I Have A Martial Dao World-Chapter 524 - : First Battle

Chapter 524: First Battle

The northern part of Goryeo was plagued with a cold, protracted winter, and even though it was already April, the average daily temperature still remained at a bitter minus 8 degrees.

But in the icy and snowy expanse, only the “Qingchuan River” could be seen as a green ribbon stretching across the land.

This river was a major waterway in northern Goryeo, where fertile plains and numerous important towns lay within its basin.

The moisture along the riverside froze into a spectacle known as “rime,” with towering trees adorned in frost like silver and jade, sparkling with an eerie glow under the warm winter sun, transforming the landscape into a fairyland indescribably beautiful.

However, this breathtaking scenery was soon to be marred by human activities.

The Izumo Army had already deployed heavy forces along both banks of the Qingchuan River, preparing for the imminent Yi Dynasty Army.

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The Goryeo Puppet Army dug trenches all over the terrain, creating multiple defensive lines, and even constructed concrete bunkers on high ground as positions for heavy firepower.

Heavy machine guns, mortars, and other powerful weaponry had been installed, including the “Erlikon 20MM Autocannon.”

The Izumo troops were convinced they had made comprehensive preparations and would surely crush the enemy.

Still, many soldiers felt disgruntled.

At this moment, a “Squad Leader” clad in a wool-collared military coat thundered:

“Dammit! We are the ‘Tiger Corps’ of the Izumo Empire. How can we cower here like cowards!”

The defenders along the Qingchuan River were the 19th Division of Izumo, also known as the “Tiger Corps.”

Aside from the 50,000 Izumo soldiers, there were also 50,000 men from the Goryeo Puppet Army assisting in defense.

The Squad Leader kicked over a puppet soldier carrying sandbags, venting his anger with a beating, then boasted to his men:

“Six years ago, I, Watanabe, fought against the Shina people in Pyongyang!

They were as feeble as rabbits, one Izumo warrior is worth a hundred of those Shina cowards! There’s absolutely no need for us to crouch in the trenches…”

Just as “Watanabe” was speaking without shame, several soldiers under him were frantically signaling with their eyes.

He turned around and saw his superior had been standing behind him without notice.

The regiment commander, adorned with a katana at his waist, delivered a series of slaps without a word:

“Baka! How dare you question the honor of the division commander!”

Watanabe’s face swelled like a pig’s head from the slaps, yet he dared not retort and stood at attention to take it:

Fortunately, the sound of artillery fire suddenly burst forth from the front lines, signaling that combat with the enemy had likely begun.

The regiment commander spared him and shouted with a wave of his hand, “The Shina people are approaching quickly; get to your battle stations immediately!”

After speaking, he returned to the bunker on higher ground.

Watanabe also hurried to inspect the firearms and equipment of his troops, personally checking the machine guns and hand grenades.

Outwardly he seemed earnest, yet inwardly he was skeptical.

His position was at the northern shore’s second line of defense. Could the Shina people really make it this far?

At that moment, the sound of artillery from the front gradually ceased.

Only about ten minutes had passed at this time, and Watanabe couldn’t help but laugh out loud, “It’s over so soon? They’re utterly pathetic!”

Soldiers around him, their helmets adorned with cherry blossoms, also excitedly said, “That’s great. After the battle, we can go to the comfort station again.”

Another short, plump soldier said lewdly, “Just in, a batch of ‘new goods’ the officers tired of playing with—I’ve been eagerly awaiting this.”

As they talked about this, they all joked, “Those cost 5 yuan each time.”

“We only get a monthly military salary of 6 yuan; you’re really willing to spend.”

The short, fat soldier took out a stack of black and white photos from his pocket, his face lost in reverie: “It’s all worth it; these will be precious memories for my whole life!”

The photos were all of him posing with comfort women, the expressions on those Chinese women’s faces grotesquely twisted.

Seeing his intoxicated demeanor, the people around let out strange, lecherous laughs.

The sound of gunfire never resumed, they all believed the Shina people had retreated, and their vigilance relaxed even further.

But just then, a shrill shout suddenly erupted.

Everyone looked up, only to see a man running toward their position in an odd stance.

This man was dressed in the uniform of a junior officer, clutching a broken katana, and was missing a leg.

Using both his hands and remaining foot, he rushed in their direction, frantically yelling, “Blow up the bridge! Blow up the bridge!!! Quickly!!!”

Recognizing the man and his voice, everyone exclaimed in shock, “It’s… the Lieutenant Colonel!”

The approaching man was the commander of the first defensive line, how could he be in such a sorry state? And why was he telling us to blow up the bridge?

The next second, several high-temperature warheads shot forth, mercilessly piercing the Lieutenant Colonel, leaving 7 or 8 bowl-sized holes in his body.

His blood, clear as mercury, sprayed into the air, and the Blood-Exchange officer crashed to the ground motionless.

The Izumo soldiers watched in disbelief at the scene unfolding before their eyes—countless ferocious steel beasts emerged into their field of vision!

The previously arrogant Watanabe was utterly stunned, “This can’t be… it hasn’t even been 15 minutes…”

Everyone realized why the sound of gunfire at the front had ceased so quickly. In the mere minutes they had chatted, the first defensive line had fallen!

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At that moment, the regiment commander unsheathed his katana and, pointing forward, shouted, “Fire!!!”

It was only then that the Izumo soldiers snapped out of their trance and hurriedly engaged their weapons to fire.

The Type 38 rifles and various light and heavy machine guns roared into action, and the din of gunfire erupted in an instant.

Bullets, searing hot from friction, spun out of the barrels and pelted down like raindrops, pinging off the Mecha with a metallic ring.

The bullets, at best, left inconsequential scratches on the Mecha’s “Boron Carbide Ceramic” armor, then were either deflected or shattered upon impact, having no other effect.

The construction of the Mecha was extremely simple, with front armor as thick as 10 CM, akin to a WWII-era Tiger Tank, but it was a multilayered composite at a steep angle, completely impervious to ordinary firepower.

Shi Rongchun gestured forward and bellowed, “Kill the enemy!”

One hundred Blood-Exchange Warriors from two divisions, piloting 2.3-meter-tall humanoid tanks, launched an assault, a veritable steel tide!

Otherworld saw its first instance of an armored cluster charge!

The commander of the Izumo forces, forcing himself to remain calm, urgently ordered the artillery to open fire.

Six Type 92 70mm infantry guns and four Type 41 75mm mountain guns immediately answered the call, their cannonballs shrieking through the air, blossoming explosions everywhere.

The shockwaves, mingled with ice and dirt, hurtled against the Mecha, causing them at most a slight stumble.

Even when cannonballs struck the Mecha directly, causing violent explosions and billowing smoke, it was to no avail.

The Izumo side briefly cheered, but as the smoke cleared, the Mecha reappeared unscathed.

The Mecha were designed to withstand 155mm artillery fire, and the Izumo people’s cannons were simply not powerful enough, hardly making the pilots inside feel a thing.

As the distance between the forces shrunk, the Izumo side’s Erlikon autocannons also began their ferocious onslaught.

But aside from causing sparks to fly in all directions, they were still utterly useless.

The color drained from the regiment commander’s face. Right then, a signal corpsman with a backpack radio ran up, “Sir, we’ve made contact with the heavy artillery position!”

But the complexion of the commander had turned deathly pale, “It’s already too late! Have the heavy artillery strike our own position!”

Only then did the signal corpsman notice—in just a few short minutes, the distance between the two forces had closed to just 1 kilometer!

Those steel monsters were simply too fast, definitely exceeding 50 kilometers per hour, and they were already aiming their Gatling Guns at this location!