift advance proved decisive. Bereft of air support and crippled by the loss of their command center, Black Whale City was incapable of deploying a single fighter jet. Without missile control, its air defenses lay in shambles.
Though individual infantry weapons could target the helicopters, the mech warriors suspended beneath them dealt devastating blows to any foot soldiers brave enough to engage.
One soldier raised a portable rocket launcher, aiming to lock on. Suddenly, a small missile streaked past him, detonating against the wall behind, shaking the battlements with a massive explosion that blew a crater in the ramparts.
The soldier was hurled ten meters down from the wall, landing with a grisly thud.
Under the protection of the mech warriors, the armed helicopters pierced the city's skies, deploying one mech after another atop the defenses.
The mechs rapidly entered combat mode, wielding oversized automatic rifles, unleashing a relentless barrage against the fortifications.
The Alliance soldiers were shaken to their core. Though familiar with mech technology in theory, facing them in person was demoralizing. Standard rifle fire barely scratched their armored hulls, and even grenades exploded harmlessly at their feet.
As the mechs clashed head-on with the defenders, the armored vehicle battalion reached the city walls. Their ferocious cannonade shattered the main gate, allowing the armored forces within to mount a counterattack.
Several armored vehicles in the vanguard were struck and erupted in violent flames.
Inside one blazing vehicle, the commander shouted over the inferno, "Request artillery support!"
Brada promptly adjusted his battery's aim. The cannons unleashed a synchronized salvo, decimating much of the armored battalion within the city. Armed helicopters swooped in to suppress the remaining armored vehicles.
Meanwhile, as the battle raged at the southern gate, other units stationed throughout the city grew restless. With no orders from the command center, they were uncertain whether to hold position or rush to reinforce.
All attempts to reestablish communication with headquarters met only with silence, as if the command center had become a dead well.
At an eastern camp, a one-eyed black commander scrutinized incoming footage—urgent distress signals from the southern garrison.
Frowning deeply, he pondered the audacity behind this sudden assault. Who possessed such formidable firepower, including mech infantry far surpassing anything in the Alliance arsenal? The command center was mute, Black Whale City's renowned air defenses dormant, and its fighter wings grounded. Most alarming, all radar systems had gone dark. What kind of force was this confronting them?
A junior officer saluted sharply. "Colonel, orders, please!"
"I cannot recklessly deploy troops—that would breach discipline. Dispatch a reconnaissance team to the command center for intel. Meanwhile, lead a tank battalion to the frontline. If questioned, call it a routine patrol."
"Yes, sir!" The junior officer left, both admiring and resenting his commander's cautious pragmatism. In such a critical moment, he felt the entire regiment should be mobilized to support the southern gate. One tank battalion's firepower was formidable, but against a force wielding armed helicopters, it stood little chance.
Armed helicopters—the mortal enemies of tanks.
This thought gnawed at the junior officer's mind.
Inevitably, his worst fears materialized within minutes.
As the tank battalion advanced from the eastern camp toward the southern gate, Mark's team detected their movement and relayed the intel to Rice, who ordered ten armed helicopters to lie in ambush.
The junior officer and his battalion thundered down a street, only to freeze in disbelief.
Unable to count the number of hostile helicopters before him, he sat tense in his tank, watching the monitor where the black war machines hovered like demons against the blue sky, tightening every nerve.
The scene was hauntingly surreal—an eerie tableau of impending doom.