Chapter 45: The Governor Will Act
Pobov felt a chill in his heart.
He understood all too well the consequences if these monsters truly broke through the fire blockade and reached their lines.
Previously, he had considered the Abscess Spitters among the enemy to be extremely dangerous, but they were nothing compared to the ordinary abscess monsters.
The most terrifying aspect was their sheer numbers.
Once engaged in close combat, even though the soldiers were equipped with bayonets, they wouldn’t be able to fire their weapons.
When an ever-increasing, seemingly endless horde of monsters rushed in, how could his men hope to fend them off with mere bayonets?
Even if a soldier could take down three to five abscess monsters in close combat, it wouldn’t matter; the enemy would overwhelm them with sheer numbers.
In fact, signs of this were already evident.
Twice as many zombie dogs as before had breached the lines after the firepower diminished, first entering the soldiers’ ranks.
This was the first step in shaking the entire defensive line.
The zombie dogs that had breached needed to be dealt with at close range by the soldiers.
The more time they spent dealing with these zombie dogs, the further the firepower would diminish, potentially allowing even more zombie dogs to break through, quickly leading to a vicious cycle and rapid collapse.
Pobov could see this trend.
But he felt powerless.
He was shouting at the top of his lungs, demanding that the soldiers hold their ground and maintain their firepower.
But it was difficult.
His soldiers were not cowards, but the pain, the wind, and the white mist were real obstacles that couldn’t be overcome just by sheer will.
Especially the white mist, which severely impaired the soldiers’ vision.
Even if they held their positions, all they could do was blindly fire into the surrounding mist.
Only when the enemies got closer could they see vague outlines.
The decrease in shooting accuracy greatly reduced the effectiveness of the firepower net.
What he could do effectively at this moment was to ensure that the more critical firepower units continued their assault.
The mortar positions, unified under the command of the battalion headquarters, could not stop.
Pobov also instructed the mortar crews to adjust their firing points closer.
Previously, most of the shells were aimed at the forest’s edge to inflict the first wave of damage and intercept the enemies.
They avoided placing them too close to prevent friendly fire and because the enemy formations would become sparse due to casualties along the charge, reducing the effectiveness of the artillery.
But now, they couldn’t afford such considerations.
Additionally, the machine gunners positioned at various points were striving to hold their ground.
Their situation was slightly better, as the makeshift fortifications of wooden boards and sandbags at the fire points provided some shelter from the wind.
The machine gunners endured the pain, lying on the ground, fingers glued to the triggers, not caring if their barrels would overheat and fail, frantically pouring bullets into the fog.
Meanwhile, the firepower from the four Walkers had never ceased.
It was precisely because the mortars, machine guns, and autocannons—these three crucial fire points—had not gone silent that the defensive line still had some degree of firepower assurance.
Without this, the line would have already collapsed.
However, Pobov knew that with his command alone, this was the best they could manage.
The fragile balance could only slow the collapse of the defensive line but could not restore it to the previous state where all monsters were kept at bay by the firepower.
He raised his head in frustration, looking up at the three storm eagles—one large and two small—visible through the mist.
He knew that was the source of the problem.
But as for dealing with the three in the sky… Pobov was helpless.
He had already ordered all the sharpshooters in the company to fire at the sky, but it had little effect; he himself had drawn his sidearm and fired at the sky, but that was more venting than anything else, utterly useless.
He had tried his best, but what happened next seemed to symbolize the impending destruction of his efforts.
The only reason the line was holding was because the mortar positions and machine gun fire points were still operational, a fact not lost on the storm apostles flying above.
They didn’t target the Walkers; their storm magic lacked the capability to penetrate the armor and harm the drivers inside.
As for damaging the infantry fighting vehicles themselves…
Forget it.
In comparison, the machine gunners and mortar crews were easier to deal with.
From the sky, wind bullets descended.
A wind bullet the size of a wheel cut through the mist from above, descending directly onto a machine gun position, exploding with a loud bang.
The wind bullet exploded like a shell, and the sudden blast of wind pressure threw people into the air; the high-pressure wind blades scattered like shrapnel, slicing bodies into a thousand pieces.
The machine gunner and two soldiers nearby, caught in the blast, were already dead when they hit the ground.
The loss of a machine gun fire point had a significant impact.
The area it covered was immediately breached by multiple zombie dogs, followed closely by abscess monsters.
The pressure intensified abruptly.
Seeing two more wind bullets descending from the sky, Pobov was frantic.
Instinctively, he rushed towards the landing points of the wind bullets, trying to use his body to shield them.
But at that moment, a familiar voice echoed in his mind: “Don’t worry, lead your troops with heart.”
“Governor?!”
Pobov recognized the voice and looked around, but saw nothing.
It was only then he realized that the voice was directly resonating in his mind.
He suddenly understood, recalling the peculiar deaths of people by the river valley.
The Governor possessed some mysterious power called psionics, not just a paper tiger.
If it was the Governor, there would be no problem!
Pobov had a deep-seated trust in the Governor.
Gu Hang did not let him down.
The two wind bullets about to land, which Pobov had been desperate to block with his body, suddenly dissipated in mid-air.
Immediately following, the three storm eagles flying above also vanished.
Three figures fell from the sky.
In an instant, the situation took a dramatic turn.
All of this was, of course, because of Gu Hang’s intervention.
At this moment, he had disembarked from the infantry fighting vehicle.
Releasing psionics through the armor of the Walker would cause some attenuation. To ensure success, he left the vehicle and moved outside.
‘Soul Sever’ was indeed a handy spell.
Gu Hang didn’t directly use this spell on the three cultists.
Their soul strength was quite high, clearly visible in his psionic vision.
Even with full force, he might not be able to decapitate them and kill their souls.
Instead, Gu Hang targeted the psionic connection they used to control the storm eagles.
Destroying their flight magic and causing them to fall, then eliminating them physically, was a more efficient method.
Around him, 11 Marine Squad soldiers charged out, each targeting one of the falling figures.
These assault troopers, while sprinting at high speed, raised their guns and fired with absurd accuracy, metal spikes precisely hitting the free-falling targets.
This performance far exceeded their comrades.
The reason these 11 special forces members could achieve such high levels of performance was that they had transcended the T4 warrior level, reaching T3 status.