This Game Is Too Realistic-Chapter 323.2: The Rainbow Through The Clouds

Inside the artillery bunker.

Listening to the deafening explosions outside, Eye Owe Money sat against the wall and could not help exclaiming, "Oh my... When did these bandits get so rich?"

In the past, the Fang Clan's artillery bombardment would go on for a couple of rounds and then stop.

Unlike now, the rounds were continuous, one after another, without any sign of ceasefire even after 10 minutes.

Due to the rain, some water had seeped into the artillery bunkers. Fortunately, the players had anticipated the impact of the weather and had already dug drainage ditches in the trenches and bunkers. Although the heavy rain was pouring quite abruptly, the impact was not too significant.

Lying by the observation port of the bunker, Sideline Slacking held onto the spotting scope and suddenly spoke with excitement, "Enemy tanks have appeared on the opposite hill! There are 7 of them!"

They are here!

Those marauders really could no longer sit still!

"7? Didn’t they send 27?" Construction Boy, holding a rifle, counted on his fingers.

Eye Owe Money, sitting nearby, rolled his eyes, "You idiot. 27 is the total number of tanks. The enemies aren't dumb, how could they possibly cram all their tanks together and send them straight at us? Apart from the jam they would cause, even the infantry behind won’t keep up."

Construction Boy nodded in realization, "That makes sense!"

Eye Owe Money had already put on his neural connection headphones and spoke with eagerness, "Should we launch the drones?"

Sideline Slacking said with a deep voice, "No need to rush! Wait till all of their tanks are within range before we strike! Let's aim to eliminate them all in one go and spare no chance for them to retreat!"

Eye Owe Money exclaimed with excitement, "Alright!"

Stationed on the southern highlands of Pinewood Forest Valley was the Death Corps.

After nearly a month of continuous combat, the Death Corps's level had risen to LV21, and their maximum number of members had increased to 300.

The corps level was much easier than the increase in individual character levels, especially during wartime when it was time to accumulate merits.

As the first line of defense in the northern part of Bluestone County, the southern highlands of Pinewood Forest Valley were the best position to ambush enemies’ armored units.

The command from headquarters was to destroy the enemy tanks at all costs, preventing the Fang Clan's marauders from rushing towards high ground.

Sideline Slacking had a more radical idea.

He not only wanted to block those recklessly charging iron coffins, but also wanted those marauders charging alongside the tanks to stay there as well!

Opening VM, Sideline Slacking marked the coordinates for fire support and pressed the communication button to give a loud shout, "... This is Death Corps, requesting artillery support. Coordinates are in the central area of Pinewood Forest Valley. Cover fire for 5 rounds!"

A calm voice came through the communication channel.

"Command received, artillery orders have been issued."

Communication ended.

The sounds of gunfire on the battlefield gradually subsided.

The enemy tank units had entered the engagement range.

Sideline Slacking switched the communication channel to the team voice channel and looked back at his comrades, “Attention! Immediately grab your machine guns and anti-tank weapons and head to your combat positions! The enemy's tanks are almost upon us, but victory will be ours in the end! Let the forest at the foot of our mountain become their graves!”

His words were met with a chorus of voices that were unified, yet diverse.

"Roger!"

"Screw them!"

"Awooo!"

At the same time, the alarm bells rang loudly at the airport at the North of Dawn City.

"On board!" Following Mosquito's command, players from the Goblin Corps flight group rushed to board their aircraft.

A total of 50 W-2 Ground-Attack Aircraft gradually rolled out onto the runway from the hangars.

Even with the pouring heavy rain, the icy cold gleam of the sleek 10mm machine guns and the iconic 100kg cruise missiles remained visible.

Seated in the aircraft, Mosquito put on his pilot's cap and checked the weapon systems and instruments. At the same time, he could not help glancing at the big guy parked not far away.

H-1, a triple-engine propeller aircraft, the latest product from Steel Plant 81.

He heard that the idiots next door had specifically called it the Dragonfly, which was obviously a way to mock him.

However, to be honest, when compared to the 20 meter long aircraft body, the little aircraft beneath him did indeed look like a fly.

However, Mosquito was not envious.

So what if it's big? Bigger isn’t better!

In the sky, that thing was just a larger coffin.

In aerial combat, speed was what mattered!

"Hehe, just you wait!" Mosquito had already made up his mind. When his W-3 was completed, he would name it the ‘Frog’!

Mock me?

Dream on!

At that moment, the team's voice channel was filled with chatter.

"Coach! Are you sure this piece of junk... I mean, do you think this plane can actually fly in the rain?" Falling Feather, who was sitting in the control cabin, nervously shouted.

"Not a problem! I've waterproofed it!" Mosquito replied casually.

"B, but what if a bullet hit the battery..."

Hearing that foolish question, Mosquito chuckled.

"Have a little confidence. Even on a clear day, if you catch bullets in your battery, you're still done for."

Falling Feather thought for a second and realized it made sense. "Damn it!"

He casually muted the team's voice channel, and the chattering voices abruptly ceased.

Mosquito cleared his throat, used his distinctly hoarse voice and yelled, "Don't overthink it! Just follow my lead, push the throttle to the max, and get the job done! Let's do this!"

The propellers sliced through the fine raindrops.

With the throttle pushed to the limit, Mosquito gripped the control stick and pulled up the nose of the aircraft as it reached the threshold speed.

One by one, the W-2 Ground-Attack Aircraft took off, following closely behind him, streaking towards the skies above the northern Pinewood Forest Valley.

Upon reaching the designated altitude, Mosquito accessed the team’s communication channel through their VM.

"... This is Mosquito! We're coming! How's the situation on the frontline?"

The communication channel’s sounds were chaotic.

Occasional sounds of explosions echoed through.

Hearing the chaotic noise, Mosquito clicked his tongue unconsciously.

Great.

They’re already engaged in battle now!

After a brief period of chaos, Sideline Slacking’s voice came through from the other side.

"... This is the Death Corps! Enemy tanks have entered the engagement range. They're firing at us! Damn it, how much longer until you guys arrive?!"

"Almost there, almost there!"

"Give me something more accurate!" Sideline Slacking roared.

"20 minutes! We're moving at full speed!" Throttling to the max, Mosquito shouted back, "Hang in there, guys!"

...

The southern defensive position of Pinewood Forest Valley.

The tanks on the lower ground raised their gun barrels, and the 100mm main guns continued firing at the high ground, suppressing the enemy's firepower.

The Fang Clan's armored spearhead had all entered the battlefield. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com

The first column chose to attack the enemy position head-on, while the second and third column spread out to both sides, preparing to launch an attack from 3 directions simultaneously.

At the same time, New Alliance's artillery fire reached the battlefield.

100mm shells rained down from the sky, kicking up billowing dust in the forest, causing significant casualties among the marauders that were following the tanks.

However, those shells were still too weak to damage the Conqueror 10 Tanks. At most, the explosions and shockwaves would scratch their armor.

Although the anti-tank obstacles placed on the edge of the forest restricted the tanks' movement routes, relying solely on those defenses was clearly insufficient to completely block heavy tanks like the Conqueror 10.

However, the players stationed there had prepared other surprises for those tanks...

A tank was moving along the edge of the forest, providing cover for a squad of 10 marauders as they circled to the left side of New Alliance's position.

As the vanguard of the assault, they would be the first to charge up the hill and occupy the trenches the New Alliance had dug on the high ground.

However, at that moment, just a short distance from the tank, the muddy ground was suddenly lifted to reveal a wooden board covered with grass, and a person covered in mud jumped out.

Around his waist was a coil of explosives, and his body was covered in mud, resembling an evil swamp ghost. The marauders around him were left stunned, not understanding what was happening.

The squad leader, leading the team, was the first to react. He quickly raised his submachine gun.

However, when he pulled the trigger, it was too late.

The man looked at the tank as if he had found treasure. Without a word, he removed the fuse from the explosives and threw himself at the tank's treads.

With a mouth covered in mud, he did not forget to shout in excitement, "Munanyo!”

Boom!

An explosion sent flames soaring into the sky!

Caught off guard, the squad of 10 marauders next to the tank fell like harvested wheat, suffering heavy casualties!

On the other hand, the tank that served as cover was splattered with flying flesh and gunpowder residue.

Accompanied by a creaking sound, the right tread of the tank rolled off the idler wheel and fell off. The tank in motion tilted to the side, its body ramming directly into a tree trunk.

Watching the instant obliteration of the 10 men squad and the broken down tank, Wabu, who was supervising from behind, was dumbfounded. He could not help but curse aloud, "Damn it! What the hell was the thing that just jumped out of the ground?!"

A nearby rifle-wielding companion trembled. "It-it seemed like a person."

"A person?!" Wabu's eyes widened, his face filled with confusion. Are these people utterly reckless?!

The assaulted tank adjusted its position, aiming its front towards the high ground. The turret's top hatch opened, and the tank commander coughed as he poked half his head out of the turret, shouting to the infantrymen behind.

"Our tread is brok..."

Before he could finish his sentence, bullets whizzed down from the hillside, scaring the tank commander back into the turret.

Its armor was scratched by bullets. The enraged tank immediately rotated its turret, shooting the mounted machine gun at the hillside, while the main cannon fired a 100mm high-explosive shell.

However, the people there had already moved. Apart from blasting a layer of grass off, that shot hit nothing else.

With half his body sticking out of the turret, Bagro shielded the back of his head with the turret hatch, loudly yelling to Wabu, who was following behind the tanks, "Wabu, have your men watch their feet!"

Hearing the tank column leader, Bagro's shout, Wabu quickly realized what was happening. He loudly shouted to his men, "Everyone, watch your step! If you see anything suspicious, stab it with your bayonet!"

It was not just a single tank that had broken down. Soon, people continuously emerged from underground, recklessly charging towards the nearby tanks.

Out of the 7 tanks in the first column, 5 were immediately immobilized, leaving the remaining 2 tanks too afraid to continue their assault. They could only stop in place and provide cover for their men.

The marauders who had followed the tanks up to the base of the hill found themselves being pinned down behind cover, desperately enduring the relentless machine gun fire from above and the chaotic bombardment of mortars.

Standing on the northern hilltop, Dillon held a pair of binoculars, his brow furrowed as he stared ahead.

In just 10 short minutes, the infantry advancing with the tanks had already suffered a 40% casualty rate, while the tanks of the first column had begun losing their treads one after another.

It seemed that New Alliance knew they could not break through the Conqueror 10's armor, so they were targeting the relatively vulnerable treads, even resorting to suicide attacks.

Their fighting spirit was truly astonishing.

However, hoping to stop his armored forces with such childish tactics was rather naive.

He had a total of 27 tanks and 50 anti-aircraft trucks, with 5 brigades waiting in reserve on the defensive line.

Once they broke through the southern hilltop of Pinewood Forest Valley, his armored units could charge straight into the Bluestone County urban area, and even conquer Remote Creek Town that was merely 20 kilometers away from the northernmost point of Dawn City in one fell swoop.

By then, the New Alliance would have no more positions to defend.

Picking up his radio, Dillon gave an order in a deep voice, "Fourth and fifth column, follow up, move along the first column's path and launch an assault!"

Then, he looked at Bear Fang, who was standing nearby, "Prepare for the second round of attacks! Have your infantry follow behind!"

Bear Fang nodded enthusiastically, "Got it!"

10 tanks waiting on the northern hilltop started moving, accompanied by 20 anti-aircraft trucks and 5 companies of marauders.

The overwhelming killing intent permeated in the rain.

Dillon squinted his eyes slightly.

He seemed to already envision the sight of New Alliance's positions being crushed under the tank treads.

However, right at that moment, the water droplets sliding down his cap suddenly ceased.

Dillon blinked as he raised his head to the sky, his pupils contracting abruptly.

In the midst of the once thick blanket of clouds, it was as if something had torn them apart, leaving behind only a thin veil of clouds, even revealing a clear blue sky behind.

That faintly visible azure was like a crack etched into a stone tablet.

Dillon seemed to vaguely catch the glimpse of a rainbow...

Whispers from his subordinates reached his ears.

Why did the rain stop?”

“It's only been an hour...”

“The rain just suddenly stopped...”

“Come to think of it, heavy rain usually comes with strong winds, but there's barely any wind today.”

Icy cold liquid trickled down Dillon's forehead.

He could no longer discern whether it was cold sweat or raindrops.

Artificial rain...

They actually used artificial rain?!

Having spent a whole year battling in the North and the Great Rift Valley, Dillon had seen all sorts of tactics, but encountering such a bizarre strategy was truly a first for him. The enemy had predicted his plans and by countering him, they gifted him with rain...

He had been careless!

In the distance, within that rainbow, Dillon vaguely saw dots of darkness that emerged from the edges of the clouds in neatly-arranged formations, diving towards the ground below.

Fear was written in his eyes. The composed expression on his face had vanished. Ripping off his communication device, he shouted at the top of his lungs, "Anti-aircraft units! Watch your heads!"

"Enemy aircraft incoming!"