Chapter 85: Father, Son, and Brothers

Zhao Jiandu savored the sight of Qian Ye, suddenly leaning down and gently tapping his face, saying, “Is this your true appearance, Qian Xiaoye?”

Qian Ye felt an inexplicable strangeness in Zhao Jiandu’s actions, then was taken aback by the annoying name, and suddenly considered a possibility, leaving him speechless.

Wasn’t this Fourth Young Master of the Zhao Clan interested in making things right for Zhao Junhong, thereby noticing such a minor figure as him, and coincidentally discovering that the killer in Li Bin City was also him, thus chasing him down? What a damn coincidence.

Qian Ye gritted his teeth, “My name is Qian Ye.”

The purple pupils of Zhao Jiandu once again ignited with celestial fire. He leisurely took out his glasses and put them on, masking all emotions in his eyes, and asked, “Why did you kill Zhao Youping?”

Qian Ye sneered, not deigning to answer.

“Really, I should have made you suffer first!”

Just as Zhao Jiandu was about to act, something unexpected happened!

Suddenly, he felt his right wrist, gripping the gun, being clamped by red-hot tongs, the intense pain nearly causing him to let go. But when he looked, there was nothing on his wrist; instead, a band of skin two fingers wide turned red and swelled at an alarming rate.

At the same time, Qian Ye, who had the gun pressed against him, moved, a surge of force lifting from below, the Azure Horizon almost flying out of his hand.

Behind his glasses, Zhao Jiandu’s eyes flashed with coldness. Switching the gun to his left hand, he casually stabbed it into the ground beside him.

A purple mist appeared in the palm of his right hand, instantly spreading to his elbow, and with a soft “whoosh,” the mist ignited, immediately controlling the swelling on his wrist, preventing it from spreading further. The invisible binding force dissipated under the purple mist.

Then, Zhao Jiandu struck like lightning, aiming a palm at Qian Ye.

Qian Ye, having just rolled out from under the gun, was in mid-jump when he grunted from a heavy impact, a thin line of blood trickling from the corner of his left eye.

Zhao Jiandu’s fiery palm was already in front of him.

Qian Ye blocked with his arm, but the force sent him reeling, crashing to the ground. Something incredibly heavy pressed down on him, pinning his body firmly.

A still-burning fist landed next to Qian Ye’s left ear, plunging deep into the ground, the purple flames singeing several strands of his hair to a crisp.

Lying on his back, Qian Ye’s vision darkened, his chest feeling like it was on fire, every breath taking immense effort.

Earlier, when his original force defense was broken, his inner strength had already been depleted. In a very short time, he forcibly activated his pupil technique and the Dawn Force. Now, the combined backlash from the pupil technique and the overdrawn original force left him extremely weak, as if the world had torn open a large hole, dragging his soul down with it.

Zhao Jiandu’s voice, close enough to ruffle Qian Ye’s hair, brimmed with anger, “My dear brother, you truly need a lesson!”

Qian Ye, struck as if by a thunderbolt, opened his eyes wide, his thoughts halting abruptly.

Zhao Jiandu withdrew his right hand, grabbed Qian Ye’s collar, and pulled, ripping his front open, revealing a huge scar running from chest to abdomen.

After obtaining his vampire constitution, the scar had flattened somewhat, no longer resembling a grotesque multi-legged worm, but the wound from chest to abdomen remained the same size.

Zhao Jiandu’s hand trembled slightly, his face shifting through several expressions. He gazed into Qian Ye’s eyes, seeing confusion, bewilderment, helplessness, and a hint of anger, but no joy.

Zhao Jiandu said slowly, “Indeed… it’s you.”

“Qian Ye, we have the same father.”

Qian Ye stopped struggling. His vision was still blurred, fragmented black and white lines occasionally flitting across, a sign that the pupil technique’s backlash hadn’t fully subsided, and he was still in an extremely weakened state.

Yet, at this moment, Qian Ye’s mind was more chaotic than his blurry vision.

He had never expected anything from his birth parents. A child from the garbage dumps could only rely on himself. Even blood-related parents could do little in the face of hunger and survival. In such a harsh environment, even if parents sacrificed everything, it was hard to ensure the children’s lives continued.

Therefore, in the garbage dump, age, gender, and kinship were irrelevant. Everyone was simply trying to survive.

Thus, without expectations, there was no disappointment.

In fact, whenever Qian Ye occasionally reflected on the past, he felt incredibly fortunate. In his dark world, he often found a sliver of light as he groped forward.

Whether it was Lin Shuai who took him out of the garbage dump, Song Zining from the Netherworld Training Camp whose friendship lasted, Wei Potian whom he met during recruitment, or those he continually met and bade farewell to in the Evernight lands, even the ambivalent figures like Ye Pupi and William from the dark races, they were all like that.

He cherished all the friendships and kindness he received because they weren’t things to be taken for granted. In this era of war and constant danger, protecting oneself was a difficult task, let alone looking after others.

But now, someone was telling him that his life could have been different?

Qian Ye suddenly found it amusing, even laughing, saying, “I am not.”

Zhao Jiandu’s reaction to the scar on his chest reminded Qian Ye of Song Zining’s warning. He wasn’t naive enough to think he was merely a lost child of the Zhao Clan.

Though he had spent multiple times the effort of an ordinary person in cultivating the Art of Warfare, he had always failed to break through the bottleneck, leading to a frenzied desire for answers. But at this moment, Qian Ye suddenly didn’t want to know anything.

“Song Qi did a flawless job on your identity. Tell me, how much does he really know about our Zhao Clan’s internal affairs?” Zhao Jiandu’s tone carried an unmistakable chill.

Anger flashed across Qian Ye’s face, “What are you getting at?”

“Come back with me.”

Qian Ye laughed, a mocking smile playing on his lips, “You can take my corpse back.” He paused, “Your brother died over a decade ago. What’s alive now is just a child who grew up in the garbage dump of the Evernight Continent. I have no parents, no brothers!”

Zhao Jiandu took a deep breath, raising his hand as if to strike, but upon seeing Qian Ye’s clear, unclouded eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He suddenly released the hand pinning Qian Ye and stood up.

Qian Ye immediately struggled to get up, nearly falling several times but eventually steadying himself.

Zhao Jiandu saw the dried bloodstain at the corner of Qian Ye’s eye and said coldly, “My ‘Western Ultimate Purple Qi’ has reached the realm of ‘Fighting Heaven Fire.’ With just your tiny pupil power, you dared to clash with it. If I had retaliated with full force, you would be blind now.”

Qian Ye smirked, remaining silent.

Vampire abilities required blood essence, and that initial void flash had drained most of Qian Ye’s blood essence. Activating the pupil technique was a desperate move. Qian Ye could lose, could die, but he would never be humiliated. The final struggle was already indifferent to life and death, so blindness didn’t matter.

If Zhao Jiandu underestimated his pupil technique, the next opportunity might bring a surprise.

Zhao Jiandu suddenly removed his glasses, his eyes, now leaping with purple fire, scanned the surroundings, then put the glasses back on. His slightly thin lips formed a stern line, the killing intent quickly suppressed.

He slung the Azure Horizon over his shoulder and tossed Qian Ye a bronze token with jade carvings, saying, “I’ll handle the matter in Li Bin City. Take this, it’s my token. With it, you can enter the Zhao Mansion in Western Ultimate City directly, send messages through the Zhao Clan’s channels, or use the resources under my name.”

Qian Ye caught the palm-sized token and examined it. The jade carving depicted the same strange beast as the engraving on the sniper rifle. He threw it back, saying flatly, “I don’t feel I have a father, nor a brother. If you want to kill me, just do it. Otherwise, I’m leaving.”

Zhao Jiandu didn’t get angry this time, only smiled. He walked to Qian Ye, slipped the token into his hand, and said, “Regardless of whether you believe you have a father, you are my brother. And, your mother once left you a crystal locket, from which your name ‘Qian Ye’ came. It’s her only keepsake, stored in the Zhao Mansion. Don’t you want to see it?”

Qian Ye was taken aback, knowing Zhao Jiandu was tempting him, but still showed a hint of hesitation. After a moment, he finally asked, “Who was my mother? What exactly happened back then?”

Zhao Jiandu, still smiling, said, “I’ll tell you when you return to the Zhao family. Otherwise, forget it!”

“You!!” Qian Ye’s eyes flashed with murderous intent, his fingers itching to punch Zhao Jiandu’s face.

Zhao Jiandu laughed, “You are indeed strong, but you’ll need a few more years to defeat me. If you’re not satisfied, let’s fight again once you’ve fully recovered. If you lose, you’ll come back with me. Do you dare?”

“Goodbye!” Qian Ye wouldn’t fall for the provocation, turning and walking away, leaving behind a trail of Zhao Jiandu’s laughter.

As Qian Ye’s figure completely disappeared over the horizon, Zhao Jiandu’s smile gradually faded, replaced by an indescribable coldness and arrogance.

He slowly turned, the Azure Horizon pointing ahead, saying coldly, “Have you seen enough? If you have, come out and meet your fate!”

There was a commotion in the distance. Many shadows emerged on a low hill hundreds of meters away—two werewolf viscounts with over a hundred warriors, one squad led by a baron pursuing Qian Ye.

One of the werewolf viscounts fixed his greedy gaze on Zhao Jiandu, snarling, “You’re Zhao Jiandu? Good, capturing you might earn us an audience with the prince!”

Holding the gun in one hand, Zhao Jiandu aimed the Azure Horizon at the werewolf viscount, saying calmly, “An audience with the prince? In your next life, maybe!”

With a thunderous roar, the Azure Horizon unleashed a burst of greenish-blue energy. When the green light dissipated, the werewolf viscount and his entire guard had vanished.

Eager to achieve success, the werewolves forgot one thing: the Azure Horizon was a seventh-level sniper rifle, and most seventh-level guns had area attack capabilities, though theoretically, only a count-level warrior could fully activate them.

On the low hill, the remaining werewolf warriors, after their initial panic, grew vicious, howling and leaping towards Zhao Jiandu.

Zhao Jiandu’s face was icy, and with a metallic clang, a sharp blade extended from the muzzle of the Azure Horizon. Still holding the sniper rifle with one hand, he traced a curve in the air, sending out a crescent of greenish-blue blade light that sliced several charging werewolves in half.

Suddenly, the sound of mechanical engines rumbled in the sky, and a high-speed gunboat approached, intercepting the squad chasing Qian Ye. The cannons beneath the gunboat spat out bursts of fire, explosions of various original forces erupting on the ground, inflicting heavy casualties on the werewolf squad.

Zhao Jiandu recognized the boat’s markings, frowning slightly. He leapt to the side, ascending like a bird over three werewolf knights, the blade of the sniper rifle slicing through the air in a watery green arc. When he landed, all that was left behind was a trail of blood and mangled bodies.

By now, the distant gunboat had finished its battle and rapidly flew over, ropes dropping, agile guards rappelling down. Moments later, the fighting ended, leaving only a field of corpses.

Zhao Jiandu climbed to the highest lookout on the small gunboat, where Zhao Junhong stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the twilight over the Desolate Flame Plain.

“Second Brother, why are you here?”

“Someone sold your whereabouts to the werewolves of the Tanka Clan.”

Zhao Jiandu nodded, not asking further. He was used to such things, and if he dared to travel alone, he wasn’t afraid.

He walked to Zhao Junhong’s side, following his gaze, his heart stirring. From this height, the long-range sniper’s view was even more expansive, and he could see a small, dark figure trudging through the red wilderness—a still distant Qian Ye.

In this age of constant battle and unending war, even for chosen ones like them, they could only protect what lay within reach.