Tian Xingjian lay motionless in a shell crater, the mud covering his body blending him seamlessly into his surroundings.
In this artillery forward base, far removed from the main battlefield, there was no other living creature besides him.
Not even a single rat.
In fact, the planet Miloc didn't have rats at all.
This small hill was covered in dense jungle, where the Federation artillery company had once been hidden—now reduced to ashes by bombardment a few days ago.
Scattered around Tian Xingjian were remnants of all kinds: metal fragments, charred bodies. The detonation of ammunition had destroyed the surrounding forest for over a hundred meters, and the fire had burned for two days before finally dying out.
Tian Xingjian felt drowsy, his eyelids drooping against his will. He slapped his face lightly to wake himself, forcing his eyes back to the battlefield.This was the twenty-first battle for Tian Xingjian, a corporal of the Federation Airborne Marine Corps.
From the Galileo System to the Newton System, the Federation forces had retreated continuously, losing twenty-two resource planets and five human-colonized worlds. Miloc was one of the two human colonies in the Newton System; the other, Miloc II, had fallen entirely to the Imperial Army two months ago.
If this planet also fell, the Federation would have to relinquish the Newton System, which contained more than thirty resource planets, without a fight.
But Tian Xingjian didn't care about these strategic calculations. His concern was survival—plain and simple.
The philosophy of self-preservation was his creed.
Thus, after twenty-one battles, Tian Xingjian—corporal and mech maintenance soldier of the 1st Squad, Logistics Company, 3rd Armored Battalion, 5th Armored Division of the Airborne Marines—was still a corporal.
Most of his comrades who had survived the first eighteen battles had been promoted. Yet after fighting across three planets from the Galileo System to the Newton System, the only one still alive here was this unpromoted mech technician. The 5th Armored Division of the Federation Marine Corps had been wiped from records: ninety-five percent dead, the remaining five percent stranded on Miloc II with slim chances of survival.
Tian Xingjian had narrowly escaped death and been lucky enough to board a retreating ship, being reassigned to the remnants of the 9th Armored Division to defend Miloc.
He moved stealthily to a fallen tree, lying on his side to relieve himself—a skill honed over repeated battlefield experience. As long as the slope was slightly elevated, the urine wouldn't backflow. Long campaigns had taught Tian Xingjian not to panic and wet himself under fire.
Shivering slightly, he spat to clear his head, cursing his luck. The 9th Armored Division, already down forty percent in manpower, had been ordered to retreat to the Darwin System to regroup. But the Imperial Army had landed on Miloc within a week, forcing headquarters to consolidate all nearby units to resist and delay the enemy, allowing reinforcements to assemble.
Even though his hiding spot was carefully chosen and far from the battle's core, to the survival-minded Tian Xingjian, it was still not completely safe.
From his vantage point, the battle still raged. At nine, twelve, and three o'clock positions were nearly a hundred Imperial "San-Kai 22" anti-joint single-pilot combat mechs, each two meters tall.
These Imperial standard mechs moved with ostrich-like agility, their wing-like missile launchers screaming as they fired laser-guided missiles.
Compressed at six o'clock were over ten Federation "Honor 15" multi-legged five-man combat mechs, three meters tall. Despite their staggering defense and dexterous leg movements controlled by onboard computers, their firepower was suppressed by the Imperial units. For a short time, the nimble Imperial single-pilot mechs outmaneuvered the slower, defensive Federation formation.
Missiles streaked across the battlefield, energy cannons roared. This small sector, contested by only a few mechs, was the northwest defensive protrusion of New Rome, Miloc's largest industrial city, defended by a reinforced medium armored company and an artillery company of the Federation tasked with protecting rear logistics.
No fortifications or trenches blocked the infantry; this was only an advanced outpost. The Federation's first real defensive line lay in the jungle several kilometers behind.
Beyond the first line was the Su River Bridge, Miloc's largest river, and the Federation's hastily constructed second line—the final defense of New Rome. If this line fell, urban combat would become inevitable.
Amid this chaos, the only unarmored soldier was mech technician Tian Xingjian, sent here days ago to maintain the mechs. He had spent two days watching the battle alone, with no trenches, no fortifications, and no infantry comrades to share the danger. Feeling glum, he muttered, "Damn it, I can't take this anymore!"
At that moment, the order to retreat came through his headset.
The central line, thirty-seven kilometers away, had been partially breached. Imperial armored forces were pouring in, and a small Imperial detachment—two heavy and eight medium mechs—was flanking toward the rear. If Tian Xingjian didn't escape before they arrived, it would be a one-way trip to meet the afterlife.
In the hilly terrain, mechs could reach 150 km/h; on roads, speeds doubled. Dense jungle and small streams might slow them slightly, but they could still reach the battlefield in twenty minutes.
Receiving the retreat order, Tian Xingjian nearly leaped with joy. Yet the thought of facing an Imperial detachment en route, including two heavy mechs, left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Confirming the order on his left-arm combat recorder, Tian Xingjian began his twenty-first escape. Checking his gear, he sprinted like a leopard, vaulting fallen trees and shell craters, reaching the edge of the hill and diving into the jungle twenty meters below like a startled lizard.
The retreating Federation mechs also began to pull back. Perhaps the Imperial forces received the same intel, as the battle intensified.
Smoke and explosions filled the sky. Federation Honor 15s provided mutual cover while the Imperial single-pilot mechs attempted to encircle them, aiming to annihilate the last twelve medium mechs.
The Imperial flanking route passed near Tian Xingjian's hiding hill. The Federation noticed the move: controlling the hill was key to securing the retreat path. Two retreating Honor 15s rushed to secure it before thirty San-Kai 22s could arrive.
Tian Xingjian, meanwhile, ran through the jungle like a cornered dog.
"He's a strange coward. Looks simple, but he's a sneaky bastard." That was the consensus about Tian Xingjian.
And indeed, he was a mischievous sort.
Plump and plain-looking, he had always been fond of circling girls back in school, claiming to be descended from the infamous Tian Boguang—though nobody cared. He persisted nonetheless.
Tian Xingjian was patient, creative, and strangely logical. His reason for joining the army? To lose weight.
Lazy and overweight, he sought discipline and a new life. Having gained twenty kilos since leaving school, he feared the future if this continued. Without supervision, he knew he couldn't stick to a fitness plan.
Thus, he enlisted. The army doctor, impressed by his agility despite his weight, pushed him into special training, and he quickly demonstrated exceptional speed, endurance, and combat ability.
In special training, he realized the consequences of talking back—harsh indeed. The camp was for soldiers with unique talents, training them for specialized roles. Some had extraordinary calculation abilities; others keen senses, strength, or dexterity. Tian Xingjian, initially resistant to reconnaissance duties due to fear, was eventually beaten into submission and enrolled.
But he excelled and cunningly found a way to avoid frontline reconnaissance: he gravitated toward the mech maintenance camp.
Tian Xingjian's mechanical skills were extraordinary. He could disassemble and reassemble weapons and equipment faster than anyone else, excelling in theoretical and practical exams. The mech camp commandant, recognizing his genius, approved his transfer. Tian Xingjian rejoiced—but little did he know how trying the real assignments would be.