10:00 AM on the 5th.
Looking up, the sea of clouds rolls and obscures the sunlight; looking down, the earth trembles and devastation is everywhere.
Outside Yulou Pass, there are thirteen forests.
The first echelon, led by Chang Le, Iris, and Wan Buxun, was responsible for guarding and fighting against the alien species in the eastern part of the central section, which was also the place where the alien attacks were the most rapid and where there were the most ninth-tier alien species.
Twenty minutes earlier, when they arrived with the Dragon Soul Army and the War Wolf Mech Force, the alien species had already crossed the border and entered the Thirteen Forests.
After twenty minutes of all-out fighting, relying on overwhelming firepower, Chang Le, Iris, and Wan Buxun suppressed the eight ninth-tier mutants. Regardless of the cost and sacrifice, they forced the mutants to retreat from the Thirteen Forests. The two sides temporarily separated and confronted each other, with the Xiang River as the boundary.
Lu Jin'an personally led the main force of the Wolf Army and the border garrison in the western section of the Xianghe River, and quickly forced the alien species back to the north side of the Xianghe River.
The first battle, which seemed to be a swift and successful retreat, was actually won without casualties.
The border area, stretching for tens of kilometers, especially towards both sides of the valley, has been completely covered by the traces of war.
The ground was littered with severed limbs and corpses, with blood flowing everywhere.
Iris went to check on the casualties.
At the wounded soldiers' resettlement site, medical staff were busy working non-stop. The makeshift resettlement area was covered with wounded soldiers covered in blood, with broken bones and tendons, as well as those whose bodies had been burned beyond recognition by fire-attribute supernatural abilities. Their painful groans and cries were heartbreaking.
Yet, none of those who saw the iris asked a question, nor did anyone express any intention to back down.
For those born at the forefront of the fight against the alien species, combating them has become an instinct, driving them to forget about life and death.
District Nine is a chaotic and dangerous place, but it is their homeland on which they depend for survival.
Despite having fought countless battles, Iris's eyes still stung with tears. When she encountered familiar subordinates, she could only offer words of comfort.
Her subordinate, writhing in pain and struggling to breathe, grabbed her sleeve and asked, "Sister Yuan, can we... win?"
Iris, fighting back tears, gripped his hand tightly: "Of course!"
Iris returned to the command post, where Wan Buxun, Chang Le, and the other commanders of the Dragon Soul Army analyzed the strengths of both sides in the battle and made plans for the next move.
After the commanders left, Iris said to the two of them, "The casualties are bad. This time, the aliens came too fiercely and in too large numbers. They are all charging forward recklessly. Unless the entire Ninth District abandons its rear guard forces with all its might, we can only hold out for one day at most."
Chang Le was very quiet today. After a two-second silence, he said, "That's enough."
Around 11 o'clock.
The Second Battle of Resistance.
11:30, the third time.
The fourth time...
The fifth time...
At 6 p.m., after eight hours of almost non-stop combat, the Dragon Soul Army and the War Wolf Mech Force repelled thirteen attacks by the main alien force and intercepted dozens of small-scale incursions.
The weather was bad; it got dark very early, and the temperature was much lower than during the day.
The usual chirping of insects and birds was gone, replaced by endless silence and desolation. The only sounds were the wails of wounded soldiers or the roars of alien creatures crossing the river from afar.
The darkness, like countless silken threads, seeps into the very bones, tightly binding the body and soul.
It was terrifying and suffocating.
Iris was in charge of the command post, while Chang Le and Wan Buxun were behind a makeshift defensive wall in front of them, surrounded by soldiers who were on guard and preparing for battle.
As night deepened, the oppressive atmosphere became unbearable.
Shuai Xian and Wang Yao were right behind Chang Le. Suddenly, Shuai Xian kicked Wang Yao: "Hey."
Just then, Wang Yao's sword was kicked, and the clanging sound startled everyone who was on high alert. They all pricked up their ears to listen.
"What are you doing?" Wang Yao punched him away.
"Aren't you usually quite talkative? Tell everyone a joke to lighten things up, but no one's saying a word, I'm about to burst!"
Wang Yao rolled her eyes, not in the mood to argue with him: "Get lost!"
Shuai Xian glanced at Chang Le, who was sitting cross-legged in silence, and gave Wang Yao a naughty shove: "Where's that amazing kung fu sister you didn't finish telling me about? I want to hear more~"
A muffled laugh rang out from around them, and Chang Le looked up at the two of them.
Wang Yao's face flushed red and then turned pale. She smacked him with her elbow in annoyance: "What nonsense are you talking about? What sister? She's some kind of mutant old hag!"
Shuai Xian clicked his tongue: "It's even more exciting for the brothers."
Chang Le let out a muffled chuckle, and the laughter around him became even more undisguised.
The atmosphere eased slightly.
“After this battle,” Wang Yao suddenly said, “I’ll give it to you when we get back…”
"Stop!" Shuai Xian lunged forward, covering his mouth. "Bro, don't get me into this! Who are you trying to scare to death by setting a flag at this time?"
The people around him nervously waved to Wang Yao.
Wan Buxun couldn't help but laugh: "You've even started to believe in superstitions. On the battlefield, it's all about skill. Don't let your usual training go to waste. You all better stay alive!"
Everyone echoed in agreement.
But everyone knows that even someone with Wan Buxun's cultivation level could perish in such a large-scale event. Most of them are skilled among ordinary superhumans, and whether they can survive against these alien species really depends on luck and fate.
After a moment of silence, someone couldn't help but sigh, "How long will this war last?"
Silence fell; no one knew the answer.
Chang Le suddenly spoke up: "It will be soon."
"Young Master, Young Master," a girl of about eighteen or nineteen years old crawled up from behind Shuai Xian, her face covered in graffiti, her eyes sparkling as she asked.
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