The Song

A fierce wind howled through the gloomy night; a rain shower had just passed, and the air was damp and chilly.

In the deep darkness of the night, the vast, dim land is dotted with rugged and long ravines, and every now and then a flicker of firelight appears, accompanied by occasional bursts of noise and commotion.

In this filthy, foul-smelling, rotting land lived thousands upon thousands of intelligent animals, covered in mud, with disheveled hair, huddled and hunched over.

These people huddled around the roaring fire, close to their companions, and fished out a piece of tough, sinewy beef from the stew pot, tearing at it and swallowing the juices with gusto. The juices were scalding hot, and although they had a sour, unpleasant smell from the stew, they were still the most delicious thing in the world... second only to the sausages sent from their hometown.

They would also occasionally reach into their clothes and scratch vigorously, sometimes pinching out a plump louse, squeezing it with their fingernails until it made a crisp sound.

Then he let out a satisfied and pleasant sigh.

"Like killing a Distant Harbor!"

The soldiers who had reaped the spoils ground the dead lice with their fingers, smearing the blood from the lice's abdomens evenly on their fingertips, and then showed it to their comrades who were also grimacing and scratching, revealing a smug expression.

But then a sudden itch made him frown, so he continued to reach his hands, which were covered in lice blood, mud, and meat broth, into his clothes and scratch them vigorously. No soldier could avoid the bites of lice, and flies and mosquitoes took turns to torment him from day to night.

There are so many kinds of pests, just like rats, that it's impossible to count them all.

A soldier got up and hung the eighth rat he had killed on the edge of the shack. The biting wind made him shiver. The wind made the corpses of the eight death row inmates sway back and forth. They were attracted by the scraps of food and the torn flesh and blood, and they ate until they were fat and audacious.

The orderly gazed at the deathly cold night sky, his nose red from the cold. He rubbed his hands together, exhaled a thin puff of white steam, and uttered a heartfelt sigh.

"--What a beautiful night."

After the eight soldiers who were sheltering in this shack finished sharing the stew, the last piece of hard bread in their hands became soft and mushy in the broth, and they finally managed to chew and swallow it with great effort by their two rows of rotten teeth.

The captain, pipe in hand, poured the boiled liquor into everyone's mess kit. The soldiers eagerly sipped it, the mixture of sugar, alcohol, and potion completely numbing the souls of the walking dead, soothing the immense mental and physical torment they had suffered these past days.

"Let's have one, Satri!"

So the fire dispelled the chill, the soldiers sat around it, and the musician began to play his dulcimer.

He sang a song he had written a few days earlier in a light and humorous tone.

"The bullets buzzed like bees, the shells whizzed down, dirt flew everywhere, and Kang De threw bombs like a madman, as if the iron and fire falling from the sky were all free—"

The bearded bard strummed the strings a few times, sighed, and sang, "Oh, he can also throw landmines, he can also throw landmines."

The slightly tipsy soldiers slapped the ground and let out lazy laughter.

"When the bombing began, it was like a battle between gods, leaving us mortals scrambling in disarray. The earth trembled, the sky burned, and the trenches shook violently, making it impossible to see north or south or determine our direction."

"We were like a small boat on a raging sea, hiding in dark trenches, gloomy caves, moldy and rotting garbage, and fleas and rats scurrying everywhere. These were truly difficult times."

The melody shifts, from sorrow to gentleness, as the singer softly sings.

"Oh, Mom, don't misunderstand, don't worry about me. This is the safest place in the world. The Distant Harbor never launch attacks; they only defend themselves. They only defend themselves."

"Oh, Mother, don't be afraid, don't worry about me. This is the hottest cemetery in the world. If I die in this battle today, may the bombs bury me in the ground, may the bombs bury me in the ground."

Accompanied by the clinking of glasses, suppressed cheers, and clapping, the song transitions to its later part.

"Oh, Mother, don't cry. I don't know why I came here either. They say it's for honor and revenge, but I only came for those fifty-four silver coins. They say it's a sacred battle, a sacred battle."

"I don't know when victory will come, nor when I can go home. I don't know the answer; the answer lies with you all. Oh, Mother, Mother, you will surely ask and search for the answer yourself."

"Just don't ask, don't ask, there are some people you shouldn't ask."

"Don't ask the recruiting officer; he's counting gold coins in the back with a woman in his arms."

"Don't ask the generals; they're busy awarding medals to fake heroes."

"Don't ask the mages; they're resting in their Arcane fortifications."

"The quartermaster is drinking hard liquor, the commander is having a feast, and we're hiding in the bunker."

"Oh, Mother, Mother, don't ask these people. They don't know why they came here, and no one knows when they can go home. Only one person knows, only one person knows..."

"Oh, Mom, don't ask me for details about this person's name. I dare not tell you, I dare not tell you. Anyway, this person isn't little Henry from next door, because I just saw this recruit the day before yesterday—"

He was hanging from the barbed wire fence, his head just touching the ground.

The dulcimer player gently plucked a few notes, and in the lingering echo, slowly sang. "The head just touches the ground."

After a brief silence, the dulcimer began to pluck the strings rapidly, and the singer sang urgently. "Bullets buzz like bees, shells whiz down, dirt flies everywhere, Kang De throws bombs like a madman, as if iron and fire falling from the sky are all free, oh, he's still throwing landmines, he's still throwing landmines."

"Dear Mother, do not weep for me. This is the hottest cemetery in the world. If I die in this battle today, may the shells bury me in the earth, may the shells bury me... in the earth."

The singing stopped, and only a faint note of the piano lingered before slowly fading away.

The soldiers laughed and clinked glasses.

They huddled together in their makeshift shelter, the ground of which had been compacted and covered with pebbles, shell fragments, and soft garbage. There were even pillows stuffed with things like advertising flyers, burlap sacks, and plastic packaging, stained with mud and blood. They made their home here, they endured their suffering here, and this damp, cold night was indeed a rare treat.

Because the night sky will not be bright, because steel will not burn.

They shared everything and supported each other.

Far from home, their lives adrift on a turbulent, raging sea, strangers found themselves more closely connected, sharing fear, struggling to survive, complaining, and...

--anger.

In every trench, in every shack, and among every life that hovered near the front lines, teetering on the brink of death, they tacitly built their own little kingdom.

The song ended, but the rare rest was far from over. The night was peaceful, with firelight and singing echoing throughout the position. A soldier finished the liquor in his mess kit, let out a burp, and slurred, "Let me tell you a Council joke, one I just heard from the bugler today, called 'The Grand Speaker at the Front'..."

Just then, a cold snort came from not far away.

The soldiers in the shack immediately changed their expressions, then looked at each other and relaxed.

They turned to look outside the fire-lit shed, where several officers, dressed in riding boots and impeccably uniformed, arrived like ghosts. They wore spellcaster badges, and the ceremonial staffs hanging from their waists shone with the light of Illumination Spell. Their breath turned into white vapor in the cold night, and their expressions were shrouded in Shadow.

The leading officer said coldly, "What were you singing and saying just now?"

The glamorous spellcaster officer and the dirty, exhausted common soldier were worlds apart in status and power, belonging to two completely different worlds. The latter seemed to have no choice but to grovel before the former.

The eight soldiers in the shack didn't even get up, their expressions listless.

"Sir," the squad leader said casually, "He just sang a simple country tune and told a few crude jokes. Kind sir, we're tired and cold, we need to find some fun."

The soldiers laughed in agreement; they were dressed like beggars, but in front of these officers who wielded power and authority, they were as proud as kings.

They met the cold, stern-faced gazes of the mage officers fearlessly.

At some point, the singing from the other shacks along this trench fell silent, and in the flickering firelight, shadowy figures moved about, and silent eyes peered into this place.

The silent eye contact lasted for a moment.

The officer's expression was icy as he coldly stated, "Routine inspection—I ask you, did your squad discover and retrieve any weapons from the Distant Harbor, such as unexploded alchemical bombs, intact shrapnel, or any other distinctive, previously unseen material structures?"

The captain replied lazily, "No, sir. If I had, I would have been transferred back to the rear long ago."

"I'll ask you again, did your squad pick up and hoard the supplies airdropped by the Distant Harbor, including various kinds of food, candy, desserts, and drinks?"

"Your Excellency, we had no idea Kang De was so generous."

"..." The officer's expression was grim, his tone almost monotone, "Once you find any supplies airdropped from the Distant Harbor, you must hand them over immediately. The quartermaster will reward you with corresponding food, sleeping bags, drinks, blankets, and other military supplies. All supplies from the Distant Harbor are strictly prohibited from being used by yourselves. Kang De has added deadly toxins to them. For your own safety, remember this well!"

Upon hearing this, the soldiers let out a low, disdainful chuckle.

They deliberately whispered in a voice just loud enough for the officers to hear.

"Damn it, last time I picked up a bag of White Rabbit, the quartermaster threw me a bag of roasted soybeans!"

"It's really strange. Kang De could just throw iron and fire at us every day and kill us off one after another. Why did he have to use poison?"

"Come on, we've all heard. The north is teeming with Kang De's green-skinned minions, attacking supply trains everywhere. And today's beef is even worse than last week's..."

"They're treating us like fools, a bunch of idiots..."

The voices grew increasingly audacious, filled with vulgarities. The noble officer could no longer tolerate it, and one of his adjutants pressed down on his staff, shouting sharply, "Insolence!"

The soldiers jumped up as if struck by lightning, their eyes wide open. Their disheveled hair could not conceal their wolf-like gazes, which trembled with fear, yet also with an undisguised... excitement.

Shadows moved about in the shack not far away, and a chilling wind carried whispers of unease.

There are eight soldiers in front of us, who are in poor spirits, in bad physical condition, and emotionally unstable.

A cold glint flashed in the eyes of the officer who came to inspect the area.

The standard wristband on his left hand contained three battlefield self-defense spells, which could be released by activating magic. The first Flash Spell, could blind them, and was extremely effective in the cramped environment of the shack. The second spell, Atmospheric Aegis, could block their desperate attacks and push them back. The third spell Touch of Lightning, could dismantle their resistance at the fastest speed... They were just eight ordinary soldiers, not worth mentioning.

But the next moment, his pupils contracted slightly.

These soldiers, who looked like beggars, huddled together, their eyes filled with a mixture of fear and excitement. He saw them almost simultaneously pull something out of their clothes and clutch it tightly.

The spellcaster's astonishing dynamic vision caught his attention at a point in the gap between his fists... a purple glow.

The officer almost instinctively grabbed his deputy, then stared intently at the captain in front of him.

The other person also clenched their right fist.

"You..." he said hoarsely, "You..."

"We don't want this either," the captain replied. "Please don't make the decision for us."

"This is... betrayal," the officer said with difficulty. "This is a foolish act, not only dragging down your families but also putting yourselves in danger—you don't really think Kang De is a kind and benevolent person, do you? You don't really think that surrendering to Distant Harbor will bring you a good life, do you? He'll send you to mine in the mines, to repair the Broken Isles, to toil to death in dark and dreary workshops..."

"I don't know, I didn't see it with my own eyes," the captain said coldly. "But I did see it with my own eyes. Because he deserted, he was tied to Zhuzi and stabbed to death by every soldier in the entire company... Sir, tell me, which of these two good days is better?"

"... That was the company commander's lynching; he's been court-martialed! Nothing like that has happened since!" the officer said firmly. "That's no reason for you to waver!"

"That beast was clearly killed by the Distant Harbor commando team!"

The captain shouted, "I saw it with my own eyes! They appeared out of thin air and disappeared into thin air. The person leading the team was even the 2nd Company Commander of the Ice Thunder Infantry Regiment who went missing a month ago! You said he was poisoned after eating the fried chicken airdropped from the Distant Harbor! But the soldiers of the 2nd Company said he simply vanished into thin air!"

"That's a damn rumor!"

"Say what you will, sir." Facing the agitated officer, the lowly captain remained calm. He said slowly, "I just want to say that if I'm forced to leave tonight, you'd better pray that Prince Kang De is as bad as you describe and throws me into hard labor on the Broken Isles, otherwise..."

He took two steps forward, lowered his voice, and said calmly, "I will come looking for you just like the Second Company Commander did."

The officer's expression was beyond just "ugly".

After saying this, the captain took two steps back, bowed respectfully, then straightened his back, looked at the several noble mages in front of him, smiled, and began to hum a song.

"I don't know when victory will come, nor do I know when I can go home. I don't know the answer; the answer lies with you gentlemen..."

"They all don't know why they came here, and no one knows when they can go home. Only one person knows, only one person knows..."

The singing was awful, and the melody was bizarre. As the captain sang, a strange smile appeared on his face.

"In fact," he stopped singing, his expression meaningful, "We all know, except for one person... is that right, Your Excellency?"

The officers remained silent.

"Therefore, this is my humble suggestion."

The captain sat back down, raised his chin, his clothes were tattered, but he was as proud as a king.

You should always think about yourself.

The night wind howled, the trenches were silent, and a long silence followed.

The officer's words broke the silence.

"Routine inspection, I have a question for you," the monk said coldly. "Have you retrieved any propaganda materials airdropped by the Distant Harbor, including but not limited to posters, brochures, books, and even radios? Headquarters has ordered that such items be collected and destroyed; no unit may keep them privately, or they will be severely punished!"

The soldiers didn't answer, but all looked at the officer with bright smiles.

That means there isn't any left.

The officer's gaze swept over the dilapidated shack, lingered for a moment, then he turned and left.

Those ghostly figures gradually disappeared into the distance.

Inside the shack, the captain, who had been forcing himself to stand, immediately shrank back, patting his chest and saying, "Damn, that scared me to death!"

The soldiers breathed a sigh of relief and crowded around their captain, chattering, "You're amazing! You actually scared those bastards away! Goodness, this is the first time we've seen a mage get the short end of the stick..."

"I never would have thought of such a brilliant phrase; I spent the whole night memorizing it."

The captain pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket.

The title is very long.

How to protect yourself from the purges and persecution by Griffin's henchmen: reason with them, induce fear, establish deterrence, and form a community of shared interests.

This contrasts sharply with the author's name.

--Kang De

One soldier was still worried. "Captain, are you alright? I heard these mages are petty. They've backed down now, but who knows, they might come back to get you later."

The captain shook his head and said, "No, we will be perfectly safe."

Someone gave a wry smile, "Safety..."

The captain's smile was bitter; he loosened his right fist, which was empty.

Seeing this, the others also released their right hands, their dirty palms empty.

Only one of them had a magnificent purple prism lying in his palm, gleaming with an eerie light.

The man deliberately slowed his fist movement slightly before making a clenching motion, allowing the mage to see the purple light.

"Damn it... why is this thing so hard to find?"

The captain instructed the man, "Keep this safe, run if anything happens... Go, get the brochure."

In the night wind, several officers traveled in silence.

After they had walked a distance, the adjutant said, "Sir, they're just a few lowly soldiers. Tonight, we can arrange to capture them before they have a chance to escape. That would be a great achievement. They were disrespectful to you; they must be punished... What vulgar and hateful fellows."

Before the officer could speak, footsteps sounded ahead, and from a nearby shack, a voice called out, "Your Excellency? Your Excellency? Respected Master!"

The three men turned around, and a soldier waded through the muddy puddles.

"Excuse me," he said with a humble smile, tinged with subservience and ingratiation, "What just happened?"

The officers' eyes were fixed on the other man's right fist.

Hold tightly.

The trench was silent, with only flickering firelight and countless eyes peering out from the Shadow.

"No, nothing." The officer replied to the soldier who had spoken up, as if reporting the mission results to his superior. "Everything was normal tonight, nothing happened."

"That's good, that's good." The soldier saluted respectfully and smiled. "Sir, you are such a kind-hearted officer; you must think of yourself. Best wishes, kind sir."

He humbly withdrew, while the three officers stood silently in the quiet trench.

"As you see, as we move forward, many soldiers will come to ask if anything has happened to us, and they will wish us well, urging us to think about ourselves."

The officer said coldly, "Everyone knows we went to that shack. Once those soldiers are arrested or killed, what do you think the soldiers in this trench will do?"

Do you think it's just this trench?

The adjutant remained silent, his gaze piercing through the night sky to the hazy outlines in the distance, where thousands upon thousands of lives resided amidst the ugly scars of the earth.

On the surface, the stalemate lasted for months, with the Council even occasionally achieving victories. However, behind the dazzling reports of triumphs lay devastating casualties, waning morale, and a growing sense of unease among the troops—a terrible form of corruption, just as we witnessed tonight.

Kang De, the enemy in this great war, the Cathayan from a foreign land, were like the most terrifying behemoth, occupying the entire night sky, casting Shadow, weaving a net, and infiltrating layer by layer.

He did not merely destroy the enemy's body.

We must also corrupt the enemy's will, shake their spirit, and destroy their honor.

The adjutant suddenly shivered.

The night was deep, and shouts could be heard in the distance.

"Here we have braised pork with glass noodles..."

"Welcome to lay down your weapons and have a meal..."

"Kang De," the adjutant asked, bewildered, "What exactly does he want to do?"

"What I really want to know is..." the officer said softly, "What exactly is the Grand Speaker thinking?"

In the same shack, by the firelight, the soldiers listened intently as their literate captain struggled to read from the pamphlet, "The first thing we need to figure out is, who is our enemy? As soldiers, what are we fighting for?"

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PS1: I should be all better... Anyway, the doctor said during the checkup that I'm recovering well and can try to resume exercising and work. So I'm starting to write again, then I have to move, get a tooth pulled, and a lot of other things. Damn, they even posted a ban on my blog, unbelievable. Anyway, I'm back.

PS2: I've been thinking about composing this song for a long time, and I was just bored.