[CELEBRATION] Completion of the Gran Mur [Congrats] pt 3

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The narration will come first this time due to the connection with the previous chapter.

- Aizen Power

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Four legs constantly pounding the ground, pushing forward. Amidst it all, the Marshal muttered to himself.

"Maneuverability is poor. Armor not welded, structure shaky. Engine heat is unbearable. But ventilation is excellent, at least we won't suffocate from gun smoke or carbon monoxide. Oh, and leg strength is also an issue."

"Who the fuck is that!? Don't talk to yourself! You're distracting me!"

Someone yelled. It's disheartening to hear nothing but negativity muttered, even if it's obvious during combat.

"It's me."

"Oh, my, Marshal... my apologies."

"No need to apologize, I was indeed at fault."

"So? How's the ride?" a Processor inquired.

"Terrible. When we get back, I'm stuffing the designer into this thing and making them go around the Republic."

"Sounds good! Let them taste this pain to the fullest!"

And so they bantered while heading southeast towards the base. Upon reaching the 60 km mark, one Processor gasped and reported.

"Hey! I see the Legion!"

Ahead was a cluster of silver gleam, being trampled by artillery fire as usual. Normally, they would pause here, wait for the bombardment to end, then encircle and cut down any surviving Legion.

But today was different.

"Wouldn't doing the same old job be boring? So, let's do this: this time, we'll send the Processor who kills the most Legion some of my personal stash of delicious wine!" The Marshal declared, even as the bombardment continued, plunging into the midst of the Legion.

"Hey! That bastard!"

"He's not gonna share that wine with us!? We won't let him! Let's snatch that wine so delicious it'll make the Marshal's cheeks drop off!"

"AFTER THE MARSHAL!!"

They all echoed, charging into the Legion amidst the banter.

The Marshal's combat skills were remarkable. Swiftly maneuvering the craft as if anticipating where the shells would land, dodging like a close combat scout, and the Processors following suit were also remarkable, deftly evading artillery shells amidst the rain of their allies' heavy fire.

"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA! This is fun!"

"The Marshal's gone bonkers!"

"You bastards!"

He skillfully dashed through the battlefield, slashing at enemies. Not content with one strike, they hacked at them repeatedly. Closing in, they brought the 57 mm cannon muzzle right against the enemy, pulling the trigger.

"This is delightful! Malzel!? Huh? Delightful! Delightful!"

"This is bad, Legion is still kinder."

"All units, be advised. Do not approach the Marshal. You'll be killed in the crossfire."

The Legion that approached the Marshal were all smaller than dice, neatly sliced into squares, blown by the blast of the artillery towards other Legion, penetrating their craft. Still not satisfied, the Marshal... no, was he some kind of demon... continued to exterminate the Legion with frenzied maneuvers.

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