The surviving mercenaries relied on their instincts formed through long-term training and their desire to survive, helping each other while dragging the wounded, abandoning those outer fortifications that could no longer be defended, retreating en masse like the tide into the relatively sturdy concrete main building.
They used everything they could find to reinforce the doors and windows, then tightly curled up behind load-bearing columns, in corners, or other places they believed to be safest, silently praying that the "allies" with whom they had never truly collaborated would fire their artillery with precision and ferocity.
Time slowly ticked by, each second accompanied by the heavy thump of their hearts.
The sound of gunfire and explosions outside grew clearer and closer because of the defenders' tactical retreat, and the 1515 militants clearly sensed something unusual, their attacks becoming more reckless and frenzied, with some even attempting to directly storm the main building's door.
Sanders stared fixedly at the second hand on his wristwatch, feeling his nerves stretched to the breaking point, almost snapping.
He began to doubt whether this so-called artillery support was yet another cruel joke by Song Heping.
Just at the critical moment when the defensive line was about to be breached—
Whoosh—
Wuu—!
A sharp, unique whistle pierced the night sky filled with gunfire and explosions!
All the veterans who had experienced shelling, including Sanders, instinctively did the same action at this moment—
They curled their bodies tightly, covered their ears with their hands, and opened their mouths wide to balance the sudden change in pressure on their eardrums.
Boom!!!
A dull thunderous sound exploded approximately three hundred meters outside the checkpoint!
The ground trembled clearly, a fireball mixed with dirt and smoke soared into the sky, fragmented limbs and weapon parts were thrown high into the air, then fell like raindrops!
It's a D-30!
122mm Howitzer!
The unique trajectory and explosion sound are highly recognizable to those familiar with various firearms!
Whoosh—
Wuu—!
Whoosh—
Wuu—!
Whoosh—
Wuu—!
The first shell heralded like a test shot, followed immediately by more, an increasingly dense torrent of sharp whistling sounds from the direction of Hulmatu!
The sounds fused together, as if Hell's death knell had been madly rung!
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
Boom!
...
In the next second, the entire area around checkpoint four seemed plunged into an erupting volcanic crater!
Countless orange-red explosive fireballs blossomed frantically on the assault positions outside the checkpoint!
The sound of explosions instantly became unbelievably dense, no longer discernible as single shots, merging into a continuous roar that crazily assaulted everyone's eardrums and nerves!
The soaring flames repeatedly illuminated the night, casting the sky to resemble daylight!
Pillars of black smoke mixed with dirt and gunpowder exploded upward, rapidly forming a massive smoke wall that covered half the sky of the battlefield, even dimming the moon's glow.
Each explosion of the 122mm howitzer could instantly clear a twenty to thirty-meter radius of any sign of life!
The powerful, visible shock waves sent unprepared 1515 militants flying, tearing them apart, even vaporizing them directly!
The streams of metal formed by pre-fabricated fragments and shrapnel flew with ear-piercing screeches like the Grim Reaper's scythe, radiating outward, mercilessly harvesting all fragile lives within the range!
The extremists, who were yelling and charging a moment ago, were plunged into extreme chaos and instinctive panic!
They frantically sought anything that might serve as cover—
Crater, mounds of earth, even the bodies of their companions...
But under such dense, near-overwhelming artillery strikes, any action exposing oneself above ground was tantamount to suicide!
Bodies were directly torn apart, makeshift improvised shelters were easily overturned and destroyed like children's building blocks...
Inside the sturdy main building of the checkpoint, Sanders and his subordinates stuck closely to the cold walls or huddled behind solid load-bearing columns, feeling the floor beneath vibrate violently, listening to the incessant booming outside.
Dust, debris, and small chunks of cement fell from above, causing them to cough continuously, the air filled with a pungent smell of dust and gunpowder.
However, unlike the previous despair, every face now showed signs, albeit slight, of relief from surviving a calamity.
"Well done! Blast! Blast! Blast those sons of bitches to hell!"
Reks excitedly pounded the ground with his fist, despite being rattled by the violent tremors, making his blood surge and his organs seem displaced, but an almost maniacal excitement filled his face.
"Damn... Song Heping actually has some real heavy stuff..."
Hansen whispered, pressing hard on a wounded man's fresh bleeding injury caused by the artillery vibrations, while listening to the destructive symphony outside.
Sanders made no sound, he cautiously moved near the observation hole, peered out with half his face, and looked outside carefully.
The dense enemy figures were now mostly dispersed in the explosive flames and dust, leaving only scattered remnants struggling and fleeing like headless flies through the fiery chaos and craters, soon to be engulfed by the next wave of falling shells.
"God bless..."
He breathed a sigh of relief.
Looks like Song Heping was serious.
He genuinely intervened to lend a hand.
He had actually doubted the sincerity of the other party just now...
Just as he was about to feel shame over his doubts, a sudden situation poured a bucket of ice-cold water mixed with ice chips over his head!
Whoosh—
Wuu—!
A particularly piercing, seemingly more penetrating whistling sound came nearer and nearer, the trajectory of the sound...
Seems too straight?
Too close?
Sanders' heart suddenly contracted!
An ominous feeling instantly enveloped him!