Falcon City.
The once bustling streets were now eerily quiet.
Apart from a few major roads leading to the Royal Palace and the barracks that remained unobstructed, the rest of the streets and alleys were littered with obstacles and shelters.
Several laborers energetically fixed steel bars cast from scrap iron into triangular-shaped tank stoppers with rivets, their tenth one for the day.
The officer in charge of the labor crew had told them that this could withstand the tanks of the Alliance.
However, almost everyone felt it was a wasted effort.
If even the river embankments couldn't stop the treads of the Alliance tanks, what use was there for these hastily assembled anti-tank barricades?
They could easily crash into the houses on both sides of the streets and simply bypass them.
"I heard Bister Town has fallen."
A man with his upper body bare wiped sweat off his brow, his sun-darkened arm resting on the newly assembled anti-tank stopper.
