"273... you are all dead, and I can't find anyone who can accept my kindness." Ichiyo Sorayama sprinkled the last handful of soil on the grave and murmured in a low voice.
A huge tomb lies in the center of the valley, and Kazuyo Sorayama's thin figure leans on the stone that serves as a tombstone. If you look at it from a distance, you will see Kazuyo Sorayama standing alone between the sky and the earth, almost blending into the stone.
It's more like a tombstone; when you get closer, you'll find that the dust, sweat and blood all over his body make him look more like an evil ghost crawling out of the grave than a living person.
For a whole day, he tried his best not to miss even a single finger scattered on the ground. Every time he pieced together a corpse with a familiar face and put it into the pit, his heart became numb. This numbness was more like a whetstone, gradually grinding away.
It takes away his little warmth and makes some things that he has buried for a long time become purer.
His aging body could no longer support him for such long-term consumption. Even with Sorayama Kazuyo's control over his body, he could not suppress the waves of dizziness in his brain. However, he still clearly sensed that he had originally thought that he had been consumed.
The pure murderous intention began to brew again.
Kazuyo Sorayama, who has not explored the changes in his own spiritual world and has done everything from his heart, does not want to forcefully stop him, let alone attack the mark belonging to Sanai that seals his soul from the beginning. If even this mark disappears, he will not be able to survive in this world.
All ties may disappear without a trace.
What's the point of continuing the so-called plan to return to Japan in this era by boat? No one still knows me, and no one's life has any intersection with mine. It's just another strange country.
But this does not prevent him from being determined to seek justice for the Cheyenne people!
When you get along with people, you will eventually have intersections. Even if your personality is as cold and ruthless as a leaf in an empty mountain, you can't completely get rid of the shackles. Time and time again, it's like a mortise and tenon knot of fate, making him always trapped in the people and people he most avoids.
Problems in getting along among people.
Perhaps even Sorayama Kazuha himself is not aware that he may still be greedy for the vague warmth in his heart, and does not want to completely forget about wielding the sword and return to the state of his youth when he had nothing but the sword - that is almost Sorayama
A leaf's deepest nightmare.
"Haha..." Kazuyo Sorayama gasped and leaned on the stone tablet and sat down slowly, "Algren, 7th Cavalry Brigade, don't run too far."
Kazuyo Sorayama, who had not slept for two days, began to close his eyes to rest. In his current state, facing more than a hundred regular soldiers armed to the teeth, he was undoubtedly going to die.
This is a war that, once started, can only end with the complete collapse of one side. Kazuyo Sorayama doesn’t know if he can leave this land alive. With his body now covered with hidden wounds, he might really fall to the ground for the Indians.
Man is on his way to complete revenge.
………………
"You idiots, hurry up!" Freckles Second Lieutenant Jim's face was full of impatience, and he waved his riding crop wildly and shouted at the soldiers behind him.
Originally, he forced away his biggest rival and boss, Algren, and made a small fortune by killing Indian tribes. However, he was promoted and valued by his immediate boss, Bagley, and became the second in command of the company. He was about to reach the peak of his life.
But before he could enjoy the sweet fruits of victory, he was given an understatement by the colonel and thrown into the wilderness to collect those damn red clan corpses.
This strong psychological gap allowed Lieutenant Jim to hide a little in front of Bagley. Once he was far away from his command, his gloomy anger began to explode uncontrollably.
"Joy, if I catch you drinking again, I will order Jones to take out his stinky penis and stuff it into your mouth until you drink enough. We are performing a mission. Do you understand that we are performing a mission?"
"Jones, if you don't wipe off the lipstick marks on your pig face, I swear I will tie the oldest and ugliest prostitute in town to you for three days when I go back..."
"Listen, all of you only have two hours. I don't want to stay in a ghost place like this after the sun goes down. If anyone lets me catch him being lazy, you know the consequences..."
The roaring galloping horse could not stop Jim's high-pitched roar, but the effect was still very obvious. The soldiers who were still immersed in alcohol, women, and gambling, while lamenting their misfortune, finally picked up their spirits and ran towards the destination at full speed.
The destination is also the place where all the stories begin - the Cheyenne Indian tribe. They have no idea what a horrific ending awaits them.
"Stop!" Lieutenant Jim stretched out his hand to stop everyone, staring ahead with an ugly expression.
The valley was silent in the afternoon. Unlike the imagined situation of stumps everywhere, vultures and flies flying around, the lonely grave in the valley suddenly appeared in the eyes of the soldiers. Such a strange situation made the soldiers, who had always been bold, tremble.
, he instantly set up his long gun and drew out his pistol, looking around vigilantly.
The soldiers of the 7th Cavalry Brigade who have experienced all kinds of brutal battles in the Civil War are all elites. These soldiers who look more like drunkards, prostitutes, and gamblers determined their tactics with just one look at each other when encountering a battle.
At Lieutenant Jim's signal, they dispersed in a tacit understanding, formed a battle alert formation, and trotted steadily deep into the valley with their horses.
The few people did not rush over in a swarm, which was the style of bandits. Instead, the most agile ones consciously explored the path ahead carefully, and their marksmanship accurately occupied the favorable terrain. As long as they did not encounter several enemy ambushes, they even dared to launch a counterattack.
Defeat the opponent with strict discipline and tactics.
You can get a glimpse of this by knowing that unless you are the elite of the elite, the arrogant Bagley with the rank of major is willing to lead only an independent company in combat.
After a few people made a rough exploration and found no other abnormalities, they finally slowly gathered in front of the tomb that appeared strangely in the center of the village and dismounted to carefully search for clues.
A soldier grabbed the soil, brought it to his mouth, smelled it, frowned and said, "It smells like fresh soil. I bet this soil was dug out in less than an hour."
"And it was done by one person." Another soldier pointed at the footprints on the ground with his toes: "But it looks like he is a very light old man. Look, if the soil is not too soft, the traces are so shallow that they are almost invisible.
Damn it. How could such a weak guy bury so many Hong Fans? Could it be that the bodies of Hong Fans ran in on their own..."
"Shut up! You idiot, one day and one night is enough for vultures to eat a lot. If there are jackals nearby and there are some bones left, these red clans will be lucky." Jim's face was red with anger, making the dark freckles more conspicuous.
He kicked the grave as hard as he could: "It must have been done by some old priest who liked to pretend to be a bad guy when he passed by, so these beasts are lucky!"
"Sir Jim, look... since it's still early, should we search carefully? I heard that Hong Fan is very good at hiding..." A soldier rubbed his hands. Although he said this, his face
The greedy expression on his face clearly betrayed his thoughts.
The other soldiers unanimously showed approval: the last search ended too quickly, there were too many trophies, and there must be many missing. If we just go back empty-handed, God will not forgive us!
"You bastards, don't think that I don't know what you are paying attention to, half an hour! I will only give you half an hour." Lieutenant Freckles took out his golden pocket watch and said impatiently: "If you are late for a few minutes, I will punish you.
You bastard will be detained for a few days, get out of here!"
Looking at the soldiers who were whistling and scattering, Jim held back his curses and sat down on the stone monument. As an officer, he had made a lot of money, so he naturally despised the remaining small coins, but if he forcibly ordered these few
The people just returned to camp, and Jim, who had climbed up from a small soldier step by step, knew that next time there was such a mission, these people would never simply accept the order. He knew very well the routine of these veteran veterans' disobedience overtly and covertly.
In severe cases, the whole company will be criticized for his "harsh" and "stingy" reputation. Although he knows that he has never been very popular, he will never make such low-level mistakes.
From time to time, cheers or jealous curses could be heard nearby. As a few soldiers expanded their search area, the village gradually became quiet.
He impatiently took out a cigar and held it in his mouth. He struck a match on the stone monument under the seat. The pungent smell of sulfur made him frown. Before he could light the cigar, he seemed to feel something.
Second Lieutenant Jim was horrified and stood up suddenly.
What made them subconsciously ignore this tombstone? There were no horse hoof prints around, only shallow human footprints. So how did this white pebble that was half the size of a man and weighed several hundred kilograms appear from the river a few hundred meters away?
here!
A layer of cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He bent down and rubbed it. Under the scorching sun, the pebbles that had been washed away by the river water revealed a line of white scratches in the shadow that were not obvious. Jim stared at the scratches, a
Word by word: "Don't worry, I won't keep you waiting for too long..."
"Joy! Jones! Everyone, come back!" A high-pitched voice with a vibrato was squeezed out of Jim's throat, like a hen whose throat was strangled and about to be drained.
The only response to him was his own deformed echo in the valley, and the soldiers' rude laughter and curses had disappeared without a trace at some point.
The second lieutenant took out his pistol and pulled the trigger toward the sky, and he fired all the bullets in one breath - this was a signal that would only appear when facing an extreme crisis! Any soldier who heard this signal must respond with gunshots, proving that
Support from him arrived immediately, but after the gunfire ended, the village was still enveloped in deathly silence.
They...the five elite soldiers just disappeared without any movement...Jesus Christ!
Second Lieutenant Jim, who believed in power and money far more than God, trembled and murmured the name of the supreme god in his heart. Without getting any feedback, he ran up to the horse in two steps and shook off the reins. Not daring to look at the tomb again, he used the fastest speed in his life.
Running towards the mouth of the valley at a fast speed.
"Save me!" The second lieutenant closed his lips tightly and screamed in his heart, unable to think of any resistance.
Behind him, it seemed that countless dead Indian souls appeared above the graves, staring at his back with eyes that did not belong to this world, expressing only one will - you will be with us soon...