"Colonel Raymond, you are surrounded. Don't make things more difficult."

Shit, these bastards already got me. How did I get to this? I, a respectable army colonel, surrounded by an entire battalion. Yes, everything started to go to shit with that promotion. Brigadier General, how nice it sounded when they proposed it to me. If they had only warned me that without contacts they would make my life impossible, I would have rejected it completely.

"Tch, Richard Miller, you bastard! You orchestrated all of this!" As I pondered over how I had reached this juncture, I vented my rage at the scoundrel who had schemed this entire plot. Yes, this bastard, Richard Miller, or should I say Colonel Richard, the other candidate for the position I was also running for.

"Hehehehe, Raymond Davis, did you think that politics was only about being a good hunting dog? So what, you have been named Colonel Ghost, hunting dogs only deserve the position of dog, never that of wolf."

Damn son of a bitch, but deep down I know, I have no background, I have no support. Who would support a dog that only knows how to obey and bite? But I don't like it. All my life I have followed orders without questioning them, without looking back, losing countless friends and subordinates in the process. And for what?.

"Hahaha, there you have it, gentlemen, the great Raymond Davis, Colonel Ghost, the reaper of the North. Now, Raymond, lay down your weapons. You are already wounded, and my battalion and I are not too happy with the casualties that you and your faithful dogs have caused."

"Tch, son of a bitch. Colonel, give the order and I'll shoot the disrespectful bastard's mouth shut."

While I was lost in my sadness, a voice broke through my thoughts. When I looked to my right, I saw them—there were only five left. They were my most faithful subordinates, no, friends. At this point, they could no longer be called anything else. Suddenly, I felt it. I had my comrades left, but I didn't want them to waste their lives for me. No, we had been through too much for them to throw their lives away in a petty political power struggle.

As I composed myself, I abruptly stood up. I knew that bastard Richard couldn't kill me here. "Colonel?" My faithful commander and the other four looked at me, confused. With resolve, I gave the order out loud.

"Commander Robert Brown!" As I called out, Robert stood up and saluted. "Present, my Colonel!" Amid a moment of strange silence, I continued. "Captain John Williams!" "Present, my Colonel!" "Captain Elizabeth Taylor!" "Present, my Colonel!" "First Lieutenant David Martin!" "Present, my Colonel!" "Second Lieutenant Linda White!" "Present, my Colonel!"

After roll call, I took a brief moment to sigh and ease my nerves. But as I surveyed the hundreds of men around us and glanced at the bastard guilty of everything, I noticed a solemnity on their faces that I had not seen before. For some reason, the weight of the order I was about to give seemed to ease as I looked at their determined expressions.

"Colonel!" Before I could give my order, Robert touched me on the shoulder and shouted out loud, "Don't even think about giving any order other than to attack after having gotten this far, hahaha!".

As I looked at his broad smile, I could also see the determined look on the faces of the commander and the other members of the group. Yes, I have no reason to doubt. If this is going to be my last battle, it would be a disgrace to my fallen companions if we gave up now. With a big sigh, I adjusted my colonel's cap. I had always treasured it, but at this moment, it was in tatters.

"I, Raymond Davis, Colonel of the Thirteenth Mountain Regiment, hereby declare Colonel Richard Miller a traitor to the nation." As the dirty bastard in front of me widened his eyes in shock, a triumphant smile settled on my lips. He wasn't the only one who was shocked; even my companions around me were equally surprised.

"Hahahaha, Colonel, it's a big surprise that you just gave us before we're going to die," Robert said with a big laugh. But of course, it wasn't something to reproach him for now because the six of us were wearing the same smile as him.

Colonel Richard was seething with anger. A bastard who only had six members left with him, was declaring him a traitor to the nation. The worst thing was that when he looked at his soldiers, some of them began to show faces of reluctance.

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"Shit, this can't continue," Richard muttered to himself, his mind racing at full speed. Even if he had gotten Raymond to this point, he knew Raymond was still a dangerous man. That bastard, with less than half his men, managed to counter his ambush and hold out until now.

As Richard pondered the situation, Raymond's voice echoed again, "Colonel Richard, you and I know that the Brigadier General will not be able to help you cover up all this theater for much longer." For a moment, Richard's mind froze. How... "Ha, Richard, you stupid bastard, did you think I wouldn't realize who was supporting you?."

It was normal for Richard to freeze, but it was no secret that the current Brigadier General was not friendly to me. That bastard only goes by who is most useful to him, and that's where Richard's bootlicker comes in. A man who abandons any shred of dignity just to ascend one more step, that was Richard Miller, the man currently being exploited by the current Brigadier General.

"Shit, Raymond, you've asked for it! Men, target those six bastards!" Colonel Richard's voice seethed with anger as he prepared to bring an end to this entire charade. Time was running out, but he was determined to take Raymond down with him, at the very least.

As Raymond watched all this with abnormal calmness, he issued his own orders, "Everyone, take aim, and don't forget to take at least one of those bastards with you to hell."

"Yes, sir!" In unison, the last five members raised their assault rifles and aimed them at the enemy. Everyone present understood that although brief, there would be a massacre. Yet, the soldiers on both sides braced themselves, including Richard and Raymond, their gazes locked in a deadly standoff.

For a brief moment, an eerie silence enveloped the area, broken only by irregular breathing and the occasional sound of swallowing.

Suddenly, the silence was broken. Raymond took a step forward. "Colonel?" Robert was the first to come out of the trance, followed by Richard's shout. "Raymond, stay where you are!." But for some strange reason, something prevented Richard from continuing to shout. No, it was more correct to say that fear had invaded the senses of everyone present.

"The white death..." The speaker remained unknown, but at that moment, no one dared to question the words. Indeed, the white death: the nickname earned by this man. If one were to list his exploits, they would be endless. However, there was one that stood out, one that solidified his nickname.

Accompanied by just ten people, in the midst of a mountain, battling a snowstorm deep in enemy territory, Raymond Davis held out for a full week amidst intense battles with the enemy, the storm, and the scarcity of provisions. The issue with all of this was that the man currently advancing with confident strides was the sole survivor, Raymond Davis. At that time, a mere captain, he had earned the moniker of "the White Death."

Raymond, unaware of the weight of his reputation in that moment, continued advancing. For a brief moment, he surveyed his surroundings with hawk-like eyes, feeling a sense of freedom wash over him. He was weary of paperwork, political disputes, and office discussions; he yearned for the battlefield, and today, he finally felt alive again.

He knew it. He understood that he might meet his end here today, yet for some inexplicable reason, he didn't care. Raymond Davis felt alive again, and as if following a script, he unholstered his Sig Sauer. "What the hell are you...?!" Before Richard could finish speaking, Bang, Bang, two gunshots rang out in the middle of the night, and just like that, Raymond Davis and Richard Miller fell to the ground simultaneously.

Incredibly, the shots did not come from Richard's gun. A middle-aged man, flanked by thousands of soldiers, approached, surrounding the scene and aiming at both armies. The man himself did not seem particularly remarkable, except for the insignia he wore around his neck: a silver star, synonymous with Brigadier General.

"Raymond, Richard, you've given me a lot of trouble," the man spoke as if scolding two children who had misbehaved. This would be endearing if it weren't for the fact that the shots were coming from the pistol he was holstering.

"Hahahaha, General," Raymond chuckled weakly, coughing up blood. "I knew you couldn't sit still." Despite Brigadier General Liam Bailey having long retired from the battlefield, his aim remained one of the best. For a moment, General Liam looked confused. He wasn't one to overlook small details; after all, he was an extremely planning and meticulous man. But for some reason, seeing the smile on Colonel Richard's face made him feel like something had been overlooked.

"Little Raymond, even if I have overlooked something, I have countermeasures. However, you are giving your last vestiges of life," Liam expressed with a contemptuous look. Raymond, for some reason, smiled even more, and with the last of his strength, he shouted, "General, is that enough evidence?!" Raymond coughed up blood, and his vision began to blur, but what he heard next made him smile.

"General Liam Bailey, for having committed crimes of high treason and premeditated double homicide..." Before he could hear the rest of the sentence, Raymond breathed his last.