Chapter 79: The Warrior’s Dignity

As the sound of the car engine faded into the distance, the tumult of the scene suddenly fell silent. In just a few hours, it felt as though an entire century had passed, and the atmosphere seemed to draw everyone back to the sorrow surrounding Chen Diwen’s death. Sometimes, it’s easy for people to forget how they came into this world, yet they can never let go of how they leave it.

Chen Cao brushed the dust off his clothes. Truthfully, if he hadn’t seen that Duan Tianya’s pallid face had grown even more worn and aged since before the mission, he would have wanted to rush over and punch him again. Now, in the shifting light, the scars left by war on Duan Tianya were all the more apparent.

There was no satisfaction in Duan Tianya’s expression, no trace of mischief—only a deep, unfathomable look as he gazed at Chen Cao.

The wind swept in from the dense forest, carrying the fresh and damp scent of leaves.

Guo Qianshuang glanced at Duan Tianya, then said, “You’ve passed the test. You may return to the academy now.”

Upon hearing Guo Qianshuang’s words, Bear grew furious, clenching his fists until his knuckles cracked. “What do you mean? I traveled thousands of miles, fought life and death in Oderu, and then got beaten up by my own people—what’s the meaning of this? I want an explanation!”

As Bear finished speaking, indignation spread across everyone’s faces. Indeed, for a soldier, this was the greatest insult—especially remembering just a few hours ago, when they were seized immediately upon landing, locked in a small room, subjected to all manner of interrogation and torment. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

“Bear, this is the academy’s official procedure. We have no right to question it. Have you forgotten the regulations you memorized when you first came to the school?” Chen Cao said solemnly.

Guo Qianshuang showed not a hint of guilt; instead, she continued, “If you want to know the reason, it’s simple: you are trainees of Task Force 0611.”

At her words, everyone fell silent again, their faces shifting from anger to resignation. They were soldiers. Once they donned their uniforms, they ceased to be ordinary people. To the academy, they were merely parts of the fighting force, and obedience was their eternal duty. Their only task was to complete their missions, and besides, this was just a routine political inquiry.

At that moment, Duan Tianya spoke. Though he looked even more frail than before, his voice was still strong and unwavering: “I know you still have things to do. I can give you time, but you must hurry.” He looked deeply at Chen Cao. “Hurry. Some things are really simple—don’t make them too complicated.”

With that, Duan Tianya leaned on his cane and slowly walked toward the depths of the forest.

Guo Qianshuang followed Duan Tianya into the woods and soon emerged again, silent, her elegant face grave. In her hands was a round package, wrapped in camouflage fabric. Chen Cao recognized it instantly—it was his own uniform, soaked with sweat and stained with the blood from Chen Diwen’s head.

Some things are given without any guarantee of reward. To gain one thing, one must lose another. In this mission, Chen Cao gained the trust of his comrades but lost an enemy—an enemy who drove him onward with greater intensity than any friend.

…

The small cabin on the mountainside was now completely engulfed in darkness. On this night of the full moon, the sounds of insects and beasts in the surrounding forest melded into a chorus. Frogs, eager for mates, croaked tirelessly, drawing attention from their kind. Their time was short, but their coupling signified the continuation of life.

Beside the mound where his once best companion, the military dog Black Titan, was buried, another grave had appeared. The soil was piled high, but there was no marker.

Chen Cao stood alone in front of the grave, bathed in moonlight, as solid and unmoving as a mountain.

Chen Diwen was gone. Chen Cao understood better than anyone—he died during an unconventional mission, unable to receive the honors bestowed upon fallen soldiers. He would remain forever on the academy’s rear mountain, merged with the land, indistinguishable from it. His family would receive a notice of his disappearance and a substantial government compensation.

But what meaning does that compensation hold when the person is gone?

Perhaps, one day, Chen Cao would also lie here. Perhaps he might not even be granted that privilege.

Thud, thud—the footsteps behind him were heavy and purposeful. He knew the sound all too well; it was Duan Tianya.

“These are yours. Do you wish to abandon them?” Duan Tianya’s steady voice came from behind. With a metallic clang, two blades gleamed coldly in front of the grave.

Chen Cao looked closely: two daggers, their handles engraved in archaic script—one reading “Farewell,” the other “Departure.”

He turned around, no longer feeling the urge to hit Duan Tianya. He picked up the daggers, running his fingers gently over the inscriptions, then looked at Duan Tianya. “Do you think I can give up?”

Duan Tianya smiled, pulling out a flask. As he unscrewed the cap, the rich aroma of liquor wafted over.

Alcohol is sometimes a fine thing. Chen Cao, steeped in its scent since childhood, hadn’t tasted it in ages. Now, in this moment, the longing for its warmth flooded him.

Duan Tianya took a deep swig from the military canteen. “Want a drink? Many thinkers consider this stuff a numbing poison. They swear it’s toxic, but they can never let go of it.”

He screwed the cap back on and tossed it to Chen Cao.

Chen Cao caught it deftly, opened it, and inhaled the pungent aroma. From memory, he recognized it as the strongest, most mellow eight-star Erguotou. He drank deeply, savoring the burn as the liquid raced down his throat. The warmth surged through him, spreading from his mouth, his ears, his veins—he felt the alcohol coursing through every tumultuous part of his body, and only one word came to mind: comfort.

After savoring the moment, a touch of color returned to Chen Cao’s face. He tossed the flask back to Duan Tianya. “Drinking alone is dull—you wanted company, didn’t you?”

Duan Tianya caught it, drank heavily, and threw it back. “Sometimes you’re alone, sometimes surrounded by many.”

Chen Cao, now hooked, grabbed the flask eagerly for another swig, then tossed it back. “Oh?”

Duan Tianya drank again, then passed it back, took out cigarettes, lit one, then another, then a third, placing them side by side on the ground. He exhaled a plume of smoke, his breath tinged with liquor. “Humans are strange creatures. Especially as life nears its end, all the things you’d rather forget come flooding back. When you try not to remember, those memories burrow into your mind. Sometimes, alcohol is a friend, sometimes a demon. When I drink, it takes me back to the hell of the battlefield, but also to the nights drinking and singing with comrades. So yes, people are strange things.”

Chen Cao drank silently. Now the liquor tasted bitter, no longer as fragrant as before. Was the nature of alcohol as fickle as human nature?

The wind swept by, quickly burning the three cigarettes on the ground; the flask was soon empty as well.

Duan Tianya stood up. The powerful effects of the alcohol shook his war-tattered body, and he wobbled, nearly collapsing, but he propped himself up with his cane, struggling to his feet.

Chen Cao saw this, his fingers twitching, but he didn’t move to help—nothing was more humiliating for a seasoned warrior than needing assistance in a moment of awkwardness.

“Thank you,” Duan Tianya said at last.

Chen Cao, somewhat drunk, sat down beside the graves of his comrades and gazed at the bright moon. “Thank me for what? I did nothing.”

Duan Tianya straightened the bent cigarette from his fall, lit it, took a long drag, and exhaled slowly. “Thank you for giving me a warrior’s final dignity.”

Chen Cao smiled. Under the cold moonlight, the warmth in his smile seemed honest and reassuring. “From the moment we entered this place, there’s never been a ‘final.’”

Duan Tianya laughed. “I said it—this is the end. Chen Cao, your special training is over.”

Hearing this, a spark of color flashed in Chen Cao’s half-drunken eyes. “Do you mean I’m to retire?”

Duan Tianya kept smiling. “Not retirement. The academy would never let a trainee we’ve worked so hard to cultivate leave. I mean, you can return to school, live as a regular cadet, finish five years of training, and continue serving the cause of national defense. Isn’t that what you always wanted?”

School—classrooms! Chen Cao suddenly remembered the years gone by. He understood loneliness, the battlefield, killing, and the pain of parting.

As he struggled to accept Duan Tianya’s words, Duan had already stood, dusted himself off, and turned to walk down the slope.

Wait—Chen Cao suddenly sprang to his feet. “What you said in that little cell today—was it meant for me? Was that interrogation?”

Duan Tianya turned, leaning on his cane, his face under the full moon twisted into a faintly enigmatic smile.

Flame King 79_Flame King Full Text Free Reading_Chapter Seventy-Nine: The Dignity of a Warrior—Update Complete!