Chapter 171: The Return to Shi Bao Fortress

The sky had not yet fully brightened when the three set off from their temporary camp, hastening toward the indigenous stone fortress. Without Bai Guo, a weight pressed heavily upon each of their minds, and none of them dared to waste even a moment. Though Ji Tianqing knew nothing of how Qian Ye and Li Kuanglan survived the cold night, she understood the immense strain Qian Ye had endured — alone, carrying not just his own weight, but dragging two lives upon his exhausted form.

Before night fell once again, they desperately needed something to replace Bai Guo — any substitute, even if slightly inferior. The most promising target lay undeniably within the castle of the four-armed indigenes. Therefore, the trio decided to infiltrate the fortress again. If feasible, they would crush the fort entirely and discover just what secrets the four-armed tribesfolk guarded. At a minimum, they had to learn how they too endured the freezing nights — surely not only through physical endurance. Even a lower tiered powerhouse, such as Li Kuanglan or Ji Tianqing, could not conceive that the tribe’s bodies would exceed theirs.

Not long later, they neared the stone fortress and dropped into stealth mode, beginning their reconnaissance. Looking inside provided little insight. Chaos ruled, with large crowds milling and mating indiscriminately — apparently, food was on their minds alongside reproduction alone.

After watching for a brief time, Li Kuanglan became impatient first, snarling, “Just slaughter all of these vile vermin. What’s the point in conversing with filth?”

Ji Tianqing immediately concurred, “Then let me toss in one of those hand grenades, and the place would definitely quieten down.”

Qian Ye hastily objected, wryly smiling, “Indeed it would, but then finding anything meaningful could kiss the dark goodbye!”

“Why are you hesitating?” Ji Tianqing asked in return, her voice betraying barely-contained annoyance.

Qian Ya’s mind brimmed oddly as logic dictated both women to be poised in grave moments like this — so why now did impatience reign among them? At least Li Kuanglan could be partially understood; her mental fortitude nearly buckling through countless crises days prior. Why Ji Tianqing, usually so composed, was flaring in agitation too, puzzled him deeply.

Among such high-ranking warriors’ circles, small signs spoke of larger truths — when patience faded, instinct gradually surged beyond constraint.

Though a fortressful might pose challenges, greater lay solely with the white mist exhaled by the four-limbed tribesmen. Qian Ye was crystal clear that inhaling it fully meant losing control instantly. Although Qian Ya remained confident that prior to such loss there still existed time to massacre every wretch, the fates of Ji Tianqing and Li Kuanglu were too fragile amidst the unknown aftermath of unbound frenzy.

Perhaps Li Kuanglan had seen right: loss was inevitable from the beginning, Qian Ya simply sought some pretense that would grant him peace.

Yet to this heartbound man, safeguarding emotions’ purity and perfection still ruled higher. Nightfang for him had embodied wife — home itself — no matter which self had emerged pre or during evolution.

Even if chaos was to rule, a reason stood preferable to naught.

Realizing Ji Tianqing and Li Kuanglan could supply no solution, Qian Ya took up thinking, withdrawing the Zang Xin swiftly, targeting four archers upon four watchtowers for extermination.

Unexpected resistance arose, however, as Ji Tianqing gripped his shoulder.

“No guns!”

“Why so suddenly?”

“During the daylight’s usage, origin force rifles send far-reaching ripples, like torch-flaming amidst utter darkness! It would gather every single savage nearby — and your gun especially, a veritable eruption of volcanic force — and afterward, no more actions — you only need your legs running.”

Caught off guard, he realized Ji Tianqing carried scars of experience in this matter, and so, defeated, Qian Ya reluctantly resheathed his rifle. But one used to wielding overwhelming might rarely prepared to substitute it with bows.

Nevertheless, he brought experience, battlefield prowess in particular, dwarfing the other ladies in quantity. Moments later a new plan coagulated.

Crawling stealth, Qian Ya erupted — darting before the fortress, catching many indigenous gladiators eyes. With feigned fright and a dramatic turn, Qian Ya fled towards the forest pursued by many a savage blade, each one hot on his trail toward doom.

Entering deeper into green shadow, those natives met their fate as knife-armed vengeance waited silently. The moment they foolishly dashed past a cloaked form standing tall upon blood-dark soil, a dozen corpses joined the leaves carpeting beneath silent trees.

As the first ambush played to plan, the hunt resumed to gradually thin the ranks still nestled in stone.

Yet as once again he moved to lure, Ji suddenly yanked his shoulders, urging instead:

“She’ll go.”

Surprise danced on Li’s face. Eyes turned red for a moment, yet she refrained from refusing. Wordlessly yielding his sniper station upon the returned exchange of East Peak’s hilt into Qian Ya’s firm grasp, he steeled for defense.

Quickly thereafter Li vanished like swirling mist returning to fog-laden forest lands, hot pursuits in tow; dozens following behind her like a thundercloud, chasing across forest floor, two massive hulks amongst blackening waves.

Surpasses by two four-handed titans closing fast, one slip more and those taloned grip would tear flesh from bone. Horror seized Qian Ya’s mind. Disregarding positioning and timing, Qian sprang from dense cover into open field; lunged amidst their formation like vengeful specter; Life Devour erupted. Nearly half collapsed.

Two pursuing behemoth warriors followed fast past Li’s steps into green maze only — to find themselves launched airborne like rag toys snared in ghostlike grip from invisible silk thread. Held dangling mid-air by a thin, nearly-transparent cord entwined tightly round powerful necks. Ji Tianqing smirked; yanked sharply.

Whirlwind snapped limbs off torsos mid-flight; arterial torrents soared.

With those monsters dispatched, rest followed easily — one after another they toppled beneath Ji’s punch as flies before rolled paper.

Rejoining, a pale complexion stained her face — not of fear of death alone, but from dread of being captured, and used violently. Her stare fixedly turned upon Ji, whose grin widened:

“No worries! No need to fear! They simply wouldn’t have overtaken you with such singular focus. Just run properly!”

Ice-laden voice formed words: “Saying it so easily, do you, by any chance know precisely, those beasts running pace? Precisely?”

A mischievous glint shimmered in Ji eyes: “No, why would I know that?”

The incredulous expression Li sent spoke volumes—battlefield contact, days of skirmishes, hundreds faced—could Ji really be unaware of their full capability for speed? But further silence reigned after denial.

“Besides—those two happened extra fast,” Ji quickly added, “but if captured even moments more, wouldn’t we still save you?”

Dark red fury seeped into Li’s veins while thoughts raged: seconds were more than enough for atrocities unimaginable amidst their primal abandon — likely Ji schemed all ahead precisely — calculated the chasms of speed disparity to stage it all — orchestrated as cruel a psychological ambush as possible. And worst: It Worked — fear had indeed been conjured true. If she could not forget this shaming near defeat…How to ever recover honor in her eyes when leaving the maelstrom behind?

If Ji faced reverse, Li could not imagine how she’d retaliate — but Li, bound entirely to straight paths and martial perfection, lacked finesse in strategy’s dark weaving. Whereas Ji, a cunning fox brimming with endless stratagems — truly matched only existed perhaps in one person.

As宋子宁 drifted across Li’s consciousness…

Both entangled mentally amidst tangled boughs ignored the third, alone — for amidst tangled threes and bramble, Qian Ye — weaponless but not without grace — stood now pressed back against blade-bearing bodies encircling him.

Pain surged beneath his flesh, skin tearing inward while appearing outwardly unblemished. Every motion turned stiff as bone daggers bit armor deeply and blood began spurting.

A deep wound struck. Oddly, the pain lifted his tension; twisting fast to grapple and break the spine holding dagger; leaping forward in wild melee frenzy, breaking all nearby adversaries bones.

Without waiting for further attack, he retreated; fleeing into forest depths.

Within bark-shadow safety, only then blood black sprayed across leaves, coughed hard — now unable suppress the backlash upon body. Refraining from refining vital energy earlier transformed devastating assault into equal injury for both sides.

Hurt yet alive, his injuries contrasted with companions — whole and battle-tested still. More than half were felled already.

What remained was few. Mainly elderly; women, mothers, children among regular indigenous — the rest merely comprised double-armed non-combatant elders.

Only fewer four-handed remained — top male pair now corpses under Ji’s silk handiwork.

Decision followed — he’d recover silently from under trees.

She and ji, continuing baiting raids, drew in enemies successfully. Indeed these beings bred with only mind-set. Even defeated grievously moments ago — seeing Li again sent pursuit parties rushing forth; lessened but still: a party came bearing only pair of four-handed female soldiers flanking dozens of their kin.

Such paltry numbers made little difference — neither spared hesitation — merciless slashes followed swift.

Linguistically irreconcilable, no reasons remained in keeping any alive.

Afterwards, even with retreats; with deaths echoing like hollow drums across fortress walls — savages gradually learned caution.

Seeing them again now caused no pursuers chasing. But then Ji changed Li clothing; altered her hairstyle completely anew – and lo!

Like foolish creatures drawn magnetized — new hunters exited.

Evidently, the limits of primitive intellect were small. But regardless — no more numbers answered calls beyond those.

For within fortress, the male elite vanished. Nearly none remained with strength.

Now Qian Ye had healed — and together all advanced together — cleaved through remaining guards — slaughtered mercilessly. Remaining were frail: elders, mothers, children. All ran forth; scattering amidst surrounding forest thickets.

He cared naught for pursuit; together all rushed forth into stone citadel; searching every crevice for potential secrets.

It lay filth-choked; dirt and waste covering all — overgrown weeds; collapsed stonewall. Exactly as they previously perceived — still odd: little of any stench arose; no rancid decay — perhaps attributed to nightly killing frost preventing rot entirely.

Sheltered huts pressed against inner walls — primarily the double-handeds dwelled here: mud mixed with dry stems — weak walls cracked through. Insde hovels lay minimal: crude hearths and skin hides. Life utterly threadbare existed for these people — neither relationships existed; nor hierarchy marked; at will — they coupled wherever — strong or frail — neither respected over others.

Central fortress — reserved quarters lay the four-handed ones — and here Ji obtained that Bai Guo previously taken.

Thus the stone fortress revealed itself: foul, chaotic, devoid of any hope — much like their wretched existence trapped by frigid nights and feral hunger.