The officers watched everything before them in shock, following Yegor as they climbed higher.
The mud on the slope forced them to walk carefully to avoid slipping.
Through the wild branches, they could see, down the slope, a unit retreating from the front line passing through the valley like wounded ghosts, continuously moving toward the rear.
A few communication off-road vehicles sped past, their rolling tires splattering mud against the battered shells of the mechas, but didn't provoke the usual curses from the hot-tempered warriors.
It seemed less like an army and more like a group of dismembered zombies.
"This is..." Peterlov turned to look at the retreating troops.
"It's the Fourth Group," Yegor said gloomily. "They just retreated from the left wing. I've already sent someone to call their regiment commander."
Peterlov glanced at Yegor, quickened his pace, and charged up the hill.
The entire Maple Slope battlefield suddenly appeared before them!
