Chapter 181: The Call of the Blood River

At this moment, in the Imperial Military Headquarters, a plain-looking sedan stopped in front of Song Zining.

He was now undoubtedly at the rank of a marshal in both real power and personal combat strength. His outings were also grand. Even in the capital, there would be armored off-road vehicles in front and behind him; one to lead the way, the other to guard, with a standard of ten security personnel.

These ten guards were not for fighting enemies, as no matter how powerful they were, they could never match a divine general like the marshal. Their duty was merely to block bullets for the marshal at critical moments, seizing that fleeting instant.

The convoy slowly left the military headquarters and, following Song Zining’s instructions, headed towards the outskirts of the imperial capital, entering an elegant residential area. Here, independent courtyards lined up in a compact but uncrowded manner, with a tranquil and elegant setting, indeed a good place.

The entire area was very quiet, with few pedestrians or vehicles on the streets. The entrances and exits were guarded by military police from the military department.

Song Zining’s convoy, of course, passed through unobstructed and drove all the way to a small courtyard. An adjutant checked the door number and said, “Number 67, this is it, sir.”

“Wait here.” After giving his orders, Song Zining got out of the car and pushed the door open.

Though the courtyard was not large, it had two sections, and Song Zining walked straight through the main hall to the back. Wei Po Tian stood by the fish pond, tossing a handful of fish food into the water, looking thoroughly bored.

Song Zining stood behind him, but Wei Po Tian was completely unaware, using his left hand clumsily to grab another handful of fish food and throw it into the pond.

After watching for a moment, Song Zining finally spoke, “General Wei, you seem to be living quite leisurely!”

Wei Po Tian, who hadn’t noticed Song Zining’s arrival, was startled and turned around. Seeing Song Zining, he clapped his chest and said, “You scared me to death! Why are you suddenly playing this kind of trick…?”

Before he could finish, there was a sharp slap, and Wei Po Tian felt a stinging pain on his face. This slap was extremely heavy, and his Thousand Mountains couldn’t react in time, leaving him dizzy and disoriented.

“What are you doing?” Wei Po Tian was both shocked and angry, half his face already swollen.

Song Zining’s face was icy cold, and he roared, “Do you think I have the mind to play these games with you?! Qian Ye is gone, and you’re living it up here!”

Wei Po Tian was stunned, “Gone?” He quickly realized something and stammered, “What? Qian Ye is gone? How is that possible?”

This was a designated recuperation area for the Imperial Medical College, where Wei Po Tian, with his newly attached left arm, needed to rest and observe. Though it was quiet, he couldn’t see the latest battle reports, and the final battle in Blacksun Valley had been deliberately concealed, so he was unaware of Qian Ye’s situation.

Song Zining quickly understood that Wei Po Tian wasn’t lying, but his anger only grew. He waved his sleeve, and the scenery in the courtyard changed, now under his domain, ensuring that no sound would leak out.

With the domain set, Song Zining gritted his teeth and said, “If it weren’t for you, this scoundrel, going to find Qian Ye, why would Qian Ye come back to fight? Now, he and Nighteye died together in Blacksun Valley. Are you satisfied with this result?!”

Wei Po Tian was struck dumb, just saying, “Died together with her? How could this happen? I just wanted Qian Ye to stop her.”

Song Zining’s eyes turned red with anger, and he roared, “How many hidden hands were involved in this, and what do you know about it? A fool who can only mess things up! You pushed Qian Ye into battle, putting him in a no-win situation. I did a lot of things against Nighteye for Qian Ye, and even if I die by her hand, I’ll do it willingly. How many times did I wake up without calling for Qian Ye to return? Jundu almost died by Nighteye’s hand, and did I call for Qian Ye? We didn’t speak, but you, this fool, came to meddle! Is your broken arm so important?!”

In a fit of rage, Song Zining reached out and pulled a long sword from Wei Po Tian’s waist, shouting, “That day, you went to Yonglu with one arm broken. Qian Ye, seeing your pain, could not sit idly. Since you brought him back by breaking your arm, I will make sure you never have that arm again!”

Before he could finish, Song Zining swung the sword, aiming at Wei Po Tian’s left arm!

Wei Po Tian’s face was ashen, not dodging or avoiding.

Song Zining’s sword descended like lightning, stopping just as it pierced a third of an inch into the flesh, pointing at Wei Po Tian’s nose and cursing, “Why aren’t you dodging, you bastard?!”

Wei Po Tian said, “You’re right. If not for my broken arm, Qian Ye might not have returned. He came back for me, and I caused his death. Go ahead, cut it off!”

Song Zining’s hand trembled, and the blade cut through the flesh, blood flowing freely. He abruptly stopped, sheathed the sword, and said, “Qian Ye lost his life for you, this fool. Cutting off your arm would be too easy. I have a part to play in this as well. When I settle all the grudges, I’ll come back for you. I’ll take your life first, then meet Qian Ye!”

Wei Po Tian remained silent, suddenly grabbing the blade, pulling out a section. Ignoring the gushing blood, he turned the blade and thrust it toward his heart.

“What are you doing?” Song Zining was startled, and his hand shot out, grabbing Wei Po Tian’s wrist.

Wei Po Tian struggled but couldn’t break free, saying, “I’m sorry to Qian Ye, and I’ll go to apologize to him now!”

Song Zining stared at Wei Po Tian, and after a while, he spat, “You, this fool, even if you go to him, you’ll only make Qian Ye angrier. Since you want to die so badly, do some things for me before you die. At least it won’t be a meaningless death.”

“I owe Qian Ye, not you!” Wei Po Tian still had no fondness for Song Zining.

Song Zining said, “As soon as Qian Ye left, someone started coveting his inheritance.”

Wei Po Tian roared, “Who’s so bold? I’ll kill him!”

“Kill? With what?” Song Zining sneered, “It’s a King!”

“A King? What’s the worst that could happen? Death!”

“Exactly, you’re a fool! Dying like this, what use is it? Just to get a good name for being loyal to your friend?”

Wei Po Tian finally calmed down and said, “Then what should we do?”

Song Zining said, “I heard your Wei family has quite a few death squads. Get a thousand and send them to Yonglu, then contact Carol. I will give them the orders later.”

Wei Po Tian said, “These death squads don’t fear sacrifice, but they need to die with a purpose.”

Song Zining coldly replied, “They are all new faces, and it’s easy to clear their tracks. Just send them over and tell me how to issue the orders.”

“Do I need to go?”

“What for? To tell the whole world you did this?”

“What should I do then?”

“Stay here and recover.”

Wei Po Tian knew his strategy was far inferior to Song Zining’s. He took out a token and said, “This is my Wei family’s secret order. With it, you can mobilize the death squads.” Then, he detailed the activation points of several force arrays.

Song Zining took the token and left the courtyard.

In the depths of the endless void, at the end of the formless darkness, a faint voice suddenly called out, “Qian Ye, Qian Ye…”

The call echoed in the void, traveling an unknown distance.

In the darkness, an awareness stirred, gradually waking up. He listened, hearing the distant call, and after a long time, his first thought emerged, “So dark…”

He opened his eyes, and instead of infinite darkness, he saw faint, floating lights. But he was still very slow, unable to judge the distance of the lights or what they were.

But the calls became clearer.

His second thought came, “I am Qian Ye…”

As if waking from a deep dream, his vision gradually cleared, revealing the endless void, filled with strange, floating objects—mountains, unimaginably huge bones, and remnants of mechanical castles, with twisted steel beams protruding, as if ripped apart by a giant.

Qian Ye wanted to get closer, for the remnants were even larger than a mountain, making the Hall of Heroes look like an ant. If it were whole, it could hold half the empire’s population.

With this thought, Qian Ye rose and flew towards the remnants. He looked down, still seeing the void, and realized he had no physical body.

Looking up, he saw the remnants moving away, increasing the distance. The remnants, the mountains, and the rocks were all moving, incredibly fast, and he couldn’t catch up.

After hesitating, Qian Ye gave up on chasing them. Instinctively, he felt that colliding with them wouldn’t be pleasant.

Turning towards the direction of the calls, Qian Ye flew, feeling a familiar presence, inherently known.

Flying for what seemed like an eternity, he didn’t find the source of the calls, unsure if he was moving. There were no reliable references in this void.

He continued to fly.

Feeling a hint of fatigue, even in his non-physical state, Qian Ye suddenly saw two enormous, dark golden eyes slowly opening. A single glance left him disoriented. When he regained his senses, the scene before him had changed.

A vast river flowed before him, its origin and destination unknown, and the calls came from upstream.

Qian Ye flew towards the river’s source.

This time, he knew he was flying. The river narrowed, turning red, then gold, and soon, the river was a stream of golden light.

The calls were clearer, coming from the river’s source.

Qian Ye suddenly knew what he was seeing: the River of Blood!

Marquis Margo sat under a parasol in his courtyard, sipping afternoon tea, but the fragrance and dappled sunlight through the leaves did not improve his mood.

This was his own clan’s territory on the Warfire Continent, a small place among the human territories, but it was the beginning of his family name.

Margo was one of the last high-ranking elites to be rotated out of Blacksun Valley, and he had been restless for days. Upon returning to Evernight, he found that the battle atop the peak had not appeared in any war reports, making him even more frustrated.

Someone had hinted at the meaning behind the war reports: the battle was under review, with about half of the achievements verified, and the other half still under scrutiny.

Margo was in the scrutinized half, having been captured, leaving him with no choice. He didn’t want to wait on the Twilight Continent, so he took injury leave and returned to his territory.

Suddenly, Margo sensed something was off, and looked around, seeing two demon figures at the garden entrance.

Recognizing them, Margo was shocked, standing up and asking, “Prince Anwen, Lord Eden?!” His face paled, screaming, “Eden, what are you doing?!”

Eden held a long gun, its barrel pointed directly at Margo. Margo knew Eden’s unique abilities, and though he was one rank lower, he had no chance of escaping unscathed.

Eden calmly said, “Sorry, Marquis Margo, I am executing official duties. Please come with me.”

Margo raged, “If anyone is responsible, it should be the Twilight Continent! What does the Council mean by this?!”

Captured high-ranking elites were rare, but not unheard of. Prisoner exchanges and ransom deals were discreet, but well-known.

As for defections, they were forbidden between factions, but when neutral mercenaries were involved, it got messy. If it happened, the Evernight Council agreed to handle internal affairs, reporting the results at the meeting.

After the ceasefire in Blacksun Valley, Margo sensed something amiss but didn’t worry, preparing himself for a possible return to the battlefield. But before the bloodline could punish him, the Council intervened!

Eden didn’t waste words and pulled the trigger.

Margo’s hair stood on end, his blood qi boiling, disregarding the damage. He turned into a shadow, faster than the bullet.

But before he could escape the garden, he hit an invisible wall, and black mist appeared. Anwen, appearing nearby, spread his domain like a net, capturing Margo.

In a desperate move, Margo used his dagger, but with a soft “puff,” Eden’s bullet pierced Margo’s back, and before he could scream, Anwen’s domain vanished, and shadows engulfed Margo.

Chaos erupted in the blood castle as Council troops poured in, slaughtering indiscriminately. Each was a noble, reaping lives with a single shot or slash.

At the edge of the castle’s territory, transport ships hovered, with escort warships patrolling the skies. On the ground, workers were busy constructing large facilities.

The shadows that swallowed Margo came from a device resembling a force cannon. The shadows enveloped Margo, remaining solid, standing on the ground.

Only high-ranking demon nobles could see the precise cutting inside the shadows, Margo’s body being dissected, then converted into pure dark force.

Finally, Margo became a blood core and a mass of blood and dark force.

An old demon meticulously recorded the data.

Anwen turned to a guard, saying, “Lord, you’ve seen the site, you can go back. You shouldn’t be out here, Your Majesty will worry.”

The guard, tall and imposing, was Pratitick.

Pratitick watched the old demon collect the blood core, touching his chin, saying, “Your primal substance analysis method is getting more precise.”

The old demon nodded, bowing, “Darkness is glory. Thank you, Lord, this is our most advanced method, with an error margin of half a force unit, covering all existing force spectra, except for the void force.”

Pratitick shook his head, “But, I think, our dear Emperor may not be willing to analyze that person this way.”

The old demon, knowing the insider, casually said, “If we just need a reference, adding samples from the Dawn Province would suffice. We submitted the results to Prince Anwen last night. It’s fine, we’ll eventually clear those pests corrupting the dark source, sooner or later doesn’t matter.”

Pratitick and Anwen exchanged a glance, saying nothing. They were observers, with decisions and actions handled by greater lords and princes, and in front of the Institute’s senior wizards, they spoke cautiously.

A warrior approached, saluting, “Lords, there’s a food pen behind the castle, including humans.”

The old demon waved, “No need to separate them, Dawn materials don’t affect the overall data.”

The warrior turned, and Pratitick said, “Wait, I’ll see it. I’ve never seen human civilians.”

Later, Pratitick returned, and Anwen dragged him back to the ship.

Pratitick didn’t delay, but as the ship ascended, he gazed out, puzzled, “Are those people really the same species as that marshal?”

Anwen felt there was much to say, but also nothing.

Pratitick, due to his special status, was closely protected by the demons, and even other high nobles of the dark races knew little of his existence. He rarely left traditional demon territories, and his travels were limited, especially avoiding strong Dawn continents, explaining his lack of knowledge.

On the ground, Eden stood at a vantage point, holding his gun.

Below him, the blood clan territory was being rapidly flattened. Everything was disappearing, turned into data by the strange machines.

When the land was completely flat, the mountain of materials was assembled into a monstrous structure, casting a giant shadow over the earth.