"What's going on?"
Roggs had barely recovered from the earlier tremors and deafening noises when he realized he had completely lost contact with one of his squads.
Judging by the commotion, Roggs surmised what had happened, and a look of utter horror washed over his face.
"How could these wretched commoners possess explosives of this magnitude?!"
Roggs couldn't wrap his head around it. Then a more terrifying thought struck him: could explosives have been buried along the route his squad had taken?
The realization sent him into a panic.
No, this battle was clearly premeditated. If I continue forward without knowing how many more explosives they have, there's a good chance we won't make it back.
Roggs had heard the explosion clearly. If a blast of that magnitude had occurred nearby, he wasn't sure he would have survived.
But retreating now, after suffering such heavy losses, would only invite trouble later. His superiors would make him pay dearly.
After pondering for a moment, Roggs devised a plan: he would recall all the other squads and use them as scouts.
He had no choice now. With such devastating losses, those powerful figures wouldn't spare him unless he achieved a significant victory.
With this in mind, Roggs began contacting the scattered squads, ordering them to regroup. During this time, they ceased their pursuit of the Fleuve Cendre residents.
Observing their actions, the Fleuve Cendre residents immediately understood the Court of Justice team's decision. Joy spread across their faces.
"Just as Monsieur Grett predicted, they're regrouping."
"Now it's our turn to exploit our familiarity with this territory and launch guerrilla attacks."
"Has everyone memorized their missions?"
"Understood!"
"Excellent. Now, regroup according to the original plan."
"Comrades, take care!"
"Take care, comrades!"
As the Court of Justice squads regrouped, they encountered only minor resistance from the Fleuve Cendre forces. Roggs took this as confirmation that the Fleuve Cendre Faction hadn't anticipated his move, further solidifying his conviction that regrouping his forces had been the right decision.
However, once the regrouping was complete—even the survivors of the squad that had lost all contact were retrieved by the Clockwork Mekas—Roggs ordered his Clockwork Meka army to advance again. This time, while they didn't face the same organized resistance as before, they were relentlessly harassed from all sides.
Whenever Roggs sent Clockwork Mekas in pursuit of the harassers, the small teams would lure them into traps and destroy them.
If the Mekas merely returned fire from their positions, the harassers proved as elusive as mudfish in a mire.
And when the Mekas tried to defend themselves with their Energy Barriers, the enemy would spray them with a strange liquid that short-circuited their systems.
In the end, Roggs could only think to have the outer Clockwork Mekas use metal shields or raise the already short-circuited Mekas to block the enemy's harassing attacks, while the remaining Mekas retaliated through the gaps.
However, this tactic effectively blinded the team. Soon, Fleuve Cendre residents began sneaking onto rooftops and tipping heavy objects onto the Mekas below.
Exasperated by these petty tricks and eager to end this ordeal, Roggs ordered his forces to accelerate their advance.
Having deployed Clockwork Mekas ahead to detect buried explosives, with additional Mekas stationed slightly behind to absorb any blasts, Roggs wasn't overly concerned about being blown up.
Yet every move he made played directly into the Fleuve Cendre Faction's plans, as if he were methodically stepping into the trap they had laid for him.
"What's that sound?"
Suddenly, Roggs heard a muffled rumbling from ahead and tensed.
"Another explosion?"
"But all squads are here now. If it's an explosion, what are these wretches blowing up?"
Just as Roggs was puzzling over the distant rumbling, another, slightly fainter sound reached him. This time, the sound was different—a continuous drone that seemed to grow louder with each passing moment.
Suddenly, a terrible premonition struck Roggs. He shouted urgently, "Halt! Immediately assume defensive positions!"
Though Roggs considered himself cautious, he still couldn't identify the source of the approaching noise. Had he known what was coming, he certainly wouldn't have stood rooted to the spot like a fool.
When a towering wave of sewage crashed against the corner just meters ahead, the resulting thunderous explosions shook the air. The wave surged toward him, and Roggs's mind went blank.
If Roggs had been wiser, he might have deduced the impending danger from the steadily approaching sound and ordered his team to retreat to higher ground. At worst, they would have lost a few Clockwork Mekas, leaving them a chance to recover.
But reality offers no "what ifs." As the sewage wave crashed forward, the frontline Clockwork Mekas, tasked with detecting threats and protecting the group, bore the brunt of the impact. Under normal circumstances, these machines could withstand hours of water pressure before their energy reserves ran dry.
However, the wastewater also contained a liquid that disrupted the energy systems of the Clockwork Mekas. This liquid was concentrated in the initial surge, as time constraints prevented the extraction of larger quantities. Still, the amount was sufficient.
The steel bodies of the frontline Clockwork Mekas would now become the perfect weapons to shatter the defensive line.
Due to the energy disruption, the Energy Barriers activated by the Clockwork Mekas quickly dissipated. Their bodies, propelled by the force of the wastewater, transformed into "bullets" that slammed violently into the Energy Barriers of the Clockwork Mekas behind them.
Initially, the defensive line barely held, but soon the entire formation collapsed like a row of dominoes, one after another, until the wastewater completely engulfed them.
Almost all the Clockwork Mekas and members of the Court of Justice would eventually be swept into the sea with the wastewater. Their survival now depended solely on luck.
As for the Clockwork Mekas that weren't washed away or became lodged somewhere, the residents of Fleuve Cendre gleefully hauled them away.
Perfect! Another payday!