Counterfeit Hero

The battlefield is always the place closest to hell.

When these giant warriors, like gods of death from hell, carrying silent yet wild brutality and the breath of death, slaughtered each other furiously amidst the sky-full of cannon fire, this was hell.

Every single mecha rushing into the enemy's formation was desperately launching attacks. They wielded the weapons in their hands, energy cannons flashing waves of red light, killing or being killed on the twilight mountain ground.

In this fierce duel, there would always be a loser.

... One mecha after another collapsed in the flames.

Some mechas were blown into pieces in an instant by the self-detonation of other mechas, while others became burning wreckage on the battlefield!

The heart-wrenching screams of the mechanical warriors among the wreckage were horrifying. Blood flowed drop by drop through the seams of the deformed cockpits, sizzling as it burned in the fierce fire.

"Boom!" A Vajra completely disintegrated in a violent explosion, the shockwave shooting numerous mecha fragments in all sizes in all directions. The white light instantaneously dispersed the gradually dimming twilight, sweeping across the distant, hazy horizon. Rolling black smoke, carrying dust, rose and spread in the sky like a giant mushroom. Soon after, crimson flames like fresh blood followed the smoke, eventually soaring high and turning the battlefield red.

In the flashing firelight, agile figures darted back and forth at high speed. In front of them, one mecha after another followed the fate of the Vajra.

These were a group of silent and mad killers. They swarmed together in groups of three or five, like a pack of sly and cruel wolves, shuttling and wandering, suddenly pouncing on their prey, killing it in the quickest way possible, then scattering to find the next target.

Their speed was as fast as lightning, their attacks as deadly as venomous snakes.

They were cunning and ferocious. When the prey went mad and fixed its eyes on them, they would run away pitifully with their tails between their legs. When the prey attacked their companions, they would harass it from the sides, biting it one after another. When the prey was finally exhausted, they would turn into the bravest and most ruthless wolves, tearing it apart.

This was the Sharp Blade Camp's sharpest blade, with a full two hundred Hunters arranged at the forefront of the assault formation.

These villains, with absolute superiority in both mechas and tactics, had already torn open a gap filled with blood and fire in the formation of the remaining Myth soldiers.

And this gap was expanding under the ferocious bombardment of heavy mechas on both flanks like rampaging Fire Dragons.

A Vajra finally caught up to the Hunter ahead. Its cannon fire forced the Hunter into a desperate corner.

The Hunter turned around, screaming wildly as it lunged at the Vajra. The gap in its chest was exposed wide open. Smoke billowed from its body, and its left mechanical arm could no longer be lifted.

The Vajra advanced, swinging its blade, the blade of the ion light saber aiming straight for the Hunter's front chest!

The Hunter's movements had completely deformed. Its body was stiff and slower than even an electronic mecha! Its frantic screams were filled with sorrowful intimidation and a desperate struggle!

The distance was getting closer and closer!

At the moment when the Vajra's blade was about to strike out in a surge, the Hunter's movements changed, like a slow-moving snake suddenly darting out like lightning when someone approached.

The Hunter disappeared in front of the ion light saber. Watching the rapidly escalating speed data of the opponent on the mechanical computer, the Vajra's heart turned ice-cold!

He knew that the Hunter had already slipped into the gap under his blade! And the ion dagger in his hand was like a glimmering venomous fang...

The Vajra had no retreat. With a wry smile, he slashed the ion light saber down in a fierce move meant to ensure mutual destruction.

The blade missed! The Hunter had already dodged and leaped out of the attack range at a low height.

The Vajra stood dazed in place, an ion dagger pierced into the foot of its mecha, and behind it, another Hunter clung to its back like a shadow.

As expected, the mecha lost all power.

The Vajra's warrior watched dumbfoundedly as the previous Hunter retrieved its dagger and then, assuming its previously crippled form, struggled stiffly towards another Vajra just preparing to join the front battle group.

Behind him, the ambushing Hunter silently drifted away, disappearing into the darkness as if it had nothing to do with the crippled mecha.

"Boom!" The explosion from not far on the other side made the Mythical Soldier turn his head.

In his sorrowful eyes, a Vajra collapsed with a crash. That was his platoon leader, a distinguished Sixth-level Mecha Warrior!

In the blazing fire, four silhouettes flickered ghost-like as they drifted away into the night as if that Vajra were just an unrelated patient, and they were merely a few bystanders afraid of getting into trouble!

Such a scene was playing out repeatedly everywhere!

In just over ten minutes, the remnants of the Mythm army, caught in the whirlwind of the Sharp Blade Camp, could no longer hold on.

Although each Mythical Soldier had summoned all their remaining courage, when the enemy before them was more ferocious and stronger than the previous one, that courage gradually dissolved amidst the tragic cries of their companions.