Chapter 26: The Assault

After midnight, Qian Ye arrived at East and West District with his guards. The tallest structure here was a ten-story hotel that had already been evacuated completely.

Looking westward through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows from the top room of the hotel, one could vaguely glimpse the full panorama of the Seventh Division’s headquarters in the neighboring district. Yet through Qian Ye’s extraordinary vision, the distance—less than a kilometer—required not a binocular to examine every detail.

Qian Ye stood by the window, staring at the brightly illuminated camp opposite. Faintly, he felt a jubilant atmosphere there. He suddenly sighed deeply in his heart—an entire army of warriors, simply because of small immediate gains—about to lose their lives. Unbeknownst to them, this happiness tonight was in fact their last festivity ever. They have been abandoned.

Silently, Qian Ye unsheathed Red Fang, gently brushing the sword with his finger, seemingly unconscious that his hand was sliced open, bleeding continuously.

Officers who entered later with reports witnessed the scene. The tension appeared evident on their faces, though none dared remind Qian Ye, simply delivering their reports before rushing out again hastily.

Seated on the sofa diagonally opposite was Du Yuanze, his spine stiff and upright. His nerves remained stressed for the moment yet oddly numb, and time almost felt like a dream to him—he occasionally stared at his hands in wonder, paler than ever before.

Officer upon officer knocked and entered, relaying updates directly in front of Qian Ye as though not noticing the presence of Du. Meanwhile, with every such piece of reporting, Du grew noticeably paler still.

All the while—red drops fell incessantly from the tip of Red Fang onto the floor.

Nobody knew precisely how much time had elapsed, yet by some point even the city that seldom slept slowly grew silent, and its many lights began dimming. Very few of the nocturnally active creatures usually seen moved that night within Heilium城, with the whole place drifting into an odd quiet.

Eventually, two more commanding officers completed their updates and then left, leaving the room in peace again.

Du Yuanze couldn’t hold in his frustration, exasperatedly saying, “Bringing this matter to this scale, I’m warning you, you yourself might not contain the aftermath—call it off now!”

At that moment though Qian Ye had already lowered Red Fang, turning now his attention to maintaining a level five vampire sniper rifle.

Still relatively pristine—around 80% condition—the rifle had been from Colonel Wei Bainian’s exclusive collection. Assuming Qian had taken an evident favor towards vampire armament simply because so much was evident upon his personal selection of weapons, Wei offered the piece to him, perhaps originally thought only a display of status. Now however wielded by Qian, it proved without question a brutal weapon indeed.

He handled the rifle, not addressing his bleeding fingers, inspecting it part by part. Little by little, deep staining from blood crept across every functional section from stock to barrel.

Seemingly oblivious and without glancing back, Qian Ye spoke with cold disinterest at Du’s interruption. “Who’s truly worried for the outcome… would more fittingly concern you rather than me.”

Du suddenly understood the situation clearly by now: Qian never intended to kill him; and had not tried to avoid him while setting strategies either, meaning Du was meant to directly witness how Anhwo would capture Heilium City instead. Even a further suspicion arose—that afterward Qian might let him go freely in hopes of telling General Tong what he directly experienced. Nonetheless no such comfort was felt from this prospect in the smallest bit.

The Expedition Army occupied a singular standing inside Qin’s military organization. Being previously the high official rank itself in core fighting forces, such common military sense had always belonged to him. It wasn’t until now precisely when recalling those regulations did all their prior implications begin clearly unfurling themselves in Du’s head.

Only the two main divisions under direct control of Expedition’s command enjoyed full wage allocations. Meanwhile all the other troop numbers received merely half pay provisions at the frontier during the colonization and expansion efforts, and sometimes even less. Some division commanders received mere division titles alone, later capturing a territory nearby before gradually growing a division out of those local forces.

Division commanders of the Expedition Force usually possessed immense administrative and martial authorities, often controlling military defense, civil management within regions and cities smaller than a principality level, yet the responsibilities shouldered by its respective commanders were equally immense proportionally. From this perspective one might even analogically view the Expedition Force like a miniature empire of the kingdom. The different divisions were akin therefore to noble factions, while their controlled regions were their own dominion, with the royal dynasty simply maintaining nominal sovereignty over each land with taxation and military mobilization rights in time of war.

Despite its relative internal peace compared against outer Dark Races conflictions though, the realm itself was certainly nowhere near perfect peace; internal rebellion remained an issue. And the mutinous units are not the only threats to national integration either; feuds may sometimes result into armed conflicts even between various clans—while even if the imperial throne usually would eventually mediate any such conflicts later, the territories once occupied wouldn’t often necessarily restore back to former governance.

This last train of reflection led Du into an unconscious shiver, sweat making the back of his clothes cling tightly. Could this actually be the actual goal—was this so-called ‘Anhwo Mercenary Unit’ really planning to absorb Seventh Division’s military region entirely from beneath us?

Just then, Song Hu entered quietly and reported. “Wei’s General handed command over fully to the deputy commanding officer of the Seventh and departed Heilium City sometime before midnight per all reports in my hands. Our unit now maintains firm control of the southern city gates. All tactical squads stand completely prepared and ready at an instantaneous moment’s notice.”

Qian Ye casually observed the current time display.

“Proceed at 05:00 A.M. Shoot every individual who attempts resistance.”

“Aye Commander.”

For Du right then though, this stretch of seconds dragged like eternity. Regardless still, they passed steadily as sand falls through glass.

Nine and a half hours had passed prior to the 05:00 hour, when nearly all senior Anhwo Officers assembled into that single hotel room for individual confirmations of final duties, each formally presenting to Qian, affirming the precise role then receiving dismissal and proceeding outwards.

Five strikes.

Heilium’s peace then shattered as heavy mechanical motors’ roar filled the city. Out through the gates of Anhwo base surged forth vehicle formations—heavy duty flat-beds, armored vehicles, mounted wheel artillery carriages; heavy units seldom seen except at large-scale battles; crushing through silent street surfaces with thunderous echoes of iron.

Startled residents awakened inside their homes peered out from upper stories and open windows while cursing—but as they saw the vehicles passing below, expressions of annoyance instantly turned sharply to sheer awe-struck fright. Hastily shutting their respective windows they retreated inward, fearful that anything short of complete silence risk drawing some kind of dangerous attention.

Within streets of Seventh Division posts existed watch towers at critical strategic nodes. Yet as soon as alert measures began emerging, each barrier-gate collapsed simultaneously and inwards with thunder-clap explosives—Anhwo soldiers instantly pouring across and immediately swarming their targets in synchronized attack. Rapid seizures were made, and the guards disarmed and held before they realized what exactly hit them.

These outposts normally boasted hidden placements and hardening measures. Yet with魏柏年having arranged them all from the very beginning, every defensive position now essentially acted only as exposed weak spots—defenseless before wolves. By the very onset of full-scale offensive, every guard post belonging to Seventh Division within these streets now were fully neutralized simultaneously—meanwhile rival non-aligned local authorities remained disturbingly quiet, suspiciously indifferent—as if suddenly struck blind and deaf.

Anhwo mobilised nearly all manpower, dividing into three prongs of attack. The majority including the finest Specials unit pushed headlong directly straight towards Seventh Division HQ, rapidly blocking every possible access path throughout the surrounding district.

Meanwhile other smaller groups drove through South Gate, speeding towards two far locations in Yun Fan City and Sishui Camp—the two other bases where the Seventh might hold their additional garrisons stationed outside this immediate urban region of their primary command seat. Their precise instructions were not meant for launching open offensive maneuvers, merely to blockade the area’s exits; stopping any reinforcement that possibly might attempt to mobilize from those locations outward.

Beyond city limits, military-grade airships began taking their place above city heights. The one gifted by Commander Wei to Qian Ye—the heavy-class battleship—finally revealed today its reason for acquisition. It stood poised to assist compensating for Anhwo’s insufficient firepower while ensuring completely that no Seventh Division unit would deploy heavy artillery again freely. Airship technology, well recognized, was universally understood as a counterforce against all surface-bound military technology on battlefields already—hence its presence here this dawn marked not only an ace of the skies but an ace of overwhelming finality.

Du Yuanze observed the illuminated outline of an inflating balloon beginning to rise over Heilium’s south skyline—the bright lights affixed beneath trembling visibly due to wind turbulence as the vast silhouette emerged against darkness beyond, making this aerial behemoth impossible for him to overlook even from distance—his identification swift; its weaponry evident from markings he already memorized beforehand.

Amused though he was by such unexpected deployment of overwhelming technology throughout Anhwo forces’ prior actions, the reality still struck him hard and sudden like a blade across his stomach—as he took his startled, sharp gaspin, audible unmistakably to even himself even despite external chaos beyond these silent walls.

With this monstrous grade 5 sniper in grip, Qien Ye lifted himself upright and turned sternly to address Du, voice commanding calmness and icy resolution, saying—“remain hence forward inside this room—without exception, remain. Should your foot carry beyond its threshold but even slightly, then I promise: that single misstep will be your final breath—you live through this battle to take its tale back directly with you alone—none must forget these events in the capital, and certainly not our esteemed commander General Tong. That said, no further attention or care was offered; Qien Ye proceeded immediately, stepping outside past doorways and into chaos.

Inside that suddenly abandoned room’s eerie silence, the lone figure of Du froze in the sofa motionlessly. His mental cognition seemed utterly blank momentarily—a mental void left where all comprehension had gone suddenly silent inside the head, with absolutely no idea of any next logical action he was supposed to be taking.

While Qian Ye stepped onto the rooftop landing area of his hotel, finding a convenient angle, he placed his sniper carefully on rest. Through the scope he would watch carefully every change occurring in Seventh Regiment Command HQ and surrounding neighborhoods simultaneously from up here.

The moment within camp Seventh Division Command was indeed unwise for the last possible complacent sleepers to finally awaken—sights revealed to be two wheeled cannon rolling through the streets, deploying immediately their legs on reaching near the main entrance; as black-turreted openings slowly unfolded forward—the first sign revealing the commencement of artillery fire operations. Only now did the watch outside raise alarm bells—too late.

Such screaming alert pierced into the midnight hush sharply, but even the camp headquarters were noticeably a beat behind—responding not merely slow but entirely disjointed. Troops scattered out of bunk hastily without coordination; many ran in complete confusion throughout the parade grounds, clearly unaware of proper tactical actions to take.

Qian Ye observing below knew immediately from their chaotic conduct the effects魏柏年代already made its full impact within their enemy stronghold before today’s dawn arrived.

Colonel Wei’s command over his subordinates was famously strict. Over a period of months past—the Seventh Division had experienced a long series of critical transformations, and had fought repeated engagements that stretched them ever near maximum capacity of war stress. Hence rest and relief had hardly been granted, and any chance for real recreation simply denied entirely.

Tonight however, a final night unlike many others: their departing commanding officer had ordered one full day’s holiday; the evening mess even served additional portions as a gesture—also a rare temporary allowance lifted off alcohol restriction within base area, creating a unique atmosphere not usually granted.

Even though technically every officer had an unspoken responsibility to coordinate hand-over procedures already—with most officers having partially started contacting incoming higher authorities already—this rare break still allowed even a small relaxation. Soldiers of course found this even more pleasant than expected—as an extraordinary break from routine stress—a chance not to be ignored and therefore thoroughly celebrated. Therefore across camp most officers and subordinates allowed themselves indulgence—severely overconsuming liquor.

Therefore 5 A.M. arrived exactly while humans found themselves in deepest REM sleep stages, while most personnel remained heavily asleep and in partial hangover induced fog from the partying still lingering throughout.

At this precise time and place—Qian witnessed firsthand how魏柏年的strategy effectively nullified Seventh Division’s combat readiness almost completely in reality. An extraordinary piece.

Reinforcement motor lines advanced rapidly upon these critical structures—an entire convoy of armed four by fours, troop transports speeding towards Seventh Division buildings while from every hatch and open doorway leapers poured rapidly—mercenaries heavily-armed, steadily advancing under darkness.

From these units numerous commanders yelled in unison across the grounds with amplified speakers and bullhorns:

“By official declaration under Anhwo authority—we command Seventh Division to submit arms and fully dissolve into restructured Expedition order—All forces surrender immediately under orders from Command Headquarters. Those who resist will be gunned down at spot.”

Yet inside headquarters grounds a major leapt upon a vehicle platform and shouted—

“That is mutiny! Stand by your rifles immediately, rally formation against the incoming—crush these disgraceful rogue mercenaries immediately—we take no prisoners.”

He continued rallying the still dazed garrison as loud shouts echoed outward. Then suddenly amidst shouting, a beam of red lightning tore across night sky and reality.

The entire top half of that Major’s body, including both head and half his left chest disappeared instantly; what remained fell slowly from the tank, impacting violently onto stoned pavement with an audible splat.

A moment later, scattered screams filled the ranks below.

“SNIPER—CONTACT SNIPER!!”

Panic immediately overtook camp occupants as every trooper scrambled toward nearby defenses and shadows, ducking behind every available object seeking shelter; Meanwhile on practice courtyard several other officers also ceased all thoughts on assembling units—instead first ensuring a location themselves secure before advancing.

From nearby another figure—a major rank—showed no fear nor hesitation. He yelled for his own squad, attempting rallying his soldiers remaining around to regain structure—directing them forward for organized weapons retrieval toward armory section for planned counterattack operation.

This brave figure chose an intelligent and tactical location—positioned precisely behind at an optimal blind angle at one building junction, also benefitting slightly from an already existing semi-covered stone barrier; this provided defense protection on multiple exposure fronts except directly head-on, making it a seemingly well-positioned spot.

Qian Ye scanned for the location of voice quickly, mentally noting immediately every potential trajectory and obstacles between his rifle barrel and target area precisely. His rifle was primed next instant—loading standard mass-reaction bullet core, proceeding immediately onto one knee posture, unhurriedly engaging massive caliber loading while activating secondary-element enhancements upon his core rounds—then—pulled trigger.

With resounding explosion and yellow-golden flash, force energy tore clean through stone barrier with zero resistance left to slow it. The young officer’s midriff and torso was suddenly punctured with an explosive wound hole—an after-affecting explosion inside chest cavities adding injury upon insult.

Elemental rounds—were a specialized combat technique mastered during Qian Ye entering rank 8 evolution stages—imparts certain destructive traits onto standard force-energy bullets beyond pure velocity-based kinetic impact effect.

Camp grounds erupted again with total disorder once more. From other positions nearby, commanding officers attempted communicating with nearby loyalists quietly from cover positions—none of them daring to voice any commands from any position of visibility now again.

The presence of such an unstoppable marksman among enemy ranks had changed battlefield dynamic entirely; anyone stepping out to command simply became first target.

Meanwhile several of Seventh Division’s own counter-snipers had now finally readied their equipment and prepared to counterattack. Yet they realized with dread the chaos of ongoing battle made any accurate spotting impossible even with estimating rough direction based upon last two gunshot origin points. None had a death wish rushing forward without support fire cover.

In better news however—the main base gate had shut completely as mechanisms on either side roared and steam clouds erupted out continuously; the heavy iron blast doors that only activated during wartime slowly sliding toward completion—securing an additional physical block before anyone from outside might force entrance.

From afar, high on his observation point—Qien observed the whole situation without making any move to counter or hinder the defensive maneuver.

He understood the command responsibility lay already with Duan Hao for this engagement, confident in Duan understanding and responding precisely as planned.

And so, shortly following their deployment, the already-mounted two wheeled-mounted cannon batteries roared with fury—the distances too painfully short for the concept of ‘artillery strike range’—these were firing literally at point blank distance into gate.

A single concussive blast would rock the terrain and structure of this urban zone. After roughly fifteen such direct strikes in rapid successions however—at 509 AM precisely on this night—the heavy doors of the Seventh Headquarters groaned heavily—before finally crashing completely to the ground in utter devastation.

All sound and fury of war followed the fall of gates directly afterwards. The invasion had now officially begun.

Every man in Anhwo who could be armed, stood prepared—ready with their steel and their rage—to carve the name of their unit deep into this city, forever sealing this day in crimson within the annals of its conquest; in the very marrow of this night—the future had changed in irrevocably unforeseen ways, even in the grand scope of war epics to come across ages untold.