“It seems we’ve been discovered.”
“…Let’s go. We’re heading back.”
Having only just departed from that desolate stretch, they were now compelled to retrace their steps, tasked with safeguarding the planted explosives from detection and disarmament by the Lanforthians.
‘I knew it,’ Lin Yu thought. ‘No mission is ever that straightforward.’
The team had long braced themselves for their cover being blown, never truly expecting to escape unscathed; achieving zero casualties thus far was already a remarkable feat.
After a brief, swift discussion that deliberately excluded Lin Yu, they decided to return to the bridge immediately, hoping to prevent the Lanforthians from dismantling the demolition charges.
“Platoon Leader, this is now in your hands.”
Whether it was a jest or a formal address, the demolition expert who, mere minutes ago, had playfully threatened her with ‘It’s going to explode!’, now extended the detonator towards her.
“You must protect it well, lest our combined efforts be ruined by those Lanforthian devils.”
“…What is this for?”
He offered no reply to Lin Yu’s question, instead launching into a unilateral explanation of the detonator’s operation. “This is the safety. And this, the trigger. Flip the safety off like this, then press the trigger, and it will detonate.”
Lin Yu met his gaze for a moment, then turned towards the captain, who was burdened with communication equipment. He, too, had removed the portable radio-like device from his back and was slowly approaching her.
“This device is already tuned to Commander Mo’s channel; remember to report any situation to him directly. It’s currently in listening mode. To speak, flick this switch, and remember to flick it back afterward, or you won’t hear their reply.”
“…Are you… leaving me here?”
Suddenly entrusting her with such vital equipment, while the others meticulously checked their ammunition, strongly suggested they were preparing for battle.
‘Because I didn’t bring a gun, they’re just going to leave me here and run off to their deaths? These scoundrels are too cunning.’
The man, however, took great offense at her suggestion of being ‘left behind.’ “How could you say ‘leaving you here’? I’ve entrusted you with a most crucial mission. Protect the detonator and the communication device, and absolutely do not let them fall into Lanforthian hands.”
“And, should the counterattack fail, remember to constantly monitor the communication channel for Commander Mo’s orders. He will give the command to detonate, and you simply follow the steps you just learned…”
A lengthy series of instructions poured from the squad leader’s lips, washing over her ears like a chant. The remaining twelve men meticulously organized their gear, individually loading each round into their Lanforthian rifle magazines, their bayonets already fixed.
The squad leader’s extensive speech could, in essence, be distilled into a single sentence: ‘You are our army’s last hope.’
The counterattack required the bridge’s demolition as its ultimate failsafe, and that demolition, in turn, depended on her personally pressing the device as its final guarantee.
If the Battle of Mang River were lost, the Diaclan front line would undoubtedly collapse. Given the heavy casualties from previous assaults, a collapse at the front might trigger unrest in the rear, plunging the entire nation into dire straits.
Who could have imagined that this all began simply because someone’s son tragically died on the front line?
The fate of an empire, such a momentous matter, was now inexplicably linked to her, a mere medic; the thought alone was… nauseating.
Yang Xi, too, was preparing to return with them to guard the explosives from being destroyed, but he had barely taken two steps before being stopped.
“Our Platoon Leader has no weapon. You must stay and protect her well; don’t let her be captured by those foreign devils.”
“Understood.”
Yang Xi agreed to the squad leader’s command with surprising alacrity, a stark contrast to his earlier defiance against the middle-aged major.
Seeing that Yang Xi wasn’t rushing towards the bridge with a gun, Lin Yu’s uneasy heart finally felt a sliver of relief. If he had gone along, how could she have possibly run with such heavy equipment?
If he, too, had rushed towards certain death, Lin Yu would have been powerless to stop him. His staying behind was already the best possible outcome.
“Take this,” she said, pointing to the portable magical radio on the ground. “We need to find somewhere to hide; standing here is too dangerous.”
Yang Xi half-crouched, hoisted the device onto his back, and followed Lin Yu forward.
Because she still needed to unspool the remaining half-bundle of fuse, her pace was slower than Yang Xi’s, and before long, the man overtook her, turning to look back from ahead.
“Where should we hide?”
“To…”
Her words caught in her throat as an unwelcome figure appeared at the edge of her vision.
“Quickly, find a ditch and jump in! Someone’s coming this way…”
Lanforthian soldiers had already passed by them earlier, but this time was different; their direction of advance wasn’t towards an attack, but rather like a search along the riverbank.
Why would they be searching the riverbank? Clearly, their whereabouts had been exposed.
Having suffered one setback, the Lanforthians would not permit another incident of espionage and sabotage.
From the perspective of the searching Lanforthians, they would not allow this to happen a third time—they even blamed Major Lawrence’s sudden collapse on the Diaclans.
To stumble repeatedly in this manner would prompt even the most obtuse commander to heighten vigilance.
They continued forward, keeping a close eye on the figures ahead. Fortunately, the soldiers eventually halted a hundred meters away and turned to search, preventing Lin Yu and Yang Xi from immediate exposure.
However, the rest of their squad had already come face-to-face with Lanforthian military police.
“Someone’s firing behind us.”
“Mm.”
“They’ve engaged.”
“I know.”
Lin Yu, unable to sense the fluctuations of magical artifacts, continued forward, bearing the hopes for the campaign’s success or failure.
The Lanforthians had dispatched over a hundred reserve troops to patrol near the riverbank. They quickly engaged the small team of Diaclan spies and unexpectedly discovered their activities beneath the bridge.
Dozens of kilograms of alchemical explosives were strategically placed at critical points like bridge pillars and piers, all wired up, posing an imminent risk of detonation.
Determined to eliminate this group of spies on the spot, dozens of Lanforthian military police swiftly followed the wires, soon arriving at the point where Lin Yu and Yang Xi had separated from the rest of the squad.
A military policeman crouched down, meticulously examining the footprints in the soil, then lifted his foot to compare them with his own boot soles.
[Those Diaclan spies are still ahead! Pursue them quickly!]
As for why they didn’t simply cut the wires?
Doing so would be tantamount to directly detonating the explosives.
The detonation device employed by Diacla, consistent with the Rorman Empire’s practices, functioned like a tension-release fuse. The wire continuously fed a faint magical energy to the detonator, maintaining the stability of the catalyst-soaked explosive.
Severing the wire would disrupt this stable environment, resulting in a ‘boom!’—and the Lanforthians would be left to sing the nursery rhyme ‘Mang River Iron Bridge Falls Down,’ trapped between the river and the Diaclan army on the right bank.
Such an outcome was one no one wished to foresee, necessitating removal by specialized personnel. To prevent manual detonation during the disarmament, they had to immediately follow the wires to locate the detonator.
As they pursued, Lin Yu spotted another patrol of Lanforthian soldiers approaching along the riverbank and immediately urged Yang Xi to find any available ditch to hide in.
The battlefield never lacked shell craters. Carrying two crucial devices, they ran a short distance and found a suitable trench to leap into.
Fortunately, it was a relatively intact trench, largely untouched by heavy bombardment, likely an abandoned position from when the left bank was initially lost.
The trench, nearly as deep as she was tall, caused her to fall quite hard, though the device cradled in her arms remained undamaged.
“Yang… Yang Xi, are you all right…”
“Shh.”
The man, half-crouching in front of her, raised his standard-issue Lanforthian rifle. Its metallic magazine, scarred by countless battles, gleamed softly in the moonlight and flare light.
[Who are you? Which unit…]
The Lanforthian enemy soldier in the trench was shot through the chest, falling straight down like a lead weight.
The fluctuations of magical energy that Lin Yu couldn’t perceive spread outwards, and in her eyes, a blue light blossomed within the trench.
First to spot the enemy, first to identify, first to open fire—thankfully, not first to die.
What followed was merely a clean-up operation, much like the late-night segment of the third day of the Mang River battle.
Yang Xi, unscathed and performing at his peak, transformed into a veritable Diacla Superman, once again dominating the entire field, striking down Lanforthian military police with a single shot, as if a god descended.
Lin Yu’s only task was to collect weapons and ammunition for him from behind, clumsily reloading empty rifles before tossing them back to Yang Xi.
Working in concert, they dispatched over a dozen Lanforthian military police until the Lanforthians began to attack simultaneously from both flanks.