Outside the Dwarf village, beside the charred wreckage of a tank, soldiers carrying weapons marched in a loose formation, their steps heavy.
They were getting close to the front lines; the tank destroyed by the Tang Army stood as the best evidence. Yet, having never been on a battlefield, seeing such a scene inevitably weighed heavy on their hearts.
The farmland beside the tank wreckage was already abandoned; no one cared about the crops in the fields at such a time. The civilians watched these winding soldiers with tension, their faces full of anxiety.
These days, troops were passing by almost every moment. The roads were filled with shell craters, and no vehicles or tanks could travel on them, so only light infantry, driving oxcarts and horse carriages, traversed this path, looking like troops from decades ago.
The village's cattle had already been requisitioned, and several farmers' horses were also taken. The troops passing through seemed to need everything.
