Chapter 57
Chapter 57
Over the past few days, they have repelled several attacks by small hordes of zombies, holding on with the help of a low wall and a few bayonets until now, and have been without food for two days.
"Is there anything to eat?" The Ross sergeant peeked out from behind the low wall and asked in broken Romulus with a heavy Ross accent.
His uniform sleeve had been torn off, revealing a forearm wrapped in a blood-soaked bandage, but his eyes remained sharp, and he spoke as if he were asking a friendly soldier, not a group of people who might have been enemies just days before.
Chertsov looked at him, then replied in Russian, "Yes. Plenty."
The two remaining units were thus incorporated into the army.
Romulus's soldiers were assigned to the unit under Ludwig's Grey Knights, while Ross's soldiers were placed under Chernzov's command and placed under the unified command of Rahman.
They left behind the low wall the bodies of several comrades who had succumbed to their injuries and did not survive until rescue. After hastily burying them with frozen soil and gravel, they carried their remaining weapons and ammunition and joined the marching column.
After the incorporation, the total number of people in the team has exceeded four hundred.
As they set up camp that evening, Allen walked briskly from the wagon to Ludwig and Chernzov.
His breathing was a little rapid, not from exhaustion, but from excitement: "Miss Brandlis woke up once. She just opened her eyes and said a few words."
Ludwig and Chertsov turned around at the same time and strode toward the carriage.
Perfit was still wrapped in a blanket, the damp cloth on her forehead had been changed, but her cheeks still had a low-grade feverish flush.
The military doctor was squatting beside her, listening to her heart and lungs. When he saw the two of them approach, he gently shook his head: "She's fallen asleep again. She did wake up just now, but she's still not very conscious. Her speech is slurred, and it's hard to understand what she's saying."
"What did she say?" Chernzov asked.
The medic glanced at Belfast beside him, then at Allen, and replied, "I only heard a few words. It sounded like they were asking... 'Have we arrived yet?', and then they said a name, but the pronunciation was too unclear, I couldn't make it out, it seemed like they were saying 'Belfast.'"
Belfast stood beside the carriage, the exhaust of the steam knight's armor sounding deep and steady.
She didn't speak, nor did she need to explain to anyone the meaning of the name Perfit had mentioned.
After the medic finished speaking, she simply turned her helmet slightly to fix her gaze on Perfit.
Ludwig stood beside the carriage and watched Perfit for a while.
Her breathing was still shallow and rapid, but her brows were no longer tightly furrowed; instead, they relaxed a bit, as if she had finally found the way out of a long nightmare.
Ludwig didn't speak, but simply reached out and tucked one corner of the carriage canopy back in before turning and walking back to his gray-armored knights.
Although Perfit wasn't fully awake, she did wake up and speak, which was enough to give the entire team more to look forward to on the march ahead.
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Three days after the group left the low wall, they finally caught sight of the outline of Wild Boar Ridge Fortress.
It was a medium-sized military fortress built against the mountain, with gray stone walls winding up the ridgeline, enveloping the highest point of the hill.
The city wall bears scorched marks from artillery fire in many places, and a corner of the eastern tower has collapsed, with rubble scattered from the tower's base all the way down to the mountainside.
The Romulus flag hanging on the city wall had been torn in half by shrapnel, and the remaining half was still fluttering in the wind.
A temporary trench was dug around the perimeter of the fortress, behind which was a breastwork made of rubble and sandbags. Soldiers walked back and forth behind the breastwork, their breath forming a white mist in the cold air.
The group was stopped by sentries as they approached the outer moat of the fortress.
Chertzov presented a copy of the Ross military order found at the pass and his general's identification, while Ludwig simply stated his name and rank.
After the sentry verified the information, a heavy iron gate slowly rose with the creaking of a winch.
The inside of the fortress appeared more crowded than the outside.
The playground was densely packed with temporary tents, some made of military tarpaulin, and others just a few wooden sticks supporting a tattered cloth.
The wounded soldiers leaned against the wall, their uniforms wrapped in dirty bandages. Some used their rifles as crutches, while others lay on the ground wrapped in blankets, lost in thought.
The air was filled with the smell of disinfectant vinegar, the cloying sweetness of rotting wounds, and the smoke of cheap tobacco, all mixed together and lingering for a long time.
No one spoke loudly; the only sounds were the suppressed groans of the wounded and the hoarse voices of officers issuing orders in low voices.
Ludwig's father, Elector Oberstan, received them in the command post in the main building of the fortress.
The Elector looked much older than Ludwig remembered—his once iron-gray hair was now completely white, his face was deeply wrinkled, his eyes were sunken, the collar of his military uniform was open, the map on the table was folded repeatedly until the edges were frayed, and next to him was a cup of black coffee that had gone cold.
When he saw Ludwig, he first stood up and hugged him tightly, patted his son's back a few times, then let go, looked him up and down, and only after confirming that he was not missing any limbs did a very faint, tired smile appear on his face.
But that smile quickly vanished.
"You shouldn't have come here," Elector Oberstan's voice was hoarse and low. "You should have stayed in Stocana, in a place where you could still safely evacuate. This place is already a dead end. Although we've broken through the encirclement once, infected are still pouring in from the north. The defenses can only hold out for a little longer at most."
I've done everything I can—digging trenches, setting up defenses, allocating ammunition—but I know it won't stop them.
I'm just doing my best. Keeping the soldiers busy, preventing them from completely collapsing. But son, you must leave here alive, leave Romulus.
Ludwig stood before his father, listened quietly to his words, and then spoke.
He was neither pleading nor refuting, but stating a fact he had repeatedly verified: "I went to Rus'. I went to St. Petersburg, to the Predelshinsk district, and saw with my own eyes the source of the wilt outbreak."
That wasn't a plague; it was a deep well sealed off by an ancient seal, and inside that well was something far more terrifying than the infected.
What we saw was just a few remnants, but it had almost destroyed the entire expedition.
Father, this disaster cannot be solved by Ross or Romulus alone.
The wilt disease will not stop at the border, and those infected will not stop biting just because we hang up the national flag.
We must unite with other countries. And Viktoria—our most needed ally—is Viktoria.
He paused, turned to look at the carriage behind him, where Perfit was lying with a damp cloth on his forehead, wrapped in a blanket, and two faint blushes of fever on his pale cheeks had not completely faded.
"Victoria is the strongest nation in the world, possessing the most powerful navy and the most extensive overseas colonies. If Romulus's borders fall completely and land routes are cut off, the only supply line and retreat route for the Northern Legion will be Victoria's sea route."
But more importantly—I saw what she did with my own eyes. She single-handedly sealed off something far more terrifying than a horde of zombies.
She led us from Ross to here, and she carried us every step of the way. She is humanity's hope in overcoming this disaster.
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