The soldiers looked like ordinary people, but the moment they stepped into the river, their bodies twisted and swelled rapidly, as though they were soaking up water. Glittering ice spread from around them, soon joining into a single sheet that rose above the surface and formed a broad bridge along the remaining piers.
At the same time, the artillerymen at the front twisted into monsters and wrapped themselves around their cannons. They took on bizarre shapes: some resembled eight-legged spiders, others caterpillars or beetles. Carrying the cannons in different ways, they advanced across the ice bridge like a column of grotesque tanks.
The human troops on the opposite bank stared in disbelief. They had thought these were merely ordinary Rebels, never expecting to face anything so strange.
The force sent to block them was no elite unit, just a local garrison. It could handle Rebels and rioters, but it had little stomach for a real fight. The "monster tanks" were huge and hideous, like demons from a nightmare. The defenders' morale collapsed at once. Some recruits trembled so badly that their rifles slipped from their hands and fell to the ground.
The commander had not expected this either. His face hardened, his brow knotted, and he muttered, "Damn it. That bastard never said the enemy would be monsters!"
"What do we do, sir?" an aide asked quietly, his voice trembling with fear.
The commander glanced at the soldiers nearby. They were his guards, the closest thing he had to an elite force, and even they were badly shaken. The ordinary soldiers would be worse. He knew exactly what his men were capable of. He also knew how much pay he had pocketed for soldiers who existed only on paper, while training had been sporadic at best. Expect them to fight