books44 Chapter 535 [Empire] People who can't return to the tent
Chapter 535 [Empire] People who can't return to the tent
We didn't go back very far.
The wind and snow stopped completely in the afternoon. The sun struggled to peek out from the clouds, a small piece of pale white light shining on the snowfield, but it did not bring any warmth.
On the open space at the assembly point, soldiers and cadets have set up rows of temporary tents, with supplies and materials piled on the edge. Some of them are used to repair the wounded, and the other part is used to defend against possible emergencies that may arise next.
There is no plan to return to the military academy, so we set up camp here.
I followed the group slowly through the snow, the snow beneath my feet already compacted by countless footsteps, making a dry, crunching sound. The wind was still blowing, swirling tiny ice crystals that brushed against my cheeks, as cold as a knife.
When I looked up, I saw a row of corpses wrapped in white cloth, neatly placed on the east side of the field, covered by layer upon layer of snow. Only the gray cloth and the faintly visible soldier armbands reminded each corpse that it was once a living person.
I looked at the area where we were and found that there were several corpses wrapped in white cloth next to our temporary camp.
Those are the people from our team.
They were the people who had stood guard and patrolled with me a few days ago, and had eaten simple fruit cakes and hot soup with me.
He was the one who helped me carry supplies in the heavy snow and once said with a smile that he wanted to go home and have a bowl of hot noodles.
They lay quietly, as if entering a sleep with no end in sight.
I suddenly felt something blocking my chest, and even my breath was stuck in my throat.
Qianmo stopped behind me without saying a word, but just put his hand on my shoulder, like a silent support, or like a silent companionship.
I lowered my head, staring at the cloth wet by the snowflakes, trying to calm myself down.
But the cold wind still made the corners of my eyes feel a little sour.
This wasn't a military academy drill ground. There were no medical cabins ready at all times, and no instructors to call a halt. This was a battlefield, and even a "temporary mission" was a place where one's life was at stake.
I am used to gambling with my life.
Originally.
But I don't like watching people around me gamble their lives.
I exhaled slowly, and the snow mist quickly condensed at my lips and disappeared in the white wind.
In the distance, soldiers were putting up a crude wooden sign next to a corpse, inscribed with its number and name. Watching the scene intently, I knew that each name represented a person who had once lived, who could laugh, cry out in pain, and secretly complain about the bad food during training.
"...They...will be afraid of the cold too." I said softly, my voice so weak that I could hardly hear it myself.
Qianmo tightened his grip on my shoulders, didn't answer, but just followed me and watched the white cloth being slowly swallowed by the wind and snow.
Occasionally, other students passed by, each with an indescribable expression on their face: numbness, fear, or simply feigning indifference and looking away. Some held food, some carried spare supplies, and some paused silently before the corpse, then quickly walked away.
I didn't move, nor did I say anything. I just continued to stare at those people, trying hard to engrave these images into my mind.
I know that this is the true face of war, not just blood, weapons and victory.
They are those who will never be able to return to their tents, never have hot soup again, and never see the next snow again.
Finally, I took a breath, looked up in the direction of the tent cluster, and my eyes became cold and firm.
"Let's go." I said softly, turning my head to look at Qianmo, "We still have to prepare for the night sentry. We can't let any more people lie here."
He looked at me quietly, with an almost invisible light in the depths of his eyes. In the end, he just nodded silently and kept up with my pace.
We walked through the snow, our steps still heavy but no longer hesitant.