Chapter 439.1: To Defeat Magic, We Need Even Stronger Magic!

“Charge!”

"We are the invincible spearhead of the New Alliance!"

"We are the steel torrent that sweeps away all in its path!"

"We are ready to give our hearts, ready to lay down our lives to fulfill the administrator's ideals!"

"Advance towards the air field!”

The roar of engines filled the air as the Skeleton Corps chased the howling sands forward.

A half-body protruded from a desert-colored steel turret, with Escaping Mole holding a binoculars, he looked spirited as he surveyed the distant rolling horizon.

Despite the turret being hot enough to fry eggs, and despite being pelted with sand, standing out like a sore thumb, Escaping Mole had no intention of hiding back in the tank.

The other three crew members sat lethargically on the tank-carrying truck, whispering to each other, indifferent to Escaping Mole's pumped-up declarations.

After playing the game for so long, they were used to his actions. He would calm down after some time.

"We have too few rounds of 155mm shells... Why don’t we use 120mm guns instead?”

"There's no production line for 120mm barrels, so they just went with the 155mm."

"What? That works too?"

"Haha, you look just like a newbie with your surprised face."

"It's so hot! Sweating is annoying... We should have installed an air conditioner in the tank."

Hearing his comrades' feeble complaints, Escaping Mole put down his binoculars and looked at them with a look of disapproval.

"What is that? You’re too weak you fucks. It’s better to carry a couple more rounds!"

Everyone on board just stared at him like he was a retard.

"..."

He's lost it.

The guy's gone mad.

Anyway, there were 35 tanks in total, and all of them were carried by trucks for the time being as they made their way over.

Those 12-wheeled heavy trucks were the latest product called the Electro Bull completed with assistance from the Silver Wing Corporate Group, could carry much more than the older models, with a maximum load of 80 tons. They were mainly used for transporting heavy equipment.

As for the fearless armored infantry of the Skeleton Corps, most sat on 4-wheeled Electric Mules.

More than 700 kilometers off-road... Of course they couldn’t drive their tanks all the way.

The historical 400 kilometers blitzkrieg by the T34s was considered a miracle in military history.

Most tanks' engine and suspension systems required major overhauls after about 500 kilometers.

Thus, relying on road or rail transport before deploying them in their target area was a common strategy.

Although Tank 2 utilized futuristic materials, the New Alliance's industrial technology was still in its infancy, and mechanical durability wasn't outstanding.

If they really went off-road for 700 kilometers, they'd probably end up pushing the tanks before reaching their destination.

Entering the desert from the south, the Skeleton Corps would advance along the edge of a sandstorm, using the iron-laden sand to evade potential high-altitude reconnaissance and electromagnetic searches.

Meanwhile, atop an Electro Bull, Irene hummed a tune while frying eggs on the hood of a tank, unfazed by the occasional seasoning sprinkled by Spirit of the Desert.

Elf Wang, perched on the guardrail, kept staring at a map, trying to discern their location in the nearly landmark-free desert.

"Where are we now?" Irene asked casually.

Elf Wang shook his head. "Don't know. There’s no GPS... Who knows where we've ended up."

Placing the fried eggs on a metal plate, Irene glanced at him with a playful look. "Let's hope we don't end up at the Army's doorstep."

Elf Wang packed up the map and rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright, keep your jinxes and gloom to yourself.”

“Want a fried egg?" Irene asked suddenly.

The fried eggs did smell enticing.

Though the ingredients were unusual, Irene's cooking skills were undeniable. The infamous monster meat steaks on North Street were his and Tomato Eggs' creation.

But Elf Wang didn't bite immediately, He gulped warily while staring at Irene for any unnatural changes in expression. "... Are you sure it's just an egg?"

Irene shifted his gaze away, scratching his head. "Well, I can guarantee it's

an

egg."

Elf Wang’s eyelids twitched slightly. “...”

...

Elsewhere, at Petra Fortress.

The ‘closed’ sign hung at the entrance of the Order of the White Bear's base, but the warehouse was far from empty. It was even somewhat crowded.

Leading them was the lord of Petra Fortress, Sien.

Following him were the guards, the general in charge of city defense, nobles in lavish attire, priests in white robes, and others...

Compared to the mundane journey of the Skeleton Corps, the players of the Order of the White Bears faced far more thrilling encounters.

Seeing almost all the city's elites gathered, Buma felt his legs go weak, his heart feeling a little weak.

However, seeing the young lady led away by the guards return unharmed, he heaved a slight sigh of relief.

He had been trying to find out her whereabouts, but couldn't even gather a hint about what she'd done wrong or where she'd been taken.

Regardless, it was good she was back.

Caught in the middle of the crowd, Sesame Paste looked uncomfortable and unsure of what to do. Standing next to her, Sisi calmly watched everyone in the hall and slowly said, "She is the Divine Envoy I mentioned."

With that, she gently removed the hat from Sesame Paste's head.

Seeing the wobbling cat ears, almost everyone revealed a look of surprise, some even gasping in shock.

Except for the other members of the Order of the White Bears and Buma standing in the corner, everyone was greatly taken aback at Sesame Paste’s appearance.

Perhaps because he had seen it more often, he had grown accustomed to the unusual ears atop the young lady's head. However, when he heard Sisi calling her the Divine Envoy, he revealed a look of confusion.

God... Divine Envoy?!

What is going on?!

No wonder Buma was amazed; after all, he couldn't access the forums, and the players wouldn't include him when discussing strategies.

...

Five days earlier, in the castle in Petra Fortress.

Under the watchful eyes of all the city's merchants and nobles, Sisi publicly admitted that she was behind all the rumors in the city.

Whether it was the part concocted by the mercenary leader or the rumors that had spread, she took responsibility for all of it.

At the same time, she did it without the slightest sense of guilt.

However, she adamantly claimed that rather than being made-up lies, it was a prophecy given to her companion in a dream by the Silvermoon Goddess.

The moment she mentioned the will of the gods, the court erupted.

The white-robed priest, his nose crooked with anger, immediately accused her of blaspheming the gods and demanded her execution.

Count Losjin, the foreign affairs officer, also found it unbelievable and provided a well-reasoned rebuttal. "... If it truly were the will of the gods, why would the lesser deities not choose a devout believer, like our lord, but instead choose you?"

He paused, his voice filled with conviction, "... A foreigner from beyond the oasis, what reasons could possibly lead the gods to have you tell us what to do?"

The old priest, unable to contain his anger, added, "Exactly! Even if it were guidance from the Spirit of the Desert and the Silvermoon Goddess, why would they find you and not me?!"

With nothing left to lose since death in the game meant a mere three day respawn timer, Sisi boldly retorted, "Shouldn't you be asking yourselves that question?"

Silenced by her compelling argument, the hall fell quiet.