Charge

Modor ran his hand over the crystal saber in his hand. The icy scales and the scorching blade met, almost burning his flesh. However, the Great Chieftain felt the pain but didn't find it unbearable. He felt the power of his ancestors flowing into his body with that burning sensation.

This saber was forged from the tribe's most treasured artifact, the legendary "Fire Scale Blade," and high-carbon crystal from an alien planet. Thus, Modor named it "Fire Scale Blade · Strong."

It couldn't be helped. As the most valiant tribal chieftain among the Sandfolk, he hadn't read many books. We should be understanding.

Furthermore, the so-called tribal treasure "Fire Scale Blade" was actually a naturally formed large piece of iron containing fragments of obsidian, but Chief Modor adamantly denied this claim.

This is a treasure bestowed by the gods and ancestral spirits upon the Sandfolk, upon the Red Lake Tribe! It represents the courage and glory of the Sandfolk! It is destined to become a divine artifact for the common ruler of all Sandfolk.

The common ruler of the Sandfolk... What a glorious goal! What a sacred future! What a brilliant moment! It will be the era of the Sandfolk! And I will lead this era!

Modor felt a heat surge within him, as if the burning sensation had traveled from his hand into his body. He knew he was getting a little carried away, but he also knew that once he took the human city before him, all of the above would no longer be just a dream.

"Are you ready? My warriors?" the Great Chieftain roared, mounted on a super-large spear-mouthed Raptor.

"For Nuwa!" the Sandfolk knights, er, and the War Chariot crews mixed among the Swift Dragon riders, roared, raising their rifles and spears.

The Great Chieftain looked with satisfaction at the Tanks, and also with satisfaction at the bulletproof armor on his elite guards, the "Blood Lake Guards." Although he hated Earthlings, hated all humanoid creatures, and even hated all extraterrestrial visitors, he had to admit that their weapons were truly good. It was precisely because he now had twenty Tanks, five thousand elite soldiers armed with rifles and crystal sabers, and one thousand elite "Blood Lake Guards" whose riders and mounts were both equipped with alien defensive armor, that he had the standing to speak at the Lord's Conference and the confidence to directly attack Tulon Port.

Those scale-less, short-nosed monkeys were just relying on their superior ships and firepower! Now that I have their weapons, why should I wait for those cowardly trash settled in the city-states to prepare?

I will wash this human city with blood! Let their skulls become the steps of my throne!

The Great Chieftain adjusted his custom defensive armor again, and then looked at his young son, Tutu, beside him. The Sandfolk youth was clad in red armor, his face obscured. He carried a spear on his back and held a long-handled saber in his hand, yet he was trembling slightly.

"Are you afraid? My son..." Modor said.

"Fa-father, no, I dare not, I..."

"Learn the first lesson, my son. Learn to overcome fear on the battlefield. You only need one living human. Bite his neck with your own teeth, drink his blood, eat him! Then you will be fearless! You will conquer your enemies, conquer your fear!" The chieftain patted his son's shoulder, then ignored him, and rode his dragon back to the front lines. Raising his divine sword to the sky, he shouted to everyone, "Today, we shall make soup with human blood! Ravage them! Warriors of Nuwa!"

Sandfolk riding Raptors, mixed with roaring Tanks, began to accelerate. Not only was Modor, the Great Chieftain, a top-tier powerhouse among the "Tribal Faction," but over ten other Sandfolk tribes also launched their charges with over a hundred thousand riders, forming a flood that surged towards the four sides of Tulon Port.

Of course, how much chaos there was among them is truly unknown. The attack times were not synchronized. Tribe A's soldiers blocked Tribe B's advance. Tribe C and Tribe D ran into each other while advancing and got lost. Sandfolk on dragonback fired warning shots but killed their own people. Tanks advanced and crushed nearby cavalry. All of the above happened countless times. But no matter what, after more than ten minutes of charging, Great Chieftain Modor, with his son and a small escort, finally reached the walls of Tulon and saw the hemispherical light barrier enveloping the entire city.

At this point, he couldn't even find his own subcommanders, but the chieftain wasn't worried at all. After all, weren't there armed tribesmen all around him?

We have more warriors alone than all the humans in the city. How could we possibly lose? Just charge in!

The Great Chieftain continued to rally them: "Charge in! Charge in!" He did not fear the light barrier that could withstand the bombardment of a Tank's main cannon. The Sandfolk collaborators had said that such a shield couldn't stop people; they just needed to pass through it.

"Pass through that light barrier, and then open fire!" the Great Chieftain roared at a War Chariot beside him.

The War Chariot began to advance, its turret twisting as it searched for a target. However, it didn't find a target. Instead, with a "Duang" sound, its cannon barrel collided with Great Chieftain Modor, who was riding the tallest and largest target.

The Great Chieftain lay on the ground, battered and terrified, but more than anything, he was completely stunned, unable to think. As for the other riders, including Tutu himself, they were all dumbfounded. The War Chariot, oblivious, continued to advance.

Infantry-tank cooperation is a technical skill, but many people just don't understand this principle.

"Boom! Boom!" The War Chariot was pierced by an anti-tank missile that came from who knows where, exploding into a ball of fire.

The Sandfolk continued to be stunned until they were torn to shreds by concentrated firepower.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!" The city's various defensive firepowers also began to unleash their might, creating various explosions within the dense enemy formations. Every bloom of flame turned more than ten Sandfolk warriors into dust.

Tutu's Swift Dragon was dead. It took him a long time to crawl out from under the heavy corpse, and then he crawled to his father's side. He propped up his father's upper body and found that he truly only had an upper body left. He froze as if electrocuted.

Modor mustered his last strength, thrust the "Fire Scale Blade · Strong" into his son's hand, and reached out, his hand trembling as he gently tapped his son's forehead.

"Fight, for Nuwa..." the Great Chieftain uttered his last words and died.

Tutu sat there blankly, holding his father's upper body. Explosions erupted around him, and energy and physical bullets whizzed past him, yet miraculously, none of them harmed him.

After a while, he slowly came back to his senses, and with trembling hands, closed his father's eyelids. He held the "Fire Scale Blade · Strong," his face filled with grief and indignation, and stared at his father's corpse on the spot. A few minutes later, he withdrew his gaze and looked at Tulon City with rage. Under the semi-transparent light barrier, the city's outline, the flashes of artillery, and the enemy's positions were unclear. He could only see points of light flashing, followed by the sound of air being torn apart and soaring explosions, as if the bloodthirsty eyes of terrifying beasts hidden in the shadows were relentlessly devouring the lives of the Sandfolk.

The chieftain's son picked up his father's sword, casually grabbed a riderless Swift Dragon, let out a furious roar, then mounted the dragon and fled in the opposite direction of Tulon at top speed.

He didn't even return to the main camp. He completely abandoned the battlefield and fled into the vast desert.

Tutu was not the first Sandfolk to flee, so he did not attract attention.

The collapse of over a hundred thousand riders almost caused a total rout of the entire army. Fortunately, Great Elder Hessen had made preparations and sent his most trusted disciples. The famous Wind Fist, an Awakened one considered a god of war by the Sandfolk, appeared before the fleeing soldiers, conjuring a vortex with his fists that sucked dozens of fleeing Sandfolk together, churning them into a bloody mess.

However, even with psionics present, it took the various Sandfolk lords a day and a night to finally stabilize their forces. By this time, even the most radical chieftain knew that without heavy artillery, even a million more troops would be useless against that human city.

The Sandfolk army retreated cautiously and set up camp, not daring to make any further moves for the time being.

Lieutenant Colonel Eleanor Bonaparte, who had just achieved a glorious victory in defending the city, did not feel particularly happy. She was filled with anger towards the standard city defense system.

"Why is it that once the city shield is activated, those four heavy Ion Cannons can't fire? Because of insufficient battery power? Ha, Pasun? Isn't this guy in the home appliance business? Can he also produce military batteries? Ah, because he paid sponsorship to the Governor's Mansion? If you said something like that in the Navy, do you think you wouldn't be shot!"

"Why are those four fortress laser cannons only capable of anti-air? Who designed this? What, the Alliance's Northern Star Arms Factory? Oh, a land-and-air dual-use design would cost at least a third more? So they bought ones that can only target the sky?"

Eleanor sighed to the heavens, speechless, and didn't want to show a good face to anyone. She simply sat in her office, sulking.

"Major... Officer, I have good news." Major Dorset entered. Seeing the young lady's unhappy expression, he quickly changed his address.

"If you're here to congratulate me on my victory, then don't bother speaking," Eleanor replied indifferently, continuing to play with her whip.

"However, it's not that. And it's two pieces of good news!"

"Oh?" Eleanor showed a flicker of interest and looked at him.

"We have already made contact with Captain Winter of the Parachute Division. He and his subordinates have arrived at New Jade Gate!"

Eleanor's eyes lit up, and she stood up, but then she seemed to think of something and her brow furrowed: "Captain Winter? Only one company?"

How much more do you want? An entire division? Major Dorset pretended not to hear and continued, "Also, Captain Winter said that he has also made contact with the remaining soldiers at Guard Post 12!"

Eleanor's eyes truly began to shine this time. With a smile, she brushed past the Major and rushed towards the communications room.