The all-out counteroffensive had begun.
Though it came swiftly, it was an attack everyone had foreseen, and so each battalion had already made their preparations. Unmanned artillery, guided by the central AI, automatically moved to optimal firing positions, poised to rain shells upon the rebels once the ground forces were ready. Infantry soldiers entered the armory, donning their power armor and swiftly arming themselves with meticulously arranged laser rifles.
Under the command of the logistics mechs, the armored divisions rolled out their Leman Russ tanks, veterans already well-versed in their operation through integrated training systems within the machines of war. Duncan's forces were faster than the rest, and as soon as he received confirmation from allied forces that they were prepared, he immediately ordered the regiment to advance.
"How should we engage?"
The voice of the acting commander of the 31st Regiment echoed from within the tank's cockpit. He was a young man, highly regarded by his comrades, who had taken command after Albert's death, yet still in need of guidance in the art of war.
"Advance," Duncan replied, his answer curt and resolute.
That was Qin Mo's command. No complex battle plans, no detailed orders specifying which unit should attack which target. Only the single word: advance.
One couldn't help but wonder at the true objective of this counteroffensive.
"Silence on the comms!"
"A more detailed order has come through."
"Our entire directive is to advance, draw as much of the rebels' main forces as possible, and create favorable battlefield conditions for the Lord Commander and his retinue."
Brian's voice crackled over the comms.
Duncan paused momentarily, then couldn't resist asking, "May I inquire, what exactly is the Lord Commander planning?"
"They are on a mission to assassinate the rebel leader. I was only informed to avoid leaks."
The revelation dawned upon Duncan, and he popped his head out of the hatch to survey his forces.
The infantry, fully equipped in power armor, were advancing alongside the regiment's ten tanks. In the distance, the unmanned artillery had already opened fire, with thunderous blasts followed by dense explosions on the horizon. The second volley was already underway before the flames from the first had even dissipated.
Overhead, two unmanned drones hovered, trailing slowly above the advancing ground troops. Even logistical mechs joined the formation.
As they drew closer to the rebel lines, more drones surged ahead, unfurling lateral gravity shields. Red warning projections flared at the edges of the shields, cautioning anyone from venturing too close. White medical drones whizzed overhead, headed for distant units likely already engaged in combat, with injuries reported.
"By the Emperor," Duncan murmured in astonishment.
This offensive was far more formidable than he had anticipated. He'd imagined it would be a desperate, suicidal charge—a last-ditch effort before death.
"Forward!" Duncan raised his chainsword, rallying his troops on the internal comms of the 87th Regiment. "For the Emperor! For the Lord Commander!"
The 87th drew ever closer to the rebel forces.
Those rebels, decimated by artillery, had few left standing, yet still they fought back. However, their bullets were halted by the gravity shields, and only a few stray lasers struck the armor of the infantry or the tank plating. The soldiers activated bio-scanners to detect any remaining enemies, swiftly eliminating them before pressing forward.
This wasn't just happening in Duncan's regiment; all along the battlefront, other regiments were advancing even faster.
...
As the ground forces made steady progress, Qin Mo and his retinue were already aboard an unmanned transport drone, cutting through the heart of the rebel lines.
They had bypassed many rebel units, who, sensing their objective, had hastily erected anti-air defenses and were firing upon the transport. From the drone, the ground below was invisible, only the torrents of anti-air fire being blocked by the gravity shields. Occasionally, missiles would streak toward them, but they too were crushed by the shields.
"Our allies have drawn the bulk of the rebel forces, but we may still face tens of thousands—perhaps even over a hundred thousand rebels. The battle ahead will be grueling."
"But it must be done. No matter the cost, if I fall, you must complete the mission."
"If we kill the rebel leader, the tides of war will turn."
Qin Mo's voice rang clear as he addressed the five others in his retinue, all clad in imposing power armor, their morale high.
But their spirits hardly needed lifting.
"With you leading us, nothing is impossible," Grey responded.
"Indeed," Qin Mo nodded with a smile, echoed by the others.
Moments later, the drone shifted from flight to a hovering stance—their destination had arrived.
This was the rebel leader's location, identified by the locator device.
Qin Mo rose and approached the transport's exit, the others following close behind.
"We'll disembark in order. As soon as we hit the ground, activate your gravity shields," he ordered, deactivating the transport drone's shields and being the first to leap out.
His descent wasn't perfect—his jetpack gave a slight boost to stabilize him before he touched down. The others had already landed.
In the midst of a storm of anti-air fire, their gravity shields held as always, protecting the wearers of the power armor.
On the ground, a sea of rebels saw six figures descending from the barrage. Immediately, they scattered, either seeking cover or setting up heavy weapons.
Grey landed first, followed by the second and third soldiers... until finally, Qin Mo touched down, slightly delayed by his jetpack.
All six stood upright, their gaze fixed on the rebels ahead.
A torrent of fire descended upon them, so thick they had to switch to thermal imaging just to see beyond their gravity shields.
"Psychic signature detected!"
An alert rang out, and a purple marker appeared on their HUDs. Through thermal vision, they saw it—an enormous creature, seven meters tall, a looming behemoth preparing to unleash a psychic attack.
Qin Mo led the charge, the jetpacks on their backs providing powerful thrusts as they dashed forward, bypassing unnecessary enemies, heading straight for the leader.
Qin Mo was at the forefront, bracing for the imminent psychic attack, his eyes locked on the leader.
Yet strangely, the leader's psychic assault never came. Instead, its massive body trembled and collapsed.
There was no time to question the odd turn of events. Qin Mo immediately commanded his shoulder-mounted cannon to fire at the leader, and the others followed suit.
Six beams shot toward the leader, obliterating enemies in their path, followed by twelve orbs that exploded into a rain of light.
The leader's hulking form reacted, rolling twice to the left to avoid the incoming blasts.
It wasn't dead, but many of the rebels surrounding it were, further enraging the leader.
And that fury rippled through the entire rebel force.
Now, all along the front lines, no matter where they fought, the rebels plunged into a frenzied counterattack, hell-bent on throwing themselves into battle without regard for the cost.
As Qin Mo continued to fire his shoulder cannon at both the leader and the swarming rebels, countless foes were crushed by the gravity shields. Yet, they seemed insane, mindlessly charging into the deadly zone.
The leader, as if sensing the cannon's trajectory before each shot, managed to evade again and again. Until, as it prepared another psychic assault, it collapsed once more, struck by a beam that had closed in on it in the blink of an eye.