Chapter 140: Gao Hu

“War? Just for this?” The girl’s answer made Qian Ye feel a bit incredulous. Was this lively and charming girl also a war maniac?

“Of course! War brings military merit, and with military merit comes money. I’ve already found out that the Great Qin has no restrictions on exchanging military merit this time.”

“So, you’re not from the Empire, right?” Qian Ye asked.

The girl was startled, her eyes immediately flashing with a dangerous glint.

Qian Ye leaned against the control panel, his arms crossed, and said coolly, “Alright, put down the gun hidden under your cloak. It’s useless against me. Even if you stood still and shot me, it wouldn’t kill me.”

The girl hesitated for a moment, slowly drawing a pistol from under her cloak and placing it on the ground. Although it looked like a pistol, it was many times larger than an ordinary one, with a barrel as big as a fist.

Seeing such a thick barrel, Qian Ye’s eyes twitched involuntarily, reminding him of Zhao Yuying’s “Mountain Cleaver.” If the power matched the size of the barrel, Qian Ye even doubted whether the recoil would break the girl’s delicate wrist.

“I don’t want to shoot you. I was just… scared. You took me to Black Stream City, and I haven’t paid you yet!” the girl explained earnestly.

Qian Ye waved his hand, saying, “Alright, that’s not important. But, are you really just going to earn military merit? The Blood Battlefield is vast; why do you have to go to Black Stream City?”

“Because that’s where the big battles are. That’s the battlefield suitable for me.”

Qian Ye raised an eyebrow, asking, “Where are you from? You sound like you’ve fought a lot.”

The girl hesitated for a while, then said, “I’m a Gao Hu, seventeen years old. I started going to battle when I was ten. For us Gao Hu, ten years old is the age to be a qualified warrior.”

“Gao Hu?” The term was somewhat familiar. Qian Ye suddenly remembered something and asked in surprise, “That race that specializes in producing warriors?”

The girl said, “We Gao Hu are born warriors and live by it. We have no fixed home; wherever there is war, that’s where we survive.”

Qian Ye smiled and said, “But I’ve heard that almost all Gao Hu are with the rebels. And I, I belong to the Imperial Army.”

“That’s because the Imperial Army pays too little, and always sends us to our deaths. We are warriors, not cannon fodder!” the girl argued.

“You say you’re a Gao Hu, prove it to me.”

Hesitating, the girl slowly lifted her cloak, then unbuttoned her top, revealing a tight tactical vest underneath. Her skin was a smooth, wheat-colored hue, with faint silver lines resembling primal force patterns.

Moreover, her left arm was half-mechanical and half-flesh, the machinery deeply embedded into her flesh, integrated with it. This mechanical structure was what allowed her to wield a nearly hundred-kilo power hammer and use high-caliber weaponry.

“As expected!” Qian Ye thought, relieved.

“You… you won’t think we’re monsters, will you?” the girl asked anxiously.

“No, although I’ve never seen one, I’ve at least heard of the Gao Hu. So, tell me your name,” Qian Ye motioned for the girl to put her clothes back on, concealing her startlingly modified body.

“I’m Hei Yue, the youngest Level Three Modified Warrior in my clan! I’m very powerful, you know!” The girl puffed out her chest, looking proud.

The Gao Hu were a unique race, small in number, wandering across various continents. They were born warriors and mechanics. Known for their modified warriors, they combined primal force machinery with their bodies, creating incredibly powerful fighters. In this aspect, the Gao Hu were far ahead of the Qin Empire.

The Empire had secretly conducted modification experiments for years, but beyond the second level, the subjects could not withstand the drastic changes and died. However, the most famous modified warriors of the Gao Hu could reach Level Five, essentially walking, thinking steel giants, pure war machines.

Years of experiments led the Empire to conclude that the Gao Hu’s modification techniques were linked to their unique physical traits. To achieve such strength, an Empire person needed to be a potential Thirteen-Level Warrior, which rendered the modifications pointless. Qian Ye had seen this conclusion during his Red Scorpion days, though the specific data was restricted.

At her young age, Hei Yue had reached Level Six primal force and was a Level Three Modified Warrior, truly remarkable.

Believing her earlier explanation, Qian Ye decided she was indeed seeking military rewards. He hadn’t anticipated that the Blood Battlefield’s influence was growing, like a vast whirlpool, starting to draw in other continents and races.

“What if you encounter other Gao Hu on the battlefield?”

“Of course, I’d fight. Giving our all to let our opponent die on the battlefield is the highest respect we can show,” Hei Yue answered matter-of-factly.

Qian Ye was speechless; the Gao Hu were as crazy and uniquely devout as the legends suggested.

The airship flew through the deep night, the rhythmic hum of the engines gradually becoming less intrusive. During the long flight, Hei Yue, seemingly tireless, climbed all over the ship, opening anything that could be opened. She even climbed to the top to study the airship’s gas bag.

Qian Ye stood silently at the control panel, not moving for hours, only occasionally adjusting the height and direction of the airship.

“How can you stand so long?” Hei Yue, appearing by Qian Ye’s side more than once, asked curiously.

The restless girl couldn’t understand how Qian Ye could stand still for so long, or how he maintained his posture. Each time, Qian Ye just smiled without answering.

Since forming his blood core, Qian Ye felt much calmer, as if waiting for a grand world to open before him.

In the Evernight’s iron curtain, swords clashed and waves raged, but a small northern city remained tranquil. As the hub for most of the Imperial Legions and the frontline command post of the Empire’s Twin Pillars, it was perhaps the safest place in human territory.

Even outside the iron curtain, Evernight’s daylight was brief. By 3 PM, the sun slanted as if about to set.

Lin Xitang walked along the cobbled streets of the small city, accompanied by a single aide. He preferred to walk the distance between the command post and his quarters. Soldiers, outnumbering civilians, often stopped to salute him.

Suddenly, everyone looked up. A long white cloud stretched over half the city, landing in the south. It appeared to be the trail of a fast-moving airship, but at this time, only Zhang Boqian would fly so brazenly over the city.

Lin Xitang looked away and continued toward his residence. His aide, Shi Yan, followed in silence.

His quarters were a small, temporary camp, with Lin Xitang and Zhang Boqian occupying two central tents, surrounded by the Northern Legion and Thunder Cavalry Guard barracks, and beyond them, the living quarters of senior officers participating in the Blood Battlefield.

As Lin Xitang approached his door, his outstretched hand paused, and the door opened. He looked at the man in intricate royal attire, momentarily surprised, then smiled, “Back already?”

With Zhang Boqian’s personality, he wouldn’t wear such formal robes. Having left Evernight a few days ago for the Upper Continent, did he go to the capital and attend a grand assembly?

Zhang Boqian’s brow was dark, his imposing figure standing there like a towering mountain, exerting immense pressure. His sharp eyes bore into Lin Xitang, coldly asking, “What’s this?!” With a wave, he threw something.

Lin Xitang, taken aback, watched as the stack of papers stopped mid-air, not reaching him. These were documents, but in a format unfamiliar outside the capital, tri-folded parchments, occasionally shimmering with primal force. These were memorials exclusive to imperial officials, bearing primal force seals indicating the sender’s identity.

Familiar with state affairs, Lin Xitang quickly recognized several emblems of high-ranking ministers and nobles. These should not be here; even if their contents involved actions to be taken, they should have been distributed as copies, with the originals archived.

He gathered the memorials, not opening them, and asked, “You took these from the Cabinet?”

Zhang Boqian laughed bitterly, “Lin Xitang, these are impeachment memorials from the Grand Assembly.”

Lin Xitang calmly replied, “Impeachment? Isn’t that normal?” From a mere earl’s son to his current position, Lin Xitang had made countless enemies, weathered many storms, and court impeachments were among the more legitimate tactics.

Zhang Boqian harshly retorted, “So it’s normal that even the core members of your own faction are united in accusing you of embezzling military merits, lining your pockets, disrupting the Blood Battlefield, and suppressing dissenters?”

Lin Xitang saw that the emblems belonged to new aristocrats and imperial allies. After a long silence, he simply said, “Alliances in court are about interests. My loyalty lies with the Emperor alone.”

Zhang Boqian, coldly, “These memorials lack the Jing Tang Li family, but many are related by marriage and shared interests.”

Lin Xitang raised an eyebrow, wondering why Zhang Boqian mentioned the Empress Dowager. “Was it your idea or the Emperor’s to make me the Qingyang King?”

Lin Xitang, after a moment of silence, said, “Does it matter?”

Qingyang Zhang’s family produced four marquesses, extremely prestigious. Yet, Zhang Boqian, devoted to martial arts and indifferent to mundane affairs, inherited a non-dominant lineage.

Appointing Zhang Boqian as a king disrupted internal balances. Granting him the title “Qingyang” exacerbated tensions, making the question of who would represent the Zhang family in the upcoming imperial ceremonies—him or the current head—a subtle issue.

The imperial intent was to create trouble for the first-ranked Zhang family, but it also ensured internal unrest.

Zhang Boqian sneered, “It wasn’t a concern before. Do you know why I went to the capital? The Empress wanted to arrange a marriage for me!”