Twenty paces.
The Carnford Army continued advancing. More and more soldiers were falling, and the replacements seemed unable to keep up, yet the main framework of the formation still held stubbornly together.
"Bang! Bang bang bang!"
Another ragged but extremely close volley thundered from Sauron's line! The distance was now so close they could practically make out one another's faces, and the hit rate of this round surged sharply.
"Pfft pfft pfft...!"
"Ah—!"
"Hold steady! No stopping!"
Amid the clattering gunfire, the soldiers in the foremost rank of the Carnford Army seemed to be struck all at once by invisible sledgehammers. At such close range, the lead balls were devastating, effortlessly tearing through wool uniforms and boring into flesh. Bones cracked, bullets sank into meat, and soldiers' dying screams erupted in an instant. Peter's company was not spared either.
"Clang!" A crisp, deafening crash, like a sledgehammer striking an anvil, exploded extremely close to Peter's right ear!
"Urgh—!!" An agonized shriek Peter knew all too well, now filled with unbearable pain, rang out beside him almost at the same time.
Peter felt several drops of warm, sticky liquid splash across his cheek. Carrying that familiar fishy sweetness, they made his whole body stiffen. He whipped his head around.
Mark—the best friend he had made after joining the army, the one he ate and slept beside, supported each other with during training, and told everything to—the one who always wore that honest smile and said he would return home to marry his childhood sweetheart once the war was over—was now facedown, sprawled heavily in a twisted posture in the muddy pool of blood not far from Peter's feet.
On the young man's back, near his left shoulder blade, a ghastly bloody hole was steadily gushing blood and shredded flesh. His dark