Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 1322: Total collapse
7:20, Command node of the 1515 Armed Central Route Force.

Major Kadri roared into the radio, but all he heard on the communication channel was static noise.

He tried switching to the backup frequency, but there was still no response.

He knew what had happened—the communications equipment had been destroyed, or worse, the communications officer had escaped with the equipment.

"Sir, enemy convoy spotted on the east side!" the sentry shouted.

Kadri rushed to the top of the dune and raised his binoculars.

He witnessed a nightmarish scene: a dozen armed pickup trucks and Humvees were speeding towards him in skirmish formation, their heavy machine guns spitting fire and drawing deadly streaks in the morning light.

What's even more frightening is their method of maneuvering.

Instead of traveling in a straight line, it weaves through the sand dunes in a serpentine pattern, appearing and disappearing intermittently.

Each time it appears, it unleashes a barrage of firepower, then quickly disappears, only to reappear from another direction.

"Organize the defenses!" Kadri roared. "Bring the anti-tank teams over!"

But the command could not be conveyed.

The troops are in disarray.

Some tried to dig bunkers, some jumped onto trucks to escape, and others simply abandoned their weapons and fled into the depths of the desert.

The officers drew their pistols in an attempt to maintain order, but panic spread like a plague, and discipline crumbled before the instinct for survival.

A mortar shell landed near the command post, and shrapnel knocked down the communications soldier next to Kadri.

The young soldier clutched his abdomen and screamed in agony, his intestines spilling out from between his fingers.

Kadri lay on the ground and saw another convoy appear from the west.

This time they launched anti-tank missiles, turning two BTR armored vehicles that were trying to mount a counterattack into fireballs.

"Retreat! Everyone retreat to the northwest!" He finally made the decision.

But the retreat quickly turned into a rout.

7:45, outside of Tuz town.

Nassin, commander of the Persian Holy City Brigade, stood in front of the command vehicle, observing the battlefield through binoculars.

His three thousand elite troops did not actually launch a full-scale attack on Tuz Town.

According to Song Heping's prediction, a direct assault would cause unnecessary casualties, but if the feint attack was realistic enough, they might be able to take Tuz Town without losing a single soldier.

Nassin was skeptical of this.

Without losing a single soldier?
Take Tuz Town?
There are at least two thousand 1515 extremists around these days.

Would they raise a white flag, surrender, and hand over the town?

It's practically a fairy tale from One Thousand and One Nights!
But he still carried out the order.

T-72 tanks fired live ammunition, and BM-21 rocket launchers fired three salvos. Infantry, under the cover of armored vehicles, advanced to within 500 meters of the town.

The defenders offered little resistance, with only sporadic gunfire and returns of fire.

This left Nassin completely bewildered.

no one?

"Sir, Ahmed's central forces have begun to retreat," the adjutant suddenly reported. "Mr. Song's troops are in pursuit."

Nassin's face showed surprise: "How...how did he do that? Mr. Song is truly a god of war..."

Within the Holy City Brigade, Nassin's high regard for Song Heping is an open secret.

"Should we continue? Taking Tuz town now would be easy."

“No.” Nassin shook his head. “According to his plan, we’ll apply pressure first and observe the situation. If Mr. Song’s guess is correct…”

He thought of the judgment that "without losing a single soldier".

Although I dare not doubt it, I still dare not believe it.

If he told his subordinates this, they would think he was crazy too.

"Continue the artillery fire, continue to apply pressure, do not rush to attack, send out drones to scout and see what the situation is in the town."

He paused and added.

8:00, towards Fayhat.

Samir, holding a satellite phone, said, "Boss, my troops have reached their designated positions! The artillery battalion's twelve D-30 howitzers are in position, and six 120mm mortars are ready! The defenders at 1515 are retreating in panic; they believe we're about to launch a general offensive!"

“Very good.” Song Heping’s voice came through. “Have the artillery fire three salvos, but the targets should be no man’s land. Just make a show of force. Remember, don’t rush to attack the city. Just make a big commotion so that those extremists think you’re about to launch a major offensive.”

"understand!"

Samir hung up the phone and turned to the artillery commander beside him. "Did you hear that? Target F-7 area, three rapid fire rounds! Make sure the whole of Fayhart can hear our artillery fire!"

Six thousand “Liberation Forces” militiamen deployed on the outskirts of Fayhat.

Their artillery battalion is the pride of the unit.

The twelve 122mm D-30 howitzers, though old, are well-maintained and have a range of 15 kilometers.

In addition, there is a mortar battery equipped with six 120mm heavy mortars.

The first salvo of shells ripped through the sky and landed on the front lines on the outskirts of Fayhat.

The explosions sent plumes of smoke soaring into the sky, clearly visible even from a kilometer away. Smoke grenades and signal flares were also seen rising and falling across the front lines, accompanied by a dense barrage of gunfire.

From inside the city of Fehart, it looked exactly like a regular army with heavy firepower preparing to launch a general offensive.

The commander of the garrison at Fahart frantically pleaded for help over the radio, his voice distorted with fear: "At least one enemy division! They have heavy artillery! They have 122mm howitzers! They are preparing for artillery fire! We can't hold on! Repeat, we can't hold on! Requesting an immediate retreat!"

This message was forwarded to Ahmed's command vehicle, becoming the final straw that broke the camel's back.

8:15, Ahmed's command vehicle.

"Commander, a call from Raka headquarters."

The communications officer's voice was barely audible, "The wording... is harsh. You are required to explain why you suffered such a crushing defeat despite having an overwhelming advantage, and you are required to immediately contact Celia headquarters to explain the situation."

Explanation?

Ha ha……

Ahmed knew what the word meant.

Bakdadi knew his own temper very well.

It seems he's truly enraged this time...

He glanced at the others in the command vehicle—Khalid avoided his gaze, looking down at his documents; Shafiq stared at the ground as if something there was something attractive; the young Abdul looked directly at him, but his eyes held no trace of the usual awe, only an assessment, a calculation.

Failure can corrupt everything, including loyalty.

These people are probably not thinking about how to help him out of his predicament, but rather how to sever ties with him and how to pledge allegiance to their new masters.

Even more frightening, he remembered the video from three months ago.

A colleague I knew, who had once been a decorated warrior but suffered a crushing defeat in a battle, knelt on the ground like a dog and was slashed more than twenty times with a blunt knife before finally dying.

This is the fate of those who are losers within 1515.

He didn't want to die like that.

"Prepare the vehicles, we're heading back to Teterrick."

Ahmed struggled to his feet, trying to maintain his last shred of dignity, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him.

"What about the troops?" Shafik asked.

Ahmed remained silent for a long time.

The sounds of fleeing soldiers could be heard outside the window, along with the increasingly close sound of gunfire.

No matter how many troops are scattered, they are just ants.

Eight thousand people...

A full eight thousand people...

Even though over a thousand men were lost in the Battle of Hurmatu, there were still a total of seven thousand.

They were defeated in less than two hours by Song Heping's less than 1,000 troops in a lightning attack.

Ahmed began to question the meaning of life.

They even began to doubt their own intelligence.

Now, others have organized a counterattack.

Repeated failures had made him feel uneasy even at the mere mention of Song Heping's name.

beat?
I don't have the courage.

Even his own soldiers lost their courage.

Forget it, let's call it a day!

Let's leave!
Song Heping's troops still roam around like ghosts, ready to reap the lives of their own men at any moment.

Who knows when they might suddenly find themselves here and behead them? That would be a really bad situation.

“Tell them to keep up,” he finally said, each word like swallowing shards of glass. “Those who don’t keep up, let them break out on their own.”

The order was relayed, but it was no longer of any use.

The central force had long since collapsed and was now just a motley crew fleeing in all directions in the desert.

Officers seized vehicles, soldiers abandoned their equipment, and some even shot at their comrades to save their lives.

Driven by the instinct for survival, the army of several thousand men collapsed within just two hours.

Ahmed boarded the last intact off-road vehicle, escorted by his trusted men.

He glanced back at the battlefield.

Burning vehicles, abandoned weapons, dead bodies, and armed pickup trucks darting like ghosts across the distant sand dunes.

Those were Song Heping's troops.

Eight hundred men defeated eight thousand.

“The devil…” he muttered again, then yelled at the driver, “Drive! Get out of here!”

　Second update. I need to go to the school to deliver clothes to my son, I'll update later.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)