Chapter 884 - 499: Embers of the Long Night (Part 8)

In more than a year, everyone had already learned how to march under the cover of night. For a normal nocturnal march, they would need to maintain formation and verify headcount at all times, but now there were so few people that they didn’t even need to count. The company commander walked ahead holding a flashlight, with the soldiers behind him supporting their wounded comrades.

Qin Mian felt something slippery on his hands; the comrade he was supporting was trembling violently, yet remained silent. The team of a dozen soldiers advanced in alternating cover, apart from their breathing and footsteps, there was no noise at all.

All equipment had been wrapped with tape before the war started, and the backpacks and gear were firmly secured.

As the company commander walked, he spoke in a low voice, "Keep an eye on the people to your left and right, don’t give up, the hardest times are over. We’ve prepared food and drink, not compressed biscuits or canned meat, it’s proper potato stew with beef, paired with white steamed buns. And... what else? My brain... oh right, after heading back this time, all your ranks can be promoted, not transferred to noncommissioned officer, but promoted, everyone gets promoted!"

If it were before, knowing this news, Qin Mian might have been thrilled to kiss the company commander, but now he merely tightened his grip on the brother beside him, desperately adjusting his breath, walking quicker and further.

The light ahead suddenly shook, someone cried out "Company Commander!"

Upon hearing this exclamation, Qin Mian knew something was wrong. He looked up just in time to see an arrow embedded in the company commander’s head, and not far away stood a tall soldier, without a horse, wearing something akin to cotton armor, adorned with metal studs, with four shrunken human heads hanging from his waist, string threaded through their ears like decorations.

Qin Mian couldn’t see the soldier’s face, he only felt those icy eyes like a beast lurking in the mountains, specifically hunting travelers.

Yet he felt no shock, only a near-numb tranquility.

’The enemy is weaker than the Black Armored Cavalry, wearing armor similar to cotton armor, uncertain if it could withstand bullets, no horse, but with long-range attack capabilities, estimated at a hundred meters away, weak power, low light on site, most comrades can’t see enemy positions, only I can see, can’t run, need to give teammates a hint...’

As comrades stood back-to-back, tense as they searched the area, Qin Mian released his wounded comrade and loaded the magazine filled with tracer rounds, a standard on the Eternal Night Battlefield, far exceeding other types of bullets.

Taking a deep breath, as the enemy’s head entered his sights, Qin Mian felt an icy dread, the opponent had discovered him!

As the enemy drew bow and fitted arrow, he squeezed the trigger.

Bitterly thinking, "Guns are faster than bows!"

The tracer rounds instantly illuminated the enemy’s silhouette; other soldiers reacted, turned their rifles, and fired without hesitation.

The "Long Word" rifle magazine is slightly larger than the "Iron Word," it’s a 45-round high-capacity magazine, with a tracer round every six shots. Apart from the wounded soldiers, the remaining ten simultaneously opened fire, instantly lighting the target brightly.

Fortunately, the enemy’s armor couldn’t fully defend against large caliber rifle rounds, unfortunately, the enemy could dodge bullets.

The man, wearing armor, wielded a large bow, with four or five human heads hanging from his waist running like a rabbit, disappeared into the night with a flash, the intense light-dark contrast causing Qin Mian to lose sight of him.

"Cease fire, cease fire!"

"Is he dead?"

"Seems he ran away."

"Damn it, didn’t hit him?"

"He’s injured, shouldn’t run far."

The crowd immediately rushed to check the company commander’s wounds, and as Qin Mian had seen, the commander passed away swiftly.

Apart from this, there was another injured, shot in the thigh by an arrow.

In the remaining troop of thirteen, only nine were unharmed, with four wounded soldiers.

"What do we do now?"

A Senior Private couldn’t help but ask, everyone instinctively searched among their comrades for the highest-ranking soldier, but only found a few Senior Privates, all mostly peers.

"Gangdan, where’s your squad leader?"

A Senior Private asked.

The latter replied irritably, "Lost in the front-line engagement, don’t call me Gangdan."

Qin Mian lifted his head slightly; Gangdan was a fellow veteran from the same squad, joined a year before him, had it not been for the current situation, might’ve been a noncommissioned officer by now, due to varicocele constantly complaining of aching balls, so everyone called him Gangdan.

Normally the group would have laughed, but now no one could muster a smile.

"Then what do we do now?" A soldier looked around at the pitch-black night, swallowed hard.

"Keep moving, back to the camp!" Gangdan said.

The Senior Private who spoke first retorted, "How do we go, can’t see a thing in this darkness..."

Gangdan snatched the flashlight from another person, opened it with gritted teeth, "I’ll lead up front, you all follow a bit further back."

The enemy had excellent marksmanship, whoever held the light was on Death God’s hit list.

Even Qin Mian felt guilt for their usual teasing nickname.

This brave act made everyone silent for a moment; the Senior Private immediately said, "One squad, one person, if Gangdan dies, I’ll be next."

"Don’t damn call me Gangdan!"

The irritable Gangdan elicited some laughter from the crowd.

Everyone quickly cleaned up the battlefield, but unfortunately, that "man" hadn’t left much information.

While Qin Mian helped re-bandage a comrade’s wounds, Gangdan came over, whispered, "I know you have sharp eyes, if you see anything, remember to alert me, if there’s no time, I won’t blame you, just avenge me!"