Chapter 135: The Aesthetics of Power

Dust settled slowly, and three "Bi'an" mechs stood in the middle of the river valley, like three steel peaks that had suddenly risen from the ground.

The first to react were the White Elephant elite soldiers equipped with Mountain Hunting Dog exoskeletons.

Training and instinct overrode the initial shock, and they almost instinctively raised the weapons in their hands.

"Open fire!" a lieutenant shouted hoarsely, "Aim for the joints! Aim for the sensors!"

"Bang bang bang bang—"

Rifle bullets poured out, tracing pale white streaks through the thin highland air, striking the dragon‑scale armor and splashing a spray of sparks.

The "Clang clang" sounds merged into one, like someone hammering an iron barrel.

Bullets either ricocheted away or were stopped outright by the outermost composite layer of the armor, falling to the ground without even scraping off the primer.

The targeted Bi'an—its paint indicating it was Bi'an‑1 model Unit 3—did not even adopt a defensive stance.

It merely turned its head slowly, its sensors locking onto the most aggressive fireteam.

Then, it moved.

The twelve‑ton steel body took a step, causing the ground to tremble slightly.

Sand and stones rattled down from the edge of the mech's foot.

The fireteam's soldiers fired wildly, some even switching to armor‑piercing rounds.

But the bullets hitting the armor had the same effect as before.

In just two steps, the mech was already before them.

The shadow cast by the over‑four‑meter‑tall steel body completely enveloped the five soldiers in exoskeletons.

They looked up, watching the mech lower its head, its sensors flashing a pale blue light, like a beast scrutinizing ants beneath its feet.

Then, the mech raised its left arm.

Its mechanical hand opened; each of its five fingers was as thick as an adult's forearm, its surface covered with fine dragon‑scale armor plates.

It reached for a tactical assault transport vehicle parked beside the fireteam.

That vehicle was specially designed to transport the Mountain Hunting Dog exoskeletons, weighing about three tons, fitted with light armor and a remote‑controlled weapon station.

"No… don't… ah" the driver in the vehicle had just pushed the door open, trying to flee.

The next second, the mech's arm swung upward.

The motion was as smooth as opening a book's cover.

The entire three‑ton steel vehicle was lifted up effortlessly!

The vehicle rolled half a circle in the air, its underside up, and "Boom—" it slammed onto a clearing five meters away.

The impact shattered all the windows, twisted the hull, and the four wheels spun idly from inertia.

The co‑pilot, who hadn't had time to escape, was knocked unconscious in his seat.

And the mech that flipped the vehicle didn't even glance at the car again.

It retracted its arm and continued forward, as if it had merely brushed aside a pebble on the road.

Silence.

Deathly silence.

All the White Elephant soldiers who witnessed the scene stopped firing, their mouths agape, and several weapons slipped from their hands onto the ground.

"This… this can't be…" someone muttered.

"That car… three tons… he lifted it like a toy…"

"Retreat! Retreat!" finally an officer reacted, shouting over the communication channel.

"We can't handle this! Call for artillery support! Call—"

His words cut off abruptly.

Because another Bi'an—Unit 2—had already locked onto his command node.

The mech didn't charge; it raised its right arm, the six‑barrel rapid‑fire cannon on its arm armor turning slowly, locking on.

"Evade! Evade quickly!" the officer's face turned ashen as he scrambled away from the command vehicle.

A faint blue flash flickered from the cannon's muzzle.

Then, the officer found the Mountain Hunting Dog exoskeleton on his body suddenly locked up.

The power system still ran, but all joints were seized, leaving him frozen in a half‑crouch, unable to move.

"What's happening? The power armor failed!"

"Mine too!"

"The control system was jammed!"

Shouts of alarm rose in succession.

Centered on the officer, within a fifty‑meter radius, all soldiers equipped with Mountain Hunting Dog exoskeletons experienced the same condition.

Their exoskeletons suddenly "crashed", locking them in their current poses.

Some were running, some were raising their weapons, some were about to lie prone.

Now, they were all living targets.

Inside the Dragon Chant transport, Chen Guang pushed his glasses up, glanced at the monitor and nodded.

"Directional electromagnetic pulse jamming is effective," he reported calmly.

"The Mountain Hunting Dog's emergency shielding is decent, but the control circuit's redundancy is insufficient."

"Their backup systems will come online in three seconds, but by then it will be too late."

"Well done," Feng Yan's voice came over the main channel.

"Li Yang, how's the battlefield data analysis?"

Li Yang was staring at the six split screens before him, each scrolling with various real‑time data:

All three "Bi'an" units' output remained stable; the dragon‑scale armor endured a total of 427 light‑weapon hits, with surface temperature rising no more than three degrees.

The joint actuation mechanisms operated smoothly, and the high‑altitude low‑temperature environment caused no effect.

He paused, then added, "But the pilot of Unit Three got a bit carried away; the power output of that vehicle‑flipping maneuver exceeded the tactical guideline recommendation by fifteen percent."

"Did you hear that, Unit Three?" Lei Jindong's voice interjected, with a hint of a smile.

"Pull back a bit; fuel and energy are money too."

In the river valley, the pilot of Unit Three—a Dragon‑Rider Guard major codenamed Shan Mao—let out a chuckle:

"Lei Tou, I'm just doing it for the visual effect. Look, the effect is great; the enemy is terrified."

Indeed, the effect is excellent.

The morale of the White Elephant Force is collapsing at a visibly rapid rate.

Nevertheless, there are three reinforced battalions, and an Eagle Country advisor overseeing the battle from behind.

Deep in the valley, the real counter‑attack finally organized itself.

"Don't panic! They only have three!" Commander Da Huzi climbed onto a BMP‑2 infantry fighting vehicle and shouted through the vehicle's loudspeaker.

"Tank units, move forward! Use the main gun! Use missiles! Even the thickest armor has its limits!"

The six remaining infantry fighting vehicles and four jeeps equipped with anti‑tank missiles began to advance.

At the same time, several well‑concealed mortar positions also opened fire.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

An 82 mm mortar round arced through the air, falling toward the area where the three "Bi'an" units were positioned.

The explosion kicked up dust, and shrapnel sprayed everywhere.

But after the smoke cleared, the three mechs still stood upright.

The mortar fragments struck the dragon‑scale armor, leaving not even a scratch.

"Main gun, aim! Armor‑piercing rounds!" the tank commander ordered.

The BMP‑2's 30 mm autocannon began to roar.

This time, the mech finally performed a defensive maneuver.

The three "Bi'an" units almost simultaneously raised their left arms.

The composite armor plates on the arm armor unfolded and reshaped, forming an inclined shield structure in front of the mech.

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang—

The armor‑piercing round struck the shield surface, producing a heavy impact sound.

The shield surface trembled slightly, but showed no sign of damage.

Occasionally, ricocheting rounds flew outward, carving deep grooves in the sand.

"This can't be!" the loader inside the tank muttered while mechanically loading rounds, "Those are 30 mm armor‑piercing rounds…"

"Switch to high‑explosive rounds! Keep firing!"

But there was no chance left.

After withstanding a round of bombardment, the three "Bi'an" units began their counter‑attack.

Unit One and Unit Two surged forward simultaneously, their speed suddenly increasing.

The steel bodies, over four meters tall, ran through the valley, each step shaking the ground, yet moving at astonishing speed—at least eighty kilometers per hour!

They struck like two heavy hammers, smashing into the White Elephant's tank formation.

Unit One, while running, sidestepped, and its mechanical shoulder plate slammed into the side of a BMP‑2.

Clang—

The shrill sound of metal tearing.

The tank was knocked sideways three meters, its side armor dented a large chunk, the tracks fell off, and it collapsed in place.

Unit Two was a bit more "gentle."

It rushed to a missile‑equipped jeep, lifted its mechanical foot, and then pressed down lightly.

It wasn't stepping on the vehicle, but on the ground in front of its hood.

Boom!

The ground was punched into a half‑meter‑deep crater; the shockwave bounced the jeep up, and the occupants were knocked with heads bleeding.

Then the mech extended its left hand, pinching the anti‑tank missile launcher mounted on the jeep's rear with two mechanical fingers.

A twist.

The launcher, together with its base, was ripped off the vehicle.

It casually tossed the launcher, worth several hundred thousand dollars, onto the nearby empty ground, as if discarding an empty soda can.

Unit Three did not engage in close combat.

It halted in place, its right‑shoulder armor slid aside, revealing a multi‑launch missile pod.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh—

Eight small missiles were launched in succession, each flying precisely toward a mortar position or a heavy‑machine‑gun fire point.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom—

The explosions rang throughout the valley.

The precise blasts caused the missiles to detonate in the air five to ten meters from the targets; the shockwaves and pre‑formed fragments were enough to destroy weapons and fortifications but not to kill personnel.

Thirty seconds later, all heavy‑fire points of the White Elephant Force fell silent.

The battlefield fell silent suddenly.

Only the low rumble of the mech engines and the whistling wind of the plateau remained.

The exoskeleton soldiers that had been locked by electromagnetic pulse finally brought their backup systems online, regaining mobility.

But they did not continue fighting.

They looked around—overturned tanks, demolished missile carriers, mortar positions billowing green smoke, and the three steel colossi that stood in the battlefield's center like deities.

Clang.

A soldier tossed the rifle from his hands.

Then the second, then the third.

It spread like a plague.

"Surrender..." someone murmured, "We can't hit them... we can't hit them at all..."

The bearded commander stood on the infantry fighting vehicle, watching the scene, his face ashen.

He pressed the communicator and said in a trembling voice:

"This is the front‑line command post... we have encountered... encountered an incomprehensible enemy unit... request... request..."

He paused, then looked at the three mechs slowly turning toward him.

The sensors locked onto him in rapid succession.

The commander swallowed, then corrected himself: "Request... permission to surrender."

From the communicator came the irate roar of an Eagle Country advisor: "Surrender is not permitted!"

"You still have troops! Overwhelm them with numbers! Their energy must be limited! Keep advancing!"

The commander gave a wry smile.

Limited energy?

He stared at the three mechs— they had just completed a series of high‑intensity maneuvers, yet their engine hum remained steady and powerful, the armor gleamed like new, and not even a wisp of overheating steam escaped.

Does this look like limited energy?

He inhaled deeply and turned off the communicator.

Then he drew his pistol from his waist—not to resist, but to follow military protocol—when unable to fight and unable to retreat, a commander should…

"Bang!"

A gunshot.

But it wasn't his pistol.

A bullet struck the armor plate at his foot, sparking.

The commander startled, and the pistol slipped from his hand.

He looked up and saw the nearest Bian aiming its rapid‑fire cannon at him

. The barrel dipped slightly; the previous shot was clearly a warning shot.

The mech's speaker crackled, delivering a translated, cold electronic voice:

"Put down your weapons, raise your hands and surrender. Repeat, put down your weapons, raise your hands and surrender."

The commander stared at the darkened barrel, then glanced at the surrounding soldiers who had lost the will to fight.

He slowly raised both hands.

Beyond his sight, along the ridge lines on both sides of the valley, twelve Iron Wolf assault exoskeletons and dozens of dragon‑rider guard soldiers had completed the encirclement deployment.

The real battle hadn't begun, yet the outcome was already decided.

Inside the Dragon Chant cockpit, Wang Hao glanced at the monitor and curled his lip.

"Is that all? Brother Hao, my 'Hunting Falcon' hasn't even entered the fray yet."

"What's the hurry?" Chen Guang didn't even look up.

"This is just the beginning. Their main force hasn't fully collapsed; later there will be a chance for you to shine."

Feng Yan looked at the battlefield map and calmly ordered:

"Commander Lei, tighten the encirclement. Chen Guang, ready the laser defense system; I suspect they still have a trick up their sleeve."

"Received."

In the valley, three Bian once again set foot, steadily advancing toward the densest area of the White Elephant troops.

The heavy footsteps sounded as if treading on each White Elephant soldier's heart.

Further away, toward the valley's exit, the faint roar of helicopter rotors could be heard.

White Elephant's aerial support was finally arriving.