"Priest, how far are we from Chelyabinsk now?"
The rickety four-wheeled carriage traveled along the forest trail. Inside, Marvin gently patted his daughter, who lay on his lap, to lull her to sleep, while Dino looked out of the window with anxiety.
For some reason, he felt as though he had already smelled the stench of blood seeping through the crevices. The battlefield was a meat grinder, and their destination was at the very center of that battlefield.
"We're close...."
Marvin pulled out his pocket watch and took a glance, "We should arrive in Chelyabinsk by this morning."
A day had passed since they set off, and they had not stopped, except for meals and bathroom breaks. They had also changed horses twice, aspiring to reach the frontline as swiftly as possible.
Despite that...
Marvin still felt they were late.
