Chapter 136

Four "Polaris" utility helicopters appeared in tactical formation from behind the mountain ridge, the rocket pods slung beneath their fuselages reflecting light in the plateau sunlight.

This was the rapid-response aerial support of the White Elephant Kingdom's plateau forces; although it arrived a bit late, it still came.

"Air support! It's air support!" In the river valley, the previously morale-collapsed White Elephant soldiers burst into frantic shouts.

The big-bearded commander's raised hands froze midair; he stared at the four helicopters, and a near-manic light reignited in his eyes.

He snatched the communicator back and hoarsely shouted: "All units! Reorganize! Concentrate fire on those three mechs with the air support! This is our last chance!"

Soldiers who had already begun throwing down their weapons to surrender hesitated; some picked up their weapons again, while others continued to retreat.

They had been frightened by the fighting, but the visual sense of safety brought by the helicopters did indeed reinject a thread of illusory hope.

Inside the transport aircraft of Dragon Chant, the alarm suddenly sounded.

"An aerial threat has been detected: four medium rotary-wing aircraft, identified as Polaris Mk. III, carrying 57mm rocket pods and 12.7mm machine-gun pods." Chen Guang reported calmly.

His finger swept across the holographic control panel, calling up more detailed data.

"Fifteen kilometers away, speed 140 knots, expected to reach the attack position in two minutes twenty seconds."

Feng Yan watched the monitor, his face showing no ripple: "Commander Lei, handle it according to the plan."

"Understood." Lei Jindong's voice came over, carrying the composure of a hunter waiting for prey to enter a trap.

In the river valley, the three Bixie mechs simultaneously halted their advance.

They turned, forming a triangular back-to-back formation facing the direction from which the helicopters approached.

To an outsider this looked like preparing to defend, but to those who know—if any—it resembled more the setting up of a firing range.

"They're scared! They're scared of the air firepower!" the White Elephant commander exclaimed, his voice trembling with excitement.

"All units with rocket launchers! Coordinate with the air strike! Aim at the same target! Quickly!"

The remaining twenty-odd RPG-7s and a few Milan anti-tank missiles were remounted.

Although the previous concentrated fire had been ineffective, with the air support one might wonder—what if?

People are always willing to believe in the "what if" they hope for.

Two minutes ten seconds later, the helicopter formation entered the attack position.

"Attack! All units attack!" the commander shouted hoarsely.

Almost simultaneously—

On the ground, a dozen or so rockets and anti-tank missiles, trailing white smoke, lunged at the same Bixie.

In the air, the four helicopters fired their rocket pods in unison, over eighty 57mm rockets pouring down like a steel rain, the barrage covering the entire area.

This was the densest, most ferocious wave of fire coverage the White Elephant forces had managed to organize in this battle.

The fire of the explosions instantly engulfed the position of the three mechs.

The continuous explosions merged into a sustained, deafening roar.

The shockwave kicked up dust and debris several meters high, forming a wall of death mixed with flames and thick smoke.

The White Elephant soldiers in the river valley held their breath, staring fixedly at the blast center.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

The firelight gradually faded, and the thick smoke slowly dispersed in the plateau wind.

Then everyone saw a sight they would never forget.

The three Bixie mechs still stood firm in their original positions.

Completely unscathed.

Not only were they unscathed—around them a translucent hemispheric shimmer of pale blue light was slowly fading.

The shield still bore traces of energy ripples, like the spreading circles on a calm lake after a stone is dropped.

Rockets, missiles, and all the explosions were completely blocked by this shield.

Even the ground beneath the mechs was not blackened by the explosions.

"An... energy shield..." a White Elephant technical officer slumped to the ground, his binoculars falling from his hands.

"It's actually a combat-ready energy shield... how is this possible..."

This is not a sci-fi movie; this is reality.

And reality is even more despairing than the movies.

Inside the cabin of Dragon Chant, Zhao Kaiyuan stared at the energy monitoring data and nodded in satisfaction.

"Peak load reached sixty-seven percent of design value, the energy loop runs stably, and the cooling system is working normally." He reported.

"The shield generator's efficiency exceeds laboratory data by three point two percent, and the low-temperature plateau environment gives a positive boost to the superconducting materials."

"Nice." Feng Yan said, "Chen Guang, it's your turn."

"Received."

In the river valley, the three Bixie mechs simultaneously raised their right arms.

The armor plates on the arms slid open, revealing the internal precision laser emitter array.

The hexagonal prism crystals reflected a rainbow halo in the sunlight, and visible red energy began to flow through the conduits.

In the air, the pilots of the four Polaris helicopters were still immersed in the shock of their previous attack's ineffectiveness.

The lead pilot shook his head vigorously and shouted over the comms: "Second wave! Prepare for the second wave—"

He didn't finish his sentence.

Because the three mechs opened fire simultaneously.

Not missiles, not shells, but lasers.

Six crimson laser beams shot forth at light speed, leaving in the air a brief trail of high-temperature distortion.

There was no sound, no recoil, only the faint humming emitted by the laser's cooling system.

The beam's duration was extremely short, each lasting about 0.3 seconds.

But the effect was devastating.

The first helicopter— the long‑range one—had its main rotor shaft precisely hit by the laser.

The high‑strength alloy instantly melted and vaporized at tens of thousands of degrees, the rotor lost its support, and the whole helicopter began to spin and descend like a kite with its line cut.

The second aircraft tried to maneuver to evade, but the laser beam had already pre‑emptively anticipated its movement.

The beam swept across the fuselage side, cutting open the fuel tank, drive shaft, and parts of the control system.

The helicopter spewed thick smoke, lost control, and veered to one side.

The third helicopter fared the worst.

The pilot tried to fire a jamming projectile, but the laser beam struck the cockpit directly.

The bullet‑proof glass was like butter before the laser, instantly melting a fist‑sized hole.

The high temperature, depressurization, and instrument damage inside the cockpit caused the helicopter to lose control.

The fourth helicopter made the most sensible choice—turning around and fleeing.

The pilot pushed the speed to the limit, trying to use the ridge as cover.

But it was already too late.

The laser emitter on the shoulder of Number Three "Bi An" adjusted by a tiny angle and fired a fourth beam.

The beam spanned eight hundred meters, precisely hitting the connection of the helicopter's tail boom.

The tail boom snapped.

The helicopter lost balance, spun and crashed into the ridge, turning into a fireball with a huge bang.

From the laser firing to the total destruction of all four helicopters took a total of 4.7 seconds.

The river valley fell into dead silence again.

This time, even the wind seemed to have stopped.

All White Elephant soldiers looked up, staring blankly at the four descending fireballs and black smoke in the sky.

Then they looked again at the three iron giants that had just completed the "four‑kill" yet hadn't moved from their positions.

Clang.

Someone else dropped their weapon.

But this time, the sound of guns being thrown blended into a chorus.

"Surrender… we surrender…"

"Stop fighting… this can't be fought…"

However, just as most soldiers had given up resistance, a roar of engines and the crushing sound of metal tracks suddenly came from deep within the valley.

Three T‑90S main battle tanks rolled out from concealment.

They were the prized assets of the White Elephant Nation's plateau troops, hidden in the deepest part of the valley until now as the final trump card.

Each weighed forty‑six tons, mounted a 125 mm smoothbore gun, and was dubbed the "Plateau Iron Cavalry."

"Tank! Our tanks are out!"

The already shattered morale strangely revived a glimmer.

The bearded commander, as if clutching the last lifeline, screamed into the communicator, "Tank units! Armor‑piercing rounds! Aim at the one in the exact center! Fire!"

The three T‑90S tanks fired almost simultaneously.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Three 3BM42 "Mango" AP rounds left the barrel at over 1,700 m/s, heading straight for Number Three "Bi An."

It was a fin‑stabilized, discarding‑sabot AP round capable of penetrating nearly 600 mm of homogeneous steel armor—the ultimate spear of tank killers and the land‑war king.

Then, this "strongest spear" struck the "strongest shield."

When the AP round was still thirty meters from the mech, the pale‑blue energy shield re‑activated.

But this time, the shield's shape changed—it was no longer a uniform hemisphere, but condensed and thickened toward the incoming projectile, its color shifting from light blue to deep blue.

The AP round slammed into the solidified energy field.

There was no explosion, because the AP round does not rely on explosive damage.

But everyone saw that the three rounds, capable of piercing the frontal armor of most main battle tanks in the world, slowed sharply upon hitting the shield, their bodies twisting and deforming.

Finally, like a soda can crushed by an invisible giant hand, they fell powerless onto the ground before the mech's feet.

A few crisp clinks.

The three twisted metal lumps rolled a few turns on the gravel, then stopped.

The whole scene fell into dead silence.

Even the tank crew forgot to load the next round.

At that moment, Number Three "Bi An" moved, heading toward the three tanks.

Step by step, heavy and steady.

The T‑90S's autoloader finally completed loading the next round.

"Fire! Keep firing!" the tank commander roared.

But the gunner's hand trembled; the iron giant in the sight was steadily closing in, the pressure pressing on everyone's hearts through the observation port.

Boom!

Another AP round was fired.

It was again easily blocked by the shield.

The mech had already reached a point fifty meters from the first tank.

It halted, lifting its right arm.

This time, the front of the arm armor morphed and unfolded into a blade.

A giant laser blade over three meters long, with dark-red energy patterns flowing across its entire body.

The moment the laser blade activated, moisture in the air vaporized, emitting a 'hiss' sound.

Light around the blade twisted, the heat making nearby scenery look as if viewed through fire.

The mech gripped the blade with both hands, assuming a standard two-handed sword stance.

Then, it charged.

The four-meter-tall steel body burst with astonishing speed, covering fifty meters in an instant.

The turret of the first T-90S frantically turned, but it was too slow.

The laser blade swung down.

Not a chop, but a slice.

The blade sliced into the joint between the tank's turret and hull, the high-temperature laser instantly melting through the armor and severing the turret's rotation mechanism.

Then the blade pulled sideways, cutting a four-meter-long gash in the tank's side armor.

The metal at the cut melted into molten red steel, dripping drop by drop onto the ground, burning small pits.

The mech retracted the blade and stepped back two steps.

That T-90S's turret skewed to one side, completely losing combat capability.

The gunner of the second tank finally aimed and fired.

The armor-piercing round was again blocked by the shield.

Meanwhile, the mech had already rushed to its front.

This time, the laser blade thrust forward, piercing the thickest part of the tank's front armor directly on the turret face.

The blade pierced in and withdrew, leaving a melted-edged hole thirty centimeters in diameter.

Through the hole, one could see electric sparks flashing inside the tank and the panicked crew.

The driver of the third tank made the bravest—or perhaps most foolish—decision.

He shifted into reverse, backing up at full speed while turning the turret, hoping to open distance and fight again.

But the mech gave it no chance.

The vector nozzle on Number Three 'Prison Beast' ignited, immense thrust launching its twelve-ton steel body into the air!

The mech arced through the air, landing precisely at the rear flank of the third tank.

The laser blade came down from a diagonal above.

Hiss—

The tank's engine compartment was completely sliced open, diesel pouring out from the ruptured fuel tank.

The propulsion system failed, leaving the tank immobilized in place.

The mech sheathed its blade, the laser edge deactivated, and the dark‑red energy patterns gradually faded.

It turned its body, gazing at the three "Plateau Iron Cavalry" vehicles spewing blue smoke and completely combat‑ineffective, while its head sensor flashed a faint red light.

Then it raised its mechanical arm and made an internationally recognized gesture toward all the White Elephant soldiers in the valley who could still move.

Then it curled its index finger.

Come on.

This silent provocation was more lethal than any artillery barrage.

"Clang."

The communicator in the big‑bearded commander's hand finally fell to the ground.

His knees gave way, he knelt on the ground, and he clutched his head with both hands.

This time, it was truly over.

Inside the Dragon Chant's cabin, Wang Hao whistled.

"These guys are awesome, playing so cool." He rubbed his hands, "But isn't it my Peregrine Falcon's turn to go out now? If I don't fight, I'll miss my chance!"

Chen Guang pushed up his glasses: "According to the Torch Dragon's battlefield situation analysis, the enemy's organized resistance has basically collapsed."

But on the eastern and western slopes, about two companies of remnants were regrouping, attempting to establish a blocking position to cover the main force's retreat.

Feng Yan watched the monitor screen and nodded.

"Wang Hao."

"Here!"

"Give yourself one minute to prepare. Target: the enemy assembly area on the east and west slopes."

"All right!" Wang Hao jumped up excitedly, rushed to his weapon console, "Brother Hao, I've been waiting for this moment forever!"

In the valley, the three prison‑guard beasts turned again and began advancing steadily toward the valley's depths.

And behind them, the launch hatch beneath the Dragon Chant transport was slowly opening.