Chapter 837: The flames

Krass Brauner discovered the tracks first. At that time he and his guys had just removed a stone from the front of the plow, and then he bent his waist and stretched his cramped muscles, feeling that every section of the spine burned like coal.
At this moment, he looked up at the hot metal in the summer sky and caught hundreds of traces of them piercing the sky, falling like a lightning tearing the sky.
Soon, the spreading clouds obscured the sunlight.
All those who worked in the field put down their hands and looked at everything that was coming.
The war is coming to Quellet.
Quillett, a town 120 kilometers from Tyre, is unremarkable. The surrounding farms produce a lot of vegetables to feed Tyre. A railway passes through the town, but since the war broke out, this railway It was shut down.
Brauner traced the lines of the clouds, they should not fall on his farm, nor on the farm of Nastuma.
But it will not be too far away, not to mention that the gadgets are constantly landing, their number will make the distance meaningless.
"Let everyone go back to the house."
He told his foreman Randy Trek.
"Close the corral, distribute weapons, wait for me here."
"Yes, Colonel."
Colonel
He has been away from this status for 20 years, and Randy Trek has left the soldier's post for about the same time.
The last war between them and their robes was still in Uhu, the western province of the empire. After surviving, they were able to retire and get their due reward in Quellet.
Although Brauner no longer manages his men by rank, some deep-rooted habits are difficult to remove, and wars follow suit.
In recent years, there have been battles every month and there is no peace.
It's all because of green skin.
Although he has never fought against such monsters and never killed one, from various reports and correspondence with friends, he knows that this is a race that is barbaric to no end.
A pest that will destroy everything.
Today, their ranks seem to be back in battle again.
He ran to the damaged tractor, drove the classic car through his field, and drove straight to the farm in Nastum, bouncing up and down all the way with the plow marks on the stone and barren soil.
Quillett may have been like a promised paradise to soldiers in service decades ago, but its idyllic style is no longer there.
This agricultural area is still rich in products, but it has long been overwhelmed.
The nutrients in the land are gradually squeezed out during over-planting. Although a large amount of chemical fertilizers produced in the state-owned factories of the empire greatly promoted production, they have also gradually eroded and destroyed the hard work of all farmers.
Brauner didn't like that kind of fertilizer. He smelled the corpse in it. Some people said he was suspicious, but the veteran was more willing to believe his intuition.
Just like he didn't like the shadow prince and his tyranny.
It’s all bastard!
He drove for about 20 minutes, traversing two farms and a large area of ​​thriving valley until he reached the edge of Nastuma Farm.
He guessed right, he saw her, a firm silhouette, looking at the track left by the intruder.
A rare female soldier, looking in her forties, she nodded as he approached, but her eyes stayed with those tracks for a moment.
"Hello, Colonel."
"You are the same, Colonel."
He also responded, standing beside her.
"What do you think?"
"It looks like some kind of weapon."
"Ok's."
He agreed that the trajectory now covers the entire sky, and the green skin is obviously here to capture the entire Tyre.
"They will take everything away. Is there any news from Tyre?"
The regional capital is about 120 kilometers away from here. It is said that millions of refugees have been gathered there. Brauner has also helped many people fleeing from the south. Their miserable behavior is really stimulating to tears, especially those who have lost their ancestors to cultivate the world. Farmers, their heartbreakers
Brauner felt the same.
But the gnomes who stayed in the magnificent palace of Tyre were obviously helpless against the looting of Ok, and Brauner now no longer counts on the support of the army, but he still wants to know about other places.
Nastuma sighed.
"I just listened to the radio, and Tyre just issued a warning about it."
"The news outside?"
"Malague has no news."
Then this small town on the south is obviously over.
"How about Gul?"
"Howling."
Unsurprisingly, this is a slightly larger town, but to Brauner’s knowledge, there is only one brigade of militia.
"They are attacking everywhere."
"should be."
They watched in silence for a while.
In the distance, the first shock wave of landing echoed.
"So"
Brauner whispered.
"So"
Nastuma responded similarly.
"I have never been a good farmer."
"Who is it?"
They looked at each other.
That's right, Brauner thought that two veteran oil sons who absolutely don't want to encounter this kind of thing, covered in old injuries, would feel pain when standing upright, but he still managed to get it.
Nastuma too, but arthritis did not torture her back like he did, but her hands were a bit worse, and she could only maintain a permanent claw shape.
Both have grown white hair, almost as many as wrinkles and scars, and their skin has aged and withered like old bark.
"So"
Brauna repeated.
"So."
"How do we fight them?"
Nastuma kicked a stone at the foot.
"as always."
"Green Skin will never know who killed them."
They smiled at each other, but Brauner felt something stuck in his chest.
Not because of the future war, but because of the idea of ​​death, because Nastuma is dying too.
They are all going to die, and the arrival of Oak confirms this even more.
"Sir, Oak's striker has arrived at Quellet."
In the dim room, a figure was lying on the table, the table was a spread map, pens, rulers and various flags scattered all over the place.
The officer who entered the room hesitated for a while, and finally pushed the sleeping figure.
"Well……"
There was a confused voice under the coat, and then the curtains in the room were pulled open one by one.
It’s been three days since Yushkin sat straight up. At this moment, he is more like a tramp than a empire’s highest frontline commander. Whether it’s unkempt hair or messy stubble is enough to become the opposite of the military’s appearance .
"Sorry... what you just said, can you repeat it, I didn't hear it."
"Oak's striker has reached Quellet."
"Quillette..."
Juskin blinked his blurry eyes, then stood up, swept the debris on the map with his arm, and spent eight seconds to find the location of the town.
"Damn... how could it be so fast."
In an instant, the severe headache that originally relieved him from sleep again caught him again.
Since receiving news of Wengenhe's fiasco, his head has become more and more painful, as if hiding in a messy green skin.
At that moment~EbookFREE.me~ he even felt despair for the first time.
"The Tyre Security Command's request for assistance telegram is today the seventh."
"Ask for help! What do the pigheads know besides for help!"
The angry empire took the telegram from the adjutant's hand and threw it to the ground.
"Once we loosen it here, millions of Ok will rush to their faces!"
"But Tyre over there...General!"
Seeing that Yushkin was shaking suddenly, the adjutant hurried up to help, and the guard outside the door ran in quickly.
Soon, a large circle of people surrounded him.
But Juskin pushed them away and scolded:
"I can't die yet... Send a message! Send a message to Diego! Ask him how he should end now!"