First Battlefield Commander! - Chapter 126
Chapter 126: Stand Still
The rhythm of students falling and climbing continued throughout the entire afternoon without any breakthrough progress. This was training where even if the brain knew what to do, the body struggled to keep up.
Maintaining balance and center of gravity had become second nature to them—no one consciously thought about how to walk without stumbling or what climbing posture would minimize skeletal stress. But now, piloting mechs demanded exactly that.
Using sensors, they were still controlling their own bodies, yet manipulating massive mechs weighing several tons. With equipment configurations causing slight weight discrepancies between left and right sides, precise force control became essential.
Ordinary walking and running presented minor obstacles but weren't problematic. However, jumping—especially this horizontal bar climbing—with frequent center-of-gravity shifts exposed every operational flaw and weakness.
They now needed to relearn the fundamentals of movement like toddlers taking their first steps.
Lian Sheng finally confirmed the slight pressure difference on her shoulders wasn't an illusion but reality.
Sensors transmitted the mech's status and limb load-bearing forces to the pilot. Yet overly pronounced feedback would become burdensome, so balanced states showed minimal sensation. But at the brink of falling, the force intensified to synchronize mech and pilot movements.
This explained why hanging felt more exhausting than carrying forty kilograms.
Setting aside technique, prolonged sensor-induced strain already severely drained their stamina.
The training ground echoed with dull thuds of repeated impacts.
Students climbed halfway only to fall, then climbed again in an endless cycle that made them question life itself.
Zhao Zhuoluo knelt nearby—his most comfortable position—gazing upward while comparing screen projections of mech movements against human climbing postures.
Students moved stiffly during climbs, limbs constrained mid-motion before getting stuck. Unable to reposition under sensor pressure, they inevitably fell repeatedly.
But what alternatives existed? How to prevent this?
Lian Sheng lay supine, abandoning brute force attempts to mentally reconstruct training scenarios while confirming subtle visual disparities between mech and human perspectives.
Sinking into the soft cushion, her thoughts grew heavy. Bodily relaxation deepened the sensation of being submerged, fatigue surging until tangential ideas flooded her mind.
She recognized the onset of sleep.
An instructor called twice from afar before kicking her foot. "What? Napping already? Think this is your bedroom? Need a blanket too?"
"I'm awake," Lian Sheng said, opening her eyes. "Instructor, can we rest?"
Without deactivating the suit, she remained perpetually in mech simulation mode.
"Rest?" The instructor sneered. "Finished training already? How far did you climb?"
Sitting up, Lian Sheng gestured vaguely. "Let's just say progress is... elusive."
Her falls resulted from insufficient arm strength, misjudged distances causing missed footholds, or attempting shortcuts by toe-grabbing bars—a tactic foiled by mech footplates lacking human flexibility, sending her crashing down instead.
The scaffold's gaps widened inward, offering fewer adjustment points. Her furthest reach ended midway when exhausted arms gave out.
Rising again, she prepared another attempt.
An instructor lounged nearby, bragging to colleagues: "Give them scaffolding and they'll play for days. Love dumb students—makes our job easier."
His companion retorted, "Calling them dumb? They're your past selves."
"Not everyone's youth warrants nostalgia," the instructor scoffed. "Some are born winners—like those mastering this in three hours!"
He deliberately projected for student ears.
Young? They're still young too—just newer soldiers. Students ignored the bragging.
Early attempts ending in failure, veterans conserved energy by mentally rehearsing stable postures beneath the scaffold.
They needed a data analyst—this wasn't their forte.
Amidst diligent efforts, sudden screams erupted from the structure.
Instructors jolted upright.
"Shitshitshit!" Fang Jianchen yelled. "I'm stuck! Completely stuck!"
All eyes found him inverted at a right angle—legs hooked on a crossbar while hands gripped an upright pole. Attempted rollovers proved futile.
"Release your hands or legs and you'll come down," Lian Sheng advised.
"The mech's stuck! My legs won't move!" Fang Jianchen wailed. "Back's breaking! Head too! Help!"
Instructors facepalmed before deactivating his sensors. Freed from constraints, Fang Jianchen bent his knees and dropped.
"No flashy maneuvers—excessive joint articulation can jam mechs," an instructor scolded. "Real scenarios have thrusters! Don't attempt acrobatics without core strength!"
Clutching his arm, Fang Jianchen sweat profusely. "Report—I think my shoulder's dislocated!"
"Just a dislocation?" An instructor rolled sleeves. "I'll reset it."
"No thanks!" Fang Jianchen backpedaled toward the exit. "Our medic's wonderful—I'll find him!"
The instructor snorted.
"Demonstrate for us, Instructor," Lian Sheng requested. "Better than wasting time guessing."
"Too lazy to suit up," he waved dismissively. "Let the slacker show you."
Lian Sheng deadpanned. "And who exactly isn't slacking here?"
Observing her persistence, the instructor suggested, "Hard, isn't it? Pojun mechs are heavy—Qixing models are simpler for this training. You could switch."
"If I can't conquer Pojun, why bother with Qixing?" Lian Sheng countered. "Give me a demo and I'll clear this in three minutes—not hours."
"Big talk!" The instructor appraised her before bellowing, "Liu! Demonstrate!"
Ignoring the nickname, Instructor Liu retrieved gear and suited up methodically before approaching.
Students cleared space, forming an expectant circle.
Liu assessed the scaffold, selected a starting point, then leapt to grip an overhead bar.
"Watch closely—foot placement ensures stability. Toe-grabbing edges won't work. Before moving, relax to feel sensor feedback—that tells you how to adjust."
While lecturing, he single-arm hung from the bar—a feat whose difficulty only participants could appreciate, requiring tremendous arm strength.
He traversed sideways with identical motions—upper body lift, left leg swing across, rightward shift. At intersections, he carefully stood.
Then the real performance began.
Running along thicker crossbars, he reached vertical forks, clamped the pole with his legs, and ascended. At two meters, he gripped a new bar, pivoted, and flipped up.
Navigating fresh bars via alternating steps, he reached diameter changes and leapt down entire tiers like parallel bar transitions, catching new poles and adjusting footholds to support his weight.
His strategy: always follow the thickest bars. Ascents and drops became trivial.
Fluid and effortless, devoid of their clumsy wobbling, he reached the innermost section within moments before vertical climbing to the final platform.
Turning, he spread his arms. "Well? Understood?"
Lian Sheng checked her optical computer—under five minutes total.
Students stared blankly. Understood what? Who could follow that speed-demon tutorial?
Dismounting, Liu deactivated his gear. "Keep practicing. We don't expect mastery yet—just adaptation. Mech trials won't be this hard anyway; Sanyao proficiency suffices."
The crowd erupted in applause and pleas: "Again! Again!"
"Your glory blinded my aluminum eyes—one more show!"
"Let me record this masterpiece!"
Lian Sheng abstained from cheering. Eyes closed, she reconstructed the performance.
Crudely segmented, the routine contained no advanced techniques—just flawless execution born of familiarity.
Continuous motion maintained balance, minimizing sensor feedback. This proved simpler than their hesitant probing and more sustainable.
Unlike peers cross-referencing screens to calculate mech parameters—an impractical approach—she memorized the instructor's exact postures: body angles, footholds, and lift heights.
As Liu basked in praise while edging toward the exit, a figure streaked past toward the scaffold.
Everyone turned as Lian Sheng replicated his route—jump, sprint, swing—mirroring even his pauses and mannerisms.
As predicted, maintaining balance made movements feel natural. Her struggle had been reconciling visual-mechanical disparities—a gap Liu bridged perfectly, allowing her carbon-copy solution.
With balance and lower-body stability as her trademarks, she only needed to replicate equilibrium in identical motions.
"Instructor." Perched on the final platform, Lian Sheng waved cockily.
The crowd gaped upward. "Holy—shit!"
Liu's proficiency came from training—but this creature? What monstrous talent was this?
Distant instructors snapped to attention, stunned.
Occasionally, such students emerged—possessing peerless mimicry and micro-adjustment skills to complete fixed drills through flawless replication, even without fully grasping mech-body differences.
Chuckling at her smug expression, Liu called, "Copying's useless! Try a different route!"
Lian Sheng wagged a finger.
Seeing time nearly up, he announced, "Keep experimenting. Morning session's over—lunch break!"
Deactivating all student gear, he returned to the entrance. "Return equipment before leaving."
As Lian Sheng dismounted, students mobbed her.
"Not so fast!" they demanded, abandoning the instructor. "Show us again, O Great One!"
Want to dive deeper into the story? You can request bonus chapters or grab the complete Part 1 (147 chapters) as an EPUB from my Ko-fi shop!
They switch tunes so quickly🤣🤣
ReplyDelete