The abrupt cry for help went unanswered, echoing through the deserted logistics area and medical station, where only a handful of figures stood.
The Black-armored guards quickly spotted Lin Yu’s infantry uniform, immediately sparking their suspicion regarding her presence in such a place.
“Why aren’t you on the front lines? What are you doing here?”
“What else could I be doing?” Lin Yu retorted, her voice sharp. “You left them here to die! If I hadn’t been diligently caring for them, this entire tent would be filled with lifeless bodies!”
After exhausting herself, frantically administering several potions, she had only just managed to save four of the less critically wounded soldiers. Yet, this Black-armored guard, who had been cowering in the rear, doing absolutely nothing, now had the gall to demand what she was doing, even attempting to pilfer their food!
It was utterly infuriating; they exhibited not an ounce of self-awareness regarding their role as the old army’s ruthless enforcers and executioners.
“Caring for the wounded? You… are you a medic?”
“What else?” she snapped. “Who but a medic possesses the skill to snatch them back from the jaws of death, one by one? Now move! This food is for the wounded!”
Confronting these grim reapers of the supervision squad, any fear she might have harbored transmuted into an unyielding resolve to protect the wounded. Lin Yu stood defiantly before them, demanding they cease meddling with her pot of simple salted potato stew and vacate the premises at once.
Perhaps Lin Yu’s youthful appearance offered little intimidation, or perhaps their arrogance, stemming from their status as Black-armored guards, blinded them; the soldier crouched before the pot made no move to rise.
“The medics have long since retreated,” the soldier drawled, “leaving only combat personnel behind. Furthermore, you’re sporting a ‘Heroic Combat’ medal on your chest, an award which, to my knowledge, is rarely bestowed upon medics assigned to rear-line duties.”
The man offered Lin Yu not an ounce of civility. “Before you speak so carelessly,” he sneered, “you’d be wise to consider whether your fabricated claims will be so easily exposed.”
At a sharp whistle, four more members of the supervision squad abandoned their tasks, converging around Lin Yu from all directions. With the man still squatting before her, she now found herself completely surrounded by five individuals.
The stares radiating from all sides bore little resemblance to anything benevolent.
“You… you all…” Lin Yu stammered, dropping the small game she had caught. She instinctively reached behind her for her rifle, only to discover, with a pang of despair, that her weapon lay discarded on the ground behind one of the supervision squad members.
The thrill of shooting down a bird, promising an extra meal, had been so exhilarating that she had neglected to sling her rifle back over her shoulder, instead rushing to retrieve the carcass. Now, she stood utterly unarmed.
Oh, a bayonet still hung sheathed at her waist, ready to be drawn in a critical moment. Yet, it was patently obvious that it would be no match for their collective five rifles.
“Refusing to obey superior orders, fearing death, evading combat…” one of them mused, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. “When you consider those two charges, misappropriating supplies seems utterly trivial, wouldn’t you agree, little girl?”
The Black-armored guard’s final phrase, “little girl,” successfully sent a chill down Lin Yu’s spine.
Attempting to view the entire situation from an objective, bystander’s perspective, she quickly realized just how ominous her predicament truly was.
Surrounded by the supervision squad, who wielded the absolute power of life and death, she understood that the decision to summarily execute her rested entirely in their hands.
“You… what are you going to do…”
A shrill alarm blared in Lin Yu’s mind, and her left hand instinctively drifted to her waist, clutching at the only solace she possessed in that terrifying moment.
“Old Wang, didn’t you say you liked them young? How about this one?”
“She’s too young, though, hasn’t even developed. Look, her chest is as flat as a washboard.”
“Then maybe we should just take her out and shoot her.”
“Wouldn’t that be a waste? Her face is quite pretty.”
Lewd jokes began to flow freely from their mouths, yet Lin Yu, in that harrowing moment, felt no shame, only an overwhelming and profound despair.
‘Why did I step out? Wouldn’t it have been better to just keep hiding?’
‘Or was I naive enough to think these people were actually good? That they would listen to reason and spare her and the wounded?’
‘I was far too presumptive.’
It wasn’t truly her fault, for ever since she had been forcibly conscripted by a platoon leader on the military train, every person Lin Yu had encountered had been, by and large, decent.
There was the unnamed Lanforthian soldier in the shell crater who had spared her life, Lieutenant Xia who had allowed her to seek medics in the rear, and, of course, Nangong and her seniors who had consistently offered her support and care.
Then there was Commander Yang himself, whose initial approach might have been flawed but ultimately yielded good results, and Yang Xi, who, despite his utter idiocy, would invariably rescue her at crucial moments, if only for the Emperor’s sake.
Truly, there were very few individuals she could thoroughly despise: the quartermaster who had falsely accused her of being a spy, the interrogator who had once beaten her, and perhaps, at a stretch, the Lanforthians currently at war with Diacla.
She didn’t even harbor a deep hatred for the Lanforthians. ‘If not for this damned war,’ she mused, ‘who would willingly risk their life on a battlefield simply to kill an enemy?’
The myriad experiences of the past two months had forged a peculiar worldview within her, one that could be encapsulated by a line from a film in her past life: ‘They were all good people, just like me, merely trapped in their uniforms.’
Whether foe or comrade, no one genuinely yearned for this senseless slaughter. Without the shadow of war, perhaps those Lanforthians could even have become friends with the soldiers in her own army.
She had, however, overlooked one crucial truth: it was utterly impossible for everyone in the world to be good, for if it were so, countless tragedies would never have unfolded. The supervision squad members before her were undeniably a prime example of such scum and degenerates, perfectly validating the popular adage: ‘When you have two hundred million Diacla people, if a few scoundrels don’t emerge, do you still believe this is heaven?’
The battlefield beyond the mountains was no earthly paradise.
The banks of the Mang River were, in truth, a living hell.
Lin Yu swiftly drew her bayonet, holding it tremulously before her, desperately attempting to maintain a safe distance. “I’m warning you,” she threatened, “don’t try anything reckless…”
The diminutive medic, teetering on the precipice of hell, silently tightened her grip on her sole weapon—a three-inch rifle bayonet—offering a resistance that was, at least, better than none.
“What ‘reckless’?” one of them scoffed. “You’re the reckless one, disobeying superior orders, hiding in this place, cooking for yourself, and then attempting to use ‘treating the wounded’ as an excuse…”
“Unless you pay a small price, you’ll never realize your mistake,” the Black-armored guard drawled, finally rising from his crouch by the pot and advancing towards her. “Or perhaps,” he added, a menacing glint in his eye, “you’d prefer the taste of a bullet?”
A wicked hand reached for her innocent cheek, but her expression hardened, and she swiftly raised her own hand to bat it away.
“Oh, small in stature, but big in temper.”
Lin Yu’s face darkened, and she tightened her grip on the bayonet, her teeth gritted as she spat, “So you see… people like you… are utterly disgusting.”
“You’re nothing but rats from a gutter,” she continued, her voice laced with venom, “forever unable to gaze upon the sun’s glory, beings that deserve immediate eradication.”
They merely dismissed Lin Yu’s defiant words as useless bravado. They simply could not conceive of what resistance a mere teenage girl, armed only with a bayonet and lacking any grenades, could possibly mount against several grown men.
Just as they had done to countless girls in the mountain country, they decided to inflict their depravity upon their own compatriot.
Lin Yu would absolutely not allow such a thing to transpire. With a soft incantation, she completely drained every last vestige of magic remaining from her previous healing efforts.
Noticing the magic circle illuminating around Lin Yu, the supervision squad members visibly faltered for a brief moment. Yet, as soon as they realized Lin Yu was merely casting a healing spell, their momentary panic dissolved into mocking laughter.
They erupted into raucous laughter, their voices grating harshly in Lin Yu’s ears. “What are you doing? Preparing to heal your own lacerations?”
Lin Yu forced herself to calm, explaining to them with an unnerving tranquility, “As you can plainly see, this is a healing spell, and I am a medic. With such undeniable proof laid before you, surely you now believe what I told you earlier?”
Yet the man before her remained unrepentant. “So what?” he sneered. “Do you truly believe you can withstand all five of us simultaneously? Face reality now, and cooperate willingly; we promise not to hurt you too badly. But if you cling to your stubborn delusion, you might find yourself on the receiving end of a beating, or perhaps even a bullet.”
Only once she was certain of their utter lack of remorse did Lin Yu finally resolve to unleash her attack. “Then don’t blame me for being ruthless,” she declared.
The coalesced healing magic formed a verdant arrow, which shot straight into the brow of the man directly before her.
There was no violent penetration of the skull, no gruesome splatter of blood or brains; instead, a soft green mist diffused outwards, gently encasing his head like a verdant cap.
A few seconds later, the man’s legs instantly buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, falling silent immediately.
“You… what kind of sorcery did you use!”
The remaining four supervision squad members, who had been encircling her, frantically unslung their rifles from their backs. Yet, before they could even aim, four more healing arrows found their marks in their brows, plunging them all into the deepest, most profound sleep.
“Hmph… it’s… it’s all used up again…”
Her magic had, for the very first time, proven useful in a combat situation, and Lin Yu felt a flicker of grim satisfaction. Yet, the realization that her adversaries were comrades who ought to have fought beside her brought with it a profound sense of melancholy.
‘Good thing I drank half an extra potion at the end.’
The medic, having cleverly employed her magic to safeguard her dignity, finally exhaled a long breath. After nudging them with her foot to ascertain they wouldn’t be stirring anytime soon, she settled back beside the iron pot, stirring the salted potato soup with a small twig.
Just then, another black-clad figure emerged from the tent. “Brother Wang,” he called out, “there are still four wounded inside who aren’t… Brother Wang? What in the world happened to you all?”
Lin Yu, who had been squatting by the pot with her back to the tent, slowly turned to look behind her. The sixth Black-armored guard had already raised his rifle, its metallic barrel gleaming menacingly under the slanting rays of the setting sun.
****