Retreating from the steep mountainside is extrely dangerous; once the enemy discovers us and charges up, we all beco sitting ducks. If the sturdy Dragon Tooth Long Sword loosens, we could fall and die. Fortunately, fifteen minutes passed without any enemy sighting, and we had climbed to the 500-ter mark. The world was engulfed by wind and snow; under such harsh weather, the enemy probably won't attack, right?
Luo Zheng pondered, unwilling to put his life in the enemy's hands due to their slackness. There were no ropes ahead, and everyone huddled together to avoid being blown away by the biting wind. The howling wind echoed past their eardrums painfully. Luo Zheng looked up at the summit, about 300 ters away, and shouted, "Use the rope for anchoring, keep climbing."
They quickly tied the ropes around their waists, linked them together like a long queue, and continued climbing upwards. Under the snowstorm, everyone wobbled, threatened to be blown away by the wind at any mont. Soone fell, the person ahead stood still imdiately, and the one behind helped them up. Snowflakes beat against them like living snown.
Climbing another hundred ters, the slope leveled, the snow deepened, reaching waist level—making it impossible to walk further. The wind and snow intensified, staggering them, their heads aching, their eardrums throbbing.
Among the five, Snow Leopard had the strongest physique, like a wolf leading the way. The snow quickly subrged most of his body, making it impossible to raise his feet. Snow Leopard forcibly opened a path through the thick snow with sheer physical strength, and everyone followed this path.
This thod of trailblazing was extrely exhausting, exacerbated by the powerful snowstorm. Luo Zheng shouted for everyone to stop and crouch, thus the wind blew over the snow's surface, they crouched in the snow groove, the wind blew overhead. Luo Zheng gestured, Ghost Hand understood, untied the rope from his body, and went ahead with the entrenching tool.
The snow layer was about one and a half ters deep; relying on physical strength was futile. Everyone understood Luo Zheng's intent and crouched there in anticipation. Mountain Eagle saw Ghost Hand slowing down and relieved him. Ghost Hand withdrew and secured his waist with the rope, just in case.
The entrenching tool cleared the path swiftly—only wide enough for one person, the depth only to step over. Mountain Eagle got tired, Lan Xue took over; Lan Xue tired, rested enough, Snow Leopard continued—but not allowing Luo Zheng to do it, avoiding exacerbating his injuries.
After ten-odd minutes, they finally reached the summit, dared not linger, descended the leeward side—the night deepened, visibility dropped drastically. Considering the danger, Luo Zheng directed them to find a sheltered spot, dug a snow cave, and hid. The nearly thousand-ter snowy mountain climb nearly drained their strength and endurance.
Faced with survival hope, they unleashed unprecedented potential, snow cave digging posed no issue for them. Ghost Hand, Mountain Eagle, Snow Leopard worked together efficiently while Lan Xue and Luo Zheng hugged for warmth to avoid being swept away by the wind. Not too many people were needed to dig a snow cave; too many limited the space.
Soon, Lan Xue pointed at the sky, exclaid, "Look, what's that?"
Everyone, drawn by Lan Xue's shout, stopped working, looked up, faces changed drastically; Luo Zheng saw it too, his face fell, brow furrowed, shouted, "It's a missile!"
They all recognized the missile; its whistling was devastating. One after another, they dropped the entrenching tool, resigned to fate, watching the approaching missile. Before a missile, life is as fragile as an ant, unlikely to survive. Luo Zheng too wore a bitter expression, barely escaped here, never expected the enemy used missiles—those long-range ballistic missiles.
"It's a tactical missile, not a strategic missile with a nuclear warhead," Lan Xue shouted.
"What difference does it make?" Luo Zheng smiled wryly; tactical or strategic missile was enough to kill them all. He embraced Lan Xue tightly, thinking dying together wasn't bad, apologetically glanced at Ghost Hand and others, shouted, "Brothers, I'm sorry I couldn't get you ho alive, we'll continue being brothers down there, keep fighting against 'the Third.'"
"Being brothers, fighting 'the Third.'" Facing the approaching missile, shouted boldly, risked everything. When death ca, they found there was nothing to fear, perhaps they'd seen too much death—who knows? They didn't care anymore.
Ghost Hand, Mountain Eagle, Snow Leopard exchanged glances, calmly watched the ballistic missile, closed their eyes. Dying was fine—they'd killed many 'the Thirds,' worth it. They stood firm, even in death, facing boldly—never kneeling to survive.
"Brothers, the blade of National is sharp; only death in battle, never kneeling to live—ti to go," Luo Zheng shouted with somber, a desperate draw, held Lan Xue tightly, fearing losing her. Lan Xue hugged Luo Zheng too, pressed her face against his chest, regrettably couldn't be true spouses in life, dying together was worth it.
"Ti to go," Ghost Hand and others shouted, challenged everything, soared to the sky.
All closed their eyes, faced Death God calmly. The howling wind resonated by their ears, sothing buzzed overhead. The terrifying sonic boom was deafening. They opened their eyes in astonishnt, found the ballistic missile gone, stunned, dubious, glanced around.
"Boom!" A deafening explosion shook the heavens; the world trembled, everyone felt the mountainside snow loosening, slipping. They were bewildered; the ballistic missile, aid at them, why did it cruise over the summit and explode in the opposite valley—went off-target?
They exchanged puzzled glances, instantly reacted; the missile's explosive force was blocked by the nearly thousand-ter peak. An unexpected survival joy surged in their hearts; anyhow, they lived on, shouted excitedly, releasing their tense emotions. Luo Zheng let go of Lan Xue, ascended quickly towards the summit; others reacted, picked up trenching tools, climbed to the summit rapidly, hand and foot, quickly.
Soon, they reached the summit, rushed to the other side, shocked—saw countless snow cascading down the mountainside like galloping horses. The previously dead valley was now filled with snow. The terrifying explosion wave scarred surrounding peaks, unfortunately, the dim sky and blizzard hindered view, only a vague scene visible.
Luo Zheng, leading, felt the avalanche's roaring sound approaching—strong currents wobbled them—is shocked, quickly turns, runs, shouts, "Run fast."
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