radicalducati Page 176
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"No rush," Casalos shook his head. "Let them figure it out themselves."
39.Sliding shovel
Find a way on your own? Storm Silverhand gripped the hilt of his sword, wishing he could jump up and deliver a fatal blow to the ruthless Iron Dragon.
How can a group of infantry contend with these giant spider-like demons covered in thick armor? In the past, when faced with attacks of this kind, which were mainly composed of heavily armored groups, Iteno's main tactic was to send out swarms of dragons for air strikes. Even if the abyssal demons mixed a large number of flying demons to contain the swarms of dragons and half-dragons, they would still mobilize heavy constructs to confront them head-on.
Sending new infantrymen to face three thousand Spider Hunters alone was unprecedented, and when things went wrong, Casalos didn't even consider sending in the reserves.
"All troops, listen to my command!" Gomez suddenly shouted. "Lower the shields, mount the sledges!"
The shield-bearing warriors roared in unison and brought down the massive tower shield with a deafening crash.
"What are they trying to do?!" Storm Silverhand jumped to his feet. "Without the Shield Wall, the construct armor won't protect them for long!"
Casalos didn't answer Storm Silverhand's foolish question—this was, after all, a practical test of a new tactic. It was a tactic conceived by frontline officer Gomez based on his experience with frontline infantry combat, which had been theoretically proven to be feasible, and had undergone multiple simulations in the training grounds, as well as live-fire exercises in a simulated illusion scenario. It was specifically designed for infantry to fight against large, heavily armored demons.
As for why new recruits were chosen, the reason is quite simple.
Mental inertia is a very dangerous thing. After this period of fierce fighting, the veterans of Innot have basically become completely accustomed to defensive combat modes in environments with strong denial and air superiority, making it difficult for them to accept new tactics and methods. A sufficiently convincing victory and example are needed to get them to accept new tactical concepts.
Casalos could certainly enforce its adoption, given that the core and junior officers on the Iteno front are mostly half-dragons, the Deepwater Army and the Silvermoon Federation have a long-standing cooperative relationship, and the Silvermoon Federation has a very high level of trust in the Deepwater Army. Furthermore, the Celestial or Angelic armies, which Casalos cannot forcibly influence, are all flying units, completely unrelated to infantry. The problem is, it cannot remain here indefinitely, relying on its new Supreme Dragon's prestige and the fanaticism of the half-dragon vein creatures to maintain the stability of its command structure. What it needs are warriors willing to experiment and break through.
The battles of the future will not rely solely on the defense of the Maze. The armies of the Prime Material Plane must use Itno as an outpost and venture deep into the heart of the Abyss to wage war; that is true exploration.
The command structure of the Itno Expeditionary Force must develop into a comprehensive system capable of rapidly adapting to the endless environmental changes of the virtually infinite depths of the Invincible Abyss and quickly making targeted responses accordingly. Gomez is precisely such a promising talent.
Iron Dragon narrowed its vertical pupils slightly. To prepare the perfect material for Gomez's performance, it had secretly dragged Old Howl out of the Astral Plane from Elena, along with six hundred Astral Army puppet red dragon knights—puppet red dragons, that is, those red dragons that cooperated with the chicken farmer, captured them, forcibly put them in construct shackles, and used some cruel methods, including but not limited to castration, brainwashing, and mind control, to tame them into battle mounts—and spent almost two weeks "catching bugs" in the nearby three layers of the abyss to capture these three thousand pure spider demons, and then find an opportunity to drive them out to their deaths.
A single-unit "heavy armor" cluster is much easier to deal with than a mixed-unit demon, and it also better highlights the tactical advantages developed by Gomez.
Of course, Casalos could only keep this information to himself.
Unable to hear Storm Silverhand's screams, the shieldbearers who had pushed down the tower shields quickly leaped onto the shield face, their foot, leg, and waist armor snapping into the snaps that popped out of the shield. The artillerymen followed closely behind, lying supine behind the shields and raising their jet spears high.
"Don't panic, just follow the training!" Gomez's voice echoed across the battlefield via the telepathic communication built into the lock. "You've practiced so many times, every movement and every reaction is ingrained in your instincts. Now all you need to do is relax, don't let your rush of adrenaline cloud your judgment, and victory will surely be ours!"
"Victory! Victory!" The recruits' shouts drowned out the demon's roar.
The shield wall crumbled instantly, transforming into nearly a thousand trails of dust. The tower shields, solidified with a thin defensive force field, had extremely low friction with the flat ground of the engagement platform. Propelled by the jet nozzles, they became high-speed gliding "sleds," carrying three to four soldiers as they weaved into the Spider Demon horde. The shield warriors crouched low in front, controlling the direction, and moved beneath the gaps in the Spider Demons' long, segmented legs. The artillerymen operated the jet spears from behind, waiting for the right moment to fire their tips, slicing through the Spider Demons' soft abdomens, spilling black fluid and entrails onto the ground.
"Huh?" The thorns on the razor stood up slightly.
"Is this what you always call a sliding tackle?"
"Although it feels somewhat similar..." Casalos's dragon beak clicked, "but this is just the beginning."
"Well done, you little bastards! See that? As long as we get past the Spider Demons' limbs, their stick-like legs won't be able to touch us! Now spread out!" Gomez's order was transmitted through the tactical channel... Actually, it wasn't really an order; his roar was more of a way to ease the recruits' tension and remind them what to do next.
The "sled" squads, which had initially charged into the belly of the Spider Demon horde, immediately dispersed, each choosing a seemingly chaotic yet collision-free route to spread out beneath the Spider Demons like a school of fish. Their goal was to divide the dense demon formation into isolated small groups.
"Third squad, block the northeast corner! Seventh squad, cut off their retreat!"
The elite archers, who had retreated to the rear of the reserve force, turned around and, unlike the recruits who could only use long-range artillery for ranged attacks, were all exceptionally talented marksmen. Amidst the hum of the magic-piercing crossbow wheels and the roar of the sonic-luminous cannon muzzle flash, the Spider Hunters, thrown into chaos by the collapsing shield lines, were swiftly eliminated.
The arrows flew towards the key individuals with striking appearances; the larger, more colorful, or seemingly able-to-command demons were often the first to fall.
Without these "nodes," the spider demons' swarm was completely disrupted, and their chaotic instincts drove them to fight each other.
Friendly forces and enemy forces were completely crammed together, but this didn't significantly hinder the spellcasting. Support spells struggled to find suitable targets, but ranged offensive and crowd control spells continued to rain down—as a massive demon species, Spider Demons were far taller than humanoid infantry, so as long as straight-projectile spells were aimed at their upper bodies, there was virtually no chance of friendly fire.
"Now! Each squad, eliminate the nearest enemy!"
Once the Spiderhunters were completely divided into dozens of small groups, ranging from a dozen to several dozen individuals each, the real slaughter began. This is the true meaning of infiltration tactics—not for casualties, but for division; the purpose of division is to create absolute numerical superiority in a localized area, and then annihilate them swiftly.
Elasdra's eyes gleamed as she saw a familiar figure: "Is this the fighting style of the Wood Elves?"
"You could say that what the Wood Elves use in the jungle is essentially a basic infiltration tactic, and Gomez's tactics are the same, only with slight changes in environment, weapons, and form... Well, there are still many areas for improvement, after all, it's the first time."
Iron Dragon stood up, his massive figure casting a huge shadow in the dim light of the Innot CIC: "It's not just magic shields, armor, and scales that can form a defense. In my military theory, the order of defense can be ranked as follows: the best is to not be detected, the next best is to be detected but not hit, then it's to be hit but not damaged, next is to be damaged but not disabled, and finally, it's to be disabled but not destroyed."
Its wingtips pointed towards the battlefield: "When Wood Elves fight in the jungle, their greatest advantage is using the jungle's cover to block the enemy's perception. This is the foundation for their ability to infiltrate enemy ranks and launch priority attacks—without being detected. Wood Elves achieve this layer of defense by utilizing the terrain advantage and their own talents."
Once they lose the cover of the jungle, they become vulnerable.
On a flat, frontal defensive battlefield, there's obviously no such advantage in terrain, and stealth spells that allow attacks without revealing oneself are difficult to implement. Achieving the highest level of defense—remaining undetected—is challenging, but there are still quite a few methods to ensure detection without being hit.
"The range of firearms, spells, and those strange magic-piercing crossbows before!" Elasdra mused. "And now... speed?"
"That's right, but I'm more used to calling it the advantage of range and mobility."
Ilminster's white beard trembled slightly: "Wait, your usual air combat tactics and strategies..."
"Wow, you've found the blind spot," Casalos said, uttering something no one could understand. He then continued, "That's right. All paths lead to the same destination; the greatest truths are always the simplest. The dazzling array of laws governing everything ultimately boils down to simple and fundamental principles."
The tide of battle had completely turned in Gomez's favor. The fragmented groups of Spider Demons were being annihilated one by one, their black corpses carpeting the scorched earth. Occasionally, a few demons would attempt to break through the encirclement and regroup, but they were immediately met with concentrated fire from elite archers and spellcasters.
"Fifteenth and twenty-first combat groups, turn towards area C6, there's another group there!" Gomez truly took on the role of commander.
Although he was also in the midst of the fiercest battle, the all-around situational awareness provided by the Mystic Lock allowed him to clearly observe everything on the battlefield from different angles, thus enabling him to control the overall situation both macroscopically and microscopically. Situational awareness was the part that Casalos did not explain to the chosen people of the Goddess of Magic, and it was also the most important part.
Of course, the clever ones wouldn't overlook this—if anyone didn't realize it, it could only mean that her talent in this area was purely a fluke. Like that silver-haired bard who was still jumping up and down.
By the twenty-fifth minute of the battle, the vast majority of the three thousand Spider Hunters had been wiped out. The remaining few hundred had completely lost the advantage of being in a group and were running around aimlessly like headless flies. Some tried to escape, but in the open terrain, their massive bodies became a hindrance.
"Keep the pressure on! Don't give them a chance to regroup!"
The recruits' teamwork grew increasingly seamless. They had been elevated by the blood spilled by demons, tempered by blood and fire, and had joined the ranks of veterans. The "sled's" trajectory became ever more agile and smooth, slicing the last demons and their formation to pieces.
"There are three small groups remaining in the southwest and two in the northeast corner. The central area has been completely cleared. Combat teams 23 to 28, clear the southwest! The rest of the troops continue their current mission!"
Casalos's tail nearly touched the ceiling of the CIC, making the outcome of the battle a foregone conclusion. What truly pleased it wasn't the quality displayed by the recruits, but rather the future projected by the pseudo-Laplace's demonic calculations.
"Report the casualty statistics." It re-established contact with the Thinker, instructing him to convey the figures—which every high-ranking observer within the CIC was already aware of—to the entire territory of Innot in the most direct manner.
"Currently, there are 47 dead, 89 seriously wounded, and over 200 slightly wounded. This is fewer than expected."
It was indeed less than expected.
Casalos originally estimated that at least a hundred people would die in this battle. The pseudo-Laplace's demon wouldn't make a mistake in such a well-informed deduction. However, Gomez's on-the-spot response and the recruits' execution slightly exceeded expectations. Miracles on the battlefield can always surpass rational deduction. Who can know what really happened?
"Report! The demons in the northeast have been cleared!"
"There's one last group left in the southwest, about twenty of them!"
The sounds of battle rose and fell. The recruits' morale soared; they realized they were creating a miracle—a battalion of infantry, without air support or formidable defensive measures, had annihilated a regiment of heavily armored demons on their own.
When the last Spider Demon fell into a pool of blood, the entire battlefield suddenly fell silent. Only the power systems of the construct armor continued their low rumble, and occasionally the groans of the wounded could be heard.
"Attention, everyone!" Gomez's voice broke the silence. "Clean up the battlefield! Treat the wounded! Each combat team, take headcount!"
The recruits sprang into action immediately. Medics rushed to the wounded, and logistics personnel began collecting usable equipment. Those who were still able to move supported each other, their faces beaming with barely concealed excitement.
"Final statistics," the Thinker's voice echoed in the command tower, "Sixty-one dead, one hundred and three seriously wounded, and two hundred and forty-seven lightly wounded. A total of three thousand enemy soldiers were annihilated, with not a single one escaping."
Elasdra took a deep breath: "To annihilate three thousand heavily armored demons with fewer than four hundred casualties... this is an achievement..."
Casalos sat back in the command chair custom-made for him, resting his long neck on the cushion: "Gomez set a good example. He showed everyone through his actions that the courage to innovate and the willingness to put ideas into practice are precisely the qualities the expeditionary force needs."
"A single spark can start a prairie fire." The iron dragon's beak parted, revealing spear-like teeth. "Now, it's time to ignite a prairie fire." (You, Lin Meimei, have you sung "Yong Kong" yet? Have you, Lin Zaizai, done it...?)
40. What we dragons love most is holding big meetings.
Time is also the easiest thing to burn out by the flames of war.
Innott, command center.
On the massive 3D projection, countless tactical markings twinkled like stars. Casalos's tail gently tapped the ground, its indigo vertical pupils fixed on the replay of the forty-seventh defensive battle that had just ended.
"Gomez's Third Battalion has done another great service," the Thinker said, lying on the platform beside him, his tone tinged with approval. "This time, they repelled a horde of Baboons twice their size with far fewer casualties."
Casalos's beak clicked, but he did not respond verbally.
Gomez is a microcosm of the results of Deepwater Territory's military education—just two weeks of real combat transformed those officers, whose minds were filled with theory. They were no longer bound by textbook rules, but instead developed all sorts of unbelievable yet highly effective tactics based on the characteristics of the demons. Gomez is just the most dazzling one among them. There's also Captain Samwell, who is adept at using terrain; Lieutenant Miriam, who is skilled in firepower deployment; and the veteran Harrison, who makes logistics and supply work ingenious... Behind each name is a legend forged in blood and fire.
"At this rate, in another six months, we will be able to train a true anti-demon elite force." Razor's thorns trembled slightly, clearly full of anticipation for this prospect.
Casalos suddenly stood up: "I'm afraid there isn't that much time."
It turned to face north, and even through the thick armored walls, an ominous aura could be sensed: "The final Dragon Frenzy has begun."
The fangs bristled sharply: "When?"
"From the moment I burned Cyric to death," Casalos's voice was low, "it just came too secretly, like..."
"Like boiling a frog in lukewarm water," the Thinker continued, a hint of worry flashing in the old bronze dragon's eyes. "No wonder I've been feeling so unsettled lately."
This is one of the terrifying aspects of the final Dragon Madness.
Unlike the previous dragon rampages that came with overwhelming force, it silently seeped into the depths of every dragon's soul. At first, it was just a matter of temper getting worse and patience running a little slower, but who would take that seriously? Dragons have never been known for their good temper.
"The dragons in Deepwater Territory are alright," Casalos continued. "The Kingslayer Star Shield protects the dragons within the city from harm. Inott is protected by the Maze Lock, so for now, there's no problem either. But..."
It didn't finish its sentence, but all the dragons present understood its unspoken meaning. Countless other dragons on the continent of Faerûn remained unprotected, and they were being relentlessly eroded without their knowledge.
"Should we notify the other dragons?" Shaving asked.
Casalos shook his head: "Dragons are already making their move. The Golden Dragon Court issued a summons, and Kara set off for the Lead Mountains three days ago."
When mentioning her spouse's name, Iron Dragon's tone remained slightly complex. As the de facto ruler of the Damarayan Iron Dragon Knight Legion, Kara's responsibilities did not allow her to remain in a safe place. Even knowing that the dragon frenzy outside was intensifying, she still embarked on her journey without hesitation.
"How many dragons are still out there?" the Thinker asked the crucial question.
Casalos pulled up a detailed list. Through the combined efforts of Charleson and Kenneth, almost every known dragon on the continent of Faerûn was marked.
"Wow..." Just seeing the length of the list, Toothpick was already gloating: "Looks like a lot of places are going to be in big trouble."
"At least Kara went to the Golden Dragon Royal Court," the Thinker tried to find some comfort. "The golden and silver dragons there are all determined and resolute; they should be able to come up with a solution."
Casalos slammed his tail heavily on the ground: "The Golden Dragon Court... Hmph, a bunch of fools who've been played for a fool. They did sense something amiss, but other than that, they knew nothing—those golden and silver dragons were merely the biggest sacrifices in this game!" (The last sentence appears to be a nonsensical string of characters and is omitted from the translation.)
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Three hundred miles north of Bloodstone Pass, the cold wind is like a knife.
Kara led three young anamorphic dragons through the biting north wind. The new flight method, now widespread among all the dragons of Faerûn, made long-distance flight no longer a torment; her breathing remained steady, and the wind sweeping across her wing membranes maintained the smoothest flow. Even so, a restlessness rising from the depths of her dragon soul caused her to furrow her brow slightly.
"Sir, a large gathering of dragons has been spotted in the valley ahead," the adjutant, Kazakh, reported via telepathy. "Initial estimates suggest over three hundred."
Kara slightly adjusted her flight angle and began to descend. She had seen quite a few grand scenes, but when she passed through the last layer of clouds and saw the view below, she couldn't help but slow down her descent.
Nestled amidst the peaks of the Fangqian Mountains, a natural rocky basin resembles the palm of a giant. Hundreds of dragons of various colors are densely distributed across the valley floor and cliff faces. The scales of the golden dragons flow like molten gold, the silver dragons are as elegant as moonlight, the brass dragons chatter and occasionally let out hearty laughter, the copper dragons leap and frolic among the rocks, the bronze dragons huddle together discussing something in hushed tones, and occasionally a few other metallic dragon subspecies can be seen. The various metallic lusters of their scales are reflected in the jagged rocks, making the entire area shimmer and glow.
The heat generated by so many dragons gathered in one place significantly raised the temperature of the entire valley. Rocks that should have been covered in snow were exposed, and in some places, the ice and snow had even melted into trickles.
"Maintain formation, prepare to land," Kara commanded via telepathy.
The three young sub-dragons immediately adjusted their positions, forming a perfect V-shape behind her. They were all elites handpicked by Inot, not only possessing outstanding strength and having completed the full advancement of the Carved Skin Dragon, but also having unwavering willpower, enough to resist the initial effects of the Dragon Frenzy.
Kara chose a relatively spacious platform on the outskirts of the basin to land. As soon as her claws touched the ground, two adult golden dragons came to greet her.
"Your Excellency Kara," the leading golden dragon bowed respectfully, its whiskers neatly trimmed and scales gleaming—clearly a specialist in etiquette. "His Majesty Lares has been waiting for you. Please follow me; we have arranged appropriate seats for you and your entourage."
The other golden dragon added, "Your guards can rest on the third platform, where they have a good view and can easily perform their duties."
As the de facto ruler of the Damara Dragon Knights and one of the official consorts of the new Supreme Dragon of the Athelon race, Kara received special treatment even from the most arrogant Golden Dragon Court.
"Thank you for your trouble." Kara nodded slightly, signaling the guards to take their positions as arranged.
As she moved through the dragon horde, she could clearly feel the gazes of all kinds. Whispers rose and fell, mostly revolving around one name—Katharos, the new Supreme Dragon of Athelon, consort of Khala.
"That's her, the mate of that iron dragon."
"I heard that arrogant Casalos recently built a fortress at Hellgate Castle that leads into the abyss."
"That's insane."
"Are all acetals this fierce?"
Kara maintained her composed and unassuming demeanor as she continued moving towards the inner circle. Suddenly, a small clump of slime appeared on a rock, nearly causing her right forepaw to slip. Thanks to her exceptional sense of balance, she quickly adjusted her center of gravity, avoiding an embarrassing situation.
"Watch your step, beautiful lady," a flippant voice came from the side.
Kara turned her head and saw a bronze dragon grinning at her. The creature was missing a front tooth, making its smile particularly comical. Even worse, its wing hooks were still in the motion of casting a spell, clearly indicating it was the culprit.
"You've become lubricant."
"A little bit of greasiness won't hurt you," the copper dragon shrugged fearlessly. "Don't be so serious, it's just a way to pass the time. I've been here for hours, and nothing fun has happened. I am Chaturio, here to add some fun to this dull gathering."
It leaned closer and lowered its voice: "Seriously, you're the legendary commander of the Athelon Legion? The one from Casalos?"
"What's it to you?" Her anger subsided, and Kara wisely chose not to attack him. To fight with a bronze dragon in public was more socially mortifying than any embarrassing fall—the bronze dragon couldn't resist courting death, just as a dragon couldn't resist composing music.
"Of course it's related!" Chaturio rubbed his paws excitedly. "We copper dragons love stories. Yours is the biggest talking dragon in Faerûn lately. Come, tell me, did he really nail the magic net into the abyss?"