Chapter 662 - 411: Eerie Marching (2)

The significance of the minefield lies in delaying the rebel offensive to the greatest extent.

Faced with this carpet-laid minefield, if the rebels want to clear the mines, we can immediately cover them with artillery fire to ruthlessly bleed them dry.

If the rebels underestimate the density of the mines and forcefully charge through, it would play right into our hands. By the time they manage to reach the city with heavy casualties, their morale will likely be shattered.

At this moment, the battlefield has plunged into an eerie silence, with both sides temporarily not engaging in long-range fire due to distance, leaving only the synchronized marching sound of the black-clad warriors echoing.

"Boom—" At this point, the first loud bang erupted.

A rebel soldier at the forefront of the formation triggered a mine.

The high-explosive mine severed one of his legs, scattering fragments all around, leaving his body to fall to the ground like a broken doll.

The Capital Soldiers who witnessed this scene sneered coldly.

Mines, from a design perspective, are somewhat counterintuitive.

Many believe that weapons should be as powerful as possible, ideally able to instantly kill the enemy.

Actually, this is not the case.

If an anti-personnel mine is powerful enough to immediately kill a person, it is considered unqualified.

On the battlefield, severely wounding an enemy is far more useful than outright killing them.

If the enemy dies directly, their comrades can ignore the corpse and immediately engage in battle.

However, if the enemy becomes disabled, their comrades face a dilemma.

Rescue them?

The severely wounded will significantly drain logistical and medical resources, becoming a burden to the troops.

Furthermore, those who are disabled by the blasts, even if healed, will have no combat ability—it’s a loss no matter what.

Don’t rescue them?

What happens when other soldiers see their comrades abandoned without aid?

If you don’t save them today, might you not save me tomorrow?

Once this mindset spreads, at best, soldiers become apathetic, at worst, it incites mutiny.

This is a dilemma.

Therefore, over the past year, the World Government Army’s primary strategy against the Wolf Assault Army has been—if possible, do not kill.

Just incapacitate the enemy, disable them, then leave them there without a final blow, letting the rebels deal with their own troubles.

Now seeing a rebel soldier disabled by the mine, the Capital Soldiers found the explosion’s roar extremely pleasant.

"Boom—" Soon, a second loud bang sounded.

This time, the rebels triggered an anti-personnel steel ball mine, which shot up upon detonation, releasing 540 steel balls at waist and leg height.

A dozen rebel warriors around were affected, with the lightly injured having stomachs full of holes, while the severely injured had leg bones shattered by the steel balls, paralyzed on the spot.

"Boom, boom, boom, boom—"

The march continued, and the sound of mines exploding continued, with soldiers constantly falling while traversing the minefield, drawing cheers from the Capital garrison.

Yet as they cheered, they gradually noticed something amiss.

"Boom!"

Following another loud explosion, another soldier stepped on a mine, the explosion’s flame engulfing his lower limbs, his right leg bursting open.

But this horrific scene flashed before others’ eyes, the entire team not halted, the soldiers continued advancing with steady steps, showing no panic or fear.

Those soldiers wounded by the mines received no aid, their comrades didn’t even glance at them, as if they were mere roadside stones, irrelevant to themselves.

Moreover, the injured soldiers made extremely shocking moves; those who could stand did so on one leg, hopping forward, and those with both legs severed used their arms against the ground, crawling forward piece by piece.

"Such astonishing will to fight." Seeing this scene, Lu Yangming frowned.

He’s not unfamiliar with soldiers continuing to fight while disabled.

This type of person often harbors steadfast beliefs in their hearts, valuing ideals above all else.

The rebel command actually sent these people ahead to probe mines with themselves as the first wave. Is there something wrong with their command’s brains?

"Boom, boom, boom, boom—"

The mine striking continued, rebels were repeatedly blasted with limbs flying, the situation exceedingly tragic.

The enemy’s mine triggers were certainly a cause for joy, yet the Capital garrison slowly couldn’t smile anymore.

For they noticed the enemy seemed overly rational, rational to a somewhat bizarre degree.

Once realizing the team entered the minefield, rebel soldiers naturally formed into tiny linear groups, advancing in columns.

This formation ensures those behind step on places touched by comrades in front, crossing the minefield with minimal contact.

Those in front that triggered mines, as long as they didn’t die, would drag their crippled bodies forward, probing mines until completely blasted dead.

Should those in front die, those behind immediately filled their spots, continued probing mines, recycling repetitively.

This bizarre scene shocked the Capital garrison; they utterly failed to understand, how can these rebels so disregard their lives?

More terrifying, throughout the process, not a single sound was heard!

No screams.

No wails.

No desperate cries before death.

Only silence.

Everyone proceeded without hesitation toward Hell, ignoring casualties and life, leaving only deathly silence.

Unnoticingly, the rebel forces had already pushed over a hundred meters through the minefield, costing hundreds of soldiers, equivalent to several companies wiped out.

Yet the mad death march continued.

Now, Lu Yangming indeed sensed something wrong.

With tens of years in the military, he had led countless excellent warriors and witnessed numerous elite troops.

Even those within megacorporations, the most loyal, trained nearly to fanaticism top-notch elites couldn’t march like this.

A person, after all, is not a machine; as long as someone is human, they have emotions, private desires.

Who willingly becomes someone else’s cannon fodder?

If one can live well, who would want to die?

Yet these rebels are different, akin to cold-blooded animals, each maximizing their life’s efficiency, probing mines with their bodies amid the vast minefield, ensuring they die worthwhile.

The eerie scene prompted beads of cold sweat on Lu Yangming’s forehead, he sternly commanded: "Cover the rebels with artillery, eliminate their vanguard."

The order swiftly relayed, the fortress cannons on the city wall, as well as artillery units stationed behind the position, activated.

Alongside deafening roars, countless light dots rose from the Capital City, like meteors piercing the sky, bombarding heavily into the rebel vanguard.

Simultaneously, the fortress cannons flashed energy arcs, high-energy beams swept carnage across the battlefield, all touched human bodies instantly reduced to dust.

The smoke from the bombing spread across the battlefield, visibility dropping to its lowest, making it difficult to discern enemy movements.

Still, the Capital garrison believed the rebels were surely defeated.

In modern warfare, casualty rates exceeding 30% roughly equate to loss of combat capacity.

With such scale of bombardment, it’s questionable if out of ten surviving more than two.

Even if someone survived the rebel vanguard, the overall structure fell apart, bound to be unrest within the troops.

As time passed, the explosive wind surged over the battlefield, smoke gradually dispersed, revealing the battlefield’s true appearance.

The Capital garrison’s convictions crumbled along with it.

This round of bombardment indeed gave the rebel vanguard severe casualties, various body parts strewn about, reducing numbers sharply by 80%.

The death march, however, continued.

The rebel soldiers seemed unaffected, confronting the recent bombing without fluctuations, neither feeling sorrow for companions’ deaths nor caring for their own fate.

Many bodies had shrapnel lodged throughout from shell explosions, even several torso sections blasted away, yet continued expressionlessly forward as if only orders remained in consciousness besides nothing else.

"What kind of monsters are these..." Lu Yangming’s trembling voice voiced every Capital Soldier’s thought.