Chapter 546

The vast cemetery held the remains of most of the fallen soldiers. A large gravestone dominated the entrance.

Further in, they passed several small buildings housing the cemetery guards, who had been captured and confined in one building, bound and gagged, unable to call for help.

Before beginning their rescue mission, Rafael and his team had prepared food and water, anticipating Septimus's torture. The Sandorians, after their defeat, would undoubtedly seek vengeance. They assumed Septimus would be severely injured and unable to travel immediately.

However, they hadn't anticipated the number of injured men; their supplies were insufficient.

Upon their return, Dylan was already tending to Law's wounds. Rafael set Thomas down, immediately handing Everett and Jacob the medicinal supplies and bandages. "Treat the wounded first," he instructed.

Thomas, injured in his back, had staggered for a while before losing consciousness upon reaching the cemetery. Rafael crushed pills, giving them to Thomas with water, then tore open his shirt. A gaping wound extended from his shoulder blade to his waist, nearly exposing the bone.

Fortunately, they had applied acupressure, stopping the bleeding in time. Prolonged acupressure, however, could cause damage; Rafael hoped it wouldn't be severe.

After attending to the wounds, Rafael looked at the men. Besides Thomas, he recognized none of them. Lawrence, unconscious from severe torture, remained unidentified despite Rafael's scrutiny.

Thomas, barely able to support himself, raised his hand. "Thomas Farrell, reporting in!"

After a stunned silence, the others followed suit:

"Felix Quinton reporting in!" "Joshua Cooper reporting in!" "Benson Cooper reporting in!" "Scott Prince reporting in!" "Wilfred Prince reporting in!" "Tobias Jensen reporting in!" "Homer Larkin reporting in!" "Ivan Lewis reporting in!" "Bruce Stone reporting in!"

Rafael turned away, tears finally falling. After regaining his composure, he said, "On behalf of the Sinclair Army, welcome back to the team."

Eleven had survived. The depth of Rafael's emotion was immeasurable. The ten men covered their faces, tears silently escaping. They would never forget their allegiance to the Sinclair Army, even after their marshal's sacrifice. They could finally openly declare themselves as part of it.

A weak voice came from the ground. "Lawrence… Zielger… reporting in!"

Rafael grasped Lawrence's struggling hand; the weak gesture was all he could manage. Lawrence opened one eye; the other was swollen shut. His face was a mass of bruises, his mouth split, his nose crooked. The left side was more swollen than the right, but the right eye was grotesquely swollen. He was barely recognizable as human.

His thin frame revealed jutting bones. The torture inflicted heart-wrenching injuries. Dylan wept as he treated him. Burns, whipping, fingernail extraction, and steel needles pierced through his fingers, leaving numerous small holes. His swollen, red, pus-filled fingers were inflamed.

Lawrence forced a smile through gritted teeth, his once handsome face unrecognizable. Rafael couldn't bear to look at it; a heavy pressure constricted his chest.

The extent of Lawrence's suffering was unimaginable.

Rafael went outside, sitting by the door, gazing at the moon. The journey home was long, but he was determined to bring them all back.

Composing himself, he heard Thomas ask Jacob, "Sir, how are my parents and my wife? And what about Timothy? Are they well?"

Jacob paused. "They are all well. However, believing you were dead, your wife returned to her natal family and remarried." He avoided deception, preparing Thomas for the reality.

Thomas fell silent, lying on the ground, his face buried in his arms.