Chapter 312 New Soldiers and the Front Line

In the autumn, the weather is slightly cool.

It is not winter yet, but the coldness of autumn is often mixed with the pervasive cold wind. When the autumn wind sweeps through the tall trees in the forest, their broad treetops are like a sudden snowfall, and the yellow leaves fall to the ground under the wind.

A thick layer is laid on the ground with the same yellow tone.

The recruit tightened his white military uniform. Although it was a little old and torn, and there were a lot of traces of mending on the clothes, he also felt that this was the cleanest, neatest and warmest clothes he had ever worn.

He was assigned an iron rune sword, which was far less delicate than the fine steel long sword used by the knights, but it could also easily split firewood.

He imagined that if this rune sword fell on a person, the armor and flesh would be cut together.

The sharpest felling axe the recruit had wielded was no more than this, and the swinging of this rune sword was not comparable to that of a felling axe.

He had heard that the soldiers who were conscripted to the front were not even given weapons and equipment, but were asked to rush to the enemy and die. The recruit's eyes fell on the long sword in front of him, and the firewood that was completely split by the rune sword, and he felt more at ease.

The conscription started four months ago. At that time, the recruits were busy with summer sowing at home with their parents. The people in their village had been conscripted to death.

Many people simply gave up the summer harvest and fled their hometown with everything they had, or hid in the mountains. The recruit's family was very poor, and they couldn't let go of the summer harvest. The recruit's parents also said: As long as this season's harvest is over, they will take him to seek refuge with distant relatives.

Now those knights have finally come to their home.

He was assigned to a team of veterans who retired from the front line. The veteran lost an arm, and he could even see a lot of burn marks on the veteran's body - the scorch marks were like charcoal blocks, condensed on the veteran's skin.

The people with him were all half-grown boys who were about his age, and even the quartermaster despised them.

The quartermaster looked at this team of old, weak, sick and disabled people and sent them to do odd jobs for the army logistics.

The new recruits were sometimes curious about the battle situation on the front line, thinking of the stories of heroes who had made great achievements and achievements told to them by the bards in their hometown. Those legends on the battlefield wielded the magic weapons in the lake, rode the BMWs given by the king, and had supreme protection to go in and out of the enemy's guns.

He asked the old soldier, who always had a stern face, as if his facial nerves had scabbed like the scars on his body.

"You little guys, it's your greatest luck to be able to do odd jobs here... The front line... That's not where we should go."

The old soldier looked at the direction of the front line every day and sighed from time to time.

Sometimes he would ask the quartermaster for some hay rolled up with paper, saying that it was called cigarettes. The quartermaster never neglected the old soldier who had a broken arm.

As if the yellow smoke made of hay could make him feel more comfortable, the burning of the yellow-brown hay was no different from the fire on the haystack on the roadside.

One moves, the other just burns quietly.

But both are very choking.

The recruits don't like this smell at all.

Put the firewood into the backpack. After autumn, the camp needs more firewood every day. Those who are responsible for logistics must take the firewood back quickly, otherwise the quartermaster's whip will fall on them, the conscripted militia.

The quartermaster will not whip the old soldiers who manage these children, but he will not be soft when the whip falls on them.

The firewood is first supplied to the knights and lords with titles in the tent. If there is any left, they will be allocated some for use.

The recruit picked up the backpack and hung the rune iron sword back on his waist. The firewood inside was so full that he could hardly carry it.

He always brought the rune sword when logging, and used the long sword instead of the axe to cut trees.

He thought that every time he swung the rune sword, he would treat the tree in front of him as an enemy and imagine it as an enemy. He used all his strength for each cut, and let his body get familiar with the way of exerting force when wielding the weapon while cutting wood.

However, there were fewer and fewer trees near the camp, and the distance that the recruits had to walk was getting longer and longer, but the quartermaster never reduced the firewood collected from each logistics team - the time he could practice sword swinging casually like this was also getting shorter and shorter.

The old soldier did not work with the "little devil" he called, but the new soldiers saw that he never reduced the supplies he brought back every time, and the people in other logistics teams had already begun to complain that there was more water than rice in the meals.

Sometimes the new soldiers also wanted to listen to the one-armed old soldier's stories, but the old soldier never told them anything related to the battle except occasionally talking to them. He only told them occasionally what kind of pit to hide in when escaping and when they could run.

But he didn't tell him how to fight.

After a month of hard labor in the camp, all the heroic ideas in the recruits' minds were replaced by heavy physical work.

He wanted to survive until the end of this war whose cause and enemy he didn't know.

It was ridiculous that he had been recruited for two months but had never even seen the enemy.

Since the veterans in his team were unwilling to tell him anything, the recruits couldn't suppress their curiosity. The recruits would also sneak away to find other veterans, and he deliberately left a bowl of unfinished porridge water.

"There are neat green giants in their ranks who obey their commands, and a large number of trees that can move. Even the professional soldiers in the kingdom are crushed by those monster infantry..."

The infantry troops organized with ordinary rune weapons collapsed in front of their offensive.

Another veteran drank his porridge in one gulp and wiped his mouth.

"They also have people like us, but everyone is a magician. The staffs in their hands are different from those of ordinary people...The weapons in their hands will emit dangerous light balls, causing various kinds of damage."

He paused and whispered in a low voice.

"Don't tell anyone. To prevent us from causing panic, the knights told us soldiers who have returned to keep quiet... There are so many dead on the front line. You look like you are a farmer at home."

"The knights asked us to line up in rows, and the soldiers standing in front fell like wheat under a sickle... The stones thrown by the monsters are just like the stones we throw into the straw pile... The wizards said that they are an army controlled by demons."

The recruit thought of the scene when he used to playfully throw stones into the bushes, and the stones left a trace of crushing on the ground...

He was hungry for a whole night, but he didn't understand the scene described by the veteran. Since the enemy was so indestructible, how did they stop the enemy's advance?

The recruit kicked the pile of yellow leaves with his feet, revealing the moist and rotten earth. A large number of insects were hiding in the pile of dead leaves, and they were suddenly exposed to the light and ran around anxiously.

The insects exposed to the sun, the insects that lost their hiding places, the recruit felt that he could easily crush them with his feet.

"This is the last batch of wood for today."

He put down the basket of firewood he was carrying, and the one-armed veteran was still sitting outside the residence they were assigned to, with the firewood they collected today piled beside him.

"Um, captain, when are we going to the front line?"

The one-armed veteran shook his head and looked at the mountains in the distance.

"Autumn is here... kid, do you know how we stopped them?"

The recruit shook his head and suddenly remembered the insects he saw in the woods, hiding under the withered branches and leaves.

He raised his head and answered uncertainly.

"Then, we hide in the woods?"

The veteran nodded, and finally showed an ugly smile on his rough face, but the veteran's smile made the recruit's back cold.

He realized that the veteran was not looking at the distance meaninglessly, the veteran was looking at the long line that spread along the autumn wind, a yellow-green dividing line visible to the naked eye.

Autumn is here.

The leaves of the trees are about to fall off.

If they don't go to the front line, the front line will get closer to them day by day.