"What is that?!"
The guard captain's eyes widened. In the next instant, the giant had already appeared before him.
"Att—"
Before he could finish speaking, he was sent flying. After tumbling several tis, he landed and died from the impact.
Thierry stepped down from the carriage just in ti to see Nareth charge forward, crashing through the security troops and creating a wide corridor. Everyone in his direct path was killed instantly, while those nearby were blown away by the shockwave.
His pupils contracted; only now did he realize that Nareth's strength was even more terrifying than he had imagined.
"He's like a god of war from the Old Myths. If he hadn't wanted to recruit , I wouldn't even have had a chance to fight, I'd be a bloody sar on the ground."
Thierry no longer had the slightest doubt about Nareth. This work cycle would mark the Mad King's downfall.
"A monster!"
"It's a god descended to punish the Mad King!"
"..."
The guards' morale collapsed. They shouted and fled in panic.
"Take to Puhachi's Spire," Nareth said to Thierry, ignoring the chaos.
"My lord, the station is only 25.4 kiloters from the Mad King's spire. Please follow ."
Three kiloters in, the group encountered resistance from the capital's security force.
With his superhuman senses, Nareth assessed the entire force: 4,100 n, more than the number in Tizca, and better equipped, with one support vehicle per hundred n.
"This Puhachi might be mad, but he's way more generous than Boleslaw. These vehicles may not be much in open warfare, but in the capital, they're powerful riot control units."
A problem. Only Thierry and Raslov wore exoskeleton armor. The rest would surely suffer under heavy gunfire.
Nareth converted all variables, numbers, firepower, and terrain into paraters and fed them into his ntal model to form a battle plan.
"The 7th, 8th, 9th, and 10th companies, along with Thierry's forces, will attack from the left flank. The other six companies will strike from the right."
Other than Roslov and a few elites, the Vostroya 1st Regint, composed of gang mbers and upper hive workers, was less experienced than Thierry's battle-hardened squad.
Assigning the four rookie companies to the left evened the power balance.
The six veteran companies on the right had stronger cohesion and coordination, making them less compatible with new troops.
Nareth then charged into the enemy ranks, intending to draw their heavy fire, especially from the machine guns.
The garrison commander was shocked to see the giant charging in and flinging a support vehicle with one swing of his massive halberd.
Seeing Nareth head straight for him, he yelled, "Attack! Concentrate fire! Aim for the monster. Shoot!"
Thousands raised their weapons toward Nareth.
He swung his halberd again, smashing another support vehicle five ters ahead. Then he swept to both sides, the enemy soldiers didn't even have ti to react before their upper bodies exploded in a flurry of blasts.
"Advance! Attack!" Roslov shouted, already expecting this, and gave the attack order.
Under pressure from the captains and veteran soldiers, even the rookie companies began to move.
The soldiers of the new 4th company stood dazed for a mont before snapping back to their senses.
Thierry was briefly stunned too: 'When had battle ever looked like this?'
'Against Nareth, do tactics even matter? And all those years I spent training in swordsmanship — what's the point?'
Only when bullets bounced harmlessly off his exo-armor did he snap back. He glanced at Nareth charging ahead and gave the order:
"Attack!"
There was a slight bitterness in his voice. In the past, his followers would've noticed his unusual tone. But now, everyone's attention was fixated on the towering figure before them.
Nareth advanced steadily, all while monitoring both flanks.
The veterans on the right worked in perfect coordination, morale high under Roslov's command.
Bukayo prowled alone along the edge of the formation, using a silenced las pistol to destroy floodlights. He moved through shadows, unnoticed. Each ti he appeared, an enemy commander died, throwing the troops into deeper chaos.
Thierry was sowhat distracted, but remained the strongest fighter on the left flank apart from Nareth.
The soldiers of the Vieira family burned with vengeance in their eyes, far outmatching the rookies beside them.
The new recruits, though initially confused, found their footing after so shouted orders from commanders.
Nareth had drawn the brunt of enemy fire, giving the others breathing room against scattered resistance.
The 7th company, which had captured the train station, perford especially well.
In particular, Nareth focused on Szczesny, who not only had flawless aim but also a natural grasp of battlefield command. He shouted orders to his team and coordinated with nearby squads.
"Sandormirski, push forward! Take out that bastard at your 11 o'clock!"
"Wawrzyniak, get back here and hold the line!"
"Wasilewski, I'll draw their fire, flank them from the side!"
...
Nareth turned his attention forward. He had made a decision: Szczesny would be trained as a "Sailor."
Thierry was a natural "Warrior," with potential far beyond Roslov, but his loyalty still needed testing.
Nareth spotted the panicked enemy commander fleeing ahead, then broke into a run.
After five long strides, he leaped high into the air.
He stomped on a support vehicle mid-air and launched himself again.
"Step on it! I said floor it, damn it!" the Lukevo Garrison commander scread at the driver in terror.
But the next mont, he felt a shadow fall over him. He looked up in horror, and his final thought was:
"I'm done for."
Nareth crashed into the command vehicle, crushing the commander into pulp. He felt his energy grow more agile and his body lighter. He knew that his "Barbarian" power had reached a new level of digestion.
The security troops collapsed entirely. They dropped their weapons and scattered.
The battlefield was cleared in ten standard minutes.
The Vostroya 1st Regint captured three support vehicles; the Vieira family's forces took two. Ammunition was restocked.
Thierry boarded a support vehicle, leading the way three ters ahead and to Nareth's left.
Piontkowski Family's Spire
The tal-clad Puhachi, not a scrap of flesh left on his body, every step clanking like steel, entered the palace.
Everyone lowered their heads imdiately, especially the nobles whose incomplete augntations had begun to fail, their vision flickering with ghostly double images.
"The Mad King can't see , the Mad King can't see …" they repeated in their minds.
Puhachi sat on the Iron Throne, raising his right arm, the chanical claw pointing at a red-robed figure who concealed his legs under cloth.
"Muravsky, I already sent Mirzeyevski's troops to intercept. Why are you disturbing my experint?"
At the word "experint," everyone present visibly flinched.
"My king, I beg your forgiveness. But the enemy attacking the upper hive is not only Thierry Vieira the traitor, there's a monster."
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