Chapter 59: Utter Chaos

Explosions echoed endlessly through the streets as mortar shells rained down furiously upon Marquis Hyde’s positions.

Their defenses had been entirely focused on the enemy ahead; how could they have anticipated an attack from behind?

Innumerable shells fell like sheets of rain. Artillery pieces mounted on tall buildings and soldiers hunkered down in the frontline trenches alike were baptized by the barrage.

"Notify superiors! Notify superiors!"

A frontline regimental commander roared at the communications soldier, demanding, "Ask them what in the world is going on! Did we harbor a traitor within our ranks?"

Boom!

A shell exploded not far above his head, kicking up a storm of dust.

Crumbled chunks of masonry rained down from above, a shower of earth and gravel peppering the commander's cap.

"Spit, spit..."

The commander brushed the dust from his cap and spat twice onto the ground, looking thoroughly wretched.

"Relaying the message now, right now!" the communications soldier replied anxiously.

The commander wore an expression of utter anguish.

Communication was proving to be abysmally inconvenient.

If only they had equipment capable of real-time communication with the higher-ups, how wonderful would that be?

Boom!

Another shell landed, and a violent shockwave blew the commander airborne.

Thud...

The commander slammed heavily onto the ground.

"Cough, cough..."

The commander’s right hand clawed frantically in front of his face, as if trying to pierce the smoke and see what was happening nearby.

His face felt strangely warm, as though he had been splattered with something.

Then, a horrifying reality met his eyes.

Not far away, the communications soldier who had just been trying to contact headquarters had been blown to smithereens!

The warm substance on his own face was undoubtedly that unfortunate man's flesh and blood.

As for the communication device, it had been blasted to pieces.

This likely wasn't even a targeted enemy strike, but merely a stray shell that happened to find its mark.

"Commander! The enemy—the enemy is charging..."

At that moment, a scout clutching a small flag ran into the vicinity.

"They're attacking..." The commander crawled out of the trench and raised his binoculars to peer into the distance.

A dense mass of figures was advancing, spilling through trench after trench.

Aside from standard firearms, they were also carrying mortars.

Those soldiers looked well-trained and murderous!

Boom!

Another shell detonated not far behind the commander.

The commander let out a bitter, wretched laugh. "How are we supposed to fight this?"

There were enemies in the rear, and the enemy in front was closing in fast.

Under normal siege conditions, the commander could guarantee they would make the enemy pay a horrific price.

But!

Nothing about this was normal!

They had gone from defending a fortified city with an endless stream of reinforcements to being caught in a pincer attack from front and rear...

How could any soldier summon the courage to advance when they had to constantly guard against artillery fire unexpectedly raining down from behind? Who among the artillery crews dared to even step out of their trenches?

"Report!"

Just then, another runner sprinted up.

"The Third and Seventh Regiments have mutinied! Higher command has issued orders: eliminate the traitors first."

"The Third and Seventh Regiments..." the commander muttered to himself.

That meant some of their own people—some of the troops on their very own frontline positions—were traitors!

That couldn't be right, though. Weren't a vast number of the shells clearly coming from the rear?

Clatter, clatter.

Before the commander could process this... a second runner arrived.

"The division commander orders us to halt the enemy with all our might..."

Listening to the conflicting orders, the commander slumped down heavily onto the ground.

He suddenly felt like laughing.

With headquarters issuing contradictory commands, how on earth was this battle supposed to be fought?

***

Marquis Hyde’s defensive line was in absolute, chaotic turmoil; the entire position had devolved into a bubbling stew of confusion.

For a time, the city-defense forces had no earthly idea what they were supposed to prioritize.

Two regiments on the front lines had mutinied, the enemy in front was pressing closer, and there were still enemies stationed inside the city behind them.

Enemies were everywhere, both inside and outside the city!

Following contradictory directives, the soldiers would fire a few rounds at the advancing enemy forces, then hurl a couple of grenades toward the mutinous units, before anxiously glancing backward to see what the rear-guard was doing.

Beyond these issues, Marquis Hyde’s positions were plagued by severe overcrowding and gridlock.

Some soldiers had received orders to prevent the enemy from approaching; others had been ordered to root out the traitors; and still others had been commanded to immediately retreat into the city to crush the rebel forces.

After half an hour of frantic chaos, there was still no orderly organization and not a single effective counterattack.

Boom, boom, rat-tat-tat-tat...

Clouds of smoke and dust also billowed within the city streets.

During the previous flare-up, the hidden vanguard forces inside the city had driven the local populace to pin down the security bureau and garrison troops.

This time, joining forces with the mutinous Commander Marshall, they had turned their guns on Marquis Hyde’s positions.

Although the front lines lacked coherent organization, stray artillery shells inevitably landed inside the city from time to time.

Maria Ivanovna Serebryakov stood watching the pedestrians fleeing frantically through the streets, her gaze locked firmly in one direction while she sheltered within an alleyway.

Boom!

A shell struck, instantly blowing apart several people who failed to take cover in time.

"Ah... ah..."

A man dragged his shattered leg, his face contorted in agony as he shrieked in absolute despair.

He was a father, a civil servant. The people he usually dined with could not protect him now; his patrons and protectors could not shield him.

Beneath the merciless weight of reality, all men were equal!

Like the common laborers, amidst this chaotic disaster, he could do nothing but sit on the ground and wail.

Elsewhere, those who had suffered even more direct hits lay half-reduced to bloody pulps; they could no longer scream, left merely to lie in the street and await death.

Boom!

Another shell landed.

Fortunately, this one did not claim any lives, instead carving a massive crater into the pavement.

Swish!

Maria darted like a ghost into a different alleyway.

The scenes playing out on this street were repeating across every other avenue.

Before long, Maria slipped into the perimeter of a small military-controlled zone.

"As expected, there are hardly anyone left..."

Maria took a deep breath, clutched her coat tighter around herself, and crept closer to the restricted area inch by inch.

Her lover was inside.

Though the two of them constantly bickered, and Maria never bothered to reason with him, she still deeply loved the man who was always willing to spoil her.

"The guards are sparse, and with shells falling like this, there probably aren't any patrols inside. As long as I'm careful..."

Maria muttered to herself.

Clack.

At that exact moment, several bodies were suddenly tossed out through the gates of the military zone.

The corpses were mangled and bloody, tortured beyond all recognition.

Bang, bang, bang...

The soldiers who had thrown them out casually delivered coup de grâce shots into the back of their heads.

Witnessing this scene, Maria felt a sharp ringing in her ears.

She saw with absolute clarity that one of the dead men was wearing her lover's clothes.

That outfit was one she had personally chosen for him.

Had she... watched him get executed with her own eyes?

"I..."

Swish, swish!

Abandoning all stealth, Maria stepped directly out of the alley.

A volley of flying needles shot forth, and the guards at the gate instantly grew dazed and sluggish, as if heavily intoxicated.

Without a word, Maria drew her pistol.

Bang, bang!

Two of the guards were dropped on the spot!

The soldiers who had dumped the bodies had not yet walked far; hearing the gunshots, they decisively shouldered their rifles and charged out of the gates.

They were greeted by a woman driven to utter madness!

Swish, swish!

Another flurry of flying needles sailed through the air.

Throwing the needles, Maria instantly switched back to her pistol.

Bang, bang...

Three more soldiers took hits.

Yet these soldiers were no fools.

Only a single stranger had appeared outside the military-controlled zone.

Rat-tat-tat...

A stream of bullets erupted from their steam-powered rifles, tearing toward the woman.

Maria was no hero from a blockbuster film; she was an Awakened, but she was still human, and she could not shrug off bullets.

Even clad in body armor, the kinetic force of the incoming rounds drove her staggering backward.

Yet even as she retreated, she kept a death grip on her firearm, sending bullet after bullet back toward the enemy.

Click, click.

Her magazine was empty.

Before she realized it, she had collapsed onto the ground, sinking into a pool of blood.

Her gaze rested finally upon the body of her beloved.

She had never imagined that an experiment she had once casually discarded after a trial run would ultimately lead them both to their deaths.

At that moment, she was consumed by overwhelming regret.

If only she had handled things more thoroughly back then...