The situation of the war was extremely complex. Lin Gang City had technically not joined any camp; it was unfortunate only in being chosen as a battlefield. Yet everyone knew that true misfortune did not exist: someone simply wanted something from Lin Gang City—but whether it was one or all parties still lingered in confusion.
In terms of forces involved, Spider Emperor and Moonlight White Devil hailed from outside bloodlines while Wolf King fought on behalf of human kin. Within Lin Gang City the majority of residents belonged to humanity, as did its sovereign, Su Dingqian; and yet, concerning the employment of Qian Ye, precautions resembled a defensive stance—specifically warding against threats akin to Wolf King.
Qian Ye still hadn’t settled precisely whom his true enemy might be. However, Su Dingqian held a staunch stance—delineating land across a hundred kilometers surrounding Lin Gang City as active war zones. Any regiment daring intrusion within this scope would draw immediate hostile action.
With late-night hush enveloping earth, Qian Ye silently assembled his arsenal, awaiting dawn’s approach in courtyard solitude.
When dawn spilled golden rays onto earth’s surface, Qian Ye departed courtyard. At city gate, deputy captain of city guardian elite awaited, personally commanding carriage escort to transport Qian Ye out.
“General Zhao, you travel beyond walls at this hour instead of waiting for dusk?” Since Qian Ye possessed status among city guards, the title had altered accordingly—formally addressed by honorifics reserved for battle-lauded heroes.
To most warriors, concealment under nightfall was strategic cover for culling opponents—however, Qian Ye remained silent, his response merely an unexplained chuckle. Deprived of answer, the captain did not pursue questions further—for fighting styles of might remained a sacred, private matter, and intrusiveness bore inevitable consequence.
Having conveyed Qian Ye ten kilometers beyond walls, the deputy steered chariot homeward.
Lin Gang’s territory bore no towering mountains nor rugged peaks—an expanse instead marked with mellow hills and gentle valleys—an ideal terrain indeed for titans’ clash. Outside of its gate coursed a mighty river winding its way into infinite East Sea.
After deputy had gone, Qian Ye gave a hand gesture causing his battle bag to vanish instantly—conveying within mystic void guarded by Anduya. He unfurled map and noted settlement mere kilometers distant from position—prompt decision settled accordingly—to investigate there.
Such distance posed no significant travel, arriving at town promptly thereafter.
This town bore moderate size; at a glance could ascertain approximately thousand souls lived amid lowly buildings, scarce rising even to second storeys. Torn and shaken by Dragon-Shaped Earthquake spanning hundred leagues afar, cycles of collapse and reconstruction seemed ever-occurring. Resources lacked for protective formations or arrays that might ward misfortune: the very essence of towns such as this.
As Qian Ye tread into village midst, chaos erupted. Many prepared possessions and fled homesteads toward Lin Gang; fewer scattered aimlessly in opposing directions. Elders, seemingly clan leadership, directed masses of kin gathered nearby:
“This impending clash clearly sets sights directly upon Lin Gang! Racing toward city’s embrace in midst of conflict is nothing short of leaping recklessly into flaming abyss! What defensive capabilities does this city possess? Its walls—low enough that even I could spring across now!”
“But city holds Lord Su!” younger clan members argued with unconvinced defiance.
“You must comprehend: Lord Su, despite might, functions singly as only one individual! Can he possibly surpass beings the stature of Wolf King or Spider Emperor?”
“And more importantly—how deeply can he truly care for us? Even if such heavens-defier chooses protect city—we pawns, should misfortune strike proximity—we face inevitable erasure.”
Though discontent burned in hearts, the youthful could scarce counter elder, eventually ascending sullenly up vehicle. Two lumbering armored trucks ground into activation—gradually retreating to distance, hauling precious cargo into unknown horizons—a symbol of influence and status in land where securing two such machines marked this family amongst prominent local bloodlines.
Strikingly unexpected to Qian Ye: primary occupants were vigorous youth exhibiting signs of martial aptitude and latent strength—one capable of passing as competent sentry among city’s defenders. Behind, plodded noncombatants: elders and sickened women with children in tow, scarcely a pulse of aura detected among.
Upon observation, insight dawned. This family’s goal crystalline: conserve fighting strength’s peak vitality, ensuring readiness amidst potential threats on arduous exodus. Elder, younger, weak would serve as necessary sacrifice—to sustain progress and shield primary fighters.
In such moments the cruel undercurrents marking the Neutral Lands manifested—bare truths hidden beyond gilded façades of survival and power.
Groups continued migration away—from homes to unknown futures seeking survival’s refuge. Within empires, such youths may serve honorably among warrior legions, but in this merciless neutral territory, they existed only as discarded cogs beneath machine of fortune.
As Qian Ye traversed town thoroughfares midst of escaping citizens, sudden awareness sparked. Amid shifting throng, deep shadow-lined alley revealed collapsed figures—one beside another—lifeless.
He walked toward entryway, darkness consuming light at entrance as acrid odors met senses. Two wore attire akin to local folk—now crumbled amidst mire stained a dark purple—as if rivers crimson had already spilled their entirety into dirt’s keeping.
Heavy breathing echoed beyond corridor corner; pounding heartbeat distinct, revealing concealed individual tense to limit.
Qian Ye appeared ignorant. Step crossed into darkness between two bodies before turning sharp inward around passageway’s corner. An enemy leapt forward violently—his curved dagger lanced unceremoniously into his victim’s flank: speed matched by lethal brutality.
Yet assailant bore neither skill nor strength for such ambitions. As weapon reached fabric, opponent grasped intruding steel and redirected—not only evading dagger point but crushing wrist mid-arc of failed ambush. Shattered bone sounded in sudden snap beneath pressure.
Cry of agony rent stillness apart before attacker dropped to surface, writhing from shock—entire body seized in pulsions of indescribable agony. Clad as mercenary force, wrapped crudely by bandages oozing fresh red, additional scars adorned torso—telltale signs: wounds fresh unhealed—no time for repose between pain’s embrace.
Despite tragic image before him, Qian Ye bore no pity, granting only cold judgment he so oft displayed. Toward those daring to murder one unprovoked—mercy had seldom found its way.
With motion abrupt and effortless, assailant hoisted against unyielding wall surface, bladeless, battered form pinned motionless by one firm limb.
“Your motive?” A soft voice asked—dispassionate as ice. “Say only enough, and my decision will offer you peace.”
Pierced soul spoke weak amidst anguish, gaze strayed beyond toward two dead:
“Assumed you aligned with them. Thoughtlessly assumed. We just escaped death—our troop once a force numbering over ten souls. Survived only three—now only two.”
“Then came these damn townfolk seeing vulnerability—they sought our gear, our lives.”
“Braver still though grievously injured, ‘Old Wang’ and ‘Iron Tiger’ perished in these back alley rats’ claws—not on battlegrounds, but within city we bled defending.”
Peering now, following his indication—further back within corridor’s depth another two rested—already departed souls of two similarly outfitted fighters, slouched motionless in silent stillness against the same brick boundary. And lying sprawled around them: bodies of nearly five more villagers—scarcely any lacking gashes from blade or bullet wound of cruel intensity—struggle fierce, abrupt end brutal, as unsuspecting citizens underestimated strength of three dying dogs.
Now this man—remaining one alive but briefly—sustained grievous damage that left mere hours. Choosing narrow gateway as location to lie in wait; waiting only for next soul so he could ensure one or another might pay for it all before departing this world alone.
Qian exhaled inwardly as another lesson sank deeper within: such was state of existence beneath Neutral territories’ banner.
Releasing grip, body tumbled onto ground with thud, while its previous holder proceeded forward into the darkness.
“Wait—help me!” pleads from behind echoed hollow amid alley silence.
Undeterred, feet found forward path still, as deaf to appeals.
“You possess such might! Yet you’d not assist such one?” Voice strained—desperation laddering upward.
He moved still without answer while nearing edge of passage.
Visage contorts in wrath, fury igniting with every fading echo:
“If you’ll not help me, join me and bleed then!”
With remaining uninjured hand—seizes energy pistol—and without warning fires at Qian’s skull.
One subtle lateral step—a path carved between seconds in which the projectile streaked harmlessly astray.
Such trivial grade weapons fired at such slow rate mattered little—could he choose ignore movement entirely and allow charge against flesh—the energy shell itself possessed no power capable truly harming him.
In response, twin-flower pistols emerged from holsters, uncoiling triple bursts in reply. The original grasping limb—and the stolen artifact with it—exploded. A second pair struck down legs with final shot sealing crippling fate.
In motion swift shadow flickers. Before wounded figure stood Qian Ye newly arrived.
“Lay there and slowly pass into peace,” he declared simply.
Echoes of dying mercenary wails and broken curse followed trailing steps outward into sunlight.
He held no remorse. Such petty curses possessed zero effect—only physical suffering remained—adequate reckoning fitting those who dared such rash treachery. Yet amidst his own detachment stirred flicker of concern—reaching within himself—did this world truly bear only those who had gone hopelessly astray?
Mass exodus continued: villagers in thralls searching escape from inevitable warpath’s arrival. Amid migration’s tide—occasional gunshots broke stillness, punctuating tense standoff between desperate groups. Families clumped, guns raised toward potential invaders, every movement a show of force: predator eyes met wary gaze from adjacent rival packs.
Leaving this scene at once, Qian Ye pursued another heading further.
Approximately another ten kilometers ahead: sizeable village housed few hundreds amidst its rustic walls again, yet another typical settlement among those scattered densely at Lin Gang’s outskirts.
Such townships populated densely across area—the aftermath effects following “Dragon Earthquake” periodically summon dangerous刺 rat fishes crawling forth from their deepest hidden earth tunnels: thus forming the life-source commodity for those who settled there.
These border lands historically functioned under Lin Gang’s suzerainty. Each small hamlet owed taxes for the privilege: rights that bound them under city watch and protection.
Midway through day passed, he completed巡视 several villages. Most outlying settlements vacated fully; none remained—only infirm elders barely capable of movement were left alone without guidance.
Closer settlements showed few scattered souls, most preparing hasty departures; the air thick with the stench of imminent exodus.
Within Neutral territory, grand skirmishes marked divine-grade generals—far from rarity. Su had fought repeatedly against rivals including Spider Emperor, Wolf King—an undeniable reputation. Neutral cities, including Lian Gang, had not achieved autonomy effortlessly; power carved through relentless bloodshed upon war’s anvil.
Even amidst such surveying journey, random skirmish erupted. Qian suddenly found encountering bandits dressed as mercenary troops—ten in their party. Having already preyed upon local populace: stripped bare those yet awaiting salvation. They had yet avoided confrontation, selecting only defenselessly scattered clusters of villagers, exploiting weakness without scruples for survival.
Noticing lone individual like himself, wolves surrounded, ready to harvest easy profit.
Their plan bore fruit—alas—results came only at their total erasure into afterlife.
By day’s first breath concluding, even a handful of battles Qian had faced were already fought entirely alongside Human Blood Mercenaries.
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