Dual wielding volcanoes, killing through the west

Gunfire raged all night, finally silencing at four in the morning. Many people hadn't slept all night, speculating about what had happened, with everyone saying the army had finally made its move. Then, just as dawn broke, news from the front lines arrived, exceeding everyone's expectations.

Even Jarvis himself, let alone them, is still reeling from the shock. He finds it all too unreal, too bizarre. A well-trained, disciplined army fighting against a Native American tribe, suffering a crushing defeat, with the vast majority of its soldiers dying there—it's utterly absurd. You wouldn't even dream of something like this.

But now, it has actually happened, and as a colonel, he is a witness to it all.

Those who survived were fleeing in a panic, without time to pack anything, not even a horse. In that situation, even a slight slowness could mean being trampled to death; there was no time to think. Jaworth ran for almost a whole night. At first, a few people followed him, but as he ran, they gradually scattered.

I didn't sleep all night, I felt dizzy and my heart was pounding.

As the adrenaline wore off, he felt himself about to collapse and knew he needed to replenish his energy. He discarded his military uniform, trousers, and boots—everything that proved he was a soldier—and pulled out the last few dollars he had, ordering some things at a pub.

The townspeople were chattering about the war, while he huddled in a corner, afraid to make a sound lest he be noticed.

After mechanically finishing his meal, Jaworth couldn't even taste what it was like; he only felt it was incredibly bitter.

Are you still alive?

Perhaps, at least for now, it's still blinking, panting, and breathing.

but……

Am I really still alive?

……

He took out the die he always carried with him, placed it in his palm, and rubbed it repeatedly between his fingers, muttering, "Great, almighty, and merciful God, I am your faithful servant. Please grant me protection, send your messengers to my side, and help me escape from this sea of ​​suffering."

"My demands are not high, really, not high at all. Just let me go back to my old life, that's enough..."

He gently tossed the dice down, afraid that the sound of them hitting the table would attract attention.

In fact, nobody cared about him at all.

"Clap!"

a little.

"Oh...no...no! No!! No!" Javos's expression collapsed in an instant. The exhaustion and tension of fleeing all night tormented his mind. But he dared not shout too loudly. Banging on the table and yelling were things he absolutely could not do.

So he grabbed his hair and ripped it off, tearing a small strand out.

Blood was still stained at the roots of his hair, but he could no longer feel the pain. If this little bit of pain could earn him God's mercy, he would have plucked all his hair without hesitation.

“Just now… just now I was too greedy, please forgive me, I had reached… a dead end, those red barbarians…”

Jaworth took a deep breath, picked up the dice again, and muttered to himself, "I was too greedy, it was my fault. I... I don't expect to go back to the past, it's impossible."

"I'm not going to fight for anything anymore. I'll just... go home and live a peaceful life as a wealthy man, spending the rest of my days like that. Is that alright?"

pat!

a little.

"..." Jaworth's pupils dilated, and he took a breath in near despair. By his standards, he had lowered his expectations as much as they could possibly be. In truth, he might not have been particularly devout to God, but at this moment, no one could tell him anymore, "Everything will be alright."

He could only ask God, again and again, humbly pleading.

"I know... I know, even... even just an ordinary life, I can accept it. Please, I want a slightly more dignified ending, leave me something, don't take it all away..."

……

The dice fell from his trembling hand.

a little.

----

Three times in a row, some people noticed Jaworth muttering to himself as he rolled the dice, but no one paid him any attention.

Gamblers are everywhere; it's nothing new. From the time when gods were worshipped to the time when they weren't, they were all part of the same underworld. Nobody would spend too much attention on a gambler.

……

"Ah..." Jaworth let out a desperate wail, finally closing his eyes and holding the dice in his hand for the last time. "I understand... I understand now..."

"I just want to live."

"Anything is fine as long as I can survive."

This time, he hesitated for a long time about how to face this point of despair.

"Clap!"

The dice slipped off the edge of the table and fell to the ground. Jarvis's heart leaped into his throat, and he crawled under the table to see his fate.

This time, it's six o'clock.

Before he could even rejoice, Jaworth, who was crouching under the table, saw a pair of horse legs stop outside the tavern.

Chapter 699: You Lost Everything

Before even stepping inside the shop, the moment they saw their own faces and skin tones, the previously lively discussion abruptly ceased. Everyone consciously turned their heads away, avoiding eye contact, and pretended to be busy. Even the tavern owner behind the long table began wiping the tabletops, trying to avoid any eye contact with him.

Flying Eagle was somewhat helpless.

He didn't usually frequent this tavern, but he had been to this town a few times, and each time he was met with disdain. Even if he was just passing through, even if he didn't have any interaction with these people, he couldn't help but be given a disapproving look, as if there was a clump of dog poop on his clothes that was attracting flies.

That kind of genuine disgust cannot be faked.

Now, disgust has turned into fear.

He thought he would have a great time, but when the time came, it didn't feel so great.

These people, from the very beginning until now, have never regarded themselves or their fellow human beings as beings they can "communicate with," but rather as animals. They were simply "backward and barbaric animals" before, and now they are "fierce and terrifying beasts," nothing more.

However, now is not the time to dwell on these things.

He shoved the captured soldier and said coldly, "Take a good look, is this it?"

The push wasn't hard, but the soldier staggered a few steps, almost losing his balance and falling. Eagle hadn't put any ropes or handcuffs on him, but his current state was not much different from a drowning dog. His body trembled involuntarily, his pupils dilated with fear, and he stammered.

Put yourself in their shoes; those who survived that kind of battlefield would very likely suffer from PTSD.

But the people in the tavern didn't know the specifics of the battlefield; they only saw the soldiers' horrific state, which made them even more convinced that the rumors were true. He must have seen something inhuman, like voodoo or curses, to be so terrified. It was easy to imagine that the rumors would spread even more wildly in the future.

……

"No...not here..." the soldier replied tremblingly after looking around several times.

"Not here?" Flying Eagle frowned. "Are you sure? This is the only town within a hundred miles that can be used for supplies."

"I! I checked it several times, I'm sure!" He seemed to be greatly frightened, his voice almost screaming, "It's really not there, it's really not there!"

In this situation, regardless of his reasons, he had no reason to lie. Flying Eagle believed him and turned to say in a low voice, "Zhang, he's not here. Is it possible that he's already exhausted and died somewhere along the way?"

……

Zhang Renfeng did not answer, but started walking around the tavern as if he were strolling in his own backyard.

No one dared to stop him.

Especially when everyone realized from his body language that he was the real leader of this small group, they dared not interfere even more. Zhang Renfeng wandered around the tavern, while Javos, hiding under a table, tightly gripped the dice in his hand, barely daring to breathe. Only when those legs had circled around and finally disappeared from sight did he secretly breathe a sigh of relief.

They're finally gone...

However, the next second, a face appeared in front of him without warning, with a strange smile on its face, and met his eyes.

"ah----!!"

Jarvis's face turned as white as wax. He abruptly stood up, slamming his head heavily against the table. Before everyone's eyes, he crawled out from under the table like a dog, utterly humiliated. He wanted to escape, but didn't know where to go, and just sat there, dazed and listless.

"Is it him?" Eagle asked.

“I’m not…I’m not…” Jarworth said in an almost pleading tone.

"Yes...it's him!" The captured soldier didn't hesitate for a second and immediately betrayed Javos, nodding like a dog pounding onions, as if he was even more afraid than Zhang Renfeng and Flying Eagle that Javos would escape from his grasp. "I can't be wrong, it's him. I've seen him several times, I can't be wrong!"

Zhang Renfeng gave him a somewhat frightening smile and casually placed his hand on his shoulder.

----

"No...no—!!"

Bound hand and foot, Javos was laid sideways on the horse's back, back in this nightmare-like place. He screamed in utter terror, like a fish on a chopping board, struggling a few more times before death. But Zhang Renfeng's casual remark extinguished any thought of him continuing to struggle.

"I advise you to take it easy. Falling off a horse and breaking your spine is the least of your worries."

"..." Thinking of the horrific sight of a broken spine, Jaworth finally calmed down, but he couldn't help looking at the gruesome battlefield.

A night passed, but the pent-up emotions still hadn't dissipated; it seemed to have seeped into the soil and vegetation.

Several members of the High Tree tribe were clearing the battlefield, mainly collecting weapons.

Although the battle was incredibly ugly, the weapons, bullets, and daggers they carried were still genuine military equipment, quite effective. These were all high-quality items that the tribes couldn't produce at the moment. As for the corpses, they were moved to other locations.

The corpses that had been inoculated with the Rufous strain were carefully gathered together, buried in a deep pit, and then burned.

----

Jaworth could never have imagined that he would end up in this way, like prey hanging on a horse's back, entering the tall tree in utter humiliation.

Tribal members are holding a feast to celebrate this victory.

When they saw the spoils on horseback, the cheers and applause that erupted were almost deafening, shaking the entire forest. Jarvis's heart sank. As the instigator of the war, he had been taken prisoner and brought to the victor's camp. What could be worse than this?

But how could it be?

He stared intently, making sure he hadn't missed a single detail: the tents, the treehouses—they were no different from those of other tribes. How could his army of over a thousand, heavily armed, possibly be defeated by such a primitive tribe? Where was justice?

……

"It's you……"

After ruling out all possibilities, Jarworth finally understood. He turned his head with all his might to look at the horse's owner, his voice filled with disbelief, "You helped them defeat me! Why? Why!"

"Who are you?"

Zhang Renfeng didn't answer his question. He dismounted, secured the leash, then grabbed Jiawosi by the back of the neck and tossed him into a closed room like trash. Jiawosi's head slammed heavily on the ground with a thud, and he nearly fainted, seeing stars.

The noise gradually faded away.

He didn't move, but remained in that position, lying awkwardly on the ground, breathing in the air mixed with the smell of soil and grass roots.

He himself found it unbelievable when he said it—the moment he was caught, he finally felt relieved and could finally be temporarily freed from this constant pressure.

The only question now is how he will die; we can just wait and see.

……

"Well, well, let's see who's here."

A mocking voice came from not far away, startling him awake.

"Father?!" Jarworth exclaimed in surprise, sitting up from the ground.

“You lost.” Ryan sat in the corner of the cabin, his hair disheveled and his face covered in soot. In his memory, this man had never looked so disheveled.

"We've lost everything."

Chapter 700: Such a miracle will not happen again.

"call……"

For the first time in front of everyone, Flying Eagle showed a relaxed posture, leaning his backpack against the back of his chair. Although it was just a small gesture, Zhang Renfeng had spent several days with him, during which he had constantly observed this young and brave Native American tribesman.

All along, Flying Eagle had always given him the feeling of a taut bowstring, ready to shoot an arrow and pierce through the opponent at any time.

Now, we can finally relax a little.

The party continued into the night, and the pent-up emotions definitely needed to be released.

The young people of the Hightree tribe are continuing their somewhat frenzied victory celebration with the Ramoen raiders who have come from afar to provide support.

Now, they are comrades-in-arms who fought side by side. The friendship forged in the flames of war is the strongest, transcending external factors such as race, language, and skin color. At this moment, the two groups have truly merged together, no longer distinguishing themselves from each other or being prejudiced by skin color.

Of course, there were also casualties on Takagi's side during the war, which was unavoidable.

However, with the strong support of Zhang Renfeng and his group, the casualty ratio was kept to a minimum, so small as to be negligible compared to the enemy who were almost completely annihilated.

That alone is enough to make for a proper celebration. The sounds of people laughing and joking carried through the tree bark into the house and to this table.

The eagle's tightly furrowed brows finally relaxed.

Won.