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71.57% "German Honor" / Chapter 141: Chapter 140: Endless Descent

章 141: Chapter 140: Endless Descent

Forged in the crucible of the battlefield, their iron-willed determination augmented by the resolve born from facing death head-on, Lynn and his squad of commandos seemed like fearless machine warriors, charging up to the second floor despite bullets flying past them.

In just a matter of seconds, the battle ended decisively in their favor, with any Soviet soldiers attempting resistance mercilessly gunned down.

"Grab every single one of them still breathing, and check their ranks!" Lynn's eyes blazed crimson as he scanned the chaotic hall. Two wireless sets and tables meant for maps and telephones lay in ruins from the previous grenade attacks.

"Gordon! Gordon!" Lynn urgently called for Wolfram. Seeing the Russian-speaking German soldier unharmed brought a slight relief to Lynn's heavy heart, but speaking with a sense of urgency, he said, "Ask for the highest-ranking one, their unit number, and position!"

Before Wolfram could act, Bruck yanked out a grime-covered figure from among the living Soviet soldiers. With thick lips and a relatively young appearance—at least not belonging to the category of the elderly—the man seemed somewhat worn.

"Sir, we've got a Colonel here!" Bruck announced.

As Wolfram began questioning the Soviet officer in Russian, the man simply glared at the German soldiers before him, refusing to utter a word.

Normally, Lynn would have had more patience, but at this moment, his blood boiled. He unexpectedly grabbed the Soviet officer's collar with his left hand and clenched his right fist, pummeling the man's abdomen repeatedly in a ferocious manner he hadn't anticipated. When the man bent over in pain, Lynn used his left hand to pull up the officer's neck and delivered a fierce punch to his right cheek, resulting in a satisfying crack.

Despite occasional scuffles in his past, Lynn had never unleashed such ferocity before.

Ignoring the throbbing pain in his knuckles, Lynn released his grip and told Wolfram, "Tell him if he doesn't speak, I'll kill every one of his comrades here, one by one!"

Wolfram seemed unsurprised by Lynn's actions and quickly translated the words into Russian—words that Lynn inexplicably loathed.

Given the Russians' known temperament of being stubborn and resilient, the Soviet Colonel endured the beating without a word. After hearing what Wolfram said, he sneered and suddenly spat blood at Lynn.

Lynn stared at him with icy eyes for two seconds before withdrawing his pistol from its holster. He aimed the gun at the man's forehead.

The man's eyes remained wide, full of resentment as if trying to devour Lynn.

Suddenly, Lynn shifted the gun downward, firing two shots into the man's left and right arms near the shoulders. The man finally howled in pain like a wounded wolf.

"Keep the two of them with you at all times!" Lynn coldly instructed Wolfram and Bruck, his image in the eyes of his comrades possibly transforming into that of a raging demon at that moment.

Turning towards the staircase, Lynn gazed ahead and asked, "How do you say 'ceasefire' in Russian?"

Wolfram hesitated for a moment before syllabically pronouncing the Russian phrase.

Expressionless, Lynn descended the stairs.

While Noah controlled the infantry anti-tank rocket launcher, it posed a deadly threat to Soviet tanks and armored vehicles. However, they only had one, and it had its limitations on the battlefield. Moments ago, the machine gun fire resumed downstairs.

Wolfram and Bruck, carrying the nearly unconscious Soviet Colonel, followed Lynn downstairs.

Upon Lynn's loud call in Russian, the Soviet tanks and armored vehicles outside surprisingly ceased fire. A tank commander cautiously poked his head out of the turret hatch and shouted, gesturing for his comrades with submachine guns to come forward—although there were over a dozen tanks and armored vehicles parked outside, there were few genuine infantrymen, and most had been killed or injured in the German assault. Some armored vehicle crews unable to move their vehicles joined with close combat weapons to act as infantry, allowing for makeshift infantry support.

"Ceasefire! Ceasefire!"

Lynn, like a medieval sorcerer, uttered the incantation as he walked through the ground floor hall with his assault rifle held steadily at his chest, passing through to the doorway. Two Soviet soldiers hesitated as they approached, wary of becoming hostages, and Lynn urgently shouted, "stop," but his gun remained still.

The two Soviet soldiers indeed slowed their pace, and Wolfram and Bruck emerged with the Soviet Colonel. Although both sides wore standard combat uniforms and had T-34s and SU-76s, it was a scene reminiscent of a showdown between cops and robbers.

Certainly, the battlefield differed from a shootout between cops and robbers. Lynn believed that unless the Soviets thought he was surrendering, they wouldn't allow themselves to be confronted like this. After all, there's no such thing as kidnapping on the battlefield!

"Gordon, have them step back, or Colonel Matsyov will die in front of them! Tell them that as long as we safely leave here, the Colonel will be released!"

Even though the words of a bandit were not worth believing, Lynn had to hope that the Soviet soldiers had a simple and honest character.

Before the Soviet soldier with the submachine gun could speak, the man atop the tank turret shouted, and Wolfram immediately relayed to Lynn, "If you don't release the Colonel, I'll open fire and kill you all!"

Regardless of whether this was merely a bluff, Lynn already understood the mentality of desperate bandits. With no gunfire and no further negotiations, Lynn could only feign composure and say to Wolfram, "Let him fire at his own commanding officer! We're already losing this war, and we don't care to hasten our end!"

Fearing that Wolfram might omit the latter sentence due to concerns, Lynn reminded him, "Tell him every word, without leaving anything out!"

Wolfram recited a long string of words that Lynn disliked, and during this process, Lynn consciously led them back towards the building across the street, which had a passage leading to the abandoned subway station.

Perhaps it was the last sentence that had an effect, but perhaps it was simply the Soviets' reluctance to jeopardize the hostages in the hands of German soldiers. With no gunfire and no further negotiations, in this eerie atmosphere pushed to its limits, Lynn managed to lead the Soviet Colonel and the remaining soldiers of the assault team back to the completely dilapidated mall and then down the passage. To prevent the Soviets from following them, Lynn ordered the soldiers to gather their explosives and collapse the narrow emergency passage.

Before returning to the sewer, Lynn announced a brief rest in the abandoned subway station, then instructed Wolfram to help stop the Soviet Colonel's bleeding and Bruck to take a headcount. He lit a cigarette, devouring it like a starving man would devour bread, taking several deep puffs in succession.

Putting aside everything else, with the increasing casualties, the task of taking a headcount became simpler. Bruck quickly returned to Lynn's side and reported heavily, "Sir, including two severely wounded, there are now nine personnel remaining—Brul, Alfred, Gordon, Noah, Marcus, Karl, Carlo... and you and me!"

The first six names were pronounced slowly, as if to ensure Lynn remembered these relatively fortunate brothers. The last sentence was uttered quickly, as if escaping from the hands of death depended on this speed.

In the darkness, Lynn smoked his last cigarette and handed the remaining half to Bruck.

Of the 10 soldiers who charged across the street with him, only 5 managed to return, and Frins was critically injured. Only Brul, Gordon Wolfram, Karl Tichemell, and Lof Breuk survived. Noah and Carlo, the anti-tank combat team, remained across the street to provide support. They fought bravely and temporarily restrained the Soviet tanks, but Carlo was wounded by shrapnel, and the situation looked grim. The last surviving spot belonged to Private Marcus Tantzer, who provided cover with a sniper rifle.

Just past midnight, the commander of this night raid task force had lost more than half of his men. How would they continue the fight?

The heaviness of his unusual mood weighed on him.

"Sir!" Tichemell softly called out from where he stood, "Frins has something to say to you!"

Hearing this, Lynn quickly made his way over. During the first assault on the second floor, Frins was the first to charge up the stairs and ended up being shot multiple times. Although most of the shots didn't hit vital areas, the two lodged in his chest ultimately led him to the end of his life.

In a very weak state, Frins managed to say, "Sir... I'm sorry... I think... you're right! We've lost... this battle, lost..."

Such an obvious truth, yet these brave soldiers only believed it at the very end. Suppressing his sadness, Lynn murmured, "Losing a battle isn't the end. We still have a future!"

In the darkness, Lynn took a final drag of his cigarette and handed the remaining half to Brück.

Of the ten soldiers who charged across the street with him, only five made it back. Flens was severely injured, leaving only Brühl, Gordon, Karl Tichmeyer, Loewe Brück, and Lynn as survivors. Noah and Caruno, the anti-tank combat team, remained across the street providing support. They fought bravely to temporarily hold off the Soviet tanks, but Caruno was injured by shrapnel, and the situation looked dire. The last survivor was Private Markus Tanzler, providing cover with his sniper rifle.

Shortly after midnight, Lynn, the commander of the night combat special forces, had lost more than half of his men. How could they continue the fight?

A heavy, unfamiliar mood weighed on him.

"Commander!" Tichmeyer whispered from his spot. "Major Flens has something to say to you!"

Hearing this, Lynn hurried over in the darkness. During the first assault on the second floor, Flens was the first up the stairs and was hit by multiple bullets. Though most didn't strike vital areas, two remained lodged in his chest, leading him to the end of his life.

In a very weakened state, Flens managed to say, "Commander... I'm sorry... I think... you were right! We... lost this battle, lost..."

Such an obvious truth, yet these brave soldiers only believed it at the very end. Lynn suppressed his sadness and murmured, "Losing a battle doesn't mean it's the end. We still have a future!"

"Yeah..." Flens said, drawing out the word. After a violent bout of coughing, he whispered, "We must win! Comrades, we must win the next battle... I'll be watching from heaven..."

Just like the French who lost the Franco-Prussian War, always longing to reclaim Alsace and Lorraine, and the Germans who lost the previous war, trying to regain their victory and honor under Adolf Hitler. What about the next time?

If history remained unchanged, Lynn knew the next half-century would belong to the rivalry between the United States and the Soviet Union, leaving Germany to survive in the midst of these two powers. But at this moment, as his comrades approached the end, he would rather tell a colossal lie: "Have faith, my brothers! We will win the next battle! We will ascend to the top of the world and make all our enemies kneel before us!"

"I truly hope to see that day..." These were the final words left to the world by Alfred Flens, 26-year-old reserve Waffen-SS soldier and official member of the "Vampire" assault team.

Lynn silently removed his helmet.


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