Chapter 8: Mythical Legacy - White Death [3]
"Commander!" Inside a green tent, three commanders could be seen.
"Are you sure we should apply this strategy?"
"This strategy will empty most of the artillery we possess. We might also lose a lot of soldiers in the process."
"But if we don't do this, then our soldiers in fear will not charge forward and kill those white coat bastards!"
"If we can't kill even a single man, why the heck are we even here? Just to suffer?"
"Sigh! White Death, that darn bastard! He is just a single man." Irritation was all over his face. With a defeated sigh, he said, "In a secretive manner, hide many snipers around a safe distance. We are going to finish this White Death!"
The attack on North-East had truly begun!
...
A whistling sound spread in the air. The screams of the white coat soldiers echoed as artillery rounds shredded through the air.
An artillery round directly struck a soldier, instantaneously killing him. All that remained were bloodied intestines, limbs, and internal organs.
Lucas's eyes widened as he immediately jumped out of the snow, looking at the artillery. Several rounds of them were headed towards his direction, as if all of them were specifically targeting him.
Not caring about hiding himself anymore, Lucas ran straight deep inside the forest. Amid the chaos, several silhouettes flashed, looking like they were chasing someone.
A few bullets rippled in the air, landing a few centimeters from Lucas. Immediately, Lucas shot in the direction from which the bullets came earlier.
Panicking, a brown coat soldier immediately dashed away from his hiding spot. Seeing this opportunity with a swift click, Lucas removed the bullet shell from the rifle and then launched another shot, penetrating the brown coat soldier's head.
More artillery rounds were released in his general direction. Thanks to the supernatural strength, speed, and sensory skills of the body, Lucas managed to dodge those attacks. Simultaneously, many gunshots were shot by him, killing many brown coat soldiers.
Bang!
Suddenly, a bullet struck the ground near his leg. Looking at the direction from which the bullet came, Lucas's eyes widened.
"It's the Anti-Reaper Squad."
In front of Lucas was a figure wearing a white coat and ski mask. With a rifle on his head, the figure skied through the soft snow, shooting a few bullets in Lucas's direction.
Suddenly, Lucas's senses tingled as he fell to the ground and then started rolling. A few bullets struck the ground.
'There are more?!'
The so-called Anti-Reaper Squad was a squad built of experienced hunters who also knew a lot about sniping.
Three more figures, dressed the same as Lucas, appeared. This scene would scare anyone to death. Wasn't one White Death enough?
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
After a total of fifteen minutes, the artillery rounds had finally paused. Lucas was currently hidden in a pile of snow.
Currently, he had successfully tricked those Anti-Reaper Squad. He was successful partly because of the sudden blizzard.
After making sure no one from that squad was present, Lucas stood up.
A dry chuckle escaped his lips, "Looks like I'm lost."
And hence began the bloodiest event of this Winter War. An event that was going to give him the title - Lost Death.
15 days had passed by. The brown coat soldiers had almost finished their artillery. During this time, Lucas wasn't able to go back to base.
Instead, he had to wander all over the place, hiding from those Anti-Reaper Squad and the brown coat soldiers. But hiding wasn't the only thing done by him.
700... In total, he had killed 698 brown coat soldiers and 2 soldiers from the Anti-Reaper Squad. This was a terrifying number of people, no one would believe it. No one would think that all this was done by a single man, in the span of 15 days.
Could a human even possibly do this?
Currently, it was nighttime. The region was facing another strong blizzard. For the past few days, the climatic conditions were becoming worse and worse.
Amid that blizzard was Lucas, swiftly killing another brown coat soldier. With the help of his ski set, he swiftly skied away from there.
Injured, starving, thirsty... Yet he continued to ski... He wasn't even sure of his identity anymore, however, there were two people deeply etched in his memories.
Mom...
Sis...
His sickly mother was lying on that bed, fighting with her disease, waiting for his arrival. At such a crucial time, he had to push past all his limits! All the limits, for his family!
Biting on the snowball inside his mouth harder, Lucas fastened his speed. After an entirety of twenty minutes, he had successfully escaped.
With heavy eyelids, in a sluggish manner, Lucas untied the scarf around his mouth and then removed his mask.
Pha!
He spat the iceball which had, to some extent, liquefied in his mouth. His breath had turned extremely cold.
After breathing normally for a few minutes, he took some more snow from the ground and stuffed it in his mouth. Putting on the mask, he tightly tied the white scarf around his mouth.
With great exhaustion still present in his body, Lucas stood up. His vision had turned blurry, limiting his sight greatly. Even a superhuman like him was nothing but a human at the end of the day, who required sleep and food to function properly.
With his head aching, Lucas tried to find a spot to hide himself properly. The stock of bullets gathered by dead people was over. For now, Lucas placed his gun on the ground.
'Yes, snow over there is slightly frozen. And it's between trees. This will be the perfect spot.' Lucas thought as he walked forward.
Bang!
But at that second, he flinched as a bullet landed on the lower end of his left cheek, exploding.
"What! Who." Lucas's eyes were trailing around the area, trying to find the culprit. His eyes then landed on the culprit. A man who was wearing a white coat and a ski mask on his face.
A member of the Anti-Reaper Squad!
Sigh.
At the end, Lucas could sigh. He wasn't afraid, and even though he wanted to return to his family, strangely there was no regret in his heart.
Though he did not wish to die, he did not fear death. He had killed, and thus he shouldn't be surprised when someone would kill him. This was the mindset of a person called Simo Häyhä.
Slowly, Lucas was coming to respect this person. Looking at the member of the Anti-Reaper Squad, Lucas just stood there.
'Come on, comrade. End this misery.'
Lucas closed his eyes.
Click!
'A blank?'
Opening his eyes, he looked at the member who, in a panicked manner, was searching for bullets in his body. Seeing that there was none, he tossed his gun and took out a sharp knife.
He quickly sprinted towards Lucas who stood there.
'Comrade, I don't see the grim reaper...
But maybe you see one...'
Raising his hand, in a swift motion, he grabbed the member's wrist, twisting it. Grabbing the knife with his other hand, Lucas stabbed the member's chest.
A glint flashed in his eyes, as the boundary between illusion and reality seemed to have reappeared.
'Sir Simo... I, Lucas Brightster, am starting to respect you even more...'
...
An eternity... It felt like he had been walking for an eternity. His will seemed to have been hammered again and again. But his body couldn't handle it any longer.
Weakness finally devoured him, as Lucas's body collapsed to the ground.
'So this is the end, huh?
Ma... I wish I could see you again...
I miss your sweet voice...'
As his consciousness was slipping away, suddenly a few sharp words entered his ears.
"We found Sir Häyhä! He is still alive!"
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