Chapter 69: The Uprising

The dark races’ eyes were filled with malevolence. The warriors who had been standing close to Qian Ye clearly heard that his origin power was almost depleted. Without origin power, a warrior, no matter what level, was not much stronger than an ordinary person.

Qian Ye, seemingly unaware of the peril he was in, pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and took a deep drag. He then smiled faintly and said, “Would you like one?”

A Spider Demon and two Bloodkin roared, leading the charge towards Qian Ye.

A ring of sword light suddenly appeared, sweeping across the bodies of the three warriors. Their bodies continued to rush forward, only separating into upper and lower halves after taking a few more steps.

“Everyone, attack together!” someone shouted, and the crowd surged forward.

In the center of the battlefield, Qian Ye wielded his East Peak sword, his strikes creating a flurry of shadows. Whether it was the Bloodkin, the Spider Demons, or the Werewolves, any warrior touched by the edge of the sword would immediately erupt in a spray of blood.

Qian Ye repeated the few basic sword techniques extracted from the Black Book, but each strike brought a gory storm, with severed limbs and chunks of flesh flying everywhere. Dark warriors fell in droves, and the occasional attack that landed on him left only shallow wounds even when struck with full force.

After a fierce slaughter, the dark warriors finally lost their courage and began to retreat.

Around Qian Ye, dozens of corpses lay, and those who still retained some mobility were groaning and gasping for breath. Qian Ye removed the cigarette from his mouth, looked at it, and tossed it to the ground.

Beneath his feet, a river of blood had formed, and the burning cigarette extinguished with a sizzle as it hit the blood.

Qian Ye suddenly drew the Phantom Mandala Flower, aiming it far away and firing a shot. A craftsman who had tried to escape was blasted down by the shot.

Qian Ye pointed the Phantom Mandala Flower at the gathered craftsmen and said, “No craftsman is allowed to leave. Anyone who dares to run will end up like that one.”

Someone in the crowd shouted, “Run in different directions!” Some craftsmen, moved by the idea, turned to flee. But Qian Ye held only a short gun; how many shots could he fire, and how many people could he stop? However, just a few steps into their flight, several explosions erupted at their feet, filling the air with the acrid smell of gunpowder. They were hand grenades!

The craftsmen froze, and those farther from the explosion were still not convinced. But as soon as they took a step, several grenades exploded right in front of them, as if guided by unseen hands. The craftsmen finally stopped, turning back to look.

Qian Ye watched them with a sardonic smile, tossing a grenade up and down in his right hand. In his left, he now held a heavy cloth bag, which, judging by its bulging shape, was filled with grenades.

The craftsmen’s faces paled. Some of them were of high rank, even seventh or eighth-level nobles, but most of these esteemed craftsmen spent their time dealing with origin power arrays and lacked combat experience. Even if they enhanced their personal strength, it was to set up higher-level arrays.

Even if the grenades in Qian Ye’s hands were merely explosive, they could cause serious injuries, if not death. Splitting up and running was a joke; no one wanted to become cannon fodder for Qian Ye’s firepower.

A few craftsmen pinned their hopes on the baron’s army, looking around, only to find that the surviving dark warriors had taken the opportunity to flee while Qian Ye was intercepting the craftsmen.

When Qian Ye threw an origin power grenade near them, the intense surge of origin power knocked down the nearest craftsmen, all the craftsmen obediently retreated to the edge of the array, no longer daring to move.

On the other side of the mountain, Zhao Yuying swung her war blade, severing the head of the Spider Demon viscount, and sneered, “Trying to outpace me, you’re just asking for death.”

She suddenly remembered something and exclaimed, “Qian Ye!”

Zhao Yuying, having had her fill of killing, realized she had left Qian Ye, who was out of origin power, in the mine with at least a hundred dark race warriors.

She didn’t even bother to collect the spoils, rushing back to the mine with all her might.

Moments later, Zhao Yuying returned to the mine and was stunned when she saw Qian Ye.

In the center of the mine, a table and chairs had been set up, and Qian Ye was sitting leisurely, sipping tea with the East Peak by his side. Two Bloodkin stood beside him, reporting something with great respect. Dozens of craftsmen were busy in the central origin power array, dismantling and sorting recently installed components.

It looked as if Qian Ye was the master of the mine.

Zhao Yuying strode up to Qian Ye and asked, “What’s going on here?”

Qian Ye shrugged, “Just what you see.”

“Where are the dark race warriors?”

“Do you remember there were dark race warriors here?”

Zhao Yuying felt a bit guilty, her voice softening, “Well, I… I just got carried away. You see, you’re fine now…”

Qian Ye shrugged, “Keep this up, and you’ll get me killed someday!”

Zhao Yuying, knowing she had dodged a bullet, beamed and put her arm around Qian Ye’s shoulder, “Nonsense, following your big sister, there are plenty of benefits!”

Hearing this, Qian Ye felt a deep sense of foreboding about the future.

At that moment, a muffled boom echoed, followed by a series of explosions. From a mine entrance with steel bars on the east side, thick black smoke and flames billowed out. The tightly closed door collapsed, and a large group of miners and slaves rushed out, mostly human, but with a mix of dark races.

These were likely the slave miners who had been working deep in the mine, along with some overseers. For some reason, they had blown open the emergency exit.

A massive, disheveled horde surged forward, most wearing tattered clothes and looking haggard, wielding mining tools, and without any decent weapons. A few werewolves were naked, running on all fours, their manhood swinging between their legs.

It was still too early for the craftsmen to completely dismantle the origin power array. The array’s instruments and mediums were extremely delicate, and a single misstep could damage them. If trampled by hundreds of miners, the array would be destroyed.

Qian Ye frowned, seeing the direction of the approaching horde. They were not scattering but rushing towards the center of the square, clearly instigated by someone. These unskilled masses posed no real threat to Qian Ye and Zhao Yuying, who had defeated the Stuka Baron, but they could create chaos, destroy the array, and give the craftsmen a chance to escape.

Qian Ye glanced at the craftsmen working on the array. Some had indeed paused, looking afar. He said coldly, “Get back to work.”

Qian Ye did not repeat his threats, but the craftsmen sensed the deadly intent and shivered, continuing to dismantle the array. They had no doubt that the next grenade in Qian Ye’s hand would land on their heads, not their feet.

The horde approached rapidly, and someone shouted, “Charge! Whoever kills that pair of dog bastards will be granted freedom by the baron!”

Many slaves’ eyes turned red, roaring like beasts and charging forward, wielding whatever tools they could as weapons.

The instigator’s motive was clear: most of the miner slaves were human, and he wanted to see if Qian Ye and Zhao Yuying could bring themselves to kill so many of their own kind.

Qian Ye hurled several explosive grenades, creating a line of fire in front of the horde, and shouted, “Back off! One more step, and you die!”

His voice, amplified by origin power, thundered across the square, but the slaves did not stop, pushing each other forward, ignoring Qian Ye’s warning.

Qian Ye’s face turned icy. Among the crowd, he saw many dark races, making it impossible to distinguish who were the exiled slaves and who were the hidden manipulators.

The horde was nearing the origin power array.

Qian Ye hesitated briefly; he had plenty of origin power grenades, and a few well-placed ones could take out nearly a hundred miners.

At that moment, behind him, Zhao Yuying’s enraged, murderous voice boomed, “You dare to play this game with me?!”

Following her words, a dozen origin power grenades flew in a straight line towards the oncoming horde.

“I’ve killed more people than you’ve ever seen!” Zhao Yuying finished her boast.

The slaves, whether human or dark race, recognized the grenades. The horde fell into chaos, with those in front trying to retreat, while those behind kept pushing forward.

The grenades detonated simultaneously, casting a wall of blinding origin power light in front of Qian Ye. The stench of blood grew thick, and the front line of several hundred slaves fell, leaving a wide swath of death.

Few survived the initial blast, and the few still alive screamed in agony, terrorizing the remaining slaves into a state of shock. No one dared to advance further. Zhao Yuying’s ruthlessness had finally intimidated them, making them realize she had the audacity to kill everyone.

Some slaves, finally fearful, turned to flee. More grenades whistled through the air, but this time they arced over their heads, landing behind them. The fastest dozens of runners turned into corpses.

Trapped, with no way to advance or retreat, the slaves were at a loss. Some, overcome by fear, knelt and begged for mercy.

Zhao Yuying threw her backpack to the ground, revealing it was filled with origin power grenades. Though many were used, half remained. She scanned the area, finding two boxes of explosive grenades under the table Qian Ye had been sitting at, meant to intimidate the craftsmen.

She strode over, kicking the heavy boxes to rest beside her backpack. Returning to her spot, she picked up two grenades, tossing them alternately, and sneered at the horde.

The slaves stirred, and the craftsmen at the origin power array worked frantically, no longer looking up.

Zhao Yuying said coldly, “I’ll give you a chance. Who ordered you to charge here? Point him out, and also point out all the old spider people. Otherwise, there are plenty more where these came from!”

Although most of the grenades were explosive, the slaves were not skilled in origin power, and for them, the explosive and origin power grenades were equally lethal. Any hit would be fatal.

The slaves began to look around, and soon, several dark races were isolated from the crowd.