“Sir, it’s been confirmed. Enemy approaching from the east. Just deployed from an outpost ten clicks away…”

The City Hunters were in no condition for another battle. The enemy had completely outwitted them, sacrificing their own soldiers for the win.

Urbs gave a painful frown.

(Then again, this is war. Soldiers are but pawns in the game of chess…)

“Urbs, my troops are fast enough to intercept before the enemy even arrives. We’ll hold the fort.”

Husker volunteered his troops and mobilised them to the east. He got onto his Light Armoured Car and gestured for his driver to move off.

The strength of the incoming troops was equal or maybe stronger than the first.

“If they have another of that wretched giant whatever-you-call-it, we’re dead meat,” he murmured to himself.

“What happens then, after radiance has been invoked?” Ezra asked his attending physician, Professor Regina.

“First, you need to understand that radiance has to be accumulated. As the user becomes more stressed over time, the body reacts to this stress, thus generating radiance. After reaching a certain point, radiance can be invoked. After which, the body tires out and would require a recovery period.”

“How long is the recovery period?”

“Oh it depends… The shortest I have seen is thirty-six hours. The body recharges before it can be ready for radiance accumulation again. It depends on how large a phenomenon you are invoking, like changing the weather or hyper-driving an army of soldiers.”

Ezra closed his eyes and cleared his thoughts.

“Thank you for everything, doctor. Tomorrow, I’ll be posted to a new unit. I guess this is good-bye then…” Ezra thanked Rochelle.

Rochelle beamed at Ezra and replied, “I hope we meet next time. Hopefully after the war ends!”

They stood up and made their way back to Training Room Four. Rochelle eyes shifted to the left, sneaking peeks at Ezra. In her mind, she thought, “how great would it be if this war never happened…”

“Out of the gates!” Husker ordered.

Fifty LSVs sped through the east gates, into the open roads, followed closely by ten smaller sized tanks called Boytanks. These _Boytanks _were developed specially for the Hustlers. Compromising fire-power for speed, these tanks could travel faster and more efficiently compared to the regular tanks.

“We are going to buy time for Fernando to rendezvous with us!” Husker briefed his men using his transponder.

The plan was to intercept Phantasm kilometres away from the city. Firstly, it could buy time for Lieutenant Colonel Footes and his troopers to regroup in the city. Secondly, he could buy Urbs time back in the city, for them to set up the appropriate defenses.

Husker gritted his teeth as the first wave was in sight. The engagement commenced faster than estimated. Both armies were charging towards each other. He knew that his formation was weak in defense. That was his radiance’s fatal flaw. Take a look at the young commander and even a five year-old would know that this lanky man could not take more than five hits.

(With Urb’s still in recovery, the battle must be set by me. Let’s just hope Footes gets here in time.)

“Split form! Arty, fire!” Husker commanded into the transponder.

The diamond formation made up of the fifty LSV split into half once again. This time, they separated as far apart as possible. Even the boytanks did the same.

The forward artillery at the east gates launched shells from the mortars. Large, deadly shells showered down the battlefield.

The Hustlers evaded the arty strike and were ready to launch their counter-attack. Drawing closer from the sides, they were going to flank the enemy again. It was a good strategy for Husker. Since his troops could not take hits, he had to avoid frontal attacks as much as possible. The side flanks prevented that from happening as the troop strength would effectively be reduced by half. Husker’s speed made it easy to avoid most direct hits as well.

“Fire!”

Husker’s strength anchored entirely on his speed. So naturally, his weapons were engineered that way as well. His preferred choices of firearms were those with fast attacking speed, such as Machine guns. The mechanics in the boytank were engineered to allow faster reloading time though its firepower was slightly reduced.

However, against Phantasm’s powerful and well-prepared troops, the Hustlers were doomed for failure. Phantasm still managed to push the Hustlers back.

The_ boytanks_ were under-equipped to take down the normal tanks, let alone Phantasm’s advanced tankers. All they could do was to take out groups of foot soldiers. The main problem was those enemy tanks. Husker’s LSVs were not equipped with enough firepower to render any damage to them.

(Twenty-two minutes…)

Husker peered over his shoulders. They were pushed back to the gates. Any nearer and Phantasm would enter the city once again. He saw the gates shut tight.

“What are the City Hunters thinking!? Have they abandoned us?” Pike commented in desperation.

The Hustlers went into a frenzy. Phantasm took advantage of the chaos to advance.

(No… Urbs is not that kind of person… It must be some kind of strategy…)

“Hustlers, remain calm. Adding more confusion to the battlefield would only decrease our chances of winning,” Husker pacified his soldiers.

Thwup Thwup Thwup Thwup!

The sound of helicopter blades chopping the air hysterically drowned out the wails.

Seven helicopters flew out from the city and headed straight for the heart of the enemy’s formation. Two of them were battle copters. The machine-gunners in the copters fired mercilessly at the enemy troops. The large calibre bullets pierced through enemies into the ground. After launching their rockets at the tankers, the other five heavy-transport helicopters flew past and hovered in mid-air. Soldiers in pine green military camouflage abseiled down from the helicopter with quick haste. In a matter of seconds, the rear of the enemy’s formation was obstructed by two hundred and fifty of Footes’ elite infantry. Just like Husker’s first battle, this batch of Phantasm soldiers had no escape route. The objective was complete annihilation.

Husker, catching on quickly, commanded into his transponder, “Hustlers, regroup and flank from the sides once again. Back-up has arrived.”

The Hustlers sped down once again with reignited determination_._ Grey and green uniformed soldiers lined up on top of the city walls in prowl positions, setting up machine guns and the likes. This time round, Phantasm was going to be squashed out.

However, this time, the strength lay with the military and battle-seasoned Lieutenant Colonel, back from reconnaissance. His infantry was ferocious, tough and unyielding. The entire battlefield filled with friend and foe witnessed their relentless spirit as they stripped down the rear and advanced to the middle. His soldiers had never-ending stamina and tenacity, as if they were running on nuclear energy.

Unlike Urbs and Husker who commanded their troops via the transponder, Footes did not require any form of communication device. In fact, orders were not necessary at all. His soldiers were sure of their roles and moved with initiative. They were like a swarm of ants overpowering their opponent.

Urbs observed the fight from the top of the gates.

The worn-out commander made a comment, “A battalion of ants which cannot be trampled. Instead, they are crushing the enemy under their feet. Look at them… That’s what I call discipline.”

Fernando Footes’ soldiers formed ranks and wiped out the enemy tanks one by one. Most of the soldiers were each equipped with a Rocket-propelled Grenade launcher (RPG), apart from their fully loaded battle vest and their rifles. Other soldiers were equipped with other heavy firearms such as General Purpose Machine Guns (GPMG), armour-piercing weapons and explosives.

It was a wonder how these soldiers could carry such heavy equipment and still rush into battle without feeling tired. They were an army of foot soldiers without the need for offensive vehicles.

They were the offensive.

(If only the City Hunters were as disciplined as them… Husker, are you seeing this? This is the power of the true military.)

“Kakamada! What’s happening now?! First you send a malfunctioned Destro’ver and now this?!”

Overlord Slandarma’an flew into a rage, strangling his subordinate with the weird tattoo of a cross in a circle. The other subordinates stared at the commotion blankly. They could not help their comrade by intervening. Phantasm law stated that any who defied someone of a higher caste would be executed. Their comrade was just a mere cardinal, one level beneath the overlord.

“M… My… lord… Des… Destro… Destro’ver… This time… Won’t… I… Promise…” the subordinate struggled to say.

The malnourished overlord released his powerful grip from his subordinate’s throat.

“Then launch,” Slandarma’an commanded.

He walked back to his chair and sat down. “Hurry up, don’t keep me waiting…” he muttered assertively.

His subordinates scattered and rushed for the exit. They did not wish to experience their lord’s wrath once again.

Overlords were uncommon. By being an overlord, one was given absolute power over his tribe of a few hundred thousand men. In Phantasm, there were only a few of such fearsome people. They were extreme in their ways and more powerful than one could ever imagine.

“Destro’ver zero-two, prepare for launch. Make sure there is no failure this time round.”

“Destro’ver zero-two, launching.”

The three Bloodbaths piloting the Destro’ver were in cold sweat. If they failed this mission, their fates would be the same as those in zero-one. Bloodbath was a rank lower than a Cardinal, second lowest in their caste. Their necks were tattoo-ed with a diagonal line in a circle.

“Enemy in sight,” the first pilot said calmly.

“Copy that, release throttle,” the second replied.

“Full speed ahead, engage enemy battalion,” the third commanded.

The gigantic Destro’ver came to a halt and started firing every weapon equipped on it.

“Oh shit…” Urbs exclaimed.

Husker thought to himself, “oh no… It’s that monstrous killing machine…”

A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. He had yet to accumulate enough for higher radiance. That said, his higher radiance was not to be invoked without caution. In this fight, he was useless.

Urbs spoke into the transponder, “don’t worry. After a while, there’s a cool-down time-lapse which we can exploit. Footes, you confident in taking it down?”

Footes replied gruffly, “we’ll move mountains or die trying.”

Footes was sitting on the ground, his back leaning against an immobile tank. He spat on the ground forcefully and discarded his RPG. Instead, he drew out an enormous, bad-ass Minigun, featured in the action films, “Terminator” and “The Matrix”.

“Urbs, how long more?”

Urbs’ voice sounded in the transponder, “any time now… Get your troops ready…”

The gunfire continued on, without a hint of stopping. Empty cartridges dropped and bounced off the ground as the Destro’ver continued its burst of offensive capabilities.

“Urbs! How long more?!” Footes asked irritatedly.

“It’s supposed to be now!” came the reply.

“God damn it!” Footes cursed aloud.

He forced himself to take in a couple of deep breaths to regulate his breathing. He recovered from his sitting position and aimed his minigun at the Destro’ver. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger with all his might.

“GO TO HELL!”

Husker thought, “what a war cry… Footes _is _a bad-ass…”

He aimed his fire at the cockpit of the killing machine. His entire team followed suit. However, it was not enough. The Destro’ver started its savage destruction once again.

“We’ll be killed before we can take this junk down!!!” Footes spat once more as he took the opportunity to have another round with the Destro’ver.

The pilot in the machine ordered, “load demolition missile.”

“Affirmative. Demolition missile loaded and locked-on,” said the other pilot.

“Send them to hell. Fire!”

All cannons stopped firing in an instant. The machine seemed to be processing the command. The engines revved monstrously.

Husker tilted his head to the side. Something was really wrong.

Urbs lowered his binoculars and stared at the machine blankly. Something was amidst.

Footes gripped on to his minigun tightly. His instincts twitched.

“PREPARE FOR IMPACT!!!” The two green colonels yelled.

Footes got on his feet and volleyed every ammunition he had at the machine, hoping to change its course. His battalion responded in kind, desperately firing at one single target, at one single spot. One last RPG did the job. As the bazooka rocketed towards the Destro’ver, it exploded upon impact, finally shifting the middle barrel to the right.

The demolition missile spun out of the barrel and launched its way out.

BOOOOOOOOOOOM!

A nearby town was obliterated into oblivion as the demolition missile met its target. The missile exploded upon impact, sending out incendiary flames. However, what was most interesting was the shock waves which followed. The shock waves spreaded out to a ten kilometre radius before energising. The electric waves seemed to create a boundary which contained the explosion. The entire town turned into a wasteland right in front of the three Heaven’s Command commanders.

The weapon used this time was much more sophisticated. A technology so advanced that it could contain the payload of the explosion.

They finally knew what they were dealing with…

This was the technology which burned the Evergreen forest. A technology more deadly than nuclear…