I summoned the Fourth Scourge in Warhammer

Chapter 53: Being clever but being misled by cleverness

A flash of white light, and the players who had just been sent back to the rear command node by their own people regrouped, cursing and swearing.

"Damn it, wasn't it supposed to be that after the firing table evolved, it could hit any target you aimed at?"

"Yeah, how come we're hitting our own people again? Are those bastards in Class 4 putting on a show for us?"

"Forget it, we'll settle accounts with them later. Now that we've taken the position, let's kill those scoundrels first!" One player waved his hand, appearing quite pragmatic.

The group realized this was the right time; infighting wasn't the issue. They regrouped and charged back to the first line of defense. Fortunately, the gene stealers who had been entrenched there had been killed in the previous indiscriminate barrage, leaving the first line of defense empty. The players easily recaptured it.

Just as they were preparing to take up positions and advance, the roar of artillery fire came from overhead once again.

All the players instinctively tensed up, quickly ducking their heads into the trenches they had just captured. However, this time the shells didn't hit them on the head; instead, they landed precisely a hundred meters away in the second, cunning position, exploding into a continuous burst of fire and smoke.

"Phew, thank goodness it didn't hit us on the head this time."

"If they hit us on the head again this time, I'll start to suspect that they did it on purpose."

"Brothers who will be piloting wyverns from now on, please remember that mortars don't hit the target location immediately after firing. The shells take time to travel, so you have to take that time into account!"

Meanwhile, in the command post deep within the factory, Kyle watched through the monitor as his planned temporary position crumbled in a sea of ​​fire, and he too was filled with deep confusion.

His reason for his confusion was simple: Where did these Star Guardians get so many cannonballs?
From the players' perspective, the cannonballs are expensive. A salvo of four cannonballs from a bipedal wyvern costs 120 merit points, which would require them to kill about 200 ordinary cultists or 40 tough gene stealers just to barely break even.

But to "natives" like Kyle, the shells were not just "expensive," they were industrial marvels.

The stable production of artillery shells requires a large and complete industrial system. This includes departments for the exploration, mining, and transportation of raw materials; thousands of skilled workers capable of operating precision machine tools; and, more importantly, excellent technicians who can design ballistics and mix gunpowder. It is a massive chain where a change in one part affects the whole.

Even if the Empire possesses mechanical priests capable of creating anything by hand, or the STC standard production template with its foolproof operation, it still needs the most basic raw materials, right?
Looking across the entire planet Peditia, after several major wars and long-term blockades, which remaining imperial power still has the capacity to mine and transport raw materials on a large scale? Let alone maintain a complete military-industrial complex!
However, despite his confusion, reality remained unchanged despite Kyle's incomprehension. The player's wyvern suppressors continued their tireless roar from the rear, and wave after wave of artillery fire systematically and efficiently destroyed the seemingly impregnable position Kyle had built.

Seeing that the second line of defense was also rapidly collapsing under the same old tactics of the Corpse King's followers, namely "bombarding the ground with artillery fire and charging with infantry," Kyle finally made up his mind.

"Retreat completely," his voice was cold and decisive. "Back into the factory and prepare for street fighting." The pureblood gene stealer beside him hissed in surprise, "Sir, this...our defenses..."

"Follow orders," Kyle interrupted coldly.

Faced with such unreasonable firepower, any hastily constructed, non-permanent fortifications would be nothing more than sitting ducks. Their sect lacked the capability to retaliate with artillery fire and had to drag the enemy into their only advantageous terrain.

The players quickly realized this. After charging through the second line of defense, riddled with artillery fire, they expected even fiercer resistance, only to find the third line of defense completely empty, devoid of any enemies. A few reckless players had simply triggered enemy-planted mines.

Realizing something was amiss, Nguyen Van Bo immediately gave the order via walkie-talkie: "Fourth Squad, cease fire! Frontline players, begin reconnaissance immediately!"

Several players immediately removed their weapons and equipment and went out to scout ahead lightly. They cautiously advanced along the trenches and soon returned with the results—the subsequent positions were the same; apart from a few well-disguised traps and still-operating automated turrets, there were no gene stealers.

"What's going on? How come all the enemies have disappeared?" After completing the scouting, the player returned to the team and told the others what had happened. Assassin asked, looking completely bewildered, "Is the game bugged?"

“No,” Nguyen Van Bo shook his head. He had seen everything clearly through reports from the front and his own judgment. “The enemy is retreating on their own initiative. They have abandoned their positions.”

"Why?" Clearly, with someone thinking, the other players didn't prioritize using their brains.

“Perhaps they realized they couldn’t counter our artillery barrage,” Nguyen Van Bo speculated. “If we didn’t use artillery and instead opted for a direct infantry assault, they probably wouldn’t have given up their positions.”

"Are the NPCs in this game really that intelligent?" a new player asked in surprise, since NPCs in most games are inflexible.

"It's no exaggeration to say that these game NPCs are the most intelligent I've ever seen," Ruan Wenbo said confidently, with a hint of emotion in his voice.

“I think this is a good thing. We won’t have to fire any more cannons!” Assassin said immediately, his face full of pain. “The shells consume merit points too quickly. More than two thousand merit points were used up in such a short time. You don’t feel bad about using them, but I feel bad about it.”

“But the artillery fire also made our advance very fast, and the enemy’s manpower was greatly depleted in the process. They can’t respawn like us,” Nguyen Van Bo said undeniably. “Now the enemy has changed its tactics. They have retreated into that factory, and the artillery fire is no longer effective. We can only change our tactics and fight them in high-cost urban warfare.”

“It is foreseeable that casualties in the subsequent battles will be much greater,” Ruan Wenbo stroked his chin, a glint of light flashing in his eyes, “but this is the least important thing for us… Heh, the high intelligence of the enemy in this game may actually make it easier for us to complete the mission.”

(End of this chapter)