73: Chapter 73 Meeting

He looked up at the steep rock walls on both sides and issued the final deployment order:

"Everyone, check your weapons! Prepare to advance to the narrowest pass!"

"Brothers in charge of demolition, immediately lead the pack goats with gunpowder up the mountain! Find the right position to place the explosives! The remaining brothers will form a line below. As soon as you hear the explosion from the mountain, even if you have to bite with your teeth, you must firmly pin the charging Orks in the rock piles!"

There were no cheers from the nomads, only suffocating silence.

They silently made their final preparations.

Some repeatedly rubbed their rusty iron spears in the sand;

Some gulped down cheap liquor to embolden themselves;

Others unfastened the cold weapons strapped to their bodies, adjusting them to the most convenient position so they could draw their swords and knives quickly after running out of bullets.

Everyone knew this was the only time they had left in their lives.

However, just as this tragic atmosphere continued to build.

A nomadic scout, responsible for vigilance, came running down from a sand dune, trailing dust.

"Leader! Leader! There's something happening to the east!"

The scout pointed in the direction of the Shelter, shouting with a pale face,

"A large army is approaching! There are vehicles! So many vehicles! Kicking up a huge cloud of dust!"

Everyone was shocked by the news. They quickly mounted their mutated horses or pack beasts, spread out, and grimly raised their weapons, staring intently at the eastern horizon.

Talos frowned, his eyes filled with doubt.

"Which force is coming?"

Talos quickly calculated in his mind.

Coastal City was too far from here; no matter the reason, they would never dispatch a large ground force to this barren desert.

Although Shahe Town to the southeast had a group of desperate mercenaries, unless someone paid a hefty price, those greedy wolves would never just run out to eat sand for no reason.

"Then there's only one possibility left."

Talos tightened his grip on the large-caliber rifle in his hand,

"It's that new settlement force that annexed the Mountain Tribe and recently rose to power."

Although Ockham of the Mountain Tribe was a notorious scumbag, the mysterious force's ability to easily annex them, and the formidable aggression they displayed, still made Talos very wary.

What's more, a small tribe from their side had gone to seek refuge with those people a couple of days ago out of fear of the Orks, and there had been no news since.

"Leader! They're getting closer! Should we open fire?"

A young warrior nervously raised his homemade rifle, his finger already on the trigger.

"Hold steady! Don't fire!"

Talos raised his hand to stop him,

"Let's observe the situation first. Their formation is very loose; they don't seem to have direct hostile intent. Our only enemy right now is the Orks; let's not make enemies on all sides."

Not long after, accompanied by the noisy roar of engines, the mighty large force stopped a few hundred meters away from the nomads.

Amidst the swirling dust.

A tall figure in red power armor, riding a wild-looking dark red two-wheeled motorcycle, broke away from the main force and drove alone towards the nomad's front line.

The motorcycle stopped a dozen meters from Talos.

Lin Li took off his red full-face helmet and tucked it under his arm.

He glanced at the nomads, who were arrayed in battle, holding their scrap metal weapons, and spoke with clear confusion in his tone:

"Are you the nomads from the west? What are you doing running all the way to this desolate mountain gully?"

Seeing that the other party did not immediately resort to force, Talos rode his warhorse two steps forward, his back straight, and coldly uttered four words:

"To fight the Orks."

"Fight the Orks?"

Lin Li was stunned for a moment and couldn't help but raise his voice, "Isn't that just suicide?"

This time, Lin Li was truly surprised.

The previous group of old, weak, and sick people who ran to the Shelter begging for protection had led Lin Li to prejudge that these wasteland wanderers were all spineless cowards who would only cower when danger struck.

He had somewhat looked down on them in his heart.

But now, looking at these warriors who, knowing it was suicide, still stood here clutching their crude weapons.

Seeing the unwavering determination to die in their eyes.

Lin Li's perception of them instantly underwent a drastic change.

On the wasteland, there aren't many people with such backbone. Of course, they could also be fools who haven't seen Orks yet.

Talos heard the disbelief in Lin Li's tone.

But he didn't feel embarrassed, nor did he retort.

He just stared coldly at Lin Li with his weather-beaten eyes, like a lone wolf.

Being stared at by hundreds of pairs of eyes ready to die, Lin Li suddenly felt a bit awkward.

"Ahem..."

Lin Li covered up with a cough, putting on an impatient, disdainful expression,

"Well, you guys should go back quickly. We'll take care of the Orks here; don't get in our way and cause trouble."

A hint of surprise flashed in Talos's eyes.

He didn't expect this seemingly ill-intentioned iron warlord to actually be here to help them block the Orks.

But retreat was not in Talos's dictionary.

He shook his head, his tone stiff:

"Thank you for your kindness. But protecting our kin behind us is our own responsibility. Even if we die, we must die on the road of charge."

With that, Talos ignored Lin Li, yanked the reins, and led hundreds of his tribesmen around Lin Li's motorcycle, continuing to advance towards the mountain pass ahead.

"No..."

Lin Li watched their retreating figures, disheveled in the wind, and couldn't help but complain,

"Why are you so stubborn? Is it that satisfying to rush to your death?"

Although Lin Li didn't know what tactical plan these natives had, it was clear that attacking the Ork vanguard with their pitiful firepower was simply throwing their lives away.

But looking at their fearless backs, Lin Li shook his head.

Complaining aside, his admiration for these tough guys grew a little more.

"Forget it, forget it. I can only try to protect them in battle."

Lin Li put on his helmet, turned his vehicle around, and returned to the main player force.

He waved his hand, giving an order through the faction channel:

"All troops advance! Follow those nomads!"

Both forces had the same objective and inevitably marched side-by-side on the outer edge of the narrow riverbed, keeping a very close distance.

The two teams also began to observe each other.

But the scene from the players' side instantly bewildered the nomads, who were immersed in a tragic atmosphere.

Widowmaker was holding a rifle with a high-magnification scope, not looking at the road ahead, but instead turning around to peek at the nomadic team marching alongside them.

"Holy crap! Brothers, look!"

Widowmaker slapped his thigh, pointing at a female warrior riding a black mutated horse in the nomadic team,

"Look at that girl on the black horse! That wild, tanned skin! Especially that pair of breasts! Holy crap, the physics-based jiggle effect when the horse runs is absolutely amazing! The modeler definitely got extra chicken drumsticks for this!"

Several perverted players nearby immediately gathered, pulling out their binoculars to begin an academic critique.

"I can't take it anymore!"

Widowmaker's nose was almost bleeding,

"No, I need to log off and go to the restroom first. Brothers, cover me. I'll reconnect in three minutes!"

With that, the guy actually lay down stiffly in the bumpy truck bed and fell asleep.

The players nearby burst into laughter at this sight:

"This guy has to enter 'Sage Mode' before fighting? Is there a special technique to this?"

"Hahahahaha"

Meanwhile, the nomadic warriors on the other side, seeing these strange people pointing at their tribal female warriors and even 'dying' on the spot, all had darkened faces, and the veins on their hands, gripping their knife handles, bulged.

In their tribe, pointing a weapon at others was an absolute act of provocation.

However, before the tribesmen could react, the subsequent scenes left them even more dumbfounded.

As the distance closed, the nomads got a clear look at the details of this force.

Their established wasteland worldview began to suffer devastating blows.

First, there was the food.

Several mounted nomads discovered in horror that the last truck in the player convoy was piled high with chopped-off thick thighs and arms.

Those weren't the legs of some mutated beasts; they were the limbs of Orks!

Even more terrifying was that several players sitting in the back of the truck were enthusiastically slicing meat from those green thighs with small knives, discussing as they cut.

"This piece of meat has good texture. After the battle, we'll skewer it and roast it. A lot of spices will make it delicious."

"Forget it, Ork meat needs to be stewed in a pressure cooker to be tender. Yesterday, Old Eight used a pressure cooker to stew a pot, and holy crap, it was even tastier than donkey meat in real life."

The herdsmen didn't understand, but watching them drool as they spoke made their scalps tingle.

The Ork demons were an unconquerable nightmare in their eyes, yet in the eyes of these people, they were a truckload of mobile rations?!

They actually ate Orks?!

Are these people human?

Could they be a cannibalistic tribe from somewhere?

Furthermore, these people's emotions regarding the upcoming battle were completely off.

War means death, let alone fighting Orks.

On the nomads' side, everyone held a grim determination to die, and the atmosphere was so oppressive that even breathing felt difficult.

But looking at these people in strange equipment, they were sitting in their vehicles, laughing and chatting.

"Front-row tank warriors, make sure to hold aggro later! Don't let the Boss charge the backline!"

"Don't worry about me later. If I die, I'll just go to the resurrection point and run back for my corpse. Just pick up my Pip-Boy and gear!"

"Brothers, look at the camera! Cheese! It's a photo, so make your expressions fierce!"

It was the same strange, incomprehensible language.

But judging by their demeanor, this was not the attitude of people going to war at all!

These were clearly a bunch of lunatics going on a picnic together!

Didn't they know that thousands of bloodthirsty monsters were waiting to tear them apart ahead?

Were they not afraid of death?!

Finally, what completely shattered the nomads' psychological defenses were the bizarre creatures in the team.

Talos personally saw a monster, only 1.5 meters tall, with a rat's head and a long tail, weaving through the team on a miniature two-wheeled vehicle.

Not only was the rat monster not attacked by humans, but it was also shouting in the same human language at a half-human, half-crocodile monster beside it, covered in scales and carrying a crescent-shaped scimitar:

"Brother Crocodile! You take the front during the charge later! My health is low; I'll be responsible for stabbing from behind!"

The Crocodile-man coldly replied, "Just don't steal my kills."