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Page 105
"Fight! Drink up!—"
Two large-caliber machine guns, a pair of wire-guided grappling hooks, the whispering of a small machine gun beneath her chest, and her furiously swinging steel limbs—these combined to create Lilizia, a hysterical, humanoid steel hound. The flying bullet belts swept across the street like scythes, the retractable steel cables bit like wolf jaws, viciously attacking anyone who dared to peek out of a window, while her high-speed body and legs tore through everything in their path. The uncontrollably ferocious Gloucester was like a giant spider, a tarantula with a digging machine on every segment; wherever it touched, wherever it saw, enemies and those who stood in its way were crushed!
"Die!"
"Die!—"
The seasoned Soviet veterans either carelessly missed their weapons in front of this swift and ferocious beast, or were left with only their guns and had to cower to the side. Some of the bolder ones tried to throw a Molotov cocktail at it, only to be torn to shreds by this giant who seemed to be covered in eyes! The brave and warlike nation suddenly found itself bewildered by this mad giant who defied all understanding!
"It's you!—"
In the blink of an eye, Lilizia, filled with rage, stumbled and crashed into the back of the IS-2. The tank continued to advance, heading towards Angeli and the others' location.
"Stop right there, you bastard!—"
She continued trying to break through the tank's armor with the machine gun, but to no avail. The bullets that might have torn through the tracks were all wasted on the "giant rhinoceros's" tough hide. Helpless, Lilizia simply used the grappling hook, managing to hook the IS-2's gun barrel with a steel cable and try to pull it towards her.
"Come on! I'm right here! You think you can just watch me?!"
No one knew that Lilizia was currently in the cockpit, roaring with eyes glowing red. But her vehicle was like a naive young cowboy, holding one end of the reins while the other end was tied to the head of a mighty bull. The bull, not even bothering to look at her, kept the cannon barrel pointing forward, dragging the steel cable and Gloucester, who was trying to stop, pulling it forward relentlessly. The ground beneath the brand-new drive wheels was plowed into a deep groove.
"Second Lieutenant...First Lieutenant...I..."
Lilizia was already choking up, but she was becoming increasingly irrational. Her vehicle jumped in front of the tank like a madwoman, crouching down with its head pressed against the cannon barrel—she actually wanted to block the tank!
"Aa ...
The friction of the IS-2's tracks, mixed with the creaking of the Gloucester drive wheels, was like a rolling mill, slowly snapping the last thread of Lilizia's heartstrings as she roared in anger!
……
Just then, an explosion was heard, and the giant rhinoceros suddenly stopped moving forward...
Immediately afterwards, a brilliant spark appeared, and the sturdy steel body was engulfed in flames...
……
"Lieutenant Angelie, we are reinforcements from another direction. We have destroyed the tanks, and the enemy infantry are withdrawing from the town. What is your situation?"
"Ah, we're fine, you guys go after them."
"Ok."
As silence gradually fell, Angelie and Ypel drove the Gloucester out from the side, staring in astonishment at the sight before them—the IS-2's hull was completely engulfed in flames, and there were marks on the back of the turret where armor-piercing rounds had penetrated, causing the ammunition rack inside the tank to explode and engulf this terrifying rhinoceros.
Thick smoke was still billowing from the cannon barrel, which drooped downwards. Lilizia's black Gloucester, covered in the dust of the explosion, huddled in front of the tank like a dead stray cat—just below the muzzle of the cannon.
"Sergeant Lilizia!" There was no response over the radio. Angelie and Ypel anxiously opened the hatch and ran out, hurrying towards Lilizia's cockpit.
Just as they reached the hatch, they heard it open normally, and a girl dressed entirely in black, with lifeless eyes and a blank expression, crawled out as if she had lost her soul.
"Are you OK?"
Angelie and Ypel helped her up, asking her in unison, watching her messy, gray-white short hair sway in the gentle heat—the stains on her face, the tears in her clothes, and the exposed wounds and skin were less noticeable.
"What's wrong with you?" the two asked, puzzled. "Can you hear us?"
Lilizia seemed to ignore the two women. She slowly stood still, pushed them aside, and quietly, with a slight tremor, walked toward the wreckage of IS-2.
Angelie and Ypel were about to go up and help her, but they stopped. They watched quietly as the black afterimage walked to the tank, stiffly reached out, and gently touched the steel armor that was scorching hot from the flames. Then they raised their hands and touched the still upright cannon barrel.
The high temperature burned her gloved hands, but she didn't immediately pull them back. Instead, she slowly and shakily turned her hands towards her eyes.
After scrutinizing them for a long time, with blood at the corner of her mouth, she looked at Angelie and Ypel...
……
"This...is this...the 'giant rhinoceros'...?"
Before he could finish speaking, he went limp like a rag doll and collapsed onto the road wheels of the IS-2...
Chapter 104, Section 160: The Remains of the King of Beasts
For Britannia, it had been a turbulent night. The generals were worried that the Soviets might launch a night counterattack, and they were also concerned about whether their own troops, which had been assembled, could capture the town. But now things were alright. Day had broken, the town had been captured, and now the frontline troops probably just needed to hold the line, clean up the battlefield, and maybe get some more sleep.
However, catching up on sleep is definitely not a good way to get proper rest. This applies not only to the young men and women on the front lines, who have to be ready to respond to any possible sudden attacks, but also to the soldiers on the second lines. Sure enough, after only a few hours of relative calm, Berlin was once again subjected to a surprise bombing raid by Soviet aircraft at dawn.
"Damn it, you've already lost the siege lines and you still won't let go? Are you never going to stop?"
The one who uttered this complaint was Lieutenant Colonel Eddie Hill, who had just taken shelter in the building from the air raid. Watching the Soviet aircraft disappear into the distance, he grumbled inwardly. As for the KMFs that had just taken off to intercept them, either they hadn't even had time to climb high enough before the formation was already far away, or they were shot down by the escorting Soviet fighters as they took off first, and then they were actually taken up in the air…
"Sigh..." Helpless, he, a lieutenant colonel, could no longer offer any advice to the generals—as a staff officer of the army group, he could take over as many generals as Maren, but for the other three corps-level commanders, keeping quiet seemed more appropriate for him.
And so, amidst the inner turmoil and the debate in the command center, the lieutenant colonel walked back to that room in the Capitol.
……
"I'm starting to seriously question your methods now! Major General Marendo Barosya! We've captured Frizen, and we've destroyed quite a few Soviet tanks and a large number of enemy soldiers, but why! Why don't you agree with my approach! You were the one who eagerly led the charge, but now you're the one cowering and talking about tanks! Are you really that scared by those backward Soviet things?"
"How many KMFs did we lose to destroy tanks? Can you calculate that trade ratio for me, Admiral Windsor? Just last night, how many lives did we lose to destroy a 'Hippogriff' in town?"
"They were ambushed by infantry! Not all of them were destroyed by tanks!" The general was so excited that he almost lost his composure. "It was only the pilots' tactical miscalculation that led to their deaths! It wasn't all due to the hard work of those iron turtles!"
“I will not agree! The reason the Soviet army has been giving me a headache for ten days is precisely because of their combined tank and infantry tactics. My troops just can’t get a foothold! Whether in or outside Berlin! Your plan, as Duke Sasler and General Wood have said, is a losing proposition that will not be worth the investment!”
The generals seemed to be getting out of control, and Eddie Hill hesitated for a long time before finally speaking.
"Ah... Generals, I have just gathered some information. The number of civilians we have captured in our occupied territories in the east of the city is increasing. We need to make more space in the streets of Berlin and drive them toward the portal. In addition, the supply and logistics of the front-line troops have not been affected by the air raid. Only a small number of squadrons in the city were affected by the bombs."
"We understand, Lieutenant Colonel. So, what are you waiting for?"
"I understand..." He sighed, walked to a corner, and picked up his lidless wine flask.
"Looks like I'm going to be battling airstrikes for the next few days..." He thought about the bottle cap that had been blown apart during the attack by an Il-2 attack aircraft a few days ago, as he swallowed the bottle of rum and cola he had mixed himself.
"Any new information, soldier?" He walked behind the communications soldier, asking about the bits and pieces coming from the interface.
"Not yet, sir..."
"Huh?" This soldier must have a blessed mouth; he just said no, and then he received an urgent message.
"Hello! Calling command center!" The voice on the other end of the line was hesitant. "We are here..."
"Have you been attacked, soldiers?" Eddie Hill seemed a little overly cautious.
"No, no, we're responsible for searching the occupied territories, sir."
"Oh, oh? Oh, okay, is there something you need?"
"The generals had previously ordered us to search for any weapons or equipment the Soviets might have missed during last night's airborne operation, especially the 'Minotaur' tank. And just now, we found a tank in a crater created by one of our transport planes—a tank never mentioned in the intelligence, and its appearance doesn't match the Minotaur..."
"Tanks abandoned by the Soviet army?" Eddie Hill deliberately raised his voice and the radio to get the generals' attention. "Get them back for us to see right away."
“That’s what we wanted to do, sir. But… I remember we prepared a repair vehicle specifically for the command vehicle when we went through the portal, right?”
"What do you want, soldier?"
"Here's the thing, you might not believe it. We tried to pull this upside-down tank out of the crater, but to our surprise, it was too heavy! Just now! We used three 18-ton trucks and three KMFs to push and pull, but we still couldn't get this tank out of the crater!"
"What! Don't you dare make jokes like that, soldier!"
“I’m not lying to you, sir! The three trucks have broken down, and we’ve managed to get the KMF to wed a large rock under the tank, which is now hanging precariously in the crater! Could you please bring over that repair vehicle specifically for command vehicles to help us sort this out?”
"Get out! Don't try to fool me with this..." General Windsor angrily rebuked him, but the Duke ushered him away.
“Soldier, listen up. If what you say is true, provide the location immediately. We’ll get that big guy on the road now. I’ll be coming with a few generals.”
"Gentlemen? What are your thoughts?"
……
After confirming that the skies were safe, a convoy of infantry fighting vehicles and KMFs soon arrived at a dilapidated village. There were still many pieces of transport plane wreckage that the Britannian soldiers had not yet collected in the suburbs, which shone brightly in the morning sun like pieces of paper shredded from a paper shredder.
As for that large flatbed, it's actually used to tow the command vehicles—yes, those behemoths that are over 20 meters long and wide. Britannian generals always loved to sit inside them, like old men on their "thrones," directing the affairs of state. But here, there was no room for the command vehicles, so they had to bring over these trailers, which were less than half the size of the former but incredibly powerful.
The convoy stopped, and three generals stepped out of an infantry fighting vehicle. Lieutenant General Wood had stayed behind to oversee a potentially unexpected battle. Of the three who disembarked, Duke Sussler was there to inspect the scene, Marendor was there to learn more, still shaken, and Windsor wanted to see for himself just how sturdy the much-hyped Iron Turtle really was.
"Your Grace, Duke," a soldier reported.
"Where's the tank? Take us there."
"Yes!"
The three generals and their guards walked on the messy mud, looking at the chaos around them, and then at the three large trucks parked on the side of the road with steel cables trailing behind them—soldiers were crawling in front of the engines, busy repairing them.
“Look, Your Excellency, that’s it…”
The three of them looked up and slowed their pace...
……
They had seen tanks destroyed and overturned, but a tank so ferocious and imposing, overturned beside a shell crater, defied all common sense...
The vehicle's frontal armor is sloping and thick, with a bow machine gun on the right side, resembling a firing port on a concrete bunker. Above the driver and gunner, respectively, the hatches have been opened, and the periscopes are badly damaged, stuck to the hull like rotten seashells.
Looking at the turret again, the sides and top armor were already as mottled as an old, neglected cement wall, with peeling paint, patches of rust, and mud crawling all over it like geckos. The steel body rusted in this desolate scene, it really looked like a dying mammoth, exuding the smell of decay on its deathbed.
The only thing that could salvage some dignity for this remains was the long, sturdy gun barrel, which rested against the vertical frontal armor of the turret, supported by a gun shield resembling a water valve. A small hole flared on each side of the shield. Even so, this tank gun, which seemed to have once slaughtered countless enemies, had entered its twilight years. Dragged down by gravity, its overburdened traverse mechanism had caused the muzzle to droop into the mud and gravel, like a dying warrior awaiting its final moments before crashing to the earth and sinking into the yellow soil.
"Tsk tsk tsk..." The three generals couldn't help but sigh at the tank that looked like it had been abandoned for many days.
But just as they reached the chassis of the tank, at the very end of the overturned behemoth facing out of the crater, they suddenly realized that they had to start looking up—because the width of the tank looked as tall as two people, and looking at Sunderland standing guard nearby, the other end of the tank was actually the same height as KMF's chest!
And look at its incredibly layered road wheels! My goodness, before coming here, no one had ever seen tank road wheels like this—interlocking and double-layered, more intricate than the interlocking teeth of a gold comb on a noblewoman's dressing table. The road wheels, the massive chassis, together form the gaping maw of a great white shark, its teeth slathered with mud and withered leaves, ready to swallow all its silently observing creations—whether flesh and blood or cast in steel—in one gulp…
“It seems your report has some merit, soldier, but what you’ve shown me doesn’t prove anything.” Windsor clicked his tongue in front of the tank, his expression blank. “We’re not here to see how badly damaged or big a tank is; we’re here to find out if it’s really as heavy as you say!”
"Hey! You!" he called out to an infantryman carrying a rocket launcher, "Fire at the front of this tank!"
"Huh?" The soldier was taken aback. "Shoot down a tank? You want me to take it down?"
"Fire all your rockets, understand?"
"Yes, Your Excellency!"
After the generals withdrew, rockets exploded and burned one after another in front of the tank, but when the smoke cleared, all that happened was to paint a few white wildflowers on this solid armor.
"Oh? Interesting!" Admiral Windsor chuckled. "Find me a KMF with a recoilless rifle!"
"Hey! General, that's enough!" the Duke kindly reminded him.
"Hmph, what's there to be afraid of? If it gets damaged, we can just ignore this pile of scrap metal and send the 'lying' soldier away for disposal. If this thing is really that powerful, why would it be afraid of us attacking it a few more times?"
The Duke knew he couldn't persuade him, so he could only watch as another KMF came over.
"What ammunition do you have, sergeant?"
"We have both armor-piercing and high-explosive shells, sir!"
"Alright! Let's attack!"
"Ah... yes!"
KMF shells followed closely behind, bursting from the barrel. Amidst the whistling of the shells, the explosions slammed into the tank's frontal armor and turret like the hammer blows of a large drum. Mud flew everywhere like waves crashing on the shore, and the continuous stream of fire actually managed to "wash" away the rust and mud from the armor!
"General, what I need to do next..."
Just as the pilot was about to say something, he suddenly noticed that a large rock stuck under the tank was slowly loosening. Then, with a dull thud, the rock and the massive tank, like a giant anchor plunging into the deep sea, crashed into the center of the crater.
"Ah, all our work has been for nothing, General!" The soldier who had led them there looked dejected upon seeing the situation. "How are we going to drag it out now!"
Seeing this, Windsor didn't know what to say.
"Get the tow truck in place."
……
On that day, under the winter sun in Germany, Britannian soldiers wandering the streets of Berlin, either trembling in the shadows of buildings or stunned in the cockpit of a KMF, witnessed a tank, like a digging beast, covered in mud, being bitten onto its large flatbed by a trailer used for maintenance command vehicles.
Slowly, the tanks and trailers trembled, tormenting the earth beneath their wheels with a metallic screech. Accompanied by the eight KMF escorts, they carved a long scar across the still unpaved ground of Berlin, marching in a grand procession toward the Brandenburg Gate...
No one knew what a terrifying war machine the warriors outside the city had brought back, nor could they imagine where it would stir up trouble again in the future...
……
On that day, on the other side of the world, under the gloomy sky of Area 11, the citizens of the Tokyo Concession, once again under military traffic control, saw in the distance a huge truck carrying a massive object wrapped in canvas on an overpass, being escorted by the military and heading in an unknown direction.
Meanwhile, Clark, in a library on the top floor, spotted this group of "key protected individuals" using binoculars.
"Oh, look..." The cold sea breeze blew through the concrete jungle of the Tokyo Concession, making the canvas cling tightly to the object it was wrapped in, and the body that was being hidden was clearly outlined.
In an instant, Clark seemed to recognize this familiar stranger.