Alice in the Land of Steam

Chapter 1238 Is it really lucky?

Gun smoke licked the edge of the blood moon, dyeing the broken clouds into rust color.

A bullet landed ten meters to the left, and the sparks instantly ignited the night, making the blood seeping from the wound even more dazzling. Mitch sprinted forward, his military boots rolling over the charred craters, and the blue flames that exploded tore his shadow into pieces. An enemy locked his gun on him, but the boy rushed towards a half-collapsed low wall regardless, and the bullet chased his heels and nailed into the ground, making a sharp sound like a cat's claw scratching glass. At this time, another bullet was fired from the opposite direction, stirring up a shuttle-shaped airflow in the air, and mercilessly pierced through the guy's skull. The other party didn't even struggle, and fell to the ground with a muffled groan.

Mitch believed in Kadora's marksmanship, and the cover from behind was his guarantee that he could always rush to the front. He stepped over the low wall, and the magic sword in his hand, which was almost soaked in blood, burst out with amazing power under the power of the internal magic furnace, and slashed along the gap between the enemy's armor. The poor guy immediately fell down like a cut wooden stake.

This magic sword, produced in a factory in the Western Continent, has taken the lives of countless people in the Western Continent tonight. But perhaps weapons have no feelings, no so-called sense of belonging, and they will fight for whoever holds them. This is its fate, and it is also the reason why dead things can never reach the root of life.

With the cover of the low wall, Mitch continued to break through, his target was the enemy commander. After a fierce fight, both sides were almost out of ammunition and food, and the last straw was enough to completely crush the other side. For Mitch, this straw was the life of the enemy commander. As long as he killed that guy, the remaining enemies would completely lose the courage to fight and flee or surrender.

But whether his intention was too obvious or the enemy commander valued his life too much, he always hid himself in a makeshift trench made of wooden barrels, sandbags and various abandoned facilities, not even daring to show his head. The only passage leading to the trench was a corridor of more than ten meters, surrounded by thick stone walls on both sides, and the terrain was desperately narrow.

At this moment, friendly forces and enemy forces were fighting in warehouses, corridors and even simple small kitchens, but Mitch was at a loss as to what to do in the short corridor in front of him. Normally, he only needed two or three seconds to run back and forth in this corridor, but the war lengthened people's perception of time, so that things that seemed short in the past now seemed long, giving people an illusion that they were insurmountable.

Every roar and wail that came to his ears was like a drumbeat, urging Mitch to keep moving forward, and keep moving forward until victory or death. As a leader, his steps should be extremely firm, just as he has always been determined to win victory for his companions and bring death to the enemy. But when the familiar screams sounded, his mind still went blank for a moment.

"Ike!"

Someone cried out the names of the victims sadly.

Mitch's heart seemed to be tugged, suffocating. A gently smiling face appeared in his mind. The boy named Ike was two years older than him and one of the oldest members of the Youth Army. Therefore, he had always protected everyone as a brother. He had taught Mitch how to use the magic sword, helped Moya integrate into the team, and sang folk songs from his hometown to everyone when the weather was good - although the weather in the Evernight Forest was always cloudy, the weather in his heart made people feel extremely sunny.

This generous, gentle, and trusted brother only showed an undisguised expression of hatred when talking about the invaders from the Western Continent, and even said that he wanted to kill every Western Continent person to avenge his parents and brothers and sisters. This was actually a twisted hatred, but Mitch never realized it, because there were too many people in the Youth Army who had the same experience and the same ideas as him. When hatred was no longer an anomaly, those who were willing to think calmly became the anomalies.

It was not until later that they met Pastor Linger, Sister Metien and Sister Livia, and many other people from the West who were kind to them, and felt the long-lost happiness in the Tianxin Church, that Ike's thoughts changed a little, and he never said those radical words again. But he was still the most determined person in the plan to raid the Mineral Town. During the training, Mitch saw him sitting alone under a tree more than once, staring at the distant scene in a trance, muttering something in his mouth. Once Mitch pretended to pass by and deliberately eavesdropped, and only then did he hear those words buried deep in his heart: revenge... and sorry.

Revenge is a matter of course, but Mitch doesn't know why he should apologize or to whom. With the fall of that man, it will become an eternal mystery. When the bullet pierced his heart, would Ike feel regret or relief? Would the faces of those who wanted to apologize appear in his mind, but he had tried very hard, there was no need to apologize.

No one needs to apologize, even if they are going to die here today.

The battlefield suddenly became quiet for a moment, and the sudden dead silence made everyone feel uncomfortable. Mitch leaned his head against the low wall, avoiding the last bullet fired subconsciously by the enemy, but he did not fight back or chase, but thought: it seems like something is missing.

Something was suddenly missing on the battlefield. Something that should have existed disappeared, just like a piece of music was abruptly cut off, and the remaining rustling noise made everyone feel uncomfortable.

The boy was a beat slow to react and what disappeared was the sound of the machine gun spitting out flames.

The series of "da da da" sounds rang out every 20 seconds on the top floor of the fortress. It was the interval between machine gunners changing their ammunition belts. It was like the call of the god of death, hanging over everyone's head. But it suddenly disappeared, before anyone could react, and it had not been heard for a long time.

The rooftop was completely silent, as if no one was there.

Could it be that……

Mitch's heart beat violently. He couldn't tell whether he was excited or scared. He should have said that inspiring shout, but it felt like a big stone was pressing on his chest, choking him. In the end, another young soldier reacted first and shouted happily, "Moya killed the magic machine gun on the roof!"

“They succeeded!!!”

Like a flash of lightning piercing the darkness, the battlefield was boiling again, the sounds of exchange of fire and fighting were the same as before, as if the momentary silence that was too brief to be remembered had never happened. The only difference was that the attack and defense had changed sides, the faces of the young soldiers were full of excitement and enthusiasm, and they pursued the victory under the encouragement of their companions; while the defenders of the fortress were shrouded in despair and unwillingness, they had not yet lost their fighting ability, but they clearly realized that their persistence no longer had any meaning, and the first step to losing morale was also the first step to defeat.

The enemy's despair is his hope, so should he be happy at this moment? But Mitch didn't think so. He was even sadder, with a heavy heart, as if he was losing something... or, rather, losing more.

He took a deep breath, turned over suddenly, jumped over the low wall, and rushed through a corridor more than ten meters long under the enemy's firepower. Then he saw the enemy commander hiding in the innermost trench, looking at him with horror on his face, and other enemies who had dropped their guns, drawn their weapons, and were ready to engage in close combat with him.

He was not afraid because he knew that the battle would end here.

"Come at me!"

……

When Mitch rushed to the roof, Moya was leaning against the damp sandbag wall, dark red ice crystals seeping out from under his torn uniform - those were wounds caused by bullets from the Western Army, violent magic was crawling in his blood vessels, freezing every drop of blood into a sharp blade. His breathing was like a leaky bellows, and every gasp was mixed with the sound of his throat being torn apart.

There were corpses all around, some from the Western Army, and some from the young soldiers who followed Mitch to attack the rooftop. Not far away, two scrapped magic machine guns lay alone in a pool of blood, unaware that they were the culprits of tonight's battle. After all, weapons have no emotions. Mitch rushed over and wanted to untie Moya's clothes to check the wound, but found that the opponent's military uniform had long been stuck to his skin by blood, and the surface of his skin was marble-like blue-gray. I don't know if it was caused by magic or frozen by the cold of the night. At this time, other people also arrived one after another. After seeing the boy's condition, they all stopped at the same time, silent and not knowing how to deal with it. A girl came up with tears in her eyes, and in vain wrapped Moya's gradually stiff knee with a bandage. The bandage was soon dyed light purple, like a bunch of withered irises.

"It's finally here... so slow..." Moya tilted his head, a circle of blood condensed on the edge of his pupils, but the corners of his eyebrows were raised, making him look so frivolous and casual.

"Don't talk." Mitch tried his best to sound calm, and his trembling was entirely due to the cold night: "You need treatment..."

“Look first…” Moya raised his right hand with difficulty, and touched the scars on his body one by one with his fingertips. “Left shoulder… one bullet… abdomen… two bullets… left leg… ah, the most serious one… I was hit by several bullets… I can’t count them all… cough cough… and right hand… no… this one doesn’t count… do you know why… cough cough!”

"Because it was bitten by mice." Mitch interrupted him suddenly, "You insisted on feeding the bread to those beasts, and said that if you feed yourself, the whole family will not be hungry... wrong reasoning."

"That's the right truth..."

"Whether it's right or wrong," Mitch interrupted again and said seriously, "It has nothing to do with the present. Just shut up and have a good rest. The battle will be over soon, and our people will be here soon..."

"No...it's related...and, it's very important..." Moya looked at him, his eyes brighter than the moon in the sky.

"why?"

"Because... they fired so many, ahem, bullets, but not a single one... hit my vitals... Even if there was only one... I would, ahem, have died a long time ago. There would be no way... to complete the mission..."

"so?"

“So… I’ve already told you…” He raised his thumb with difficulty, pointing at himself, and slowly opened his mouth into a sad but somewhat relieved smile: “My luck… ahem, it’s very good… ahem!”

“Stop talking!” Mickey screamed, “I admit that you are lucky, better than all of us, so stop talking! Take a break, Moya, and don’t close your eyes, look carefully, we have always been here... It’s okay, everything will pass, we will all go back alive, have you forgotten your Legend of Zelda, you haven’t finished it yet...”

By the end, the voice was no longer a command, but almost a plea.

He couldn't finish his words as he was suddenly interrupted, not by words, but by a look.

Mitch read something in Moya's eyes, it was ridicule, or self-mockery: What a naive guy.

Even though so many people have died, they still say “we will all return alive”.

Just admit it honestly. Some people are destined not to stay with you until the end.

This is true for Sieg, this is true for Chris and Misha, this is true for Ike, and so, naturally, this is true for me too.

It’s better to say that this is how the world is.

Mitch's lips trembled, his throat trembled, but he couldn't say a word. Seeing that this overly naive young leader seemed to understand what he meant, Moya couldn't help laughing out loud, laughing more happily than before. If death is not a punishment but a relief, then who would frown at this time and infect others with their sadness? Besides, he still has another journey to go. His lost parents, the experience of wandering alone and not having enough food, and those distant memories of his childhood, maybe they will all meet again on this road in the end?

His laughter gradually faded into a sigh.

"Mitch, and everyone..."

"Thank you. I'm sorry."

His head slowly drooped and he fell asleep sadly.

The young leader froze. He carefully extended his fingers and pressed tremblingly on the artery on the side of Moya's neck - the pulse was beating slower and slower, like a requiem that was about to end.

When the heartbeat sound completely sank, there was a startling movement from the direction of the mineral town Lostra. A huge flame shot up into the sky. The armory and warehouse began to burn. Then there was chaos and fighting. The town guards were caught off guard by the surprise attack from the rear and retreated step by step. The invaders from the Western Continent, who were attacked from both sides, had no way to retreat. Large numbers of soldiers abandoned their guns and surrendered, and more people tried to break through and escape, but it was useless because they could never escape the battlefield.

The war seemed to be won, but that didn't make the boy feel a bit happy. Today, tomorrow, and every day in the increasingly distant future, Mitch would never forget that he heard two apologies on the same day.

Give me some meow