It was supposed to be a casual game, but the Long March dungeon brought tears to everyone's eye

Hawkeye wasn't surprised that the enemy was waiting in ambush at the exit of the grassland.

Although, if they were truly enemy cavalry or a search party, they would undoubtedly die if they encountered them in this state.

The old squad leader didn't say anything.

He stood like a clay statue in the downpour, letting the cold rain wash over his thin body.

The empty sleeve was still swinging violently in the wind.

"Thump...thump...thump..."

Gradually, even Kuang Ge heard it; it wasn't thunder.

It was a very low, very muffled, yet continuous sound.

It was caught in the wind and rain, sometimes near, sometimes far.

It sounded like the low growls of countless wild beasts, or like some kind of tremor coming from the depths of the earth.

She raised her head groggily, her eyes unfocused.

"Are they... are they dead? They're crying..."

People can experience auditory hallucinations when they are in a state of extreme hunger or near death.

The live stream chat was filled with alarming comments.

"Holy crap, why did the background music change?"

"That sound is giving me the creeps. Could it really be a supernatural development? That old bastard Luo never mentioned any supernatural elements!"

"Don't scare me. Thousands of people have died in this grassland. It's perfectly normal for there to be some strange noises..."

The sound grew louder and louder.

It pierced through the rain and the gale.

It was no longer a deep rumble, but gradually became clearer and more rhythmic.

That is……

That is……

The old squad leader's body suddenly began to tremble violently.

The trembling was even more intense than when he had experienced phantom limb pain earlier.

His cloudy old eyes suddenly widened, staring intently at the gray, misty rain ahead, an unnatural flush rising to his cheeks.

The old squad leader suddenly opened his mouth and let out a heart-wrenching roar.

"It's not a ghost!"

"They're not enemies either!"

The old squad leader suddenly turned around, pointed in the direction from which the wind and rain were coming, and tears mixed with the rain flowed down his face.

"Did you hear that? Those are people! They're our people!"

"It's the main force! Our main force is right ahead!"

Not a ghost?

Not an enemy either?

Are they...our people?

Kuang Ge wiped the mud off his face and struggled to open his swollen eyelids.

Following the direction pointed by the old squad leader's one arm, he saw that the dark shadow he had initially thought was a "muddy hill" was actually moving.

The deep rumble pierced through the rain, again and again.

That was the sound of hundreds and thousands of feet stepping into the mud, pulling it out, and then stepping it down again.

"Help me up...help me up!"

The old squad leader ignored the excruciating pain from his severed arm; the turn he made earlier had caused him to stumble and fall.

His swollen leg was trembling violently, and he tried to stand up twice but failed.

Crazy Brother and Eagle Eye exchanged a glance, then the two of them, one on each side, firmly held down the old squad leader's armpits.

Even though she was completely exhausted, Ruanruan suddenly perked up. She gritted her teeth, carried the unconscious Xiaodouzi on her back, and pulled Xiaohu, who was in a daze and had just realized what was happening, to help support Xiaodouzi.

The group staggered up the earthen slope like a bunch of demons crawling out of hell.

The mud filled my straw sandals; they were slippery and cold.

With each step, the last bit of oxygen in the lungs is depleted.

The moment when Crazy Brother finally poked his head out from behind the ridge of the earthen slope and saw the scene before him.

He felt a chill run down his spine, and goosebumps erupted all over his body.

There was no orderly formation of thousands of troops.

There was no grand display of red flags waving.

What met my eyes was a dark, endless sea of ​​people.

In this black swamp that has swallowed countless lives, thousands of ragged warriors are lined up in rows.

Because the mud underfoot was too soft and too deep, a single person would be swallowed up by that enormous mouth in an instant if they stepped on it.

So they walked hand in hand.

The person on the left is holding the arm of the person on the right, while the person on the right is gripping the wrist of the person on the left tightly.

Nearly a hundred people in a row, dozens of people in a column.

They helped each other, turning themselves into pieces of driftwood, forming a human breakwater.

Some people had sunk halfway into the mud, with only their chests above the surface, but they didn't struggle because their comrades on either side were holding their shoulders tightly and pulling them out like tufts of radish.

Some people were walking along when their bodies suddenly swayed, and they stopped breathing. But the people next to them didn't let go; they dragged their bodies and continued moving forward.

This is a long, gray dragon made of flesh and blood.

It meanders and wriths in this forbidden zone of death, slowly but resolutely extending northward.

"This is... the main force..."

Hawkeye's old sleeve fell into the mud with a "thud".

In the three live streaming rooms, with tens of millions of viewers online, the chat window was silent for more than ten seconds.

There was no "666" or "Holy crap".

Everyone felt as if an invisible hand had gripped their throats.

Tears welled up in the eyes of Mr. Qin, who was watching on the screen, and streamed down his deeply lined cheeks and into his collar.

In a parallel world, he actually saw the "backbone" he wanted to see.

In the scene, the wind and rain intensify.

The thunder rumbled, as if trying to shatter the fragile gray dragon.

But just then, a hoarse, cracked voice, yet with a hardness as penetrating as metal and stone, came from the front of the group.

At first, it was just one person shouting.

Next came a squad, a platoon, and a company.

"The west wind is fierce..."

The voices were not uniform; some were cracked, some had punctuated sounds, and some even sounded like sobs.

But when they all came together, they drowned out the thunder.

"Wild geese cry in the frosty morning moon..."

"Frosty Morning Moon..."

"The sound of horses' hooves clattered... the sound of trumpets faded..."

Crazy Brother lay on the earthen slope, listening to the unrhymed roar, his heart pounding.

He doesn't understand poetry.

He had never heard of this poem in the cultural wasteland of Earth.

But he understood what it meant.

This isn't reciting poetry at all.

This is a challenge from the heavens and this man-eating grassland, to the people who are about to starve, freeze, and die from exhaustion!

The old squad leader's body stopped trembling.

His sallow face was now glowing with an eerie red light.

He straightened his back, and with his only remaining hand, he straightened the collar of his military uniform, which was already tattered into strips of cloth, and then touched the "golden fishhook" clipped to the collar.

Then, he took a deep breath and joined the torrent with his booming voice.

"The road ahead is long and arduous, as solid as iron!"

Upon hearing this line, Kuang Ge felt his very soul tremble.

The pass is as impregnable as iron.

Even if the road ahead is as hard as iron, as difficult to traverse as iron.

"Now we take this step...and start afresh!!"

The roar of thousands of people converged into a wave of sound, forcefully breaking through the curtain of rain.

"Start over!"

"Start over from the beginning!!"

【

Waaah, I'm crying as I write this. They won't let me write the original version of the song, so I have to change it to Mao Zedong's poem...

】