This is a new post. I hope it doesn't get taken down.
After a night of fighting, the battle in Wata City finally began to die down as dawn broke.
Time passed. No one knew how long it had been when, in the southwest of Wata City, a scarred hand reached out from beneath a pile of collapsed rubble. A moment later, a figure struggled to crawl free.
After crawling out, Zhou Ning felt groggy, and a sharp pain throbbed in his abdomen.
Frowning, he began to recall what had happened yesterday.
They had been ambushed. Although his unusual instinct for danger had put them on guard, the enemy had still been hidden while they were out in the open.
On top of that, it had been night. When the two sides first clashed, they had suffered a minor setback.
Once they organized a counterattack, the enemy had been no match for them and could only retreat step by step, using the city's layout to keep them at bay.
Then he had accidentally triggered one of the enemy's traps. He had reacted immediately and tried to dodge, but he was still caught in the blast. The world went black, and he passed out.
Zhou Ning looked down at his abdomen. His shirt was dark red, and the blood had already dried.
A sharp shard of metal was still embedded in his stomach.
Clutching the wound, Zhou Ning slowly got to his feet and forced himself to leave the rubble.
At last, he found a spot, braced himself against a wall, and slowly lowered himself to the ground.
The movement tugged at his abdominal wound, leaving him drenched in sweat from the pain.
"Rip!"
He tore open his shirt and examined the mangled wound. It had already started to fester, and it was filthy. It was probably infected by now.
He had no idea how long he'd been unconscious. The fact that he'd woken up at all meant he wasn't supposed to die yet.
Even so, if he didn't treat the wound and stop it from getting worse, he'd be meeting the King of Hell before long.
So, he had no choice but to treat himself.
"Hss..."
He tore off some of his shirt, rolled it into a wad, and stuffed it into his mouth. Then Zhou Ning gripped the shard in his abdomen and pulled it out bit by bit. The pain was so intense he wanted to pass out again.
The instant the shard came free, blood and pus spurted from the wound.
He quickly pulled the wad of cloth from his mouth and bandaged himself.
When he was done, he collapsed onto the ground, completely drained and unwilling to move.
He lay still, looking up at the blazing sun and the black smoke drifting through the sky.
Ten minutes later.
After resting and regaining some strength, Zhou Ning climbed to his feet. He glanced at the smoke-filled city around him and slowly headed out. He had to find his unit.
He didn't know what had happened to his comrades, but he had to see them alive—or find their bodies.
He picked up a stick to use as a crutch and made his way out, step by step. Bodies lay scattered throughout the city. Thankfully, he hadn't seen any of his comrades among them.
That meant they had won yesterday's battle. Only a victory would have given them time to bury their dead; the enemy wouldn't have been so kind as to do it for them.
Then he spotted a severed arm in the rubble. It bore the distinctive cloud pattern of the Yanhuang Empire's uniform.
Zhou Ning hurried over and picked it up. He recognized it at once as the arm of one of his soldiers.
He looked down at the rubble and began digging frantically. Blood started seeping from his abdominal wound.
A few minutes later, he found the man buried beneath the rubble. His familiar face had been dead for quite some time.
Zhou Ning dug him out and carried him on his back, intending to find a place to bury him properly and set up a grave marker.
He knew that in his current condition, doing so was practically suicide, but he still wanted to do it. He didn't want one of his soldiers to die without even a proper grave.
When he reached the outskirts of the city, he saw a row of crude earthen graves.
In front of them stood wooden markers, each carved with a name. As Zhou Ning read them, he felt his heart tremble.
An hour later, after burying the man he had carried on his back, Zhou Ning was about to leave when he heard the sounds of fighting in the distance.
He froze.
Then he hurried toward the sound.
He still didn't know what was happening over there, but he had to go. The people fighting might be his comrades.
It wasn't likely, but he couldn't give up hope.
When he arrived, he spotted the battle from afar. They weren't the people he had been looking for, but judging by their uniforms, they were on his side.
The Alliance's Third Zone Garrison.
At that moment, staff members hurried about the garrison headquarters, looking extremely busy.
Every so often, angry shouts rang out from inside the rooms.
Lorjio Imwe, the highest-ranking commander in the area, angrily hung up the phone. He was practically beside himself with rage.
He hadn't expected the logistics department to run into trouble at such a critical moment. It was unbelievable.
Now supplies couldn't be transported from the rear. When Lorjio Imwe found out, he was so furious he wanted to go there himself and chop those noble lords to pieces.
Those people were utterly useless and good for nothing but causing trouble.
They were doing nothing but dragging everyone down.
Watching the furious Lorjio Imwe, his deputy couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow. A sense of despair rose in his heart.
The Alliance was already at a disadvantage, and now its own people were holding them back. What was the point of fighting for their lives out here?
Was it all just to protect those noble lords in the rear?
The more he thought about it, the more lost he felt.
"Those nobles don't care about us at all. It's bad enough that they've been holding us back all this time, but now, at such a critical moment, they're still—"
"Exactly. Without supplies, how are we supposed to keep fighting? Are we supposed to fight with our bare fists?
"And without food, we can't exactly fight the enemy on empty stomachs."
"Those bastards spend all their time eating, drinking, and having fun in the rear, and now they're dragging us down too. I'd love to kill every last one of them."
"What are we supposed to do now? Without more supplies, we won't last long.
"And the counteroffensive has already been set in motion. One change will affect everything.
"If something goes wrong on our end and ruins the counteroffensive, we'll be nailed to the wall of shame."
This plotline will be over soon. It's too easy to run into prohibited content.
Before you continue