The rain poured down in torrents.
In a mountain hollow five kilometers south of Pine Forest Valley, tanks rolled one after another through the gates. Surrounded by marauder infantry, they hurried toward the southern front.
According to Dillon's battle plan, they would strike the New Alliance's defenses under cover of the rain.
When the time came, the New Alliance's planes would surely risk everything to attack their armored formations. But with the torrential rain interfering, those few aircraft were nothing to fear.
Quad-mounted anti-aircraft guns had already been aimed at the sky, whether they were 7mm or 12mm.
Opening the hatch, Bagro poked half his body out from the tank turret. The gunner sitting at his feet immediately complained.
"Hey, you're letting rainwater in!"
"A little water won't hurt..."
Ignoring him, Bagro raised his binoculars and scanned the southern sky, several furrows creasing his brow.
"I've got a bad feeling about this."
It was too bright in the distance.
Though he couldn't say exactly what was wrong, it just didn't feel like ordinary rain.
"What could be wrong?" the driver said with a laugh. "As long as we roll over their trenches, they'll scatter like cockroaches from a sewer."
"If only it were that simple." Bagro gave a humorless chuckle and ducked back into the tank.
On second thought, perhaps that was true.
So what if the enemy had some trick up their sleeve?
Before tank treads, any plot or scheme was a joke.
Bagro took down the radio hanging inside the turret and shouted to the other tanks in the formation.
"Advance faster!"
"Before the rain ends, we need to cover our infantry as they storm their high ground!"
The tanks of the Fang Clan were generally commanded by Legion tankers, while trained marauders served as drivers, gunners, and