When the crowds were dismissed and Song Zining was left alone, his face bore an expression of utmost solemnity. He was well aware that Xu Lang’s ambitions soared higher than the heavens, and he certainly wasn’t someone the Nan Gong family could easily control. There might be others behind him, or other reasons, but neither boded well in the current situation.
Song Zining pondered for a long while, dismissing all distractions, and began to focus on preparing for the upcoming battle. The battles ahead would surely be fierce, and there wouldn’t just be one. Commanding battles wasn’t Qian Ye’s strong suit, so Song Zining decided to take on the responsibility himself.
However, why had that troublemaker not sent any news after such a long time? Could something really have happened to him? Thinking about the vague scene foretold by the Three Thousand Drifting Leaves Technique, Song Zining’s brows furrowed once again involuntarily. It was a world of boundless darkness, with only faint golden sparks flickering like the unyielding will, struggling and stubbornly holding on.
At this moment, Qian Ye was traversing the Black Forest. With each leap, he covered over ten meters, bouncing from one tree to another, his feet never touching the ground. His speed was much faster than before, yet utterly silent.
The Black Forest, though vast, spanned only a few hundred kilometers. After it died, it lost its ability to warp space and time, and soon Qian Ye reached the edge of the forest.
Before him lay a vast, undulating mountainous region, with a grand mountain range stretching towards the sky in the distance. Rivers and ravines crisscrossed the land, creating a complex terrain. However, in Qian Ye’s true vision, the area was far richer in origin power, both more abundant and more pure and lively.
A rich and vibrant environment of origin power almost always meant easier and more effective cultivation, and it also suggested that this land held more valuable resources. Combined with the incredibly complex terrain, it was a natural battlefield.
Qian Ye had no idea where he was; this place didn’t correspond to any location on the war maps in his memory. It was highly likely that he had already ventured deep into the heart of the dark domain.
He looked up at the sky, and the iron curtain above indicated that he was still within the battlefield. But this didn’t mean much; the iron curtain covered a vast area, and it was said that it was slowly expanding in certain directions.
Qian Ye chose a direction at random and followed the edge of the forest. Though he didn’t know his exact location, he deduced from his previous direction that he was likely in the territory of the dark nation. It was always better to be cautious.
But the area was surprisingly calm. As he walked, Qian Ye only encountered a few skirmishes, nothing like the intense fighting around Blackstream City.
These fights were internal conflicts among the dark races, and Qian Ye had no intention of getting involved. He quietly skirted the battlefields and continued forward. Not long after, a crude town appeared on the horizon.
The town was small, with low, rough buildings, almost like a large settlement. Yet, the town was surprisingly bustling, with people coming and going. Tents sprawled outside the town walls, indicating that many visitors had nowhere to stay and had to camp out.
Most of the town’s inhabitants were dark races, but curiously, there were also many humans. At that moment, a squad of human warriors appeared from the distant mountains, heading straight for the town. They were well-equipped and uniformly dressed, clearly belonging to a powerful family, and they were not weak.
Under the iron curtain, their appearance in the midst of the dark races should have sparked a deadly conflict. But to Qian Ye’s surprise, no fight broke out. The dark races passing through the town only glanced at them, their eyes revealing a mix of caution, indifference, and even friendliness.
Eventually, the squad entered the town unharmed, and Qian Ye saw several humans leaving, their faces filled with excitement, as if they had made a great haul.
This scene reminded Qian Ye of the Tulip Market he had visited with William. It seemed this place was similar. The blood war hadn’t destroyed this gray zone; instead, it had made it more prosperous, indicating that the benefits here were greater than the rewards of military glory.
With this in mind, Qian Ye adjusted his clothes and left the forest, heading for the town. He decided to enter as a vampire to see what was happening, more to confirm his location than to trade.
Solo travelers like Qian Ye were a rarity, and both humans and dark races in the vicinity couldn’t help but give him curious glances. Safety in the gray zone was relative, and anyone traveling here or leaving had valuable items. True safety came from personal strength.
Whenever he felt someone’s gaze, Qian Ye would return it with a cold stare, showing no weakness. He was now a newly minted viscount, which placed him in the upper echelons of the Eternal Night. Displaying weakness would be strange for someone of his status and power.
This town was indeed a mix of all sorts. The Tulip Market had only two viscount-level dark warlords, but there were multiple viscounts active around here. After locking eyes with Qian Ye, most would release their aura, a show of strength before parting ways. This was a common way of greeting strangers in the Eternal Night.
As he approached the town gate, two werewolf guards stepped forward. In response to their questioning, Qian Ye simply released a bit of his aura, which immediately intimidated them.
The werewolves, full of reverence, stepped back and bowed, then briefly outlined the town’s rules: no private duels within the town, take it outside if you want to fight, and so on.
Now that he was in the gray market, Qian Ye intended to explore thoroughly. During his last visit to a gray market with William, he had acquired the black titanium annihilation rounds, which proved crucial in subsequent battles.
Now, with his blood core formed, he could perfectly hide his human identity, making it safer than even having William guide him. What was there to fear?
As he entered the town, the clamor washed over him.
The town was bustling, the streets crowded with people, as busy as the commercial avenues of the imperial capital. The houses along the streets had been converted into shops, run by both humans and dark races. Unlike the Tulip Market, where fraud and violence were common, here everyone was busy, hurriedly making deals and moving on.
Transactions were happening everywhere, with people haggling on the streets. It was not uncommon to see humans and werewolves walking arm in arm, more frequent than in the Tulip Market.
Qian Ye followed the crowd to a shop. It was clearly a converted dwelling, with the street-facing wall removed to create a storefront. The shop wasn’t very crowded, mostly run by humans.
What caught Qian Ye’s interest was the shop’s sign, which bore a peculiar mark resembling both a dragon and a snake. The imperial symbol was the Rising Snake, and any coat of arms resembling it was somehow related to the imperial family. Although he couldn’t tell if this mark was related to the Rising Snake, it did bear a resemblance.
As Qian Ye entered the shop, the middle-aged man behind the counter didn’t look up, asking directly, “Race?”
“Ah… Blood race.”
“Title?”
“Um… A new Third-Rank Viscount.” Qian Ye had never seen such an odd way of doing business, so he decided to tell the truth.
Hearing “viscount,” the man finally looked up, nodded in respect, and that was the extent of the etiquette.
Lowering his head again, he continued in a cold tone, “Do you want to deal with humans or other noble-blooded races?”
Qian Ye hesitated, then said, “I have a lifelong enemy, also a blood race.”
“Silver-Lightning Sun Shells, ten blood crystals per round, guaranteed to take down a Third-Rank Viscount. If that’s not enough, I have special supplies from the Song Clan, fifteen blood crystals for one, no negotiation.”
Qian Ye took a sharp breath, surprised that such an inconspicuous shop sold Silver-Lightning Sun Shells, and even had a special model from the Song Clan. Back when he had astonished the Song Clan during their examination, his reward had been three Silver-Lightning Sun Shells, which later saved his life.
The middle-aged man, not waiting for Qian Ye’s response, looked up and said in a slightly indifferent tone, “If you don’t have the money, I have Demonic-Breaking Mithril Shells, standard models, two for one blood crystal, as many as you want, five minimum. If you can’t afford that, next customer, I don’t do small business.”
Qian Ye, now out of ammo and defensive tools, had picked up plenty of blood and black crystals in the Black Forest. Without hesitation, he placed twenty blood crystals on the counter and said, “Two Silver-Lightning Sun Shells.”
The man looked at Qian Ye with some surprise, then turned and walked to the back. He returned a moment later, placing an unassuming wooden box on the counter and sweeping the blood crystals into a tattered cloth bag.
Qian Ye opened the box to find two Silver-Lightning Sun Shells inside. Inside the plain-looking box, an origin array was set up to insulate the shells from the outside, slowing their decay.
Highly satisfied, Qian Ye wanted more, but he had few blood crystals left. The middle-aged man, already waving him off, said, “Next! I don’t have time to waste!”
Leaving the shop, Qian Ye still found it hard to believe he had managed to get two Silver-Lightning Shells. Walking around the town, he used his remaining blood crystals to trade for several blood race origin grenades from another viscount, finally feeling content.
Qian Ye became more interested in this gray market and decided not to leave in a hurry. After wandering a bit, he spotted a dilapidated, overcrowded bar and squeezed in. To gather information, a bar was always the best place, regardless of the country.
The bar was packed, with the air thick with the scent of tobacco, alcohol, and perfume. Most people were already half-drunk when Qian Ye entered.
A bar was a place of debauchery, and the gray market was no exception. Many women wore extremely revealing clothing, some with just a few strips of fabric, exposing everything, both appropriate and inappropriate. Of the four major dark races, three were humanoid, sharing a surprisingly consistent aesthetic, with only the spider-demons being the exception.
Yet, in this cramped little bar, spider-demons couldn’t even fit, except for the one behind the counter. Indeed, the owner of this small bar, named Dusk’s End, was a spider-demon.
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