In the days that followed, the Black Forest of the southern desolate lands transformed into a bottomless abyss, swallowing all who dared to venture within. No matter how many entered, none returned. Along the forest’s edge, stakes bearing corpses fluttered in the wind, their silent presence a grim testament to the horror that lurked within.
From lone assassins to mercenary bands numbering over a hundred, all met the same fate.
Even the most bloodthirsty and avaricious renegades hesitated. There was a vast difference between gambling one’s life and courting certain death. No matter how high the bounty, one had to have the skill to claim it. By now, everyone acknowledged that those two young men truly deserved the bounty. Many renowned figures couldn’t help but ponder: If they were in Qian Ye’s position, how much would the Wolf King be willing to offer? The answers varied, but none were satisfactory—ranging from a few thousand to, at most, ten or twenty thousand. In all honesty, anyone worth a fifty-thousand bounty wouldn’t be risking their neck on such a gamble.
In the neutral lands, every coin offered as a bounty was well-earned.
But like vultures feasting on carrion, these mercenaries and assassins, despite knowing the odds, refused to give up, at least not yet. They harbored a faint hope that, no matter how formidable Qian Ye was, he would eventually grow weary under the relentless pursuit of the wolves and make a mistake. Perhaps, with a stroke of luck, they might stumble upon a gravely wounded Qian Ye? This could be a life-changing opportunity, one that could alter the fates of generations. It was worth a gamble.
Some more cunning individuals doubted that Qian Ye could have achieved such feats. More likely, the young man was merely a decoy, and the real mastermind lay hidden in the shadows.
Rumors and speculations abounded, yet mercenaries and assassins alike kept their theories to themselves, wary of being outmaneuvered. No one wanted to lose out on the substantial bounty.
The Black Forest fell into an eerie calm, with most groups maintaining a cautious distance. Only a select few could battle freely within its confines, and those who possessed such skills were already hanging from the stakes.
Two weeks passed in this strange quiet, and many began to sense something amiss. Upon inquiry, they discovered that no battles had occurred recently, suggesting that Qian Ye might have left.
Yet, no one dared to be careless. If this were a trap, the first to enter the forest would become the target. Thus, mercenary groups moved with extreme caution, searching inch by inch. At this rate, it would take half a year or more to comb through the entire forest.
As the Black Forest remained in a stalemate, Qian Ye and Ye Tong had arrived at Linqiang City.
The old airship, belching steam, groaned as its outdated engines roared, swaying precariously before plummeting several dozen meters and thudding onto the landing field, barely distinguishable from a crash. But the airships of the neutral lands were built to endure, and even such a landing did not break them.
The hatch opened, and passengers emerged. Despite the tumultuous journey, many showed no signs of distress. Clearly, these were seasoned travelers. A few, however, vomited uncontrollably as soon as they stepped off, emptying their stomachs.
The guards watching over the landing field cast disdainful glances at the vomiting newcomers. “Fresh faces,” one muttered.
An elderly guard replied, “Better that they are new.”
The other guards chuckled, their laughter tinged with malice.
But among the newcomers, Qian Ye and Ye Tong stood out. Their bodies, incredibly resilient, could withstand far worse than the turbulence. Even the most advanced warships of the Evernight Realm, rolling and tumbling for days, wouldn’t faze them.
Stepping off the airship, Ye Tong gazed into the distance, pausing before asking, “Is that Linqiang City?”
Qian Ye looked as well, scanning the surroundings. “It should be. Apart from there, everything else is grassland and farmland.”
“A shabby city, hardly better than our town. Ah, look, that area seems somewhat decent.”
Qian Ye smiled. “One side is Blood Clan style, the other human. Interesting.”
“Let’s go see.”
“We’ll find the old man first. We can check it out later.”
As they conversed, the guards and some passengers listened in astonishment. All looked in the same direction, seeing only a light mist, barely visible a few hundred meters away.
Linqiang City was often shrouded in fog, especially during dawn and dusk. The mist of the Eastern Sea, regardless of thickness, had a unique ability to obstruct perception. The deeper one’s primeval force, the stronger their senses, and the farther they could see. In the neutral lands, there was a traditional test of sight and perception. Targets with numbers written on them were placed in the fog, and the distance one could read them determined their acuity. Many powerful factions used this method to select snipers and scouts.
However, this test was conducted in thin fog; otherwise, it would be too difficult to differentiate. In past tests, the farthest anyone could see was just a little over a kilometer.
Now, the landing field was covered in a light mist, and Linqiang City lay beyond, with the noble district even further. Yet, Qian Ye and Ye Tong saw it clearly. Did this mean their eyesight was the best in the entire Eastern Sea?
They strolled towards Linqiang City, and the guards, initially shocked, began to exchange skeptical glances. A young guard spat, “They must have been here before. They’re just pretending!”
The older guard, more composed, said, “They’re not weak. They’re important people. Why would they pretend in front of us, the small fry?”
“Who knows? Maybe they’re showing off for others,” the young guard grumbled.
“Maybe,” the older guard mused.
No wonder Ye Tong was surprised. Linqiang City, like the later Heilong City, was an independent fiefdom. Nestled at the intersection of several factions, it nominally belonged to Zhang Buzhou, but in reality, the city was governed by hereditary lords. All officials and defensive matters were decided by the lord, who only paid a fixed tax.
This city, home to tens of thousands, was in a state of disrepair. Most of the buildings were low shacks, with nary a four-story building in sight. The small town near the Black Forest, though decrepit, would still rank among the worst areas in Linqiang City. The noble district, which made up less than a quarter of the city, was the only part that seemed decent, but even the tallest buildings reached only six stories. By the standards of the Empire or the Evernight Realm, Linqiang City was a dump. It was no wonder Ye Tong was surprised.
The Evernight Realm, with its long history, boasted countless ancient and magnificent structures. Even the lowest-ranking Blood Clans had imposing castles. Any small town in the heart of the Evernight Realm was more prosperous than Linqiang City.
Yet, as they entered the city, Qian Ye felt a surge of vitality. The streets were lined with shops, and young waiters eagerly lured customers. The streets teemed with people, each one walking with urgency and impatience.
Such a bustling scene, Qian Ye had only seen in the most prosperous cities of the Empire. He stopped a passerby, asking, “Is there a celebration today? It’s so lively.”
The man gave Qian Ye a once-over, snorted, and said, “Celebration? It’s always like this. You’re just being a country bumpkin!”
Qian Ye tried to ask more, but the man was already impatient. “Enough! I’m dealing with gold coins, I don’t have time for your questions. Time is money, country bumpkin!”
The man strode off, exuding a self-important air.
Qian Ye was taken aback. He looked at his attire—standard hunter gear, nothing out of the ordinary. In Linqiang City, such outfits were common. Puzzled, he turned to Ye Tong, who was laughing gleefully.
Qian Ye, humbled, asked, “What’s wrong with my outfit? Do I look like a country bumpkin? Or did he somehow see through me?”
Ye Tong, still laughing, pointed at Qian Ye, her laughter doubling in volume.
Perplexed, Qian Ye checked his attire again, finding no fault. He reluctantly asked again, “What’s wrong? Did he see through my disguise?”
Ye Tong, now bent over with laughter, said, “I mean, why don’t you check your current primeval force level?”
Qian Ye realized the mistake. Before entering the city, they had altered their appearances and suppressed their auras. To an outsider, Qian Ye appeared to be a second or third-level individual. Such a person, while elite in the Empire, was commonplace in the neutral lands. Survival here required a higher level of strength.
After all, the man had judged him by his surface appearance.
Qian Ye shook his head. “Alright, let’s find a place to stay, then we’ll find the old man.”
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