First Battlefield Commander! - Chapter 161
Chapter 161: Footprints
The Red Team aggressively pushed forward as Lian Sheng emerged directly from underwater, charging to the front lines.
The hesitant students at the front steeled themselves and rushed ahead. The troops roared as they blocked the Red Team's advance, pushing forward relentlessly.
The two sides collided instantly, locked in a fierce standoff, neither yielding an inch.
At such close range, no one dared use thermal weapons. Not only was there a high risk of injuring allies, but even a slight miss could hit the captives in the pool, resulting in immediate disqualification—a consequence too dire to risk.
Moreover, due to the thickness of the mech armor, melee weapons without propulsion assistance could hardly penetrate the defenses.
And with everyone packed tightly together, even wielding weapons became difficult.
The scene instantly devolved into a primitive brawl. For a mech battle map, this development was... peculiar, to say the least.
The spectators' expressions cracked slightly before they tilted their heads and continued watching.
Only the two mechs still submerged in the pool remained completely safe. They calmly fired at the shore, becoming the most lethal participants in the current phase of the match.
However, due to the extreme proximity, the targets in their scopes were magnified. With everyone shoving and positions constantly shifting, aiming was exceptionally challenging.
They alternated between checking their scopes and peeking out to gauge distances, double-checking multiple times before daring to fire.
In this situation, even a slight miss could hit their own teammates, potentially causing panic.
Watching their comrades fighting desperately ahead, the two chosen soldiers felt complicated emotions.
At this point, they were likely the only ones in both teams who knew the truth—there were no captives in the water. The pool was empty, chillingly so, like going commando in winter.
But since Lian Sheng hadn't revealed the truth, they didn't dare speak up. Maintaining their expressions of solemn ignorance, they provided covering fire.
Zhao Zhuoluo, with his immense strength, managed to break free and fight back, while Lian Sheng lurked behind, delivering opportunistic strikes.
If only mechs had vulnerable spots like groins or pressure points—she could've taken down a crowd with just a few well-placed kicks.
The others were mostly subjected to beatings, stompings, or being shoved aside.
They clung to each other, gritting their teeth. But under the relentless pushing, their formations twisted and deformed, leaving them in poor condition.
"Dammit, I'll self-destruct!" one student yelled. "Keep crowding me and I'll blow us all up!"
The opposing student retorted without hesitation: "Go ahead! If you don't, you're just full of hot air! You think we're scared?"
Enraged, the first student roared and shoved back harder.
Clearly, the Red Team had more heavy mechs at the front. A self-destruct would hurt them far less than it would the White Team—it'd be a true kamikaze move.
But these heavy mechs were strong, bulky, and nearly impossible to push back.
As the pool drew closer and Lian Sheng still hadn't issued any substantial commands, sweat beaded on their foreheads. They were getting anxious.
What the hell? She'd been so composed earlier, analyzing everything—why was she suddenly clueless now?
"...!" A White Team student, on the verge of collapse, shouted: "Commander! Help!"
Lian Sheng said: "Hold the line!"
The student: "Reporting—tonnage insufficient! I'm about to get launched!"
Seeing the outer support troops' movements, an inner-circle student screeched: "Stop pushing from behind, damn it! You're just shoving us further in! Are the rear guys all idiots?!"
"Who the hell are you calling idiots? Screw you!"
"You got a death wish or something?"
Chaos reigned, and the commander made no move to intervene.
The scene was utterly baffling. The White Team commander seemed to have abruptly gone offline.
Both teams were bewildered, unsure when things had spiraled out of control. They could only struggle on, but even their efforts were nearing their limits.
Lian Sheng, leveraging her agility, slipped under Zhao Zhuoluo's arm as he fought fiercely. Simultaneously, she used her mech's bulk to trip Comrade Zhao Excellent.
Two heavy mechs seized the chance to grab her legs and fling her aside before doing the same to Zhao Zhuoluo.
Rather than toppling the front line, it was easier to just hurl them outward.
Lian Sheng's Pojun mech was slammed to the ground, and enemy mechs surged past her.
One opponent raised a blade, aiming to claim a kill.
Lian Sheng smirked, twisted mid-air to block with her own weapon, landed, and scrambled back.
The troops, realizing their commander had truly gone AWOL, froze momentarily before resuming their desperate resistance. But the Red Team's morale was soaring—how could they hold them back?
"What's going on? Requesting backup!" a student cried. "Vice Commander, what if the commander's been turned by the enemy?"
Lu Mingyuan said: "Await orders! Stay calm, assess the situation, and maintain formation!"
"Listen up! Fall back, everyone fall back!" Lian Sheng, now at a safe distance, barked into the comms. "Central units, withdraw! Let them have the waterfall. Prep for cleanup!"
Lian Sheng added: "Make it look natural when you get pushed out. Know what 'natural' means?"
Fang Jianchen and the other snipers, waiting for the final order, watched the chaotic movements through their scopes. Unable to resist, he quipped: "Like when you're constipated—just go with the flow."
The two still in the pool took their cue and leaped out. The front-line mechs effortlessly ejected them from the fray.
Lian Sheng shouted: "Retreat! Fall back now! Those who can't escape will have to sacrifice themselves!"
After a brief hesitation, the others released their grips and pushed outward.
Even if they couldn't hold the line anymore, they could regroup and block the enemy's advance.
The White Team's behavior lulled the Red Team into complacency. They charged into the waterfall with reckless abandon.
Success!
Their faces lit up with triumph.
The Red Team commander ordered: "Rear guard, stay alert for counterattacks! Prepare to withdraw!"
Four soldiers plunged into the pool, searching for the captives.
"All units, ready!" Lian Sheng commanded. "Aim for the center—open fire!"
In an instant, over a dozen dark muzzles from afar zeroed in on the river beneath the waterfall.
"Careful! Don't shoot!" a student panicked. "If the captives die, it's on us! Whoever kills them loses!"
Lian Sheng remained unmoved. "Fire at will—"
Captives couldn't be killed. If they could, hiding them wouldn't have been necessary. Killing a captive meant instant disqualification.
As no one surfaced, both teams had an epiphany.
The real captives weren't underwater.
The Red Team commander looked up, gaze unfocused.
Lian Sheng gave the order: "Fire!"
A barrage of shells rained down on the clustered Red Team. Lian Sheng raised her weapon and joined the onslaught.
Crimson flames flared and faded, black smoke mingling with white mist.
Water sprayed everywhere, drenching the slick rocks. The droplets hung in the air like a downpour before cascading down, refracting sunlight into fleeting rainbows.
The roar of water and explosions drowned out all other noise.
The surroundings were deafening yet eerily hollow.
The White Team could've fired blind, expending their entire arsenal—though their stockpile had never been large to begin with.
Once their shells were spent, the obscured battlefield made precise sniping impossible. Shots flew wildly.
From confusion to disbelief to euphoria, they gleefully unloaded their energy weapons.
Yet the Red Team reacted swiftly. Without explicit orders, they instinctively took evasive measures.
Some dove underwater, where the depth absorbed some of the blasts and blocked sniper sightlines. With ample oxygen in their cockpits and allies nearby, staying submerged was temporarily safe.
Outer units retreated instantly, creating space while neutralizing rear threats.
Center units flattened themselves to minimize blast impact.
Though battered, their actual losses were under ten mechs. Aside from those in the water, most sustained only minor damage.
The Red Team commander exhaled sharply.
A nearby heavy shielded him, taking the brunt of the attack and sparing him major harm.
Compared to the trap's psychological blow, losing the commander would've been far worse.
He'd known about the ambush. Earlier flanking strikes had been sparse, and reconnaissance by two Fengyi mechs reported only scattered snipers with no extra gear.
Just ordinary snipers—they had those too. Hunting them was pointless and would only divert focus.
Once exposed, snipers were manageable by controlling angles and shielding weak points—especially against the new mechs' enhanced armor.
Since the Fengyi's primary mission was locating captives, they'd avoided engagement.
The White Team must've stockpiled shells, but in their haste, the Red Team hadn't noticed. The "self-destruct" threat had misled them into assuming all explosives were carried individually.
Turns out, they'd been consolidated.
The Red Team commander steadied himself and adapted.
He ordered the front line to form an arrowhead formation, fighting their way out while snipers guarded against encirclement. Simultaneously, they cleared space for their submerged comrades.
"Casualty report by squad number!" he commanded. "Front line, defensive stance—regroup first!"
Silently, the Red Team reorganized.
Every available weapon was deployed to suppress White Team fire and buy breathing room.
They weren't giving up yet.
With nearly thirty mechs left in a rescue scenario, a comeback was possible. Find the real captives, return them to base—even a flawed victory was still victory.
If the White Team was here, the real captives were lightly guarded. A surprise assault could still turn the tide.
But disadvantage was insidious—like a rabid dog snapping at your heels.
You might shake it off around the next corner, or it might drag you down first.
The Red Team needed a morale boost. Their confidence, though present, was waning under pressure, offering little drive.
Without reversing their disadvantage, they'd be ground down to nothing.
The commander contacted his scouts: "Status on the targets?"
The Fengyi pilot replied urgently: "Underground's clear! We've swept the area—nothing!"
The commander paused. "Any gaps?"
"None. It's pristine—almost no footprints..." The pilot trailed off. "Wait! Ah—!"
How could there be no footprints? The forest was their spawn zone—had no one passed through?
The lack of tracks was itself suspicious.
"Got it! Searching now!" the Fengyi said.
The sun dipped westward.
As time passed, shadows lengthened and shifted.
Dappled light flickered across the Fengyi's view.
Gasping, exhausted from nonstop sprinting, his heart pounded as if trying to escape his chest.
Afraid of missing orders, he suppressed his racing thoughts.
Their predicament was dire—he couldn't stop now.
The pilot took a deep breath, steadied himself, and pressed on, scanning the canopy.
His eyelids felt heavy, probably from sweat. He shook his head and ignored it.
Earlier, he'd fixated on the ground because initial intel suggested underground hiding spots. Their sensors were calibrated accordingly.
Repeated hints had ingrained the assumption, blinding him to other possibilities.
He smiled bitterly.
Hidden footprints meant this area was suspicious—likely the real hiding place. And those dense trees overhead? Equally suspect.
If only he'd realized sooner.
Suddenly, he halted.
This hadn't been here before. Perhaps wind had disturbed the foliage, or the sun's new angle revealed what was concealed.
Light filtered through the leaves, casting scattered, shimmering dots.
His heart hammered as he opened comms: "Target sighted! At—"
A blast cut him off.
Even saints would curse now.
The Red Team commander watched the blip vanish from radar and swore twice.
What was it like to hear hope ignite, then get snuffed out?
He didn't know. He just knew he was pissed.
Lian Sheng received confirmation that their guards had eliminated the scout.
She glanced at the enemy commander, as if seeing his silent tears through the mech, and grinned. "Well done. Relocate immediately—the farther from us, the better. Stay hidden and track our movements."
Gunfire still raged.
With the Red Team cornered, Lian Sheng wouldn't let them recover. She pressed the assault from all sides, determined to wipe them out.
From the rear, she announced: "The comrade who accused me of defecting—step forward."
The White Team pretended not to hear.
She repeated herself.
"What nonsense! Who'd say that, Lian-ge?"
"Lian-jie, honesty is key! How could you deceive us?"
"I believed it! I was ready to turn on you! My tears could fill buckets—how will you compensate me?"
"We almost had a mutiny! That's not funny!"
"Hey, who cursed my ancestors earlier? I'm not forgiving that!"
"Quiet!" Lian Sheng snapped. "Your acting is atrocious."
All they could do was scream "Ahhh!" or "Kill me!"—useless.
"Redeem yourselves now—show no mercy!"
The battle was brutal. Though the Red Team stood no chance of winning, they fought desperately.
They broke through to the scout's last location, hoping against hope that Lian Sheng—being the lunatic she was—hadn't moved the captives. They found only wreckage.
Furious, they concluded Lian Sheng was indeed insane.
Clueless about the real hiding spot, they wandered aimlessly, clashing repeatedly.
Driven by stubborn determination, the last three mechs scattered across the map before being hunted down, ending the six-hour match.
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