In a battle on the scale of millions, the Howling Commandos' strength counted for nothing and could change nothing. Just as Alex had said, they had come merely to put on a show. In the end, they only made themselves miserable. It was pure self-inflicted suffering, especially when they saw the river of scarlet blood pooling along the tidal flats. The stench of blood rising into the sky was enough to make anyone vomit themselves to death.
Quicksilver was still just a young man, and he was the first to crack. There was not a trace of color in his face, and even his eyes had begun to roll slightly white.
"Can you hold on?" Alex supported Quicksilver with one hand while keeping his body tucked inside the landing craft. "If not, should I take you back?"
Quicksilver opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but before any words came out, a mouthful of filth spewed forth instead.
Without another word, Alex hoisted Quicksilver onto his shoulder and vanished. Moments later, he returned. Watching the soldiers charge ahead, his gaze passed over rows of trenches and settled on the bunker at the end of the tidal flats—the chief culprit behind the enormous losses during the landing.
Unable to change the entire course of the battle, Alex wanted to change the outcome on this stretch of beach.
With a flicker, Alex vanished from the landing craft again. In the span of a breath, the heavy machine guns that had been relentlessly taking Allied soldiers' lives fell silent. The exhilarated Allied soldiers ran for their lives with every ounce of strength they had.
The war continued, and the Howling Commandos did their part as well.
When everything finally fell silent, countless corpses lay along Normandy's long coastline, both Allied