The Lieutenant pounded his emaciated chest hard, producing a dull sound: "Understood!"
His gaze swept over General Haftar and the "Hunter" on the stretcher, filled with a resolute heaviness.
The line of wounded soldiers, under the blazing sun, supported each other, carried, and staggered toward the direction of Kurtan Oasis.
Each step sank deep into the sand, each movement accompanied by suppressed groans and heavy panting.
What they carried away was the last symbol of hope for the team, yet also a heavy burden.
Song Heping withdrew his gaze, no longer looking at the mournful team slowly disappearing into the silhouette of the dunes.
He turned around.
More than a hundred and thirty soldiers still capable of holding weapons stood silently behind him, like ravenous wolves stripped of their fur, exposing their fangs.
