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Chapter 348 - Chapter 345: A One-Sided Battle

Under the onslaught of the Wyverns' dragonfire, the soldiers could only watch helplessly as their comrades were transformed into pillars of flame, eventually reduced to ash by the intense heat.

Even the specialized weapons designed to capture the beasts succumbed to the scorching temperatures, melting into pools of molten iron that flowed sluggishly across the ground. Some soldiers accidentally fell into the red liquid, letting out blood-curdling screams. In an instant, the entire camp fell into chaos, and any hope of organizing an effective defense vanished.

"Maintain order! Maintain order! Everyone get into the shelters! Do not come out without orders!"

Seeing the troops scurrying like headless flies, a few surviving officers struggled to command soldiers whose morale was already shattered. They had, of course, prepared for failure by digging numerous bunkers near the camp to defend against fire attacks. These shelters typically led deep underground—no matter how powerful a beast might be, surely it couldn't burn a hole through the very earth itself?

Once the hatches were sealed, they would be in an underground fortress! They even believed they could use these subterranean facilities to launch surprise counterattacks against the damned Infected.

That was their plan, and they acted on it. Unfortunately, to ensure the security of the underground network, the tunnels and shafts they had dug were incredibly complex. This meant there wasn't a single area large enough to hold all the soldiers; only a small portion of the personal guard and elite troops could evacuate with the officers. The rest were left on the surface to wait for death.

The sudden catastrophe at the center of the camp terrified the surrounding soldiers. Watching the dragons dive and soar once more, their legs shook with such tremors that they were on the verge of fleeing. To them, the silhouettes of the dragons were like the scythe of the Grim Reaper. No one knew which unfortunate area would be the target of the next strike.

Who are we even fighting? Didn't they say this was just a group of Infected so poor they couldn't even afford to eat, along with some domesticated beasts?

Then what are these monsters? You call these high-mobility aerial creatures "beasts"? This is a f*cking—[Ursus Profanity]—monstrosity!

At that moment, the soldiers wished they could take their size 45 boots and shove them into the size 42 face of the scout who had provided the intelligence, before giving him a hard kick in the ass.

But they had no time for such thoughts. They stared at the sky with eyes full of terror, waiting for the opponent to pronounce who would be the next to die. This dread was worse than death itself! Because everything was unknown, the fear slowly coiled around them, devouring whatever remained of their sanity.

Finally, some whose mental fortitude could no longer take it collapsed under the weight of the fear. They let out guttural roars and fired their crossbows incessantly at the dragons above. But what use was it? The bolts fell back to earth before they had traveled any distance, leaving only their screams to echo and mix into the cacophony of the battlefield.

"They're attacking again! Hide!"

Just then, fireballs began to coalesce in the maws of the Wyverns. They spat them toward a specific section of the camp simultaneously, like falling stars crashing into the earth. The onlookers saw streaks of light cut through the sky, followed by a violent explosion in the supply area at the rear of the camp. A plume of dust and smoke billowed into the sky, blanketing the entire region.

"That was... the supply area, wasn't it? I remember there were drones and bombs stored in there."

One soldier muttered to himself as he watched the explosion. A moment later, as if remembering something, he frantically pulled an airtight protective mask over his face. Everything in that area was made of Originium; an explosion like that would have sent shards and dust flying everywhere! He didn't want to become an Infected right before he died.

"Look over there! It looks like the Infected are charging us!" a sentry on a watchpost shouted, pointing toward the distance where a group of Infected had emerged to launch their assault.

This was the charge of the Reunion movement, triggered by the sound of the explosions. Normally, a charge across such a distance would make the Infected sitting ducks for the soldiers' long-range fire. Many would have been cut down.

But now? Most of the long-range ballista platforms had been destroyed. And the soldiers remaining on the surface? When they saw the Infected, they looked at them as if they were seeing their saviors! How could they possibly shoot?

Thus, the Reunion members witnessed a truly bizarre sight: the Ursus soldiers armed with long-range weapons actually looked joyful upon seeing them. They casually slung their weapons behind their backs, abandoned their easily defensible camp, and charged toward the Infected with melee weapons as if their lives depended on it.

Their eyes were bloodshot, as if they had gone mad with bloodlust. Many of the Reunion members were genuinely startled by this behavior. Have these people lost their minds? Abandoning a fortified camp to fight us face-to-face? Is there some hidden, dark conspiracy at play here?

But for the soldiers, it wasn't like that at all. The arrival of the Infected was like a heaven-sent rain in a drought. Staying in the camp meant they could be incinerated at any moment by a giant fireball from above!

The Infected were different. They couldn't deal with Wyverns, but couldn't they deal with Infected? They were all humans; how much of a gap could there be? More importantly, they were gambling that the person controlling the dragons wouldn't be so insane as to burn their own allies along with the enemy!

As long as the opponent wouldn't hit their own teammates just to kill them, the soldiers had a chance to escape in the chaos! They still had a hope of living! In this moment, the Ursus soldiers exerted every ounce of their skill. They had never felt so grateful to these Infected; they were practically their saviors.

In the sky, Jeanne continued to direct the Wyverns to attack the enemies on the ground. However, just as the soldiers suspected, she watched the mob rushing toward her main force and refrained from attacking. She wasn't crazy enough to strike her own comrades just to take out those soldiers.

Furthermore, Jeanne didn't believe those soldiers had much of a chance of gaining an advantage over the Reunion force. While the main army didn't have flying dragons, there were plenty of others within their ranks who could be called "monsters."

However, it wasn't as if Jeanne had nothing left to do. There were still many people hiding in the corners of the camp, waiting for them to enter. Most were too far away to join the charge, or their legs had simply turned to jelly. They were trying to use vehicles and other cover to evade the sight of Jeanne and her Wyverns.

Though they weren't many, they were hiding in spots that were difficult to attack. If Jeanne didn't deal with them, it would cause trouble when the rest of the army moved in.

"It feels like this battle is a joke. I feel like I could wipe them all out myself without anyone else helping."

Jeanne watched the battle below, playing a deadly game of "Whack-a-Mole" with those trying to hide. With every violent explosion she directed, more enemies were blown to pieces.

"Hoh, they were quite well-prepared with weapons. Did they anticipate losing and store these here in advance? Even after we've seized so many of their things, they still have more."

The "seizure" Jeanne referred to involved the weapons that had been collected in a central area. The fireballs hadn't destroyed them all; instead, the explosions had knocked them into the tunnels that had been dug beforehand.

These were high-quality goods that couldn't be bought on the open market. Previously, Reunion had no way of obtaining such equipment. To blow it all up would be too extravagant; Jeanne couldn't bear the waste. If they fell into Reunion's hands and were used sparingly, they could last for at least a year or two. Since it belonged to the enemy, she simply considered it a gift!

Flying high above, Jeanne looked down at the camp's structures and wondered to herself: I wonder if the others have succeeded in rescuing the Infected?

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