A fleet of black vehicles sped recklessly across the snowy plains, crushing everything that dared to stand in their way.
The only things capable of stopping them were mountains and boulders they could not smash apart.
“Boss, there’s nothing left to squeeze from the nearby villages. I’ve heard a caravan has been passing through this area every few days. Most likely, a new village has migrated here. This is a great opportunity to make a fortune.”
Inquisitor A spoke with a fawning smile to the Senior Inquisitor.
“Shut your mouth. We are hunting down the unruly Infected for the sake of His Majesty the Emperor’s rule, not for personal gain. Everything we do is for Ursus.”
The Senior Inquisitor rebuked his subordinate with a solemn expression.
“I get it. Boss just likes to play that tune. Those Infected are poor and broken, and their constitutions are terrible. Even sending them to the Army’s mines wouldn’t yield much profit. We’re actually helping them. Hahahaha…”
Inquisitor A didn’t care in the slightest, and for a moment, the carriage was filled with cheerful laughter.
…
“The Infected Patrol Squad is almost here!”
An Infected sentry hurried over to report to Mo.
Mo sighed as he looked at the anxious crowd before him.
Then he slammed the butt of his spear heavily against the ground.
A powerful shockwave swept through the crowd.
The noisy people immediately fell silent, all of them looking up at Mo from the high platform.
“No more nonsense.”
Mo raised his spear.
“Boys, let’s give ’em hell!”
“Give ’em hell!”
“Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho! WAAAAAAAGH!”
The Infected below the platform were like a newly ignited fire, their long-suppressed rage burning fiercely.
It seemed his efforts hadn’t been wasted after all.
Though…
Did something strange get mixed in there?
“Everything according to plan. Move out!”
At Mo’s command, the Infected quickly moved into position.
They had been preparing for this operation ever since the camp was established.
Every person knew exactly what they needed to do.
Furthermore, with the carefully calculated surprise attack, as long as they could overcome their fear of the Infected Patrol Squad, there was no possibility of losing this battle.
Once the Infected had completed their deployment, the Infected Patrol Squad soon arrived according to the information they had gathered.
About a hundred meters from the camp, the Infected Patrol Squad was stopped by the outer perimeter wall.
They had no choice but to leave their vehicles and enter the camp on foot.
The moment the Infected Patrol Squad stepped out of their vehicles, the operation began.
Phase One: Distraction
Disrupt the enemy formation and harass the enemy.
“Mist!”
As the Infected Patrol Squad entered through the perimeter wall, the Infected received their orders and began coordinating with one another.
Using their Originium Arts, they manipulated hidden water sources near the wall, causing the water to collide violently with flames conjured by other Infected.
A massive amount of steam instantly filled the area.
The freezing air of the ice plains rapidly condensed the steam into thick mist, surrounding the Infected Patrol Squad and completely cutting off their line of sight.
“Harass!”
The purpose was not to inflict serious damage, but to distract the Infected Patrol Squad and prevent them from determining where the attacks were coming from.
It was worth mentioning that while cataloging the Infected’s Originium Arts, Mo had discovered one particularly useful ability.
His own Originium Arts appeared to be some kind of electromagnetic ability.
Unfortunately, its intensity was so low that it could only interfere with a person’s sense of direction.
Although it couldn’t cause any direct damage, it proved quite useful in the current situation.
After all, everyone had their own use.
Mo’s Arts successfully interfered with the Inquisitors’ sense of direction, leaving the Infected Patrol Squad unable to determine where the attacks were coming from.
Phase Two: Entrapment
“Trap!”
While the Infected Patrol Squad was surrounded by the sudden mist and completely disoriented, an Infected capable of controlling soil removed the dirt covering several pre-laid traps.
Several unlucky Inquisitors immediately fell into the pits amid the chaos.
Stone pillars hidden at the bottom pierced them, killing them instantly.
The Infected Patrol Squad had not been large to begin with.
After this attack, they had already lost half their numbers.
The remaining Inquisitors were forced to stumble through the maze of traps while their senses were still being disrupted by Originium Arts.
Phase Three: Attack
“Attack!”
The physically stronger Infected worked in pairs, carrying thick, long tree trunks.
Then they thrust them violently into the mist.
The Inquisitors were frantically watching their feet, terrified of stepping into another trap.
They never expected massive tree trunks to suddenly burst out of the mist.
Caught completely off guard, one Inquisitor was immediately knocked backward and sent tumbling into a pit to be “laid to rest.”
Only the Senior Inquisitor remained.
Relying on his decent skills, he managed to survive both the traps and the tree-trunk attacks.
He quickly pulled out his Casting Unit and prepared to launch a counterattack.
At this point, the Infected in the camp changed roles.
They became “Infected Throwers.”
One after another, they hurled specially crafted spears imbued with various Originium Arts at the surviving Senior Inquisitor.
With the superhuman physical strength possessed by Terra’s inhabitants, the spears easily crossed the distance between them.
The Senior Inquisitor hurriedly activated his Casting Unit and formed a shield to block the incoming spears.
Most of the projectiles were stopped.
Until one spear, imbued with Originium Arts capable of altering an object’s weight, smashed through the shield with tremendous force.
The remaining spears immediately exploited the opening.
The Senior Inquisitor was struck from multiple directions.
Most of the Infected’s spears lacked enough power to pierce through an enemy outright, but their Originium Arts made up for that deficiency.
Burns.
Frostbite.
Blunt-force injuries.
Strange wounds inflicted by various Arts.
All of them struck the Senior Inquisitor at once, knocking him to the ground.
Phase Four: Finishing Off
After Mo issued the command, he walked toward the Infected Patrol Squad with his shield and spear in hand to inspect the results of the battle.
Seeing the Senior Inquisitor covered in injuries from various Originium Arts, Mo couldn’t help but twitch the corner of his mouth.
He then thrust his spear through the enemy’s chest to ensure there would be no “coming back to life.”
After confirming that no one had survived, Mo struck his spear against his shield.
Clang!
The clear, melodious ring of metal echoed throughout the camp, announcing their victory.
After a brief silence, cheers erupted from the camp.
They had finally protected their home.
This was the first successful resistance by the camp’s Infected against the Infected Patrol Squad.
And against Ursus itself.
The battle seemed to have been won with astonishing ease.
In reality, it hadn’t been particularly difficult.
After all, what made Ursus powerful was its Army—not these parasites.
If even its parasites were difficult to defeat, Ursus would have conquered all of Terra long ago.
Every step taken by the Infected Patrol Squad had been within Mo’s expectations.
If he hadn’t deliberately wanted to build the Infected’s confidence, enemies of this caliber wouldn’t even have been able to get close to him.
Once the Infected had largely vented their emotions, Mo gathered everyone around the bonfire to review the entire operation.
The Infected Patrol Squad had been destined to enter the camp on foot through the perimeter-wall entrance.
When constructing the camp, Mo had deliberately left a main road leading to the entrance.
Every other direction was surrounded by mountains.
Faced with civilians who had never dared to resist them, the Infected Patrol Squad naturally wouldn’t bother crossing mountains.
Moreover, the wagon tracks they had been following ended at the entrance.
Once they learned that the Infected Patrol Squad was approaching, the entrance was narrowed so that their vehicles could no longer drive inside.
Although the wall itself was flimsy enough that the vehicles could have simply rammed through it, the Infected Patrol Squad would never do something like that.
First, it was unnecessary.
Civilians were powerless to resist the Infected Patrol Squad.
Second, if their vehicles were damaged, they would have to pay for the repairs themselves.
A single camp couldn’t provide much profit, so if their vehicles were damaged, they would have effectively made the entire trip for nothing.
Even if the Infected Patrol Squad had actually charged into the camp, it wouldn’t have mattered.
The very first thing Mo had constructed in the entire camp was the underground shelter.
There had been no one in the surface camp during the battle.
Furthermore, there was a significant difference in elevation between the ground outside the wall and the ground inside it.
Once a vehicle drove in, it would have difficulty getting back out.
It would have been even easier to “catch a turtle in a jar.”
As for the traps at the entrance, they had been covered securely.
Without being triggered by Originium Arts, they were indistinguishable from an ordinary road and could even withstand the weight of passing vehicles.
As for the subsequent combat, the mist created by steam condensation was simply a combination of local conditions and high-school geography.
The effectiveness of the attacks, meanwhile, was largely thanks to the enemy’s incompetence.
They were merely an Infected Patrol Squad, trained to bully powerless civilians.
Naturally, they couldn’t compare to the disciplined and well-equipped Ursus Army.
Once the Infected were properly organized, defeating them was relatively simple.
From the moment the Infected made the decision to resist, the outcome of this battle had never been in doubt.