Chapter 90: Cat Toying with Mice

Shiteyin stood on the command post, calmly observing the battlefield through a telescope.

The continuous rocket barrage lit the battlefield like daylight. The proud formation of the Eastern Ninth Division had completely collapsed, and panicked fleeing soldiers were everywhere.

"It seems they have never experienced such firepower," Shiteyin said with a cold smile, "This is the power of modern warfare."

Through the telescope, an Eastern officer was trying to organize a defense line. He drew his sword and shouted at the scattered soldiers, but no one listened. A rocket exploded near him, and the massive shockwave threw him aloft, the sword slipping from his hand, his body crashing to the ground like a rag doll.

Farther away, a group of soldiers were frantically shoving each other, fighting for a still‑operable truck. Just as they finally clambered onto it, a rocket landed precisely in front of the vehicle. The explosion flipped the truck, and a mournful scream rose from the flames.

"Report, Colonel," Wei Deiman walked up to Shiteyin, "The third salvo has been completed, the rocket artillery is reloading."

"Very well," Shiteyin nodded, "Have them aim at that forest; I've seen many enemies fleeing that way."

Through the telescope, indeed a large number of fleeing soldiers were scrambling toward the forest. But the cover the forest offered was meaningless before the Leader's Staff. The high‑explosive warheads not only pulverized the trees, but, more terrifyingly, countless shrapnel flew through the woods, tearing any hidden enemies to pieces.

"The enemy's heavy artillery regiment has been destroyed," Wei Deiman continued reporting, "Their command system is also completely crippled."

Shiteyin lowered the telescope and glanced at his watch: "Twenty minutes... it only took twenty minutes for a fully‑manned Eastern division to be shattered."

He squinted, a grim smile curling at the corner of his mouth: "It's time to send the Armored Grenade Troop into action."

"Relay my orders," Shiteyin's voice carried murderous intent, "Tiger Tanks lead, Leopard Tanks cover the two flanks. Armored Grenade Troop follows, completely clearing the battlefield. Not a single enemy may be spared!"

"Yes, sir!"

Soon, the roar of engines sounded. Twelve Tiger Tanks rolled out first, their 88 mm main gun muzzles flashing coldly in the firelight. Twenty‑four Leopard Tanks followed closely, spreading into two wings.

The Armored Grenade Troop quickly boarded armored personnel carriers, staying behind the tank formation. They were elite, rigorously trained, and with modern equipment, dealing with the already shattered Eastern troops was as easy as cutting fruit.

From afar, occasional sounds of ammunition detonating echoed. The Ninth Division's ammunition depot was ignited by rockets, with violent explosions rising one after another. Orange‑red flames painted half the sky, and thick smoke rose slowly into the night.

Shiteyin raised the telescope again. In the view, Xiaoye Zuozuo staggered through the ruins, trying to reorganize his troops. But it was already futile. Under such onslaught, even the most elite units would collapse.

The whistling of the fourth wave of rockets had already begun, and at the same time the armored forces' thunderous strike was about to commence. Shiteyin knew that once this was over, the Eastern Ninth Division would be erased from history...

The engines of the armored units roared, growing louder as they approached through the night.

Tiger Tanks' heavy tracks rolled over craters and ruins, the sixty‑ton steel behemoths maintaining their speed. The 88 mm long‑barrel gun muzzles flickered coldly in the firelight, and the MG34 machine gun mounted on the armor was ready to fire at any moment.

Leopard Tanks were more agile; their forty‑five‑ton chassis paired with a seven‑hundred‑horsepower engine allowed them to easily keep pace with the fleeing soldiers. The curves of the tank armor were both graceful and fierce, looking like predatory beasts in the firelight.

The Armored Grenade Troop rode in the latest Sd. Kfz. 251 armored personnel carrier. Its half‑track design let it handle all terrain, and the MG42 machine gun mounted on it could deliver powerful fire support.

"Look at those Easterners," an armored soldier said from the vehicle commander's observation port, "They're buzzing around like headless flies."

The fleeing soldiers had indeed lost all sense of direction. Some raced along the main road, some darted into the woods, and many simply instinctively moved away from the explosions. But they soon realized that no matter which way they fled, they could hear the rumble of tracks crushing the ground.

"No need to hurry," the tank commander ordered over the radio, "Let them run; the farther they run, the better."

The armored units deliberately slowed, keeping a tantalizing distance from the fleeing soldiers. Like a cat toying with a mouse, they let the prey taste despair.

Suddenly, a squad of Eastern officers led the charge, brandishing swords as they rushed the nearest Leopard Tank.

"Stupid! Serve His Majesty the Emperor!"

But before they could reach the tank, they were shredded by machine‑gun fire. The MG42's astonishing rate of 1,200 rounds per minute harvested lives among the fleeing soldiers, a rain of bullets pouring down.

A few Eastern soldiers tried to attack the tank with Hand Grenades. But the cheap Hand Grenades could only spark a few sparks on the heavy armor plating, not even scratching the paint.

"These homemade bombs are worse than firecrackers," an armored soldier laughed, "Looks like they truly have no modern equipment at all."

A group of fleeing soldiers rushed into a roadside farmhouse. The Tiger Tank's main gun roared, and a high‑explosive shell leveled the house. A few Eastern soldiers crawled out of the rubble, only to be cut down by the machine‑gunner on the armored carrier.

"Is this the army they brag about?" a member of the Armored Grenade Troop sneered, "They're nothing but a bunch of worthless trash."

The Eastern army's proud close‑quarters sword and melee fighting was utterly useless.

Their Model‑30 rifle posed no threat to tank armor, and even the grenade launched from a grenade tube could only leave a shallow dent on the armor plate.

Xiaoye Zuozuo stood on a height, watching helplessly as his troops were harvested by the armored forces like wheat. Wherever the steel torrent flowed, gunfire, explosions and screams rose in succession.

He felt for the first time what a dimensional‑reduction strike was.

Those steel behemoths were like demons from the future, rampaging unchecked across the battlefield. And his once‑proud division could not even mount a decent resistance under such onslaught.

"Assemble! Come to me!" he shouted hoarsely, trying to rally a final resistance.

But the response was a Tiger Tank's main gun. The shell whistled over his head and detonated behind him.

The blast wave knocked him to the ground, and when he struggled to rise, he found himself surrounded by armored units...

It should be noted that this Eastern army, beaten utterly helpless, was no second‑rate force.

The Ninth Division was one of the earliest standing divisions of the Eastern Army, having earned distinguished records from the Eastern Russo‑Japanese War through World War I.

Most of their officers were top graduates of the NCO school, and the soldiers were elite, hardened by rigorous training.

In previous battles, the division had repeatedly defeated larger forces, even launching bayonet charges when ammunition and supplies ran out, tearing through enemy lines with their bayonets.

Yet now, this fearsome elite, faced with the Ghost Master's firepower, was so vulnerable. It was not merely a gap in strength, but a chasm of eras.

Like heavily‑armored knights of the medieval age meeting a machine gun, even the most elite troops cannot withstand the crushing force of technology.