As the last Plague Messenger was pierced through the head by a Quicksilver Bullet and ignited, Sudel pulled the bolt, ejected the cartridge, and after re-seating the bolt, the young man jumped up and sat on the edge of the foxhole. Soldiers in this section of the trench, wearing masks to protect against the plague and gripping low Sequence Holy Water in their mouths, began to finish off all the Chaos troops that still drew breath. They would take care of the believers, while those Chaos units with intestines hanging out would be set ablaze directly by the Dwarves’ Flame Soldiers using a spray of Holy Oil as fuel.
"Not bad shooting, young man." A military Judge came over; he looked at Sudel and smiled, meanwhile taking a cigarette case out of his pocket: "I’ve been watching you for a while, nearly every shot of yours takes down an enemy. Bullets are one thing, but your comprehensive grasp of the enemy’s weaknesses is impressive. You truly are his child. Want a cigarette?"
"Thank you, sir, but my mentor Mr. Malin has said that if one hasn’t enough physical fitness, it’s best not to smoke. Smoke can blur the eyes and harm the lungs, both are essential for a Sharpshooter and cannot afford to be damaged."
"An interesting way to speak, thank you for the reminder, I will sort out smokers and non-smokers among our Sharpshooters and compare them." The young Judge nodded, extending a hand: "Link Svenson, thank you for the reminder."
"Sudel Walden, nice to meet you, Lieutenant Colonel sir." Sudel pulled himself up from the foxhole with his help.
"This time, Mr. Malin is fighting on our eastern front where a large force of Chaos has emerged. He has placed you young people here; I am somewhat acquainted with him." The Judge changed the subject: "It’s not exactly looking after you, after all, in my opinion, should the defensive line be breached, you are more likely to survive longer than I."
"Sir, please don’t say that, we won’t retreat unless absolutely necessary," Sudel awkwardly said.
Before leaving, Mr. Malin gave Sudel and the other young men the command to retreat at will and communicated with the local commander. After seeing their marksmanship, the commander confirmed their orders to freely retreat—as soldiers who could hit targets over five hundred yards away in the head were Sharpshooters among Sharpshooters, and the Northern Kingdom’s military would typically relocate such soldiers to the rear to train recruits.
So their retreat isn’t something to complain about; it wouldn’t do to let the future Sharpshooter instructors die in such a godforsaken place.
"I am not jealous of anything, Sudel; people are different. I am both a Noble and a military Judge, and my mission is to stand at the front lines, whereas you all are Sharpshooters, and shouldn’t suffer losses here." The Judge smiled and waved his hand as he lit a cigarette for himself: "Speaking of which, the military strength of Chaos is growing. Thanks to Mr. Malin’s support, the arrival of new firearms and artillery has greatly armed us. Otherwise, according to my grandfather’s words, at least one of me and my brother should have been lost by now."
Sudel fell silent—indeed, his father had told him of the horrors of Chaos, and the stories of the Tide of the Dead were nightmares of Sudel’s childhood. When the last Tide of the Dead started, the Northern Kingdom didn’t even have enough muzzle-loading firearms. Fortunately, the invaders at that time were underlings of an Evil God who sought extreme sensory experiences, making swords and bayonets not entirely useless. If it were Nagoth’s army this time, the Northern Kingdom would have been utterly incapable of resisting the invasion.
Even so, humanity still paid a heavy toll, just as the young military Judge of the Svenson family said. It’s not news that a family loses a whole generation of young ones; it actually makes news when several from a generation survive—because that means these young people have sufficient strength. For other families, it’s time to marry off their young daughters wholesale.
Don’t laugh, at the end of the Tide of the Dead, the ratio of young unmarried men to women is usually around one to twenty.
In some areas that have experienced bloody battles, a ratio of one to thirty is pitifully common, so if the girls can’t be married off quickly, they will eventually become unsold goods, ending their lives filled with resentment.
Thus, during this period, it’s not unheard of for a Noble’s daughter to marry a commoner’s child. A powerful being like Mr. Malin, if he does not accept marriage from hundreds of Noble daughters, it would be a crime. , almost a century passed, and when the male-to-female imbalance had almost evened out, a new invasion began.
"This invasion has come early," Sudel said as he took out a piece of candy and put it in his mouth.
"But our equipment has also been updated. On the defensive line you’re at, from yesterday to today, only a little over two hundred people have died in battle. This kind of low death toll after such intense fighting is unheard of in historical records. To add a zero behind the death count is considered underreporting." Link Svenson spoke with a laugh: "This is probably what Mr. Malin means when he says that times have changed. My grandfather initially thought the military report was a lie until he saw us, over twenty grandchildren, go through so many days without a single death, and he gradually came to believe the military report."
"Because the dead don’t lie." Sudel’s words were a proverb from the North, clear in its meaning. But because it rings so true, it has become widely known.