Land of Grass, deep in the Black Forest.
Sato stood inside the hastily erected command post, staring at the ever-expanding red area on the map with a deeply furrowed brow. In just one week, the Resistance Army had tripled in size, swelling from its original three hundred to nearly a thousand. Countless oppressed civilians from the Land of Grass had flooded into the forest with their families in tow, hoes over their shoulders and a yearning for "Defender" rifles in their hearts.
"This isn't right." Liao wiped down the Heavy Bolter in his hands. The smell of gunpowder from the previous battle still clung to its barrel. "Things are going too smoothly. I'm not used to it."
His brows drew tight. His long life as a slave had taught him one thing: life would never keep giving you sweetness. Hardship always occupied most of it.
Sato nodded, his finger tracing the Iwagakure supply line on the map. "Kitsuchi isn't an idiot. We burned their granaries, but Iwagakure's withdrawal these past two days has been too thorough. They abandoned every outlying position. Even when we put our gun barrels right against their faces, they only hunker down and refuse to come out."
"They're holding back something big." Liao's voice was cold. "Like a tiger before the hunt. It lowers its body so it can pounce farther."
Just then, the ground suddenly trembled.
It wasn't the shock wave of an explosion, but a deep rumble rising from far below the earth.
The water cup on the table toppled over, and the map was shaken to the ground. Outside the command post, the refugees let out terrified screams.
"An earthquake?" Sato braced himself against the table.
"No." Liao charged out of the tent, his pupils contracting sharply.
At the edge of his vision,