The ground was riddled with holes, with pits and craters everywhere from shelling. The trenches dug by the engineers were like deep scars.

"boom!"

The shells landed near the crowd, shrapnel mixed in the flying dust, and several more dusty bodies fell to the ground.

"Ah, it's the shelling!"

With short shouts, all the soldiers instinctively fell into the trenches in a very short time.

Those who did not develop this habit were either new recruits just brought in from all over the place, or dead people who were blown to pieces.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Sure enough, shells fell like raindrops, exploding around them again and again.

Except for one unlucky guy who was hit on the back of the head by a shell, everyone else was almost unharmed.

"Stopped!"

"The bombardment has stopped!"

"Damn the Cassanders, they all deserve to go to hell!"

Someone was wailing and screaming as he rolled around in the trench, holding his leg that was cut off by a shell.

There are no doctors or disinfection methods here, and suffering such serious injuries on the front battlefield basically means death.

"Poor Busa!"

The old soldier sighed in a habitual tone. Although he was an "old soldier", he was only in his twenties - but this did not prevent those who were older than him from calling him a "veteran".

The reason is simple. He is the one who has lived the longest on this battlefield and has been on this position for more than five months.

During this period, his comrades-in-arms have been replaced one after another.

Of course, the old soldier also had his own name - Paul Stanton, but everyone is still used to calling him the old soldier.

"It hurts!"

"Damn it, so this is what a broken leg feels like. This is worse than going to hell!"

"veteran"

Busa was still lying on the ground wailing. He looked at Bauer, his eyes blurred with tears and filled with pain, but with a complicated look.

Bauer could see the implication—it was a plea.

Busa didn't want to live anymore.

Suddenly, the soldiers around fell silent. They focused their hesitant eyes on Bauer, as if waiting for his decision.

"damn it."

Ball spat.

He loaded his rifle skillfully, took a few steps forward, and put the muzzle of the gun to Busa's temple.

"May you live forever in the kingdom of Amaunator."

"Thank you."

"boom!"

There was a crisp gunshot, and brain matter and blood flew everywhere.

Busa is a merchant. His whole family are devout believers of Amaunator. He rarely even curses people on weekdays. He was summoned to the battlefield by Wilham three months ago.

He spent the last few minutes of his life swearing and using all the dirty words in his life, and was killed by a bullet five seconds ago.

"Busa is the longest-lived person among the second batch of comrades. He did nothing wrong, he just had bad luck."

Bauer thought so.

He turned around, his expression calm, but his hand holding the gun was shaking a little.

"Let's go. Although they have already carried out an artillery attack, the battlefield is changing rapidly. Who can guess what will happen?"

"Like... this unfortunate guy whose legs were cut short by shrapnel."

The remaining dozen or so soldiers continued to move forward. The veterans who had experienced life and death did not care, but the new recruits witnessed the death of their comrades who they had been with day and night, and were terrified by it.

Life is too cheap on this battlefield.

For some reason, the air around him became stagnant, as if it was immersed in a bowl of sticky blood.

Soon, after passing through the all too familiar ravine littered with corpses, the soldiers finally reached a safe area.

Suddenly, someone asked, "Old soldier, do you have any cigarettes?"

"Get lost! I finally found a few bags, and they're not enough for me. If you want some, go check the pockets of those corpses."

Bauer cursed with a stern look on his face.

He waved his hand, took out a crumpled paper box from his pocket, and held it in his hand as if it were a treasure.

The soldiers around immediately looked over with eager eyes.

"Wow! Made in the Empire!"

"Old soldier, you still have such good stuff hidden!"

The paper box packaging has a pattern of vertical pupils and flames, and the vague words "Made in the Empire" are printed on it.

The wooden handle of the rifle in Ball's hand also had such a mark.

The soldiers had no idea where these things came from, nor did they care about their meaning - they only knew that cigarettes with this mark were the most powerful and the best to smoke.

They knew: If Bauer didn't want to share the cigarettes, he would not take out this treasured thing.

The soldiers rushed forward, smiling, and stretched out their rough hands, sweeping away the previous tense atmosphere.

"Go aside, each take one—for Busa's sake."

“I haven’t gotten any yet!”

"Wait, there's me too!"

"Bullshit! What are you holding in your other hand? I just saw you holding one!"

When everyone dispersed with joy on their faces, Bauer looked down at the paper box with only one cigarette left, his face full of heartache.

"These bastards."

He took out the cigarette, shielded it from the wind with one hand, lit it with the other hand skillfully, and then put it in his mouth.

"call--"

"It's really made in the Empire. It's powerful, much better than those shoddy products."

Bauer leaned against the earth wall, exhaled a puff of smoke, and couldn't help but sigh in a low voice.

A refreshing feeling rushed to the top of his head, allowing his thoughts to briefly escape from the battlefield and fly to his distant hometown.

He thought of the former town of Strong, which was just a small town in the eastern Thrace region, but so peaceful and beautiful.

At that time, Ball was just an ordinary blacksmith apprentice. He made an agreement with Jenny from the flower shop next door - they would get married when he was able to manage the blacksmith shop on his own.

He remembered Jenny's rosy face that night, and her shy yet happy smile.

The scene was extremely heartwarming, and in his eyes it was more beautiful than heaven. He could even smell the fragrance of wild flowers on the other person's body.

But the next moment, the explosion and smoke tore this warm scene apart, making Ball couldn't help but scream.

"what--"

He continued to think.

The ruthless war broke all of this, and soon all the young men in the town were recruited by officers of the Thracian Kingdom, and Bauer was no exception.

"Jenny."

"Is she okay now? I heard from those people that Cassander's cavalry has also entered the eastern part of the kingdom."

“Maybe, maybe”

Bauer was a little worried.

The air was gray with artillery smoke and fog, and he could taste the bitterness of the smoke on his tongue.

Bauer didn't like the smell of gunpowder, but he liked smoking - because it was one of the few ways to relieve stress on the battlefield.

Every time he exhaled smoke, he would feel refreshed, and his tense brain would get a moment's rest.

"damn it."

"war of the Damned."

Bauer took a deep breath and realized that the war had penetrated into every aspect of his life.

Even if he escaped from reality, he could hardly escape the shadow of war.

As all-out war progressed, both sides' armies appeared on each other's territory, and burning, killing, and looting were commonplace - and Ball was just an ordinary soldier on the southern front.

If there is any difference between him and other soldiers, it is that he lives longer.

He can't change anything.

The timid voice of "Old Soldier" came.

Bauer turned his head and saw a dirty, childish face.

He was wearing a military uniform that was several sizes larger than himself, with his sleeves rolled up and wrinkled at his wrists.

That was Tommy, a new recruit, said to be only sixteen years old. Because of his distinctive baby face, everyone called him "kid".

Bauer glanced at him.

"Kid, we've run out of cigarettes."

Tommy shook his head and said seriously, "No, I didn't come to you for this. I just have a question that I haven't figured out yet, and I want you to answer it."

"Do you have any questions?"

Bauer narrowed his eyes, exhaled a puff of smoke, and said nonchalantly: "I have been on this battlefield the longest. If you have any questions, just tell me. The more you know, the longer you will live."

"That unfortunate guy Busa knows a lot, but it's a pity that he has such bad luck."

Tommy hesitated for a moment, then looked into Bauer's eyes and whispered, "Do you know why we are fighting?"

Bao's eyes widened immediately. He didn't expect the other party to ask such a strange question.

Tommy continued, "My father told me that the Holy Fadlan Empire is one, and both the Thracians and the Cassanders are proud citizens of the Empire."

"But now, we are fighting and killing each other. Why is this happening?"

"My father said that Otis betrayed the great sun god and became an apostle of hell. His Majesty Wilham is here to stop him."

The surrounding soldiers had gathered around and were quite interested in their conversation. After all, there was not much entertainment on the battlefield.

Ball didn't know.

He doesn't care about the cause of the war or its meaning, he just wants to survive, return to his small town, and marry Jenny.

Bauer wanted to shake his head to indicate that he didn't know, but for some reason, he suddenly remembered the "joke" he had heard from an officer before.

Then, Bauer said meaningfully: "The old emperor left a golden chair. Our Majesty Wilham wants to sit on it, and the evil Otis also wants to sit on it, so..."

At the end of his speech, he deliberately prolonged his voice to sound mysterious.

Tommy was stunned: "Is this the reason for the war? So many people died, so many people lost their homes, just for a chair?"

"So - none of this has anything to do with us!"

"It's just a joke! No matter how hard we try and fight, we're just trying to grab a chair for the person above."

Bauer smoked the cigarette until only the width of a pinky finger remained, and sighed with regret.

"I"

Realizing that he was being teased, Tommy's face turned red and it took him a long time to utter a word.

"Hahahahaha!"

"It's really a child!"

The soldiers roared with laughter.

"Child, live hard. No matter what the sun god in the sky does, I will be satisfied as long as I can see the sun tomorrow."

Bauer stretched himself, brushed the dust off his uniform, and said this.

He was talking about the war, but at this moment, what came to his mind was Jenny's rosy face - that was the future he longed for.

In the distance, the crisp sound of gunfire and the rumbling of artillery fire could still be heard.

At this moment, Bauer, Tommy and many happily smiling soldiers did not know that their troops were selected as reinforcements by General Misel Benacerraf because they were on the southern front and closer to the holy city.

And they are about to head to the most cruel "meat grinder" - the Holy City battlefield.

I wonder how many of the lively people who are now laughing, scolding, and joking can come back alive from there.

……

……

Istalia, the Thirteenth Factory of the Klaube Military Industrial Group.

The huge machine hummed like a giant beast made of steel, constantly spewing out smoke.

And on that assembly line, in front of that huge machine tool, hundreds of workers are completing their work at their respective posts: some are responsible for inspection, some are responsible for sorting, and some are responsible for assembly.

They were like machines, doing extremely simple tasks numbly without stopping for a moment.

"Everyone, pay attention!"

"The defective rate of the last batch of goods was over 8%!"

"You bunch of idiots, can't you do such a simple job? The people above us will be very unhappy!"

The supervisor's angry voice echoed in the workshop, making all the workers nervous.

"Hold on a little longer."

"It's time to get off work in half an hour."

Raj Pink thought so.

He is the worker responsible for sorting parts. His job is also very simple, which is to classify different parts.

But after six hours of non-stop work, he felt a little dizzy when he saw the parts.

"What are you doing!"

The worker next to him made a mistake and missed a defective part, which was discovered by the sharp-eyed supervisor.

The worker quickly apologized: "Yes, I'm sorry, sir, I was distracted."

"Don't do it again! If you find me again, I'll deduct half a month's salary from you!"

Hearing this, Raj quickly cheered up and forced his eyelids open.

He works here just to make a living.

money.

As the most developed city in Anzeta, Istalia is very expensive.

For an assembly line worker like him, his salary is only enough to make ends meet, and it would be wishful thinking for him to buy a house in this city.

The overseers said that these things they made would be made into exquisite weapons and sold to the south, and each one could be sold for a high price of one gold nar.

That's a kinnar!

You have to know that if he works diligently for a month, he can only get a salary of one kinnar, and this does not deduct daily expenses.

And there are probably thousands of guns passing through his hands every month. Raj often wonders where the money from those guns goes.

He doesn't know.

Maybe it all went into the pockets of those big shots.

The supervisor also explained to them impatiently: If the Dragon Blood nobles had not invested in building the factory and provided equipment, they would not even have the opportunity to work in Istalia, let alone get paid.

Raj and his fellow workers discussed for a long time and all agreed that what the supervisor said made sense.

Raj's idol is also a dragon-blood noble - his name is George.

George's story was published in the "Empire Daily" and was deeply loved by the workers. Raj even spent money to buy that issue of the newspaper, cut it out and posted it in his dormitory.

Baron George was born in a humble family and was once a serf in the North. He also started out as a low-level worker, worked hard step by step, and eventually became a dragon-blood noble.

That is how Raj imagines himself, and that is also how countless workers who come to Istalia see themselves.

"Come to think of it, I've seen Mr. George's former co-worker. I think his name was Howard, the supervisor of the factory next door."

"I don't know if I can meet Sir George."

Raj thought so.

Suddenly, a loud shout broke his beautiful vision.

"Raj! You're distracted too!"

"Sure enough, daydreaming every day will lead to mistakes! Look, you put part number two in the area of ​​part number three!"

"I'm sorry, sir, it's me"

Raj suddenly broke out in a cold sweat. He looked panicked and wanted to explain himself but didn't know where to start.

The supervisor just glanced at him and turned away: "Don't explain. This is your second mistake this month. Get ready to collect your silver!"

Raj, who stayed where he was, had a grim face, lowered his head, and sorted the parts silently.

His dream is to buy a small house of his own in the outer city of Istalia and open a flower shop in it.

But the houses in Istalia are not cheap, even the outermost houses cost thousands of kinaars.

Raj's salary is one kinnar a month, and half of it will be deducted this month.

When will he be able to realize his dream?
——Seeking monthly ticket——(End of this chapter)