Hence it is said: “If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles.” This excerpt, salvaged from Old Earth, comes from a renowned ancient military textbook and remains an integral part of modern combat doctrine. However, it has a continuation.
“If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat,” it states.
“Hmm… the eruption has stopped but…”
It had been two hours since then. Through suppressive retreats, artillery fire, and tank main gun counterattacks, we managed to scatter an army of nearly ten thousand. The enemy’s movements have ceased.
However, we can’t read their next moves.
Were we in their place, with satellite attacks disabled, we’d fortify and wait. Most nations would adopt a similar counterstrategy, making attack planning easier for us. But this mad army, driven by a deranged code,—we can’t predict their movements.
If they’ve merely spewed everything they can and stopped, that’s fine. But if they’re unexpectedly cunning and shift to fortified combat, we’ll have brutal melee battles ahead. Or, if they’re using the time to mass-produce Nosferatus inside, we must launch a swift offensive to seize the facility.
The enemy is utterly deranged, leaving us in a frustrating “we practically know nothing!” situation, making this engagement very difficult.
“Nozomu, the remaining enemies have been wiped out.”
“The enemy scattered brilliantly!”
Two hours after using artillery to obliterate the terrain, the cavalry, riding wolf-like creatures, returned after scouring the battlefield of any remaining foes. But seeing them drenched in white blood reminded me anew: The artificial blood of these anomalous beings, with their high efficiency, shares a common root with us.
Still, the Tech Gobs, while bleeding white, retain their rationality and intelligence.
What creates this difference? More data and case studies are needed. We still don’t fully understand the intentions of the entities turning planets into their playthings like this.
“Wait… You say they scattered?”
“Yeah, completely lost coordination, like a disorganized herd.”
“I’ve fired at all of them!”
Falken proudly waved his coil gun. But this isn’t good.
Dispersing forces is a common strategy to minimize casualties. For a poorly disciplined army, this could mean losing command. However, given the coordinated behavior reminiscent of eusocial organisms, it’s more likely they have learned that clustering would make them perfect targets for precise artillery bombardments—choosing instead to disperse strategically to preserve strength.
The enemy is in fortified combat mode. That means they have the intelligence to activate self-defense protocols. It’s becoming quite troublesome.
I glared at the horizon where the “Development Base No. 5689” jutted out, exposed by tectonic activity. The buildings resembled hastily stacked candy boxes, a result of connecting modular units optimized for efficiency. Inside, however, the layout is deliberately complex, designed to make attacks difficult, turning invaders into easy prey should anyone rush in blindly.
I don’t know why it’s exposed on the surface, but attacking head-on would be disastrous.
Worst case, they’ll seal the passages with bulkheads and inject fast-drying hardening agents.
“Perhaps tunnel warfare is the best choice then.”
“Correct, Captain.”
Alright. Straight assault tactics are out. Here’s where underhanded maneuvers work best. Since the structure is exposed, we’d be foolish not to take advantage of it.
“All units, board! Advance while maintaining vigilance!!”
“What about the artillery positions?”
“Half remain behind, and the rest move forward. Just in case, we need to prepare for surprise attacks.”
Given the enemy has shown intelligence, we must proceed cautiously. Artillery support will make a big difference in emergencies, so I wanted half the artillery left in place, especially since mortars are easy to relocate. A mechanized wolf can easily lift them with its secondary arms, or even carry them in the tandem seat. Their stability is higher when placed on the ground, though models like the “Light Mortar Wolf” exist.
“Infantry, prepare your shields!!”
At my command, Sylvanians and Tech Gobs, equipped with exoskeletons and their multiple manipulator arms, carried physical shields designed to protect their flanks. These shields, similar to the ones I struggled with at the Canopy Holy Capital, consisted of two layers of armor separated by an impact-absorbing mechanism. The edges were sealed with dampers and sealing materials, filled with a gel that hardens temporarily when impacted.
Theoretically, they can withstand up to 10,000 joules without trouble—though without an exoskeleton, your arms would likely give out—rendering the Nosferatu’s 3,300 joule small arms fire ineffective at this range.
[Hurry up! Hurry up!]
[These are heavy; I don’t like them!]
[Don’t complain! If we die, the little god and the god’s companion will grieve!]
Bounding around with their trademark agility, the Sylvanians carried two shields each, while the Tech Gobs carried one to keep their vital areas covered for reloading purposes. These nuances reflect each race’s unique traits, interesting even in the midst of combat.
We moved forward. Troopers boarded their carriers as light cavalry rode ahead for reconnaissance. The tanks and APCs followed, and just as expected, bullets flew at us from all sides.
But only at squad-level intensity. Easily silenced by gun turrets, mounted machine guns, and mortar fire.
Were these merely feints? Just as I thought so, the ground on both sides collapsed, revealing large pits.
Of course!
“Full firepower! Infantry, disembark and advance while engaging!”
Instantly, I swung the “Sashigame” cannon to destroy the entry point on the left. As the remaining Decotum-4’s nose-mounted machine gun mowed down the emerging enemies, the air reeked with the putrid odor of their artificial blood. Disembarked warriors eliminated the stragglers.
[Get down, get down!]
[Fire, fire!]
[Frontal attacks are scary!]
With their characteristic swiftness, the Sylvanians formed a protective line ahead, swiftly eradicating an obstructing group trying to flank us. Meanwhile, the Tech Gobs held the rear, eliminating enemies trying to slip into the blind spots of vehicle-mounted machine guns.
“1-4, you’re too far ahead. You’ll be surrounded if you continue like this; fall back!”
“2-3, stay close to the squad leader. Heads can be collected later if needed.”
“4-1! You’re falling behind! Isolation means getting picked apart!!”
This impeccable coordination stems from Selene’s integrated command system tracking the exoskeletons’ locations and adversaries. A number series intelligent entity’s multitasking skills far surpass those of mechanized humans, enabling her to handle a squad’s movements effortlessly while I struggle.
As I admired her abilities, the right-side trap sprung.
But within just forty meters, two pits opened to our rear and one to the front.
Damn it, whack-a-mole? I used to play it as a kid, but losing coins was traumatizing.
“Direct all firepower forward! Rear guard left to Tech Gob Team Two, and the Sashigame!”
“Affirmative! First and second teams to the front, third and fourth covering them!”
[Scaryyyyyy]
Rabbit-shaped sound collectors with built-in noise reduction units lay flat as the Sylvanians sprinted forward. Their exoskeletons enhance muscle power by boosting their jumping ability rather than increasing stride speed, allowing them to leap dozens of meters into firing positions.
They fired immediately. Suppressive fire scattered the enemy while covering teams secured advantageous support positions.
[A bullet hit the shield!]
[It’s scary!]
[Don’t complain! It’s better than facing the Great Mother!!]
Among us all, Peter, now a seasoned soldier, scolded the front line while spraying bullets. As support units flanked and killed enemies, grenadiers pulled pins and tossed grenades into the pits. These grenades, equipped with pure demolition power that far exceeded the hand grenades used in VR games, effortlessly sealed the holes.
Our troops really are capable. Despite the rain of bullets, they continue their missions, pushing forward while saying “Scary!”—these are the soldiers the Integration Army respects. Whether smiling through combat or enduring out of duty, they prove to be excellent warriors.
As I obliterated a backside pit with the main gun and crushed emerging Nosferatus with the co-axial and remote-controlled machine guns, turning the battlefield, soaked with their white blood, into mud—shields deflected bullets and enemies were crushed before reaching our troops.
[What is THAT? It’s different from the others!]
[Don’t know! Just shoot!!]
Even with mechanized humans processing at high clock speeds, it was difficult to identify and handle the enemies as Tech Gob soldiers conversed while firing. Suddenly, a blast swept across the battlefield.
Suicide soldiers!? Shit, they’ve been holding back until now.
The explosive power was akin to plastic composite explosives from the old days—not overwhelming—but if one attaches to the fragile joints and detonates, it could damage the mechanical parts. We need to stop these immediately.
“Selene!”
“Priority targets identified!”
My reliable partner, upon command, scanned the battlefield and flagged the suicide soldiers in red on our displays. Thanks to this, the accompanying infantry and the cavalry riding around can identify dangerous enemies first and engage them before they detonate. Although fragments—bits of our own bodies and the ground—still fall as aftereffects, blinding sensors, it was helpful that no soldier was killed by the blasts themselves.
Just annoying that multiple soldiers had their sensors dirtied, requiring a cleanup time of about 0.3 real-time seconds, during which their vision is impaired. And some soldiers’ sensors were even scratched by bone fragments or weapon parts.
Shit, this is grade C equipment. Because it wasn’t designed with frontline combat in mind, it lacks proper reinforcement—what a waste. If they were at least grade B, transparent composite material shields would safeguard the sensors, making them impervious to such fragments.
“Don’t expose your head! Even if your vision is partially impaired, endure!”
[It’s tough, ■■■!]
[If you’ve time to complain, shoot, ■■!!]
[■■■■! ■■■!!]
The Tech Gobs, wielding fifty times the Sylvanian vocabulary for reprimands, reminded me nostalgically of old online VR games. It was fun participating in trench warfare with human-like avatars, especially those real-time, division-class battles with tens of thousands connected. Do such games still exist even now, two thousand years later?
While reminiscing, I fired a volley of grenades. The Nosferatus stopped their foolish frontal charges and began waiting near the entrance, only attacking once their numbers were sufficient. Together, we processed them into fish paste.
Suddenly, a red warning window flashed at the edge of my vision.
Ammo count down to 60%. What? Have we expended that much already?
Checking the detailed window, only 35 grenades and 29 AP grenades remained. Did I overindulge a bit, enjoying the “Sashigame’s” impressive firepower? We’re still far from the enemy stronghold.
“Selene, we’re getting concerned about the Sashigame’s ammo supplies! How about the accompanying infantry?”
“Fifth unit is distributing backups incrementally, so there is no issue for now, but reserves have dipped below 70%.”
“Damn it, the nose gun and turrets have below 60%? What an excessive expenditure, even if it was necessary to disperse that large crowd!!”
Still 2 km away, though the infantry, who weren’t allowed to fire much when the enemy surged like waves, have plenty of bullets left. But the vehicle weapons are worrying. Even with us carefully conserving our resources, the ammunition is still insufficient.
“Shall we retreat? Resupply is impossible at the front line.”
“No, we push forward. We don’t know the enemy’s replenishment rate. Withdrawing here would not reveal anything significant in terms of reconnaissance.”
At the very least, we need to glimpse a couple of the enemy’s cards, or it would have been completely futile if we retreated, giving them the advantage.
If they still have a large force hidden, or if their production capacity is nearing its limit—we haven’t even figured out how many cards we’re playing against, yet.
Retreating now when the opponent may have plenty of strength left would leave us leaving without knowing anything meaningful.
At least, the loss of life here would be meaningless without forcing the enemy to reveal some of their tactics.
“Stop shooting if vehicle machine guns fall to 30% ammo! Infantry should begin retreat when their carried ammo drops below 50%!”
“Understood. Redistribution in progress.”
“And, send back three of the accompanying artillery units as far as possible under enemy threat, using cavalry to protect them! We need an area saturation capability!”
“They’ll handle that, give me two and a half minutes.”
One hundred fifty seconds?! Damn, that’s long! But if they’re relocating them to a safer area less likely to be easily destroyed, it would naturally take that long to set up.
It’s an unavoidable expenditure. Let’s advance at a steady pace.
If we recklessly charge forward and run out of ammunition, and another ten-thousand enemies suddenly spawn, it wouldn’t be a laughing matter.
While cautious movement can extend our operations before reaching the “danger point,” it doesn’t mean we aren’t still risking too much.
At the least, I’ll ensure we’ve kept enough firepower for a breakthrough into their compound or a tactical withdrawal, though it’s quite a gamble.
We can always come back after a retreat.
【Exploratory Note】Unified Command System: Essentially a data-link system. The one Selene is currently using is a makeshift version, lacking components and severely performance-restricted. She’s compensating with sheer computational ability, and to achieve its full potential would require more support personnel or a large auxiliary brain.
The next update is scheduled around 15:00 on August 15, 2024.
