The shell fired from the bazooka trailed flames from its tail, carving a straight column of smoke through the air. The shrill scream of metal tearing through wind sounded especially piercing across this silent land.
In the widened eyes of the Middle Eastern soldier, the shell grew larger and larger, closer and closer. Though he saw it hurtling toward him, his body couldn't react in time. He opened his mouth and only managed to gasp out, "Enemy att—" before the final word died in his throat.
The shell shot straight through the firing slit of the fortress. In what felt like a flash of lightning, it slammed into the sturdy inner wall. The fuse triggered instantly, and a fireball wrapped in countless shards of shrapnel exploded violently within the cramped space.
The explosion's fireball consumed all the oxygen in the small fortress in an instant. The Middle Eastern soldiers inside first felt a suffocating despair—and in the next second, blazing flames and flying fragments swallowed their bodies whole.
Outside, Yago saw only a dull boom erupt from within the fortress, followed by several bursts of flame shooting out from the firing slits.
Yago and the others held their position, waiting to see whether the bazooka weapon had worked. After a long moment, silence remained.
Serena couldn't hold back any longer. With a wave of her right hand, several agile soldiers hoisted their rifles and immediately rose from the trench, cautiously approaching the fortress.
Everyone's breathing grew heavy as they stared at the few advancing soldiers, afraid that the Middle Easterners' fortress would suddenly roar to life with machine-gun fire.
But even when the soldiers reached the fortress, not a single shot was fired.
Serena watched her subordinates nervously. Only when they vigorously waved their arms back at her did she finally let out a breath. Her face lit up with excitement.
"Great! It worked! It's effective!"
Yago's suspended heart finally settled as well. The soldiers of the Third Regiment were greatly encouraged, their morale soaring.
Yago: "All units, attention! Advance!"
"Yes!"
One muffled explosion after another began echoing through the chaotic stone forest.
...
Inside the largest fortress at the rear of the fortress complex, the Middle Eastern officer in charge of defense had bloodshot eyes. He lashed out at his subordinates.
"What the hell are you doing!? What exactly are you doing!? Why have more than a dozen frontline fortresses lost contact!? It's only been two hours! And you're telling me you haven't even seen so much as a Marleyan hair!? Useless! All of you are useless!!"
His subordinates stood trembling, not daring to argue. The intelligence they'd gathered from the front was truly limited. No one knew what method the Marleyans had used to silently uproot over a dozen of their supposedly impregnable fortresses. Could the Marleyans be using witchcraft? Weren't they supposed to rely only on the power of Titans? But Titans were impossible to miss—there hadn't been any sign of Titans here at all!
Bang!
The officer slammed his palm against the table, his face twisted with rage. When he'd come to defend the southern fortress complex, he'd boasted that he could hold off fifty thousand Marleyan troops for five days. Yet now, without even seeing the enemy's shadow, he had already lost more than a dozen frontline fortresses. It was a humiliation beyond measure.
"Contact the artillery immediately! Full firepower bombardment! Blast those damned Marleyan monkeys out of hiding!!"
The more than ten fortresses at the front had been taken down largely because they stood almost isolated from one another, lacking continuity, which had given the Third Regiment the opportunity to eliminate them one by one. But now, standing before the Third Regiment was a truly interconnected fortress network—one where fields of fire overlapped and crossed.
To deal with this kind of fortress, Yago once again proposed a new tactic.
Dig.
Take shovels and carve out a trench straight toward the Middle Eastern fortresses. Dig deep enough, and there'd be no need to fear their bullets.
Thus, the Middle Eastern soldiers inside the fortresses witnessed a strange sight. In the Marleyan position, dust flew everywhere and shovels flashed constantly—but not a single Marleyan soldier showed his head. Having never seen such a method before, the Middle Easterners were completely dumbfounded.
Yet they had no way to deal with the Third Regiment hiding within the trenches. Their anticipated ultimate weapon—a deadly machine-gun fire net—was useless when the enemy refused to expose themselves.
Left with no other option, they could only keep calling for artillery support.
And so, in the southern sector of Grayle Fortress, a curious scene unfolded. Middle Eastern artillery poured down relentlessly, while on the other side, the Eldian Third Regiment simply refused to return fire. When shells came, they hid. When the bombardment stopped, they dug forward toward the fortresses.
Faced with such shamelessly stubborn tactics, the Middle Eastern officer flew into a fury. Several times he nearly lost his mind, wanting to charge across with a curved blade and duel the Marleyan commander himself, cursing the opponent's lack of honor.
"If we're fighting a war, then fight properly! Line up and clash blade to blade! What kind of skill is this underhanded nonsense!?"
But no matter how furious he was, he could not stop the Third Regiment's advance.
One fortress after another fell silent under bazooka fire. Gradually, the Middle Eastern soldiers in the remaining fortresses began to despair. Some even attempted to flee. The scales of victory had clearly tipped toward the Eldian Third Regiment.
....
"Gabi! Watch out!"
Falco leapt forward, tackling Gabi to the ground. The next second, a shell exploded in front of their trench, dirt spraying all over Falco.
But after pushing Falco aside, Gabi didn't thank him. Instead, she scrambled up to the edge of the trench and stared ahead at the final three remaining large fortresses. They were the Middle Easterners' last strongholds—and the most heavily armed. Under the nearly airtight barrage of bullets, the Third Regiment struggled to advance even a single meter.
The enemy firepower was overwhelming—an absolute storm of bullets.
Seeing Gabi stick her head out of the trench, Falco's face turned pale. He hurried to pull her back.
"It's dangerous, Gabi! Get down! My brother said once we deliver the supplies, we go back immediately! Let's go!"
But Gabi didn't move. She stared at the three fortresses spitting tongues of machine-gun fire.
"I'm not going back! I'm going to prove myself! If we blow up the biggest fortress, we'll definitely be recognized!"
Falco was stunned.
"Are you crazy? Gabi, we can't do that! Leave it to the older soldiers—they have more experience! Let's go back!"
"No! I have to prove myself!"
Gabi jumped out of the trench and sprinted in the opposite direction from where they had come.
For a moment, Falco couldn't even react. It wasn't until their other two companions, Zofia and Udo, arrived that he snapped back to his senses.
Zofia: "Falco, what are you standing around for? Let's hurry back—hey, where's Gabi?"
Falco trembled as he pointed ahead.
"Gabi went that way..."
"Oh, that way? (°ㅂ°╬) Huh!?? What?"
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Pls Drop some Power Stones
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