Dispirited and weary, Lin Yu spent the first half of the night on guard with her rifle, only to slump over the sandbags and sleep through the latter half.
From the rear trenches, a flare arced into the sky every few minutes, illuminating the no-man’s-land and granting the frontline defenders a clearer view, a necessary precaution against a Lanforthian night assault.
The outcome, however, defied their expectations; as the entire night passed, the anticipated Lanforthian offensive never materialized.
Only after the sun had risen did the Staff Sergeant finally order the task force members to stand down from their vigil, allowing them to rest in rotating shifts.
She was roused by the sunlight warming her face, a crimson mark still imprinted on her cheek from hours of pressing against her rifle stock. Sleeping while standing had left Lin Yu’s entire body aching intensely.
Just as she was about to grumble a few complaints and retreat to her bed, a matter of far greater urgency suddenly struck her. Hastily, she flung open the canvas curtain and dashed out of the dugout.
“Staff Sergeant! May I return to the logistics area immediately!”
Casting aside her fatigue and exhaustion, she quickly located her superior amidst a throng of uniformed soldiers, immediately submitting her request to return to the rear.
She had to ascertain the condition of Nangong and her seniors at once, and provide medical aid to the wounded in the logistics area. Should they all have met with misfortune, Lin Yu would be the sole hope for those injured in the shelling.
She should have returned as soon as the shelling ceased last night, for that was when the casualties would have been most numerous. Yet, she had not dared to defy the Staff Sergeant’s orders.
Most of the wounded by now had likely perished for various reasons. Nevertheless, she had to go back; treating the injured was merely a pretext.
“The logistics area has been shelled; this is when medics are most needed. I request to return now to assist with treatment.”
“No, you must remain here. The Lanforthian army could launch an artillery strike against the front-line trenches at any moment, and you will be needed to treat the casualties here.”
“Treating the existing casualties is a more immediate priority than preventing potential future ones,” Lin Yu declared, her voice ringing with a courage she had never before displayed in openly defying her superior. “If I don’t go back and the logistics personnel suffer heavy casualties, who will deliver our ammunition and provide our meals?”
Worried for her dearest friends in the logistics area, she would do everything in her power to return quickly, even resorting to deception or threats.
“Soldiers cannot fight on empty stomachs. If the logistics area isn’t functional again immediately, our already fragile defenses will become even more vulnerable.”
“…Very well, you may return to the rear. If you need assistance…”
“I won’t.”
She turned and left without another word, pushing through the throng, traversing the trenches, and passing the bunker that stood sentinel over the position.
‘So tired, so sleepy, I just want to go back to sleep.’
‘But everyone’s fate is uncertain. How could I possibly sleep in such a situation?’
On her way back, some people greeted her. Though her uniform had changed, this time she wasn’t wearing her steel helmet, enabling those who passed to recognize her face as that of the “angel.”
Yet at this moment, her face bore a grim expression, one that might belong to a demon.
As she hurried along, her mind was lost in a flurry of past memories.
“Looking at you, you must have gone hungry often, haven’t you? If you become a medic, you’ll have meat to eat every day, you know.”
“If one day you see a man you fancy on a sickbed, and you can’t save him with just scalpels and sutures, you’ll surely be heartbroken and regretful to the point of madness, won’t you?”
She recalled Nangong’s words when she invited her to become a medic, and the reason Nangong had taught her healing magic. Though only a month had passed, it felt as distant as a century of separation.
‘If only it were possible, please don’t let war take away anything else important to me…’
Lin Yu could not lose Nangong, just as the Lanforthians could not lose their colonies, just as His Majesty the Emperor could not lose his subjects, and just as a fish could not lose water.
The seniors were no different. Two months of living side-by-side had forged them into true, intimate friends. Even if some resentment had arisen due to Commander Yang’s actions, that resentment was directed solely at Commander Yang, not at them.
Her hopes quickened her pace, her anxieties fueling her drive. Lin Yu almost sprinted the entire way, back to the place she knew best: the medical tent.
But she was met with crushing disappointment.
“Wh-why…”
There was no shadow of a tent in sight, only a massive crater, around whose rim lay remnants that had not completely burned away.
It was just like the countless shell craters she had witnessed on her journey here, like the scars embedded in the no-man’s-land between the trenches. Nothing special, merely an ordinary crater, its size perfectly standard, matching the Lanforthian army’s shell caliber and explosive charge.
A place that had once housed skilled and capable medics, a place that had held her cherished memories with Nangong, now contained nothing but a shell crater.
All the tables, chairs, beds, and cabinets, all the books and medicines, had vanished in the blaze of the explosion.
She hadn’t even been there for her last moments, returning to the scene of widespread devastation only a dozen hours after everything had ended.
“Why…”
Lin Yu sank down in agony, dropping to her knees before the ruins of the medical tent. Her rifle, butt resting on the ground, slid to one side from her back. Tears blurred her vision, her eyes brimming with the light of unshed tears.
Nangong, too, had vanished in the blaze of the explosion, just as she had in her previous life.
Another reason that had driven her to become a medic faintly echoed in her ears: “After all, medics don’t have to fight on the front lines; they just need to treat the sick and save people in the tents at the rear.”
Nangong had broken her promise. And so had she.
‘…No, there’s still hope.’
‘Nangong might not have been in the tent. Before they parted yesterday, Nangong had mentioned going to dinner with the seniors. It was possible she wasn’t in the medical tent when the shelling occurred.’
Shaking her head, Lin Yu struggled to suppress the urge to cry, forcing herself to keep moving.
The entire logistics area was almost completely destroyed. The density of the shelling had been comparable to that aimed at the trenches; not a single intact building remained standing.
Incomplete corpses were visible everywhere, either leaning against shattered walls or lying sprawled on the ground. Others, with no obvious external injuries, lay haphazardly, blood seeping from the corners of their mouths, clearly killed by the concussive force.
These non-combat personnel in the logistics area had never received training on how to evade shelling; thus, when faced with artillery fire, they were unable to protect themselves in the most effective manner. They fled haphazardly throughout the logistics area and died just as haphazardly, strewn across the ground.
“So, this is war?”
Forcing back her tears, she looked up, gazing towards Commander Yang’s residence. The small building had not been spared either, reduced to an unrecognizable pile of rubble.
Having witnessed so much death over the past two months, she had believed herself immune, only now realizing that the deaths of strangers and the deaths of acquaintances were entirely different matters. Her previous experiences had been too easy. Now, confronted with the reality of her loved ones’ demise, an abyss of boundless agony threatened to swallow her whole.
Moreover, she hadn’t even seen Nangong one last time.
For a trivial emotional dispute, she had skipped their last gathering, leaving her to live on in this world all alone.
Only a handful of people had ever been able to interact with her as both a mentor and a close friend. Now, she understood the feeling Lieutenant Xia had experienced when he lost his “Mr. Lu.” Only she remained, with no one else.
Knowing the pain of death, she had vowed never to let it run rampant again; knowing the pain of separation, she had vowed never to let it repeat. Yet she could not. Death continued to appear, separation continued to unfold, and the war that caused it all continued to rage.
She had utterly failed to save the wounded with her hands or stop the war with her songs. One by one, the injured who left the operating table died due to unforeseen circumstances, and her wishful “Surrounded by the Song of Chu” operation (TL Note: A Chinese idiom referring to being besieged on all sides by the enemy, typically with music or song, leading to demoralization) had no effect whatsoever.
What remained of the future Lin Yu had envisioned when she accepted that bowl of leftovers?
Suddenly, she kicked a metal box, lowering her head in a daze to examine it; the style seemed familiar.
She unlatched it to find several round, pill-like… candies inside.
Lin Yu looked up again, realizing she had returned to the ruins of the medical tent.
This was a gift Commander Yang had given her long ago: a box of candies from Pingyuan City, the capital beyond the mountains. She hadn’t eaten much of it at the time, later forgetting its existence, and it had been tucked away with miscellaneous items, unnoticed.
Consequently, she hadn’t taken it with her on the day she moved her belongings to the front lines.
She reached out, picked up another piece, and with trembling hands, placed it in her mouth. The blossoming sweetness evoked distant memories.
The image of Nangong suddenly ducking into the tent that day, pulling out this metal box from behind her back, reappeared before Lin Yu’s eyes. Nangong had leaned close and whispered something, but Lin Yu couldn’t hear a single word.
So sweet, yet not sweet at all.
“Woof, woof—”
A sudden bark made her abruptly turn her head. A patch of earthy yellow appeared in her vision—the small local dog that was to be dinner yesterday, now wagging its tail in greeting.
“…Only you survived, little one.”
It had forgotten its grudge from yesterday when Lin Yu had flicked its forehead, greeting Lin Yu’s return with welcoming barks, yipping softly as it nudged her leg and licked her boots.
Lin Yu gently stroked its forehead, brushing away the dust from its fur, then stood up, gazing out towards the smoke-filled rear.
‘Run away.’
‘With the logistics area in such chaos, the disciplinary squad is long gone. I should leave now, return to the mountain village, go home. Two months of military pay would be enough for my family to improve their lives, at least they wouldn’t starve this winter.’
‘Then I’d find work in the city, whether as a doctor, a healer, or even an apprentice doing odd jobs.’
‘I shouldn’t stay in this place any longer. I shouldn’t let war take away anything else important to me.’
‘The train here took less than an hour; calculating by its speed, this place is less than a hundred kilometers from my home. For a fifteen-year-old girl, it’s an incredibly long distance, but for a soul saddened to death, it’s a long, chosen path home.’
‘I’ll walk back along the railway tracks, back to my old life. I don’t want to witness shells tearing lives into fragments anymore, I don’t want to witness the life-and-death separations of dear friends anymore.’
But she couldn’t bring herself to move.
Not just because of the long road, but also because… she still cared for someone.
Just two or three of them.
Even if she didn’t care for those few individuals, as a medic, she bore the lives of hundreds of people in the trenches; she couldn’t simply walk away.
The deceased were gone; Lin Yu had to turn her thoughts to the living.
Untying the collar around the small dog’s neck, Lin Yu gave its backside a firm slap. It yelped a few times and immediately ran off, displeased by Lin Yu’s sudden violence.
“Go on, go home. Go find your original owner.”
The small dog stopped a dozen meters away, looking back every few steps, reluctant to leave.
“Don’t look at me like that. Do you want to go to the front lines with me too?”
The small dog remained silent, merely staring at her.
Ah, it couldn’t speak anyway, could it?
She walked over and gently kicked it again, and only then did it run towards the smoke in the rear without looking back.
Only Lin Yu remained alone, turning with her rifle on her back, swaying as she walked towards the trenches, still clutching the box of candies.
****
“Why are you back so soon?” The Staff Sergeant looked at Lin Yu’s return with surprise. “Were all those wounded treated so quickly?”
“No need to treat them, they’re all dead.”
“Wh-what…”
“Staff Sergeant, the current priority is how to maintain this front line. The Lanforthians’ shelling of the logistics area last night demonstrated their extraordinary heavy artillery range, which will significantly impact our subsequent defensive tasks.”
“…”
“Furthermore, from what I’ve seen, our artillery unit has been completely wiped out and cannot provide artillery cover for the offensive planned for tonight.”
The drastic difference in Lin Yu’s speaking style before and after her departure left him somewhat at a loss. “That is not an issue for us to consider.”
Hearing his words, she immediately changed the subject, beginning to discuss “matters that needed consideration.” “So, during the time I was away, have there been any casualties on the front line?”
“None for now.”
“In that case, I’ll return to my post.”
Once again squeezing through the crowd, still not returning their enthusiastic greetings, Lin Yu walked with her head down back to the dugout where she had been stationed for days.
It was no different from when she had left; half of the on-duty personnel were lying on blankets, already asleep. That idiot was also lying on the ground, clutching his rifle tightly.
Later, she could ask Lieutenant Xia about the upcoming plans, as Commander Yang’s fate was unknown, and who would take over as the overall commander of the position.
And… given the devastating damage, should they still proceed with the planned offensive, and do the logistics personnel even have the capacity to support an offensive?
Flipping open the canvas curtain, she placed the candies back on her bedside table. Lin Yu simply wiped off the mud that had been tracked onto her bedding throughout the night. After cleaning the bed, she peered out through the firing port; there was no movement in the no-man’s-land.
It seemed they didn’t intend to launch an attack during the day, giving them the entire day to prepare.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she took off her rifle from her back, pulled back the bolt, and checked the ammunition inside. Still three rounds; in all her days on the front line, she still hadn’t had a chance to use her rifle.
She might have had one last night, but the Lanforthians hadn’t attacked.
Pushing the bolt back into place, Lin Yu picked up the equipment she had piled at the foot of her bed last night, putting each piece back on.
As for the steel helmet… Commander Yang’s residence was a ruin, making it highly unrealistic to find a steel helmet there, so Lin Yu hadn’t gone back to look for one.
Going into battle without a steel helmet was extremely dangerous; she needed to find an opportunity to acquire one.
Lin Yu, almost fully equipped, prepared to leave the dugout again, taking a final glance inside before she went.
It was utterly lifeless.
Good, only the living could be “lifeless”; the dead were already gone. To still be alive on such a dangerous front line was truly for the best.
…By the way, why did they all suddenly open their eyes at the same time?
The answer was shouted by them in unison the very next second: “Artillery!”
The quiet position instantly erupted into chaos. This time, the Lanforthians finally decided to deliver their shells to the correct location.
Experiencing artillery shells landing around her again after two months, Lin Yu felt a strange sense of relief.
Immediately rolling to her side and sprawling on the ground, she thrashed twice, using her hands and feet to slightly prop up her body, shrinking herself to the smallest possible volume, minimizing the parts of her body exposed to shrapnel.
She especially protected her head; without a steel helmet, she couldn’t even defend against shrapnel, only hoping her skull would win against armor-piercing rounds.
After taking protective measures, she began to hurl curses at the Lanforthian artillery in the distance:
‘Come on, bomb away, unleash your shells upon our position. Once you’re done shelling, it’ll be time for the infantry charge, right?’
Facing the foreign devils who had murdered Nangong, murdered her seniors, murdered Commander Yang, and murdered so many non-combatants—
Lin Yu had previously always referred to the enemy as “Lanforthians,” rather than the more common military term “devils.” This was because she had always believed that most of them, like her, were on this battlefield due to circumstance or out of necessity, not by choice.
They hadn’t committed atrocities against the people of Diacla, so they shouldn’t be called “devils.” As for those beyond the mountains… Lin Yu wasn’t from beyond the mountains, so even if they preyed on the common folk there, it should be the people from beyond the mountains who called them devils.
But now, they had committed a crime, a crime that only death could repay.
She would answer with bullets and bayonets.
Perhaps in response to her fervent wish, or perhaps because the passive skill “always only gets injured” of the idiot also cowering in the dugout had been triggered, several kilometers away at the Lanforthian artillery position, a shell was loaded into the breech.
A magic stone of the same caliber as the shell was placed into another slot. The artillerymen quickly closed the breech, collectively pushed the cannon into the firing position, and fine-tuned the firing parameters according to the firing table.
A breathtaking blue light erupted as the white-striped shell flew out. Explosive alchemical materials churned within the shell, a faint glimmer of magic power flickered on its surface, and it spun rapidly as it hurtled northwest.
It plunged directly into the top of Lin Yu’s dugout, burrowing straight into the earth, successfully detonating and blasting open a shower of dirt and sparks.
It also completely collapsed the log supports holding up the earth.
Soil cascaded like an avalanche, burying everyone.