Although it was still snowing lightly, it was considered good weather for the Northern Region.
Dingzi listlessly wiped the barrel of his gun, occasionally glancing through the spyglass towards the Impassable Mountains – a frequency that had steadily decreased with the increasing number of days on duty. Now, he looked only two or three times a day, spending the rest of his time maintaining his rifle and chatting with his comrades.
Weapon maintenance was a meticulous task. Every half month or so, they received a thumb-sized "oil stick" wrapped in stiff paper, rumored to be made from waste oil from the soap factory. When needed, they had to heat it up before applying it to the special double-headed brush, one end large and the other small, just right for inserting into the barrel and cylinder. Previously, only each squad was equipped with cleaning tools, but now, with the increasing number of factories and workshops in Neverwinter City, brushes had become standard equipment for rifles, almost one per person.
Of course, if no campfire was available, the oil stick could be warmed by placing it in the pocket or holding it in the mouth. Although the First Army strictly forbade eating this waste oil, some soldiers would secretly smear a little on their rations as seasoning, savoring it with relish.
As squad leader, he generally chose to turn a blind eye.
After all, the teams stationed in the Northern Region were mostly veterans, some even a decade or two older than him. If it weren't for his participation in the elementary education popularization class, he wouldn't have been able to become the squad leader. Looking at those former neighbors and elders, Dingzi could only smile.
After assembling the disassembled parts one by one, the rifle became shiny again. He pulled the trigger a few times to confirm that the dry firing was normal before shifting his gaze back to the front of the position.
The autumn ambush was still etched in Dingzi's memory. As soon as he closed his eyes, the image of the young woman in the red robe would appear in his mind. He had witnessed her death in this bunker. Even though he knew she was the enemy, a Pure One of the Church, the sight of her struggling in the hail of bullets still made him feel uncomfortable. If it weren't for Tie Axe's orders and his sense of duty to His Majesty, he probably would have left the army and returned to his original job—a steam engine operator in the mining area.
Although he still remained in the First Army, Dingzi decided to transfer from the rifleman group to become an observer protecting the riflemen. Knowing that his actions were somewhat self-deceptive, he still couldn't get past that mental barrier.
The battlefield, where a bloody battle had taken place and the land had been soaked with blood, now showed no signs of it. The barbed wire had long been dismantled, leaving only a dozen crooked wooden stakes. The trenches were also filled with snow. If it weren't for the several bunkers still standing, the plain looked no different from the surrounding land. Besides them, no one knew that more than two thousand people had died hundreds of meters in front of the first row of wooden stakes.
"Squad leader, the stove is almost out of firewood. I'll go to the field and get some," a soldier about Dingzi's age said, referring to the stakes that had been used to secure the barbed wire. "Otherwise, the next team will blame us for only using without replenishing."
"But it's duty time..." Dingzi shook his head. "It won't look good if others see us."
"They won't say anything," another veteran laughed. "It's so cold, who would care if we get some things to warm ourselves. Besides, it's been several months, and those cowards from the Church haven't shown a single shadow. They won't be able to find us at this time."
This was unanimously agreed upon by everyone.
Dingzi also knew that the other party was right. At first, there were still five hundred people in the camp, stationed at the foot of Coldwind Ridge according to Tie Axe's requirements, to guard against the Church's last-ditch counterattack or the invasion of demonic beasts. However, none of the expected enemies appeared. The high-ups probably thought that the situation wouldn't change much anymore, and more than two hundred of the garrison had been withdrawn one after another. The remaining basically only stayed in the bunkers in shifts, monitoring the movements in the northwest as patrol teams.
He hesitated for a moment and finally agreed to the soldier's request. "You'll be too slow to carry it alone. Call two more people to go with you."
The latter whistled. "Yes, sir!"
Dingzi turned around, picked up the spyglass, and looked towards the end of the snowfield. As far as the eye could see, it was still a white expanse, as if it would never
change.
As he was about to take out the rifle to wipe it, two or three black dots suddenly appeared in his field of vision, particularly conspicuous against the white background.
He was stunned for a moment, then shouted, "Wait!"
The soldier who had already reached the staircase immediately stopped. The others who were gathered around the stove also flocked over. "What's the situation?"
Dingzi wiped the lens with the felt of his collar and looked northwest again. This time, the black dots became more numerous. He held his breath, observed intently for a while, and then realized that they were actually figures slowly moving through the snow.
"Sound the alarm! Someone is approaching the position!"
"Wuwuwuwuwu——————————" As the sound of the horn spread across the empty wilderness, the entire camp burst into activity.
Dingzi, carrying his long gun, led his squad down the bunker, forming a firing line around the base of the tower, resting their gun barrels on the snow-covered sandbags. Since the trenches had been filled with snow, they could only shrink the line of defense, assisting the heavy rifle firepower points for defense.
"Is it the people of the Church?" someone asked.
"Who else would it be?" the previous veteran muttered unhappily. "Coldwind Ridge has long been abandoned by His Majesty. The only ones who can come from that direction are those from Hermes. I underestimated them."
"Wouldn't there be a bunch of monster-like warriors appearing again? We don't have the artillery battalion to support us this time."
"What's there to be afraid of? I don't believe they can run wild in the snow." The veteran spat. "Either they don't wear armor, or they'll obediently fall into the pits and become targets."
"Sir, distance?"
"At least a thousand meters away," Dingzi frowned as he looked at the suspicious targets. "Strange, something's not right..."
"What's not right?"
"They... don't look like God's Punishment Army."
"Could it be that the Church sent the Judgment Army to their deaths?" Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. If it were just ordinary Judgment Warriors, there was absolutely no way they could charge in front of them under the crossfire of the rifle bunkers.
"It's not the Judgment Army either... Not only are they not wearing armor, but they don't even have many intact clothes," Dingzi said with astonishment as he held up his spyglass. "Heavens, how did these people walk down the mountain? They look like... a group of refugees!"
"They might be God's Punishment Warriors disguised as refugees," the veteran shrugged. "Hey, where are you going?"
"I'm going to make them stop!" Dingzi said without turning his head. "Otherwise, the other squads will definitely shoot them!"