Hundreds of tents made up the frontline command encampment of the Perimeter Xilang Peak battlefield. To safeguard the core, squads from the various fronts were dispersed around the periphery, encircling the main camp. This inner area encompassed the headquarters, quarters for senior and civilian officers, communications stations, field hospitals, and more.
The makeshift airfield was situated behind the command post. That would be the last, and best, location for an interception.
Han Qingyu and his companions—the four of them—circled through the grasslands on the flank to stage a sprint toward the airfield. After entering the perimeter of the encampment, they stayed as low as possible mid-sprint, constantly weaving to avoid searchlights and crowds.
The time was 5:34. Under the dim predawn sky, rows upon rows of military tents stood in dense layers.
Because battles against the Great Spikes never observed any clear distinction between day and night, coupled with elite squads being continuously reassigned down from Xilang Peak throughout the day, the vast camp remained bustling even at this hour.
Murmurs and chatter sounded on all sides. Those asleep were far too exhausted to be disturbed; if anything, the palpable presence of their comrades allowed them to sleep with greater peace of mind.
Dozens of searchlights swept back and forth relentlessly.
"When Rusty Sister and I went out earlier, I looked around," Wen Jifei whispered to Han Qingyu as they ran. "No matter which direction we take, getting into the airfield requires slipping past at least three checkpoints. On top of that, the watchtowers around headquarters will probably spot us too."
Wen Jifei quietly briefed Han Qingyu on the layout of the camp while running. When he had taken Rusty Sister out earlier to spread word of the incident—priming hearts and laying emotional ambushes—he had already scouted the area and reasoned through it.
This was the thorniest dilemma before them, because they could not lay hands on fellow Azure soldiers.
In their year or so with Azure, throughout this entire journey, everything they had encountered and come to know had actually been quite good—except for the Alphonse family. Even a madman like Qi Shantong or the White Erasers with whom they had perpetual friction had qualities worth admiring; they were all comrades who had once fought side by side.
"We bypass whatever we can," Han Qingyu said. "What we can't... we'll just have to charge right through."
Han Qingyu figured the soldiers at ordinary checkpoints wouldn't be exceptionally strong, nor would their numbers be overwhelming. Given their strength, assaulting the headquarters would be nearly impossible, but with the airfield as their objective, things should be somewhat better. Even if they were spotted, the main alert and response forces would likely focus on defending headquarters.
"Looks like they've already seen us," Wu Xu spoke up out of nowhere, pointing toward the heights as his figure dipped into the darkness.
In the direction he pointed, dozens of watchtowers loomed tall along the perimeter of the command post. With an almost complete lack of blind spots, there was no way to evade them.
At that very moment, a young soldier scanning the grounds through binoculars on a watchtower pointed down and whirled toward his teammate. "Movement!"
Figures were sprinting at high speed through the dark, their silhouettes rising and falling.
"Yeah, I see them too." The veteran comrade kept his binoculars raised, nodding. "Looks like two or three. Lost sight of them now. No idea what they're up to."
"Then..." The young soldier hesitated. "Should we sound the alarm?!"
A watchtower alarm was the fastest, most direct, and most drastic reaction. Once sounded, it meant full-scale alert and mobilization; the entire command encampment would be roused.
Seeing no objection from his teammate, the young soldier reached out, his hand touching the alarm switch.
"Wait," the veteran holding the binoculars suddenly raised a hand to stop him.
For right then, within his field of view, the figures he had lost track of reappeared—three of them. Few in number, but judging by their speed, they were formidable.
Moreover, the direction they were heading didn't seem to be the main command camp.
"They're..." The veteran tracked them through the binoculars, muttering as he puzzled over it.
Before he could finish, within the circular frame of his binoculars, a blue starlight column sword suddenly shot diagonally into the sky... and then plummeted back down, caught by one of the rapidly moving figures below.
"That sword... it's The King, Major Qing."
The veteran's tone relaxed, touched with an inexplicable excitement. "There must be some unexpected situation he's handling."
It couldn't be helped; Han Qingyu's performance on Xilang Peak had simply been too magnificent, too awe-inspiring. A soldier's instinct would never suspect him of violating discipline or doing anything to harm Azure.
"No need to sound the alarm. Just report it up the line on the comms."
A report still had to be made, of course. Most likely, the higher-ups already knew what was happening and simply hadn't notified the ranks yet, the veteran reasoned.
He had witnessed that soaring strike against the starry night sky below Xilang Peak, and right now he couldn't bear to lower his binoculars, hoping in his heart that he might clearly watch Major The Qing fight once more.
The young soldier beside him quickly made a brief report and hurried back, raising his binoculars in excitement. He wasn't as fortunate as the veteran; everything he knew of Major The Qing's battles came from hearsay—and by all accounts, the spectacle was breathtaking.
"The alarm didn't sound," Wen Jifei said, pulling his gaze back.
This proved Qingzi's judgment and reaction were right.
"Yeah. Hurry." Han Qingyu nodded.
*Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!* Source energy flared, and the four charged straight for the airfield.
. . .
In the main command camp, lights shone inside a tall, spacious military tent.
This spot was very close to the airfield and heavily guarded.
Their luggage had already been packed. Denis Alphonse sat there, lifted his wrist to check his watch, and said, "It's about time to leave."
Under the pretext of an old injury flaring up, they had requested departure and met no resistance whatsoever. Strictly speaking, they were never part of the Nepal Front's order of battle to begin with. Their arrival on the front line for this battle had merely been to temporarily fill the command vacuum left after Upadhyaya fell in battle.
Now that the battlefield situation had entered its concluding phase, their early departure wouldn't affect anything.
Denis spoke as he rose to his feet.
Beside him, his son Eric Alphonse, who looked barely any different in age from him, rose as well. A faint sneer curled the corner of Eric's mouth. "Then let them live forever in the agony of losing their teammates."
As one of the two parties involved, they understood everything all too clearly. The matter had already advanced to the next phase. Following the failure of the assassination plot on the plateau and the direct intrusion into the family manor in Nepal, the family's subsequent decision had been wise and decisive:
They prepared to accept the fact that Han Qingyu would receive the Star of Azure, braced themselves for whistleblowing and accusations, and readied themselves to enter a prolonged war of attrition and political maneuvering.
This phase would surely drag on for a very long time.
They would continue living peacefully in their manor, perhaps making a few more trips to Alliance headquarters for questioning, and for a short time they might have to forgo replenishment of life source energy... but at least there was no direct threat to their lives.
Meanwhile, Han Qingyu, Squad 1777, and even the likes of Chen Buer... would forever struggle in the torment of having lost seven squad members without the power to avenge them.
"Thinking about it like that, we really should feel pleased, savoring and observing their agony, enjoying it to the fullest. To be honest, I've already been missing life at the manor."
Denis Alphonse finished fastening his device and parachute, waiting for his grandson Charles Alphonse to return so they could head straight to the airfield.
The helicopter for their return journey was already waiting for them there.
*Whoosh...* Sounds swept toward the tent—*rustle, rustle, rustle*.
Suddenly, a flurry of hurried footsteps came from outside the tent. The tent flap was yanked open, and Charles Alphonse's panic-stricken face appeared in the opening.
"He's here! The watchtower report—I heard it—they're here!"
Chapter 348