Mercenary I am the king

Chapter 941 Embers
Asara Town, Wakna Mercenary Temporary Command Post.

The simple room was filled with the smell of disinfectant and blood.

The cook's wound had been retreated by the medic and he was on an IV drip. He sat back on his cot, still pale, but in better spirits.

Utkin and Jiang Feng sat to one side.

"So... they sacrificed their lives to save us?"

Knowing everything, the cook's voice was hoarse, and his eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

“Yes…” Utkin nodded.

"Don't fucking talk such discouraging things!"

The cook growled in frustration and slammed his fist on the ammunition box next to him with a dull thud.

"I want to see him alive or dead! I don't believe he's just gone like that! Gelby Hill is so big, the bombing will cover it all, what if he managed to escape?!"

Jiang Feng remained relatively calm, but his eyes were equally grave: "We tried all encrypted channels, including the emergency backup frequency, but there was no response. Satellite images of the bombed area... a complete blackout, with almost no signs of life. I've already reported this to Ferrari, and he shares your opinion—unbelievable..."

He couldn't continue; his throat felt like it was stuffed with a lump of numbness, making him feel suffocated.

Under such saturation bombing, the chances of survival were slim.

The cook closed his eyes, his chest heaving violently a few times.

A few seconds later, he opened his eyes: "Tsar, take me to Mount Gelby! Now! Immediately!"

“Now?!” Utkin was stunned.

The cook's tone was absolutely firm: "Now!"

Forty minutes later, on the southern slope of Mount Gelby.

The scene before them caused even seasoned veterans like Utkin and Jiang Feng, as well as the cook with his arm in a sling, intense physical discomfort and profound emotional shock.

The air was filled with a strong, nauseating smell of burning, the stench of burnt protein, and the lingering odor of gunpowder.

As far as the eye can see, the entire hillside looks as if it has been repeatedly plowed by a giant plow and then covered with a thick layer of asphalt.

The once jagged rocks were melted by high temperatures and then re-solidified, presenting a bizarre and distorted glass-like appearance.

The ground was covered with a thick layer of grayish-white dust—the ashes of bones that had settled after rocks, soil, and... human tissues had been completely vaporized under high temperature and pressure.

There was no intact body.

Only charred, carbonized limbs, twisted metal weapon fragments, and clothing torn to shreds by the shockwave, scattered across the scorched earth like hellish garbage.

Occasionally, one can see a relatively "complete" charred corpse, maintaining the posture of struggling in agony before death, with empty eye sockets staring at the sky.

"vomit……"

The cook could no longer hold it in and began to vomit violently.

Utkin's face turned ashen, and he clenched his jaw so hard it made a grinding sound.

Jiang Feng silently surveyed this land of death.

They searched along the barely recognizable paths that had once led up the mountain.

The higher you go, the more obvious the signs of battle become.

Although severely damaged by the bombing, one can still see rocks riddled with bullet holes, most of the scattered shell casings melted and deformed, and some makeshift firing positions constructed using natural shelters.

These locations were chosen with extreme cunning, guarding the most dangerous and difficult-to-deploy vantage points.

"look here!"

Jiang Feng pointed to a huge, relatively sheltered rock depression.

On the ground, there were more than a dozen empty AK-12 magazines scattered around, along with several unopened magazine pouches and an empty medical kit.

On the stone wall, there were several deep, dark brown scratches—bloodstains left by the wounded when they leaned against it.

"It must be him..."

Utkin crouched down, picked up a deformed cartridge case, and made a muffled sound.

"How many people did one person kill while guarding this place?"

He looked down at the charred "corpse blanket" stretching all the way to the mountainside, and the answer was self-evident.

They eventually reached the edge of the mountaintop, near the southern cliff.

The bombing marks here are slightly lighter than those on the outskirts, but it's still a mess.

Jiang Feng's gaze was like a searchlight, carefully searching every inch of the land.

Suddenly, amidst the rubble and scorched earth, he discovered a small piece of cloth that had been scorched by the high temperature.

He bent down and picked it up, only to find that it was a fragment left behind by a tactical vest. Judging from the color, it should be a fragment left behind by the sand-colored quick-release tactical vest used by Song Heping.

"It's his tactical vest..."

Jiang Feng's voice trembled slightly, carrying a hint of hope.

He walked quickly to the edge of the cliff and peered down.

Below lies the calm and gentle Hailgan River, winding through a deep canyon.

"He jumped! He took off his tactical vest before jumping, and he had a low-altitude parachute in his backpack!"

Utkin also saw the fragments, and slammed his huge fist into the rock next to him, his eyes flashing with light.

"Damn it! I knew it! That bastard wouldn't die so easily! There's no body here at all! There are fragments here, which means he must have jumped in when he got here! Quick! Go to the river! Search along the river!"

Nighttime, lower reaches of the Hailergan River, Urda village, Faris's house.

A severe headache and excruciating pain throughout his body pulled Song Heping back to reality from a deep coma.

He struggled to open his heavy eyelids, and his blurry vision gradually focused.

What comes into view is a low, blackened adobe roof, with a dim kerosene lamp flickering in the corner.

A strange, herbal smell filled the air...

By the way, there's more...

A faint aroma of food.

He tried to move, but a sharp pain shot through his ribs and left leg, causing him to groan involuntarily.

"Oh! He's awake! Dad! He's awake!"

A clear, surprised child's voice rang out.

Song Heping turned his head with difficulty and saw a little girl, about seven or eight years old, wearing a faded old dress, lying by the bed. Her big, clear eyes, like the water of the Hailegan River, looked at him with curiosity and a little fear.

Her hair was somewhat dry and yellow, her face was thin, but her eyes were bright.

Immediately afterwards, a thin, dark-skinned, middle-aged man strode in, carrying a chipped earthenware bowl filled with steaming, thin wheat paste.

"Thank God! You're finally awake!"

The man's voice was hoarse, with a heavy local accent, but his tone was full of concern. "Don't move around. Although you're not seriously injured, you're still very weak. Here, have something to drink first."

This man is Faris, and the little girl is his daughter, Sayina.

With Faris’s careful help, Song Heping managed to drink a few mouthfuls of warm wheat porridge.

It was bland and tasteless, even with a slightly rough texture, but it was like a refreshing spring for a parched and burning throat and an empty stomach.

"You... saved me?"

Song Heping's voice was hoarse, like sandpaper being rubbed.

Faris gave a simple smile. "Saina found you while gathering firewood by the river and dragged you back. My name is Faris. This is Urda Village, not far from Volgai Town." He paused, his smile turning bitter.

"The war... destroyed everything. There's nothing good in the house, just this little bit of wheat..."

He pointed to the bowl, his eyes filled with weariness and helplessness at this endless disaster.

"Are you a mercenary?"

Faris cautiously probed Song Heping's identity.

Song Heping looked down at his clothes.

The clothes are still there.

It's just a combat uniform.

He immediately understood Faris's concerns and comforted him, "I'm from a defense company, you could call me a mercenary, but I'm not here to get involved in your war. I'm here to rescue a friend who's trapped in Asara."

Faris said, "Ashala? It's full of 1515 people."

Song Heping said, "Yes, I almost died at their hands yesterday."

He did not reveal any further details.

After all, you can't talk to this man about the CIA and MI6.

Whether the other party can understand is another matter, and it will only cause trouble for you.

However, Song Heping believes that few people like an organization like the 1515 armed group.

Sure enough, Faris's eyes lit up: "You fought a battle with the people of 1515?"

Song Heping could tell from his eyes that Faris had become even closer to him.

"That's right, I was injured, I fell into the river, and the river carried me here."

“Oh! It’s God’s blessing. When my daughter saw you, she thought she saw a corpse. Luckily, you raised your head slightly, and she realized you were alive. She rushed home to tell me.”

"Thank you, I will remember your life-saving grace."

Song Heping was indeed very grateful to Faris.

Otherwise, it's hard to say whether I'll die in the wilderness, and if someone else finds me, I don't know what the consequences will be.

Perhaps Faris didn't even know who the Easterner in front of him was; he just thought Song Heping was being polite.

He was very curious as to why Song Heping was fluent in Arabic.

The two chatted casually for a while.

Faris was clearly very talkative, perhaps afraid of ending the conversation and making the atmosphere awkward.

He began to ramble on about what the village used to be like, about his relatives who died in the war, and about the hardships they faced in order to survive.

Every word felt like a heavy stone weighing on Song Heping's heart.

This is not his war; he can leave at any time.

But it is a hell from which these ordinary people cannot escape.

Song Heping listened silently, feeling the slight strength slowly returning to his body.

He needs to get in touch with the outside world as soon as possible.

We must leave as soon as possible.

Staying here is not a good thing for this village.

Too many people want their lives, too many people want to know if they are really dead or alive.

The heads of top intelligence agencies will not feel at ease until their bodies are found or even their DNA is verified.

"Brother Faris."

He interrupted the other person.

"Where is a phone nearby? I need to contact my friends; they must be looking for me."

Faris's bitterness deepened: "Telephone? The communications facilities were destroyed last year. Now, if you want to make a call, you have to go to the black market at the east end of Volgai town. There's a merchant there secretly doing business using satellite phones, but..."

He shook his head and said, "It's more than eight kilometers away from our village, and the road... isn't safe. Besides, phone calls there are very expensive, extremely expensive."

His eyes revealed a look of helplessness.

Eight kilometers...

Not too far.

It's true that things weren't very peaceful along the way.

We need to plan our route carefully to avoid any unexpected events along the way.

He only had a butterfly knife on him now; he had thrown away everything else. Before contacting Jiang Feng and the others, it was best to keep a low profile as much as possible.

Therefore, he decided to leave the village early the next morning to avoid any unforeseen complications.

The next morning, it was just dawn.

Song Heping felt he had regained some strength, although every step caused excruciating pain in his wounds, but he couldn't wait any longer.

He refused Faris's suggestion that he rest longer, took out $500 from the waterproof bag he had on him and gave it to Faris as a reward, then prepared to set off for Volgai.

He changed into a worn but clean local men's robe that Faris had found, covering the marks of his tactical equipment, and accepted the scarf Faris gave him to cover his head and face.

After dressing up, it was difficult to tell from his appearance that he was a foreigner, so he felt relieved and said goodbye.

To conceal his tracks, Song Heping deliberately avoided the main road and instead chose to take the side streets near it.

Less than a kilometer from the village, Song Heping climbed a low sand ridge, looked south to observe the road leading to Volgai, and planned his next move.

Suddenly, his eyes sharpened, and he quickly lowered his body, lying on the sand ridge like a sand lizard.

On the dusty road in the distance, three dilapidated armored pickup trucks were kicking up clouds of yellow dust as they sped toward the village of Urda.

Song Heping had excellent eyesight, and the weather was also good today, so he could clearly see that the truck bed was crowded with armed men holding various rifles, with headscarves or wearing tattered helmets, and the weapons reflected an ominous light in the sunlight.

"grass!"

Song Heping's heart sank.

At this time and in this place, an armed convoy heading straight for a small village is definitely not a good sign!
robbery?

Conscripting men?
Or worse?

Are they here to search for themselves?
A difficult problem suddenly appeared before us.

To go or not to go?
If you don't see all of this, you can use the terrain as cover to avoid them and continue to Volgai town to find the phone.

But the father and daughter of the Faris rescued him, giving him food and shelter.

If they just leave like this, what will happen to this fragile village, and to that kind father and daughter?
It is completely uncertain.

If these guys really are here to search for me.

Then Faris and his daughter will definitely suffer.

Although he never liked meddling in other people's business, the Faris father and daughter were his saviors.

This matter cannot be ignored.

Song Heping did not hesitate any longer, a cold determination flashing in his eyes.

He abandoned his plan to go to town, turned around and used the undulating sand dunes and sparse bushes as cover, and made his way back as fast as he could, stealthily heading towards the village of Urda.

You have to pay for the life you owe!
(End of this chapter)