Chapter 233: Deadly Dawn (3)

17:10 6:10:51
The sky in the east turned into bruising purple.
Captain Locke asked the company to camp and wait for the notice. Their schedule was postponed, but this did not mean that soldier Ren could leave the camp to meet his wife.
"The above said that it was on standby without exception."
He said so, and then his attitude became slightly Microsoft-like.
"Sorry, Rennes, I know your original plan."
Rennes sat down and leaned on a cargo board. He gradually thought that he could only see Sergeant Rock's face for the next two years of his life, and never saw Evelyn again.
This is completely contrary to the facts.
"Is that singing?"
Kafka asked, he stood up.
"That's singing,"
Locke replied.
Rennes also heard that, two hundred meters away, the camp on the other side of the fence belonged to a unit that arrived with the 7th Guards Division. It is said that it was the 1st Special Division 3rd Infantry Regiment, but they looked Like a group of ragged rabble, it is the kind of unemployed wandering from a certain backcountry, who closely follows the officers they don't know at all.
When they appeared, they were generally criticized by Locke's guns, which involved dress, formation, equipment maintenance, and queue discipline.
"Oh, it's shameful."
Locke said he lit a cigarette and watched the people pouring out of the barracks.
"They look like a bunch of homeless people, just like some horror hog in the horns, some farce that should have been shot by a corrupt criminal!"
The foreign soldiers really don't look very good. They are ragged and have a savage atmosphere on them, as if they lack something important for a long time. Their skin is pale and their bodies are thin, like plants growing in dark caves.
"And maybe that's what we need..."
Locke added.
"...The perfect bullet shield."
They are singing and chanting, it is not a sound that makes people feel comfortable or happy, it has no rhythm.
It's actually pretty ugly.
"This must stop."
Locke said that he stamped out the cigarette butts with his heels.
He had to cross the camp to talk to the other's commander. The singing made him very upset, but a heavy rain interrupted his plan.
17:10, 6:14
Raindrops fell through the dry air like a bullet.
Silas drove a black car on the Essina Highway, and the black glass-like rain fell on the hatch of his car.
Everything is gray—dry land, dusty metal, and dust clouds rising from vehicle engines.
The flat area was pale and gray, the sky strangely gloomy, and Nutans, who was sitting in the passenger seat, could see the green silhouettes of the distant hills.
A heavy rain is sweeping from the south.
Nutans believes that there will soon be a mess, the light is very strange, the sky is very strange, but the ground is very bright, the raindrops look like glass, like teardrops.
The raindrops hit the dry ground, hitting the avenue and the shoulder of the road. All surfaces were smeared with black water marks, leaving millions of small black wounds, small black craters, and small white dust. cloud.
In the distance, meandering silver lightning swam through the low clouds, as if bright veins buried in coal.
This is a four-seater vehicle, and its speed and stability are far better than that of a horse-drawn carriage. Nutans specifically applied it for transportation today-he and the guys around him are secret guards cursed by countless people.
And Silas driving it is like a neuropathy.
He maintained a near-limiting horizontal speed, leaving a cluster of white smoke on the flat and straight road behind them. The rain tried to wet the thick dust, but to no avail.
There is a road map hanging on the left of the driver, and the steering wheel is protected by leather to prevent wear and tear.
The dark line is the highway, and a pattern at the bottom of the map is Cusconal's southern station, while at the top is a triangular sign.
"slower."
Nutans turned and whispered.
"too fast?"
Silas replied that his voice was full of eager joy.
Nutans didn't even lower his head, he knocked on the glass on the right.
Silas glanced at what he saw and immediately slowed down.
They caught up with the tail of a rallying team, and as they slowly slowed down, they rushed into the dust cloud raised by the rumbling team.
Silas turned to the side, crossed the center of the road, and started overtaking.
The horse-drawn carriages and wagons are full, and the vehicles with the military logo pass by them and fall behind. Each one is in this strange light, in the air full of dry dust and wet rain There was a flash.
The imperial army soldiers sitting in a truck cheered and waved to them.
Silas made a sound, like a grunt.
He was shocked by something.
He slowed down again.
This is a group of sorcerers. They are riding the same transportation as they are and driving down the highway towards the city.
The weird sunlight hit their cockpit, and there was a kind of light, cold light in their eyes, these wizards hidden their faces under the hood, and Silas could see nothing.
Nutans looked involuntarily, watching them passing by, and he was also shocked. Forty-seven cars, when will Sanwu have such a good hand?
Silas, who was in a hurry to escape, had already avoided the convoy, and now the roadside was crowded with transport carriages on standby, so he detoured further, crossed the roadside, and drove into the field outside the road, and began to accelerate again. , Raising the tail of a gray dust cloud.
The engines roared heavily, and they moved parallel to the highway.
Nutans looked back.
Are the wizards really sitting in these cars? What exactly is under their hood?
Where are they going so anxious?
17:10 6:21:40
Creed Foster has a knife, but now it is not very practical, he chose to use his own gun~EbookFREE.me~ Those guys must die neatly and have no time to mess up with the knife.
Outside the house, the officer he appointed was leading everyone to sing, and the chanting sounded all around. They brought the piano, drums, flutes, horns, and bells, which best seemed like a celebration.
On the eve of the war, the esteemed allies, the upcoming glory, and other similar bullshits, it would be better to sound cheerful.
It is true, but Creedferst heard the melody of the ritual in the noisy song. The reason why he can hear it is because he knows that the melody is hidden in the ancient words, which is very old before humans learn to speak. Words, great words, you can use any rhythm to match them, even if it is the majestic military song of the Imperial Army.
The singing is very loud, which is spectacular enough, there are six thousand people in the corner of this assembly site alone, which is enough to cover his gunshots.
He pulled the trigger.
The dark grey pistol roared, trembling in his hand, knocking a bullet into the head it was clinging tightly to, the blood splattered, sprinkled on the front of his coat, and the man kneeling on the ground fell over, as if It was the heavy head pierced by the hole that dragged him down.
There was a smell of diesel in the air, and the smell of burnt flesh.
Creed Foster looked down at the man he had just executed and whispered in prayer, as if to say goodbye to a traveler who was about to embark on a long and difficult road.
This time, the relief he gave was almost too late. The man's eyes had begun to melt. He was a wizard, a dangerous element capable of transmitting information through the mind.
Creed Foster nodded, and the two adjutants stepped forward to drag the body away, so that the bodies of seven wizards were already lying on the ground beside them.
Everything is going according to plan.