Starting from the Planetary Governor

"What a pity."

Gu Hang, who was holding the binoculars, uttered these two words.

He lamented that the enemy reacted quickly, having moved before the bombardment began, otherwise the artillery could have been even more devastating;

he also regretted that their firepower was still insufficient. If the 60mm mortars had been replaced with larger-caliber howitzers, the infantry could have just cleaned up the battlefield afterward, as the main problems could have been resolved by the artillery directly.

But under these circumstances, there was nothing to be done.

In any case, after two rounds of shelling, the enemy had lost a third of its fighting strength. Though it seemed there was a chance for two or three more rounds, the results were unlikely to be as good.

The remaining enemies would still have to be dealt with by the infantry.

Patel, on the other hand, was very pleased with what he saw.

From the information provided by the captives, he knew that most of his people, aside from those who had died, had already been transferred and imprisoned in the lair of the captors, so there were no concerns about friendly fire when shelling the temporary camp.

Thus, watching these bandits who endangered his hometown get bombed, with every round crumbling their ranks and causing incalculable death and injury, brought him genuine joy.

O great Governor, may all these bandits be killed! I, Patel, am willing to serve you for a lifetime!

As he thought this, he saw the Governor roll up his binoculars and signal the soldiers standing by to move forward.

He hurriedly followed.

...

Locate the target accurately, fire, and kill.

Feeling the slight warmth on his cheek from the HS3 type 'Eagle' Electromagnetic Rifle in his hands, Yan Fangxu felt much relieved.

The situation on the battlefield is always changing. He had thought that taking advantage of the enemy's unpreparedness with multiple rounds of mortar fire would deal a devastating blow to these native bandits. Most of the remaining ones would have been dazed by the explosions, allowing his infantry to just clean up the battlefield and deal with a few surviving enemies.

But the enemy was more alert than expected.

Even as mere wasteland plunderers, they should not be underestimated.

The enemy dispersed several squads in advance, forcing him to launch an attack immediately, lest they be discovered by the enemy. The artillery strike was initiated a few minutes ahead of schedule, and the infantry he led had to eliminate those enemy squads hundreds of meters from the enemy's camp first.

Eliminating these bandit squads wasn't difficult.

But the upcoming battle, he found a bit troublesome.

The damage caused by the mortars was less than expected; it was up to him and his infantry to tackle the tough fight.

Winning was not in question, but what about the losses?

If they were to suffer substantial losses while having the upper hand against a bunch of wasteland bandits, that would be quite embarrassing. Additionally, excessive losses could affect the plans of His Excellency the Governor.

He had full confidence in the thirty marines he personally brought down from the starship, but not so much in the Mech Servant soldiers. They were cannon fodder by design, equipped with garbage, and more importantly, the battle instincts implanted in the brains of the Mech Servant soldiers were also oriented toward being cannon fodder, emphasizing recklessness without fear of death.

Being cannon fodder might be an advantage, but not when acting as the regular army.

He was genuinely worried that these Mech Servants would be too impulsive and suffer too many casualties.

However, once the battle began, he immediately felt a great deal more at ease.

During the elimination of the peripheral plunderer squads, these Mech Servant soldiers didn't show too many special attributes, as the main targets were dealt with by the marines. Special operations were what the marine corps excelled in, especially since they were equipped with targeting aids, rapid enemy location, precision shooting modules... a variety of accessories.

They had an overwhelming advantage over the plunderers both in terms of training and equipment level, so it was very normal for them to achieve victory without injuries.

The Mech Servant soldiers, who missed their opportunity to shine, showed remarkably good training in the process of attacking the camp.

Instead of charging forward like cannon fodder, each squad maintained open formation, advancing in groups of three. There were assault troops, fire support, and squad machine guns provided suppression from the rear as they advanced.

Though the mortars a kilometer away could no longer inflict significant damage, they could still continuously lob shells to accompany the soldiers' advance and suppress enemy fire.

The tactical moves of these Mech Servant soldiers, in the eyes of someone as elite as him, seemed somewhat rigid, but they were standard and effective enough.

Those raiders who wanted to break out were pinned down inside the camp, unable to come out.

They could only occasionally fire some bullets from within, but without any accuracy. They didn't dare to show their heads, let alone take aimed shots.

Soon, several assault teams had already entered the camp. The Mech Servant soldiers' professionalism was still online, advancing in turn, covering each other, cutting in from multiple angles, minding the blind spots in their vision... all the necessary technical maneuvers were being employed.

Those bandits, who had thought that at close range they could finally mount a substantial counterattack, were still met with the ruthless slaughter by the Mech Servant soldiers.

Of course, the Mech Servant soldiers were certainly not invincible. Close-quarters combat inevitably led to casualties, but the numbers were much better than what Yan Fangxu had previously estimated.

Was the training organized by the governor really effective?

It wasn't just for show; there was a real enhancement in combat effectiveness when it came to fighting.

Three hundred cannon fodder turned into three hundred regular soldiers, and the transformation took place in such a short time that he found it truly unbelievable.

But this was a good thing.

With the Mech Servant Battalion at this level, he finally didn't have to worry about suffering too many losses in the storming battle.

Those robbers simply couldn't withstand the onslaught of the Mech Servant soldiers.

This battle was secure.

...

Yan Fangxu found it unbelievable, but for Kaja, it was utter despair.

His reaction was not slow, but still, he couldn't reverse fate.

His brothers, trapped in the camp, had already dwindled to less than half their number.

The howling mortars had stopped bombarding. He had thought this would give them a breather, even a chance to counterattack, but it didn't happen. Those attacking soldiers with mechanical eyes were the most despairing thing for him.

He had heard of 'Mech Servants', and some big powers also had them, but they were just like slave labor.

They wouldn't think independently, could only follow orders to do some low-end repetitive manual labor, not suited to being trained as soldiers. If one insisted on doing so, they could only get a bunch of cannon fodder. If there were any advantages, it was that they would not leak secrets, absolute loyalty, absolute obedience.

And these now, were Mech Servant soldiers?

Was there such an outrageous type of Mech Servant?

In their cold eyes, not a hint of stupidity could be seen, only ruthlessness. They were well-trained, their movements brisk and orderly as they slaughtered his subordinates.

A counterattack?

Quite a few of his fierce bandits indeed tried to fight back, but scattered counterattacks were useless. If any Mech Servant soldier was wounded, it didn't affect their emotions in the slightest. Even hiding in the temporary houses made of building debris and rubble was futile.

Those Mech Servant soldiers would throw two to three grenades in succession, then enter without hesitation, guns in hand, fearless of casualties, and often without incurring any, they could kill the bandits who stubbornly resisted.

Now, he knew, everything was over.

His temporary camp was bombed to ruins, everywhere there were debris and craters; his brothers lay dead or wounded across the field, killed by the bombs, scraped to death by shrapnel, their bodies shredded by the well-equipped soldiers with 'Eagle' Electromagnetic Rifles at long range, executed at close quarters by Mech Servant soldiers...

The 'Prisoners', had perished.

But Kaja still had one last card to play.

His tribe was beyond saving, but perhaps he still had a chance to save himself.

Pulling out a green, dirty glass bottle the size of his palm from his chest, he looked hesitant. He had seen what became of those who drank this stuff, and it wasn't much better than death.

But if he didn't drink it, he would die right now.

Eventually, he gritted his teeth, pulled out the cork, and gulped down the potion.