Orc Tyrant

The person in charge of transporting the wounded and the dead in the medical camp moved the corpse to the cold storage at the extreme edge of the mud town camp. The cold storage was a long slender mud brick house filled with large ice bricks for winter storage.

Mountbatten and Bronze walked in the cold, dark night, with the stars above their heads like grains of sand on their masks.

The cold and stiff corpses of the soldiers were piled inside like firewood. Each corpse was covered with a layer of plastic sheeting. Pairs of swollen bare feet protruded from the shroud, with tags on their toes.

Although the war has not yet begun, various training accidents and diseases will take the lives of soldiers. Normal attrition cannot be avoided. Mountbatten can only wait for their bodies to be transported back to their hometown after the war. At any rate, they can win the merits of a martyr. .

The two officers passed between the corpses, covering their mouths and noses to ignore the pungent smell of preservatives.

The corpse they were looking for was in another room. It had not yet been processed. It was placed on an iron table with a rotten liquid oozing out from the iron plate underneath.

This person died in the wilderness a week ago. The body was already swollen, his entire face was so rotten that he could not be identified, his military uniform was worn and dim, his body was limp and loose, and he was obviously swollen because of intestinal gas.

Mountbatten and Bronze stood shaking in the cold light, looking at the corpse.

"I don't know this soldier."

Mountbatten said so, when he spoke, a mist sprayed out at a room temperature close to zero.

"But he must be yours, sir."

The medical officer insisted that his name was Date, he was very tall, he was wearing a surgical gown, and his apron was stained with blood.

When he was young, he was a surgeon. Experience and age allowed him to be transferred to a military post. Bronze wondered if he knew more about the living than the dead.

"He is not."

Mountbatten also insisted, leaning down to look at the corpse.

"Well, I don't know how you judged it, sir."

Date shrugged, her tone a little helpless.

"His face is gone."

"He will know."

Bronze also said something. He was feeling the aura of the corpse, but he could not find anything. It was already a completely empty shell.

"Where was he found?"

Mountbatten asked, putting a hand on the cold shoulder.

The surgical cloth was spread on the torso of the corpse to cover the post-dissection appearance.

"That big mud pit two kilometers away."

"He is not mine. I have not received any missing persons. The casualty list was reported a few weeks ago."

"But he wears the insignia of an independent teacher."

Date also insisted very much and pointed out the reasons for persistence.

"Here is the neckline and here the epaulettes."

"Have you done the final identification of the corpse?"

Mountbatten asked again, and picked up the notebook on the side.

"not yet."

"After you do it, you will know that this is not my person, he is not a Marcel."

Medical officer Date sighed.

"Well, let's treat him as not, Major General, I still want you to confirm, afterwards..."

"What happens next?"

"I will warn you later, Major General Mountbatten, can you think of any reason why one of your soldiers does not have a heart?"

"what?"

"No heart."

Date repeated it.

"Then what the **** is this guy in there?"

Mountbatten almost didn't jump up, but Bronze nodded against the chest of the corpse.

"He really didn't."

"A piece of decayed wood."

Date answered like this, and then lifted the surgical cloth, revealing the open chest in Mountbatten's eyes.

It was like a nightmare. The blackened and rotten internal organs were condensed together, and the white maggots were dying and struggling. At the heart of the corpse, a piece of fist-sized black wood was lying quietly in it, and emitted There is an unspeakable sense of evil.

"His liver...well, I've never seen anything like that."

"How is this going?"

Mountbatten turned to Bronze, knowing that the medical officer could not answer this question.

"A kind of black magic that turns people into puppets who are obedient to life and not afraid of life and death, and can maintain the thinking and logic of normal people. We usually call it... wooden sprites."

Mountbatten felt that his head was swelling, the urgency of the war was troublesome enough, and now there was such a thing.

"Another point."

Date said, pulling the surgical cloth down again.

At first, they could only see the broken breastbone and the sawn ribs, all covered with blood.

"here."

He pointed to a place and said.

The two looked intently and found that there was a small emblem on the waist of the dead body, which was almost destroyed by a scalpel incision.

"what is that?"

Mountbatten squinted.

"Is it a snake?"

"maybe……"

Bronze also bent down and watched.

"A snake... or some reptile, and antlers?"

Suddenly, his face changed, he straightened up quickly, took out a booklet with black leather as the cover from behind, and flipped it a few times.

"they……"

After a while, he closed the booklet again and turned it into a plume of blue smoke.

"Do you recognize this mark?"

"Predator."

Bronze said these three words in a low voice, but Mountbatten was at a loss.

"What?"

"The predator of Wendigo Church."

"Wendigo Church!?"

Mountbatten and Ida were shocked at once. The name of this cult was a household name in the New California Republic. Even before the Ouke invasion, they were considered the Republic's top priority for strangulation targets. The history of the two sides' wars is calculated in a hundred years.

"Aren't they all wiped out by Ouke?"

"This is unclear."

After thinking about it for a moment, Mountbatten asked the medical officer to arrange a few people to stand guard, optimistic about the corpse, and sent another person to notify all the senior commanders to hold an emergency meeting.

Then he and Bronze walked outside the house together.

"spy?"

Mountbatten still couldn't believe it.

"Surely, that tattoo can't be wrong."

Bronze took two steps to the side, looking into the vast wilderness under the moonlight. The sky and the earth were dark, and everything was covered with a layer of floating dust.

"I don't want to make this matter public. Soldiers will doubt and fear. This is the biggest cause of death on the battlefield."

"I support you, but I still suggest that if you have time, you can communicate with the judges on Cardillon's side. They are good at eliminating bad diseases. Although they act quite fiercely, I think there is nothing in dealing with cultists. People are more professional than them."

"Father Almighty, what kind of war are we fighting?"

Bronze looked up at the stars, hoping to get an omen from them, but in the end only witnessed endless wars and bloodshed.

"A war full of lies, disguise and betrayal."

Don’t forget the ticket~~~~~~