In the tropical rainforest, amidst a downpour.
Luo Zheng and his n charged ahead through the rain like hungry wolves, no one spoke a word. Their body heat mixed with the rain, forming a white mist of steam. Their camouflage suits were completely soaked, and large raindrops drumd on their helts, splashing away with a thudding sound. The thick greasepaint on the warriors' faces washed away in the rain, revealing bulging veins on their arms as they gripped their guns, their fierce gazes beca even more resolute and powerful, and their lips were tightly sealed with anger.
Running, sprinting rapidly, fallen trees blocked the way, but they leaped over without wasting ti by turning. The rainwater on the ground splashed wildly under their anti-explosion boots, making a whooshing noise. No one looked back, no one stopped, they were all running as if their lives depended on it.
A soldier carrying a wounded comrade could no longer run. Imdiately, soone else rushed over to take the wounded on their back and continued running, without stopping. Luo Zheng and Scholar, along with several snipers, stayed back to cover the rear. The enemy was relentlessly pursuing them, attacking without regard for losses, which put Luo Zheng and his team at a disadvantage. Thankfully, they had managed to escape the encirclent. There was only one threat now, or it would have been even more troubleso.
During alternating cover, Luo Zheng's face was grimly set, his lips tightly closed. His cold gaze continuously sought out the pursuing enemy, quickly killing them. Along the way, Luo Zheng didn't know how many he had killed. He just knew to keep shooting, relentlessly killing any enemy daring enough to pursue, venting the fury in his heart.
This ti they had narrowly avoided a complete encirclent. Luo Zheng knew it was due to his command error, and he was extrely ashad and frustrated, wishing he could tear Turul into pieces. When one magazine was empty, he imdiately replaced it with another. During the retreat, Luo Zheng had picked up three magazines, each with a capacity of 30 rounds, enough for a while.
Realizing the reason behind Turul's frantic pursuit, Luo Zheng suddenly understood. Ard warlords had limited warfighting capabilities alone, so Turul had set this trap, then used human wave tactics and "candy-bar" strategies to wear everyone down. This tactic of killing a thousand enemies at the expense of eight hundred was headache-inducing. Luo Zheng felt sowhat helpless and decided they had better cover the team and retreat first.
"Captain, the brothers who have retreated sent a ssage. The retreat path leads to a tall mountain peak. North is a steep mountainside, south is a gentle slope. Which way should we go?" Scholar rushed forward, leaning against a big tree, shouted to Luo Zheng. He peeked out to spot the enemy, quickly shot the target, then ducked back.
"To the south, tell the brothers to move faster," Luo Zheng roared. His gun was poised shoulder-high, he took a kneeling position to aim and fire. He appeared utterly motionless, each bullet casing ejecting from the barrel, just as hot as Luo Zheng's anger, they fell into the rainwater, steaming fiercely.
"Yes," Scholar shouted back loudly. Although he didn't know why Luo Zheng had chosen the south, he chose to trust fully and relayed the order, continuing to target and shoot at the pursuing enemy.
There were many enemies in pursuit, but the trees provided cover, and the rain-soaked ground was slippery and hard to navigate, reducing their speed. Luo Zheng, Scholar, along with a few snipers, precisely shot and firmly suppressed the pursuers, alternating cover to retreat and increasing the distance between them and the enemy, managing to still control the situation.
Luo Zheng did not know that as Turul stared at the bodies strewn across the ground and listened to the continual reports of casualties, his face was icy cold. Balang, hearing the reports, also looked troubled. The encirclent battle was seemingly about to succeed, and it was unexpected that the enemy would beco alert ahead of ti and break out the way they had co. The pursuing troops were exhausted; how could they withstand Luo Zheng and his n, determined to break out to their deaths? Nearly a hundred n were killed, not counting the wounded.
This was not the worst of it. The most important thing was that the troops sent in pursuit were fresh forces. In less than half an hour of pursuit, more than a hundred had died in battle, and the situation of the wounded was also very bad; the hits were all in critical areas, and no one knew how many could survive.
In the surrounding area, Turul's ard warlord force was considerable—with over five thousand n and rather good equipnt—but they could not endure such attrition. Balang estimated that in the past few days of fighting, at least one-fifth of their forces had been lost, and the ammunition consumption had been enormous. How could this go on? Thinking this, Balang could not help but glance at Turul.
Turul was livid, his gloomy face almost dripping water, and his half-closed triangular eyes flickered with a terrifying fierceness. People around involuntarily moved away a bit, fearing to provoke Turul and bring disaster upon themselves. Balang, with a bitter expression, pondered for a mont before steeling himself and saying, "Dad, should we find another opportunity to ambush them?"
Balang dared not advise Turul to give up the pursuit, but he knew as well that no one else dared to counsel Turul while he was furious. To preserve their strength, Balang knew he had to speak up. Turul coldly glanced at Balang and roared angrily, "Ambush, ambush, do you know where they will go afterward? Where should we ambush them? Right now they are like stray dogs; as long as we keep pursuing, they can't escape. If we let them escape, then the dead will be us. After losing so many brothers, you want to give up? How would you have explain this to the brothers who died in battle?" By the end, Turul had almost started bellowing, his look towards Balang filled with disappointnt.
In terms of combat experience, Balang was clearly not as seasoned as Turul. While ambushing was crucial, it had to be possible to carry it out. They had finally managed to surround the enemy, yet they had been broken out. Would they ever get such a good opportunity again? Turul stared fiercely at Balang, his gaze filled with disappointnt and then roared angrily, "Pursue them! Revenge for our brothers!"
"Kill!" The eyes of those around them lit up. People are emotional beings, and Turul's call for revenge for the brothers killed in battle comforted everyone while filling them with a fighting spirit. After all, who, when dead, wouldn't long for others to seek revenge? Even if it ant risking their heads as soldiers of an ard warlord.
Seeing that the morale of the troops was usable, Turul coldly glanced at Balang and led the troops to pursue. Balang involuntarily shivered, gleaning many anings from Turul's gaze. His face turned pale. Clenching his teeth, he was about to lead his n in to assist, showing his resolve, when suddenly soone beside him spoke.
This man was short in stature but gave off a capable air, speaking in a low voice, "Brother, the General must lead the pursuit both for the sake of his prestige and to bolster cohesion, yet you must consider preserving our strength."
Such probing words would have spelled disaster for anyone else, but Balang greatly valued this man. With his eyebrows tightly furrowed, he pondered for a mont before asking, "What do you an by that?"
"What will we do when our n are gone? What about the ho guard?" the man asked coldly in return.
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