The rain of fire filling the sky was like a river of stars falling from the highest heavens.
The rainwater on the ground evaporated, steel melted, and the earth was scorched black.
Before that deadly heat, no living thing could survive.
Not even the red soil.
It was a more direct form of harm than radioactive dust.
Gazing at the burning land ahead, Wulf, commander of the 36th Ten-Thousand-Man Corps, narrowed his eyes slightly. The corner of his mouth involuntarily curled into a smile, only for it to quickly fade.
Even though he had no doubt that the Southern Legion would eventually claim final victory, it was difficult to describe the battle before him as a victory.
Facing the combined encirclement of three Ten-Thousand-Man Corps, their enemy had actually endured staggering casualties and cut off their supply lines.
More critically, this had only been a single Alliance armored thousand-man unit!
Even if its numbers were somewhat larger, it could at most be called a "reinforced formation." There was no way it could have reached the establishment of a Ten-Thousand-Man Corps.
No matter how the Triumph Daily polished their wording, the battle report could hardly lie.
And it was hard to say whether the Triumph Daily would help them as it had before.
After all, this time was different. They had offended too many people; even their allies in the east were not entirely on their side.
Still, so be it.
He consoled himself inwardly. So long as they achieved ultimate victory, all those who only appeared united would come around.
But how much longer until victory?
This was only the beginning.
Who knew what else awaited them ahead?
Watching the flames gradually die down, the staff officer seated beside him tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"...It's finally over."