A Post-Apocalyptic Journey to Another World

The torrential rain continued all day without any sign of stopping. In fact, it intensified overnight, turning into freezing rain with hailstones the size of soybeans mixed in with the downpour—something that would never happen in previous years.

The people of Pingyuan City were all taking shelter from the cold, torrential rain. An old man, hiding in a shack, watched as the rainwater in front of his door gathered into a small stream. The turbid stream rushed rapidly in the drainage ditch, and even formed a small whirlpool at the corner of the ditch.

The old man thought sadly, wondering how many more homeless people this rain would claim. He turned and looked at the little girl sleeping soundly under the covers. The girl's mother, miraculously surviving for months under the care of the girl and the old man, had finally succumbed to severe dehydration and malnutrition, passing away yesterday. The girl had cried all night, and to make matters worse, their shack had collapsed yesterday. The old man simply moved the girl to his own shack, and then, while the girl was asleep from exhaustion, he called the neighborhood watch to collect the girl's mother's body. These days, a large number of people die in Pingyuan City every day; to prevent an outbreak of disease, all bodies are collected and cremated in a centralized manner.

The old man touched an empty medicine bottle in his hand and thought of the young soldier who had helped them half a year ago. He should still be alive, right? In this world, the old man dared not say anything about good deeds being rewarded, but that kid looked like a tough guy.

……

Suddenly, someone with a tough constitution sneezed in the downpour! Zhang Xi turned around and looked at the silently advancing team behind him through the rain. This kind of weather was unintentionally advantageous to Zhang Xi and his men. Everyone in the team was wearing camouflage suits, which were not only rain and chemical-resistant but also highly effective at concealing themselves. They were designed using the visual deception principle of zebra stripes; under the cover of the rain and trees, from a distance they looked like trees swaying in the strong wind. Everyone was carrying several times their normal weight, which would have been impossible before, but with the individual exoskeleton system, it was a different story.

Huo Mingde is a seasoned commander. Once he makes up his mind, he will not hesitate and will go all out to execute the plan. The hundreds of people behind Zhang Xi are almost half of the entire division's backbone. They are all the elite of the elite. Half of them are front-line commanders above the platoon level, and the other half are veterans who have been through many battles. Not to mention that all of them are people who have broken through the limits of human beings.

Zhang Xi couldn't help but admire the veteran's decisiveness and courage. Such a drastic transfer of frontline officers and soldiers would undoubtedly weaken the unit's combat effectiveness. Any professionally trained commander would resolutely oppose this action, and indeed, the regimental commanders were strongly opposed to it. However, Huo Mingde acted decisively and firmly rejected the regimental commanders' objections.

Soldiers obey orders and will resolutely carry them out once they make up their minds, but many people still have some concerns: is the division commander's decision the best option? Only Zhang Xi knows that the decision is correct; history has ruthlessly destroyed the division staff's other plan.

In the previous life, after exhausting all its heavy firepower, the 1st Division retreated into the city to engage in street fighting, hoping to buy time. Facing superior enemy forces, street fighting was the right choice, but the orcs seemed to have anticipated this. They dispatched an elite squad of orcs and wyverns to infiltrate the 1st Division's rear, cutting off its supplies. Simultaneously, utilizing the speed advantage of their black wolves, they surrounded the 1st Division in a small area, ultimately allowing the arriving orcs to deliver the final blow.

The lesson learned by the First Division was that when facing powerful orcs with an average strength between the peak of the Bronze rank and the early Silver rank, one should never engage in urban warfare with them; in fact, one should never engage in urban warfare with orcs who have a numerical advantage! City streets and alleys offer little resistance to these orcs and instead hinder the concentration of firepower by the troops. For small bunker complexes, the orcs can use black wolves to fill them; for large fortress complexes, it's even simpler—besiege them without attacking. The soldiers were also helpless; without heavy firepower, even without retreating into the city, they couldn't hold out in open field battles.

……

On a platform at the foot of Mount Maling, the orc chieftain, Grom Stormrage, frowned as he watched the noisy orc army below. The orcs' discipline was appalling. Even after issuing strict orders and executing several disobedient orcs, there was no improvement. This was perhaps their inherent weakness, something they would never change, even in death. Grom couldn't help but envy the undead commanders; those skeletons never had to worry about discipline. However, the thought of the overwhelming number of skeletons gave the orc chieftain a headache. Any army would struggle against the undead's attrition warfare tactics. Fortunately, they weren't currently fighting the undead; Grom's allied tribes needed to conquer territory to recuperate.

Grom looked back at the other tribal leaders who had formed an alliance behind him. One of them, a troll witch doctor, was still injured, not by humans, but by one of his own kind.

The continent where these orcs originally lived was not peaceful. Grom's tribal alliance suffered a defeat in a war with another tribal alliance and was subsequently weakened. Just when they were at their wits' end, an opportunity arose: the Chaos Continent once again experienced a rift tide. The leaders ultimately decided to relocate to the "New World," no longer fighting for territory with their increasingly powerful old rivals.

Entering the "New World" was a gamble, and now it seemed Grom's gamble, while not a huge win, had at least paid off. Grom looked at the troops emerging from the mountainside; tens of thousands of black wolves, shadow panthers, and other wild beasts had gathered, along with several thousand gray werewolves, golden-maned lionmen, and a thousand-strong orc regiment. However, the portal was still unstable and couldn't withstand the passage of more orc and powerful orc armies. The shamans worked day and night, expecting the portal to be completely stable in two days. Then it would be time for the final assault; it had already dragged on long enough.

Just then, Grom spotted a wyvern rider flying over from a distance. The wyvern rider didn't land; instead, he dove down, dropped a recording magic stone, and then flew away.

Grom caught the recording magic stone, activated it, and his expression changed slightly. He then handed the stone to several skilled orc leaders.

Among the crowd behind them, a gaunt troll witch doctor with frighteningly long arms looked at the information recorded in the magic stone and said, "Humans are retreating? No, they're running away! That saves us a lot of trouble."

"No! This is a rare opportunity. Attacking the fleeing enemy can greatly reduce our casualties!" Another tribal chief clearly had a different opinion.

The troll witch doctor chieftain's eyes gleamed with a bloodthirsty red light. This man was thin and bony, but had a very volatile temper. He roared in dissatisfaction, "My tribe lost too many men in the last battle, so I will not send anyone to waste any more lives!"

Grom glanced at the troll witch doctor and said, "Witch doctor, your injuries are almost healed, aren't they? Your tribe definitely needs to rest, so you need to show your strength and fight for a piece of land for your people. Think long-term; we not only need to occupy a piece of land, but we also need to establish a foothold. The more enemies we eliminate now, the fewer enemies we'll face in the future. These humans are truly foolish, actually dragging civilians along to escape. This is a great opportunity for us to expand our gains!"

"Therefore! I propose launching the attack ahead of schedule!" Grom said.

"agree!"

"agree!"

The chief witch doctor also said, "Very well. I agree!"

"For the Horde!" the orc leaders shouted, raising their right hands high.

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