The most rampant, ignorant, and brutal Pure Purgatory had, in all likelihood, already been swept off the board by Han Qingyu. That Cleansing Faction organization reportedly had few top combat powers to begin with, and the one they dispatched here was probably their sole representative. Once he was dead, that was the end of them—just rotten luck.
As for what remained, there were likely still forces from the Cleansing Faction or Self-Preservation Faction lurking within the theater of war, but none of them seemed to be making much noise.
After trekking across the region over the past two days and two nights, most of the squads they encountered were in decent shape. Thinking along those lines, Squad 1777 should be in even better condition. Putting their worries aside, the four temporarily stopped fretting.
The rumors of them roasting Great Spike arms were gradually spreading around, even though they had actually been roasting snakes.
After dinner, they relocated from the sheltered bottom of the slope to the windward grassy hillside. Wen Jifei and Wu Xu sat side by side, the black spear and the alluringly metallic Milla 9 sniper rifle resting on the grass beside them, while Qingzi's long black wooden case served as their seat.
The afterglow of the setting sun gradually sank along the distant horizon. The wind rustled the blades of grass with a gentle swoosh. The plateau scenery was breathtaking.
After carefully burying the campfire and snake bones, Shen Yixiu walked over, stood before them, and said, "Scoot over. Make some room for me to sit."
"No can do." Wen Jifei patted the wooden case twice, gesturing at the iron armor encasing Shen Yixiu. "If you accidentally crush it, watch out—he might catch a snake and toss it on you."
On the other side of the grassy slope, Han Qingyu stood with his back to them, communicator in hand, pacing with his head tilted back as he tried to find a signal.
Communication in this area was simply abysmal. For a long time, the region surrounding Xilang Peak had relied on the Rejecters' super-station nestled inside the mountain itself; garrisons were sparse, and communication infrastructure was rudimentary. When it abruptly turned into a battlefield, the combat engineers' construction of makeshift base stations couldn't keep pace at all.
Furthermore, standard squad communicators couldn't initiate contact with the Rejecters here. Fortunately, Han Qingyu possessed both privilege and personal connections, carrying a specialized communicator that let him attempt to reach Tu Zi.
"He really would throw a snake at me."
"Sigh." Rusty Sister sat down aggrievedly on a rock. After gazing at the scenery for a while, she suddenly grumbled, "Dammit. If that big villain Han Qingyu were even one-tenth as gentle with me as he is with little Zhuoma, that'd be something."
The imposing suit of iron armor looked thoroughly aggrieved, gazing forlornly at the sunset.
Wen Jifei chuckled and turned to say, "Haven't you noticed? He's actually become a lot gentler lately. Whether it was with Yaoyao-huanghuang at the All-Army Conference or with you... he even banters and teases you on his own initiative now."
The iron armor tilted its head in an adorably clueless way. "Really?"
"Of course." Wen Jifei turned his gaze back, pausing before continuing, "Ever since that visit to Brother Tian's house before the conference, seeing Brother Tian's daughter and father, Qingzi has softened quite a bit."
"He's not the type to say it out loud," Wen Jifei added. "But it seems like he wants to make himself a warmer person in everyday life. Look at how attentive and kind he was to little Zhuoma—deep down, how much of that was also meant for kids like Little Zhifan?"
In truth, it wasn't just Little Zhifan and little Zhuoma, but many others as well—Yaoyao-huanghuang, Rusty Sister... Iqbal.
Han Qingyu still didn't love Azure unconditionally, but he was gradually coming to care for more of the people within it—ordinary Azure soldiers like Iqbal, and all the Iqbals out there.
"Time to move out." As they were talking, Han Qingyu walked over, stowed away his communicator, and kicked Wen Jifei, who was sitting on the wooden case. "Up."
"Did you get an answer?" Wen Jifei grabbed his gun and stood.
"Yeah. The signal wasn't great, but Tu Zi roughly said that according to the command's last recorded status report, Squad 1777 was headed in the direction of Zanda. Check the map; let's get moving."
Han Qingyu swung the black wooden case onto his back, then glanced with confusion at Rusty Sister standing nearby. "What are you staring at me for? Want to play with snakes?!"
Rusty Sister turned her head away to ignore him, glaring at Wen Jifei. "Liar!"
"Haha, right then." Wen Jifei studied the map intently for a moment, then pointed to indicate their new course. "Zanda. We set off this way."
The four silhouettes marched into the dusk.
At this point, their path and Squad 1777's direction formed roughly a thirty-five-degree angle. Squad 1777 was heading south toward Purang, while they were moving southwest.
It wasn't diametrically opposed, nor would they end up that far apart in the end. But in between lay a destination discrepancy that went unnoticed for now. What was more, Squad 1777 was already not far from Purang.
This discrepancy could have stemmed from many reasons. For instance, Squad 1777 might have received subsequent orders to change course before the command records could be updated; or perhaps during the initial status report, an error had slipped into the logs amid the rush and chaos; or perhaps...
"Because he arrived too fast, and we weren't ready."
Farther along the route ahead, roughly midway between the legs of that thirty-five-degree angle, a Frenchman in his forties—dressed in an Azure lieutenant colonel's uniform and bearing a medieval knight's longsword across his back—straightened his spine and stood up in the gathering night, speaking to those around him.
The man had a tall, imposing build.
His hair was thinning, though not in a bald, slick way; rather, his M-shaped hairline had receded quite high. His beard was short, dense, and streaked with white stubble. Compared to the broad canvas of his face, his facial features were somewhat small, yet by no means unsightly or weak.
His name was Sean, and he came from the Alphonse family.
"The Duke's intention is that if his squad falls into peril in Purang, he will definitely go... Having them die amid a swarm of Great Spikes while trying to save their teammates is the cleanest, least risky outcome," Sean continued. "Only as an absolute last resort will we take action ourselves."
***
"Over there is west. West. The sun sets in the west." Aiming an outstretched arm at the final sliver of twilight on the horizon, Liu Shiheng muttered to himself as he slowly pivoted. "North is up, south is down, west is left, east is right... Go!"
He didn't dare turn on his lighting gear, afraid that Captain Lao had already reported him as a deserter, and equally terrified of drawing Great Spikes... Fumbling through the dark, he skirted a cluster of low hills with rugged terrain. Standing at the mountain pass leading out, he looked blankly to the left, then to the right.
"God... damn it... all! Fuck this shit!"
Young Master Shiheng had lost his bearings once again.
"I should've just climbed straight over the hill. Why the hell did I go around?"
The trail markers left along the path when Liu Shiheng had traveled with the squad had abruptly vanished after he turned back and walked for most of the night. He couldn't tell whether he had veered off course himself, or if some squad passing through had unwittingly destroyed the markers.
Relying on memory and gut feeling, he had walked for a full day... and now had no clue where he was.
'Actually, as long as I stick to a single direction—as long as it's not south—I can get out,' he thought.
However, on this vast and intricate plateau, doing so was far easier said than done. People naturally drift off course as they walk. What was more, to avoid being spotted, Liu Shiheng constantly had to sneak around and take detours.
"Why didn't I think to bring a map?!"
Finding a sheltered spot among a heap of loose rocks in a valley, Liu Shiheng sat down, rested for a moment, and lowered his head to rummage through his backpack.
"Squad communicator—useless. Bank passbooks—useless. Flashlight—can't dare use it... If I'd known, I would've carried more food myself. He Tangtang, you bastard, insisting on carrying it for me..."
He unwrapped a crumpled wad of newspaper to reveal three dark-green military ration cans, but all three were already empty.
A few remnants of crumbs and greasy residue still clung to the inner walls of the cans. Liu Shiheng carefully licked two clean. Just as he picked up the third to lick it, he hesitated. "This won't do."
About half an hour later, Liu Shiheng returned, moving cautiously with every step. The empty tin can in his hand now held water with shimmering oil slicks, along with two thumb-thick nameless little fish and four or five rinsed grasshoppers.
Catching those things hadn't been easy.
Soon, he returned with an armful of firewood.
Not daring to let the fire get too big, Liu Shiheng lit it and made a point of circling outside the rock pile to check carefully. "Not bad. Can't see it from out here."
Returning among the rocks, Liu Shiheng set the water-filled tin can over the flame, sat down, and licked his lips.
"Gotta brew up some soup."
He leaned exhaustedly against a boulder, staring up at the sparse stars in the night sky. After looking for a while, he cursed, "Goddammit... What the hell does Polaris even look like?!"
The water in the can gradually began to boil, rising steam carrying a hint of savory aroma.
"Sigh. If Qingzi were here, we'd be having a pot of snake soup right about now."
Suddenly, he was thinking of them again... Liu Shiheng let out a self-deprecating chuckle.
"Three apex fighters, one of whom is a super-genius, plus a Dice, a reckless brute... Yang Qingbai's decent at flying planes too... and finally me, a pathetic wretch living hand-to-mouth, a coward."
Keep walking, keep going. No turning back. Not like I could fucking find my way back anyway.
"I hope they win, and that I don't die, and that I don't do anyone wrong."
The soup was ready. Wrapping it with newspaper, he lifted the can and took a cautious sip. "Ah... not bad. Pretty tasty."
Finishing his fish-and-grasshopper soup, Liu Shiheng packed away the empty cans. Hoisting his pack, he picked up a rock and tossed it casually.
Clack! The stone hit the ground, its sharpest point indicating a direction.
"That way it is. Leaving it to fate."
He walked through the darkness for over an hour.
"Fuck! Scared the shit out of me." At the foot of a desolate hill, a corpse lay faceup in the grass. It had Western features, but was clad in an Azure military uniform.
Having spent so much time in Azure, he wasn't particularly afraid of dead bodies anymore, especially a fallen comrade. Liu Shiheng turned the body over and saw the wound left by a Great Spike's column sword across the back.
A fatal wound to the back! 'I guess if I'd stayed in Azure, this would be my destined fate too.'
"Sorry, brother, I'm taking your smokes." Apologizing under his breath, Liu Shiheng searched around. Finding no backpack, he fished out a pack of cigarettes labeled "Surya" from the chest pocket, pocketed them, and continued forward.
After about ten meters, he stopped. Thinking it over, he turned back, dug a pit with his war blade, and buried the soldier's remains.
"This is all I can do for you. Rest in peace. In your next life, don't come to this goddamn bullshit Azure... Sorry, maybe you weren't like me. Sorry."
With that, he turned and left. As he walked, a nagging sense that something was off began to creep over him.
'Unless they suffered catastrophic casualties and had no other choice, an Azure squad would never leave a comrade's corpse exposed in the wild like this. Just like if I died, Qingzi and the guys would never abandon me like that... Fuck, could he be from the Cleansing Faction? But his uniform and rank insignia were so neat... Whatever. Holy shit!'
In the distance, a shuttle craft descended onto a hillside.
Liu Shiheng turned on his heel and bolted.
In the vast majority of cases, Great Spikes would eliminate any human who entered their field of vision... Gripped by sheer terror and panic, Liu Shiheng fired up his apparatus and sprinted in frantic disarray, losing track of how far he ran.
Before him lay an open expanse showing signs of human habitation and grazing.
In the darkness, two figures finally emerged.
"Broth—" Liu Shiheng choked back the word rising to his lips and came to a halt. 'Why are there only two of them? What are they looking for? Something's not right.'
Prompted by his earlier train of thought, Liu Shiheng instantly went on high alert, deactivated his apparatus, and prepared to give them a wide berth.
However, the two figures were heading right in his direction.
"Motherfucker." Liu Shiheng glanced around. For three li in every direction, there wasn't a hill or a ditch in sight.
Nowhere to hide. Run? He knew his own limits; running was even more dangerous.
"Fuck, thank heavens luck is on my side."
In his utter desperation, he spotted what looked like a dark haystack under the cover of night. Quickening his pace, Liu Shiheng lunged forward without breaking stride and dove headfirst... Channeling his physical strength, he plunged straight inside.
"God... damn it... all!"
How could there possibly be a haystack on this plateau? It was a pile of yak dung.
Chapter 313