Save the simulator and make Sarkaz great again!

Mushroom clouds of explosions rose one after another, and the faith that Lateran had built up over countless years crumbled like a toy.

The soldiers, hidden behind cover, were lifted into the air by the force field. Their armor was stripped away piece by piece, and their weapons disintegrated in mid-air, like specimens dissected by an invisible hand.

In an instant, screams and wails filled the entire space.

"What incredible power this is..."

"Divine punishment...this is divine punishment!!!"

A cavalryman knelt on the ground, staring blankly at everything. He had even forgotten to run away, watching helplessly as the whirlwind swept in.

He didn't know what kind of being they were fighting against.

Until the whirlwind reaches its end.

Men stepped over mountains of corpses; some of the Sakta still gripped their guns tightly, their knuckles twisted from excessive force.

Some lay face up, their pupils frozen in the horror of their final moments, as if even death itself could not answer their questions.

Smoke billowed behind him, and the firelight stretched his shadow long, casting it onto the broken road like a black blade piercing the heavens and the earth.

Dark red blood seeped from the pile of corpses, like stained snow, spreading a winding red carpet across the scorched earth, paving a pilgrimage path for his advance.

He raised his head slightly, gazing at the church that was already faintly visible in the distance.

"Perhaps in the future I will be burdened with a bad reputation and never be able to turn my life around."

"But that's nothing compared to what I'm trying to save."

Chapter Seventy-Eight: A Horrifying Demon Is About to Devour Lateran

As dawn breaks, Victoria's mornings are filled with a unique kind of liveliness.

On the streets, vendors had already set up their stalls, and the air was filled with the aroma of fresh bread and the rich scent of roasted coffee beans.

A newsboy on the street corner waved his newspaper, his clear cries echoing in the morning breeze.

"Breaking news! Breaking news! The Sarkaz army has stormed Laterano! Laterano is facing an unprecedented crisis!!"

His voice attracted passersby, many of whom stopped and quickly took out their money to buy a newspaper, eagerly flipping through it.

The cover they saw prominently featured the headline: "A terrifying demon is about to devour Lateran."

"This...how is this possible? Isn't this clickbait?"

"The Sarkaz? Those barbarians? How could they possibly have invaded Laterano?!"

"Latland is a core nation! Their technology and military strength are among the most advanced in the entire Terra continent, right?"

"But the newspapers clearly state that Lateran's defenses have been breached, and even the Holy City is engulfed in war!"

"Come on, they're practically exaggerating those Sarkaz into monsters. Look, they haven't mentioned any casualties at all. They're probably barely clinging to life by now."

"Even so, it's still an ugly sight to have the capital breached. Now I know why Laterano is called Laterano; their fighting strength is indeed a bit weak."

"Wait a minute, why does this report look so familiar?"

Inside the spacious meeting hall, Victorian nobles sat around a long table, a heavy silence filling the air.

The heavy curtains were drawn back, and the morning light streamed through the window onto the table, reflecting the complex expressions on everyone's faces.

"This...how is this possible?"

"The Sarkaz army has already breached the core of Laterano? Shouldn't they be kept outside the city?"

The Duke of Cavendish finally broke the silence, his fingers tapping on the table, his voice filled with barely concealed anxiety.

"According to the latest intelligence, Lateran's eastern and western defensive lines are in grave danger."

"The Sarkaz offensive was much faster than we had anticipated."

Duke Godottin said in a low voice, holding a newly delivered battle report in his hand, the paper still damp with the scent of ink.

"Our original plan was to wait until they were both severely weakened before taking advantage of the situation..."

"But now, the Sarkaz army has gained an absolute advantage, and Lateran's defenses could collapse at any moment."

The Duke of Caesar picked up the conversation, speaking coldly with a sharp glint in her eyes.

“If Lateran really falls, our plans will be completely ruined. Not only will we not be able to profit from it, but we may also face the threat of the Sarkaz.”

"The Sarkaz... how could they possibly possess such immense power?"

The other duke frowned, his tone full of doubt.

"Hasn't Kazdel always been seen as a symbol of backwardness? How could they possibly break through Laterano's defenses in just a few days?"

"In either case, we must reassess the situation."

"Imperial Death Knell," the Iron Duke said in a deep voice, his voice carrying an undeniable authority, a voice that had once dealt a heavy blow to Gaul in the Battle of the Four Emperors.

"If the Sarkaz really conquer Laterano, the entire landscape of Terra will be drastically changed."

All the dukes fell into a temporary silence.

As the Iron Duke said, Terran is a core nation, and if it falls, the entire order of the Terra continent will be completely overturned!

If they were to intervene in the war, their main forces would move forward, leaving their rear defenses vulnerable. They would not only have to guard against a surprise attack from Letania, but also worry about Ursus, that bear that has gone berserk.

Most importantly, they have few means to deal with the Sarkaz's latest aircraft, and rashly engaging in combat could easily put their fleet in a passive position.

"Then what should we do?"

A duke asked anxiously, his voice tinged with panic.

"If the Sarkaz army continues its advance, should we intervene prematurely?"

"We need time."

The Iron Duke spoke in a low voice, and his confident tone put the other dukes at ease.

"This group of Sarkaz caught Laterano off guard by using air power, but it was just a surprise attack."

"As a member of the core circle, Lateran still has its foundation, so it certainly won't fall so quickly. It might even have a chance to counterattack."

"Once we have completed our research on air defense methods, the Sarkaz will be no threat."

"Let Lateran keep them for us for now."

……

The morning mist, like the fingers of the dead, coils around the pointed clock tower of Lateran.

The smoke of battle had not yet dissipated, and fine Originium dust floated in the grayish-white mist, refracting eerie iridescence in the rising sunlight.

The buildings on both sides of the street are reduced to skeletons, with broken stained glass windows scattered all over the ground.

A rusty street lamp swayed in the wind, the remaining emergency light inside the lampshade flickering and casting fragmented spots of light.

After the northern front was breached, Theresis and Ducarre each led their troops to launch offensives on the east and west sides, while the most powerful Niezre troops were like a sharp sword piercing straight into the heart of Lateran.

By leveraging their high mobility, the Niezre forces could quickly break through the enemy's defenses, then circle around to the rear of the eastern and western lines of defense to cut off the enemy's retreat, thus forming a pincer attack on these Sakortas with Durare and Theresis.

Charge! Advance! Tear through the enemy's lines!!

Smoke from gunpowder smeared the ruins like ink. A Sarkaz squad commander stood with one foot on the burning wreckage of a turret, his scarlet cloak fluttering in the heat.

At this moment, they received a mission to quickly head to the western front and join forces with the Blood Demon army to encircle the enemy.

He held a giant sword taller than a man in one hand, the blood dripping from its stained blade with each vibration. He turned to question the investigator, the sound coming from his throat like rusty gears grinding together.

How many enemies are there?

"A mere ten thousand or so."

How many are on our side?

"A full eight hundred!!"

The Sarkaz investigator immediately straightened his back.

The Sarkaz commander was overjoyed upon hearing this.

"Hahahaha!! The advantage is on our side, brothers, follow me and charge!"

With a resounding response, the roar of engines once again echoed throughout the street.

The more the battle lines advanced, the weaker the fighting spirit of the Sarkaz became, and their defenses crumbled at the slightest touch. On the contrary, the morale of the Sarkaz warriors soared, and they fought with increasing ferocity.

On the other side, the Sakotas were struggling to hold up their crumbling defenses, their commander shouting into the communicator.

"Our disasters have been relentless, and countless brave soldiers have died tragically."

"We've been holding out for five hours! Where's our reinforcements?!"

"Report! The main force led by Bishop Fidel appears to have been ambushed by the enemy and has lost contact. The specific details are still under investigation..."

The communicator in the Sarkaz commander's hand emitted a piercing static, as if even the equipment was mocking their predicament, which angered him so much that he threw the communicator to the ground.

"Retreat! Everyone retreat towards the Cathedral Square!"

The soldiers hurriedly packed their equipment and stumbled back along the shattered streets. The cobblestones beneath their feet were riddled with craters from the artillery fire, and every step felt like walking on a knife's edge.

"Hurry! Hurry! Don't fall behind!"

The commander waved his arms, trying to maintain order in the ranks, but his voice was quickly drowned out by the deafening roar of engines.

In the distance, Sarkaz tanks burst out from the street corner like hungry beasts, their tracks grinding through the ruins with a sickening metallic scraping sound.

Their escape route was cut off by the enemy.

As the Sarkaz commander burst into laughter, the Sarkaz's spirits plummeted.

"How did they catch up so quickly?!"

"Damn it, how many of them are there?!"

"I don't know, but judging from this, they're just an advance force, at least a thousand strong. Once we break through, there will definitely be more ambushes ahead!"

All the Sakortas hiding behind their bunkers were talking amongst themselves, and the number of reports gradually increased as they were relayed.

“I asked the investigator, and he told me that the other side had about several thousand people.”

"The investigators told me!! Ten thousand people, they have at least ten thousand!!"

"My God!! Tens of thousands of people! The scouts say we need to break through the lines of tens of thousands of Sarkaz!!"

In the end, they came to a despairing conclusion.

"We...we're surrounded..."

They didn't know how many Sarkaz troops were intercepting them, but seeing the tanks that almost blocked the streets, their already dwindling fighting spirit was further dampened.

When defeat was inevitable, empathy became their greatest poison.

Depressed morale and despair about the future of the war permeated the hearts of every Sakorta on the front lines.

They entered the battlefield without knowing why, and then fell down without knowing why.

The halo above them began to dim, and they began to wonder: if their so-called faith was false, then what was the point of their steadfast adherence to the holy city built on lies?

New beliefs cannot be formed without the collapse of old ones.

The turret on the roof slowly rotated, its dark muzzle aimed at the retreating Sarkaz soldiers.

The Sarkaz soldiers looked at each other, and finally, one soldier trembled as he lowered his weapon. Then came the second, the third… and soon, the entire force surrendered.

Finally, this Goliath Sarkaz commander, with only 800 men, captured over 10,000 Sarkaz under mysterious circumstances.

When the Blood Demon troops who arrived later arrived to provide support saw this scene, they were instantly stunned.

After a long pause, all he could do was give Goliath a thumbs-up.

"Brother, brother of the cow!"

……

A black figure strode along the road to the church, and no defense could stop him. His boots, worn through blood, remained pristine.

As Shen Lin gazed at the rising smoke in the distance, a satisfied smile curved his lips. In his mind, large swathes of Laterano's territory had already been painted with Kazdel's dark red.

Because the army he had just defeated was the main force that was heading directly to support the northern front, Niezile's support troops were no longer hindered from penetrating the east and west fronts at any time.

By utilizing the mobility of tanks, the enemy's retreat route can be cut off if they are unable to escape, achieving the greatest results with the least sacrifice.

If this trend continues, Lateran will be completely conquered by them in just a few days.