“Splash!” Pingzong emerged from the water, dripping wet.
Immediately behind her, a cluster of black heads also surfaced.
Earlier, after she had turned into the tunnel and entered the waterway, she had intended to use the water waves behind the tunnel to scatter the pursuing soldiers, just as she had done at Chongming Palace. Who knew that this batch of men was far more elite than the first group of soldiers, and their equipment was much more advanced. The moment they entered the water, their combat suits became slick and smooth, moving through the water like fish without any resistance. Webs also sprouted from the soles of their feet, and with just a gentle flick, they could cover several zhang, swimming even faster than her.
The weapons in the hands of the pursuing soldiers were obviously waterproof as well. They raised their gun barrels and aimed at her in unison on the water surface.
Pingzong suddenly flung her hand.
White misty vapor escaped from between her fingers and palms, and the surrounding temperature plummeted.
The pursuing soldiers who were about to fire suddenly found they couldn’t pull their triggers.
Then they discovered that the entire river had been frozen, and they, along with their weapons, were instantly frozen in the river.
This was yet another powerful ability user.
But clearly Pingzong’s ability couldn’t confine these equally powerful warriors. They couldn’t even feel the cold, and with a light struggle, the ice layer immediately cracked.
One warrior was the first to break free from the ice layer. As he fired, he shrugged his shoulder, and the string of silvery oval objects hanging on the strap across his chest rolled toward Pingzong along the ice surface.
In the blink of an eye, it was upon her—
Pingzong flicked her finger, and a fire dragon bloomed from her fingertip, rushing ahead to burn the approaching silver projectile.
The group of warriors changed color and hurriedly struggled to break through the ice layer, desperately diving down.
The silver projectile spun a few times on the ice surface, then burst into brilliant red and blue light. The radiance pushed forward, passing through the arched bridge ahead that was hung with countless red lanterns. The bridge split in half, with one half crashing thunderously into the river, splashing up enormous waves.
It passed through Dongzi’s house in Lingquan Village to the east, slicing off his roof.
It passed through Fuchun Tower further ahead, which had suddenly collapsed and sunk lower, cleanly shearing off its flying eaves.
Pingzong crouched in a tree, watching the radiance that continued to advance, feeling chills down her back and under her feet.
She lifted her foot to look—the sole of her boot had been sliced off.
One step slower, and she would have lost both legs.
Behind her came the sound of ice layers shattering. The group of warriors, having waited for the bomb to finish exploding, emerged from the water once again.
Pingzong performed a somersault and flipped down from the tree.
White and blue light pursued from behind, instantly pulverizing that tree to dust.
The black-clad warriors appeared in mid-air. Looking down, they saw that Pingzong had actually plunged into the water on the other side of the bridge again.
There, the dust from the collapsed bridge hadn’t yet settled, and silvery water waves could be vaguely seen.
The warriors sneered inwardly.
Foolish ancient person, using the same trick again?
The next instant, Pingzong’s figure crouched down. Just as she was about to enter that “water,” she suddenly contracted her entire body into the arch cavity of the bridge, not directly entering the water.
But the black-clad warriors pursuing from behind were moving too fast and hadn’t expected this to be a feint. They rushed into the “water” one after another.
Some were already firing while still in mid-air, their light waves causing the water surface to shake and splash countless silvery droplets onto the warriors.
“Splash” sounds rang out continuously as the warriors once again plunged into the water in pursuit.
Upon landing, their legs were numbed by the impact. Their first sensation was: why is this river so shallow? Much shallower than before.
Looking again, they found the woman was nowhere to be seen.
Then they realized something was wrong. The instruments on their bodies were beeping chaotically, strange odors reached their nostrils, the “water” around them had an unusual consistency, and the “water” level was rapidly dropping…
Someone cried out in alarm, “This isn’t water, this is a mercury pool!”
…
On the flying saucer, another wave of chaos erupted.
They discovered another batch of blue light dots flashing frantically, and the bar graphs on the terminal that continuously displayed weapon reserves were plummeting madly—they could see that blood bar dropping by more than half.
The commander desperately sent signals, inquiring what was happening, but none of the warriors divided into four groups responded.
…
Later, some people chasing Tie Ci drilled into the cave behind the rear window of Dongzi’s house that faced the back mountain, only to discover that the cave was fake. Once someone entered, it would automatically close, squeezing those who had drilled inside.
Lady Li’s cellar appeared to have nothing in it, but the floor was one giant magnet. The magnet had no effect on the muscle warriors, but it attracted the mechs that had been stomping around trying to crush Tie Ci.
Although the giant mechs’ main materials weren’t metal but a lightweight alloy, some internal components still used steel. That massive magnet was so large it actually held the mechs fast. Though not very securely, it greatly hindered the mechs’ mobility and caused their operating systems to malfunction. After clumsily fighting Tie Ci for several rounds, Tie Ci punched through their chest armor with one blow, and they crashed thunderously to the ground.
Those who chased Pingzong into Ah Hei’s house suddenly lost sight of her. Thinking this person could also teleport, they were caught off guard when there was a thunderous crash overhead, and large amounts of extremely sticky earth poured down on them.
Seeing earth falling from above, with countless wriggling insects and snakes in it, they instinctively panicked.
Then they discovered that the earth was like paste—they couldn’t break free for the moment. Meanwhile, Pingzong stood on the loft above their heads, playing whack-a-mole: whenever she saw a head pop up, she would strike with an ice sword or a burst of fire.
Though she couldn’t eliminate them in one go, it was enough to cause them pain, and she didn’t give them time to catch their breath—it could at least suffocate a few of them.
By the time they finally killed those snakes and insects and struggled out, they discovered that most of their weapons had been lost during their struggle in the sticky earth.
Some people chasing Tie Ci toward the Rainbow Tower encountered assassins hidden in the hollow trees that lined both sides of the waterway—thirty-six trees with thick green shade.
Assassins would suddenly dart out from the trees and strike with a sword. Of the thirty-six trees, some hid people and others didn’t. The assassins appeared and disappeared mysteriously, seeming endless. The visitors from the sky felt like the assassins were inexhaustible and were dumbfounded, thinking they had encountered sorcery. They didn’t realize this was merely a formation that corresponded to the thirty-six celestial spirits technique, using trees as the formation, flowing in circles. It led those future people who possessed high technology but had completely lost their ancestors’ wisdom treasures in circles until they were half dead.
These warriors had astonishing speed, feared neither blade nor sword, neither water nor fire, knew neither cold nor heat, and thought themselves invincible in this place. But they forgot that no matter how powerful their battle suits and armor, those wearing them were still human.
These future people trapped in ditches, stuck in mud, blocked in caves, and caught in formations would sometimes look up blankly at the two women above—they showed no signs of triumph, were even quite disheveled, their bodies always bearing various scrapes and burns from brushing past their powerful weapons. Such situations were not uncommon, as laser-type weapons naturally moved at ghostly speeds, harvesting lives in mere moments.
But these warriors had previously followed the entire pursuit through electronic terminals and knew that these ancient people, especially these two women, were like indestructible cockroaches. When they first encountered drones and laser guns, both women had been penetrated through the arms and had ribs broken. They had narrowly escaped death multiple times, but as they fled all the way and fought repeatedly, though their wounds never ceased, they became increasingly lighter.
At first they were passively beaten, then gradually began to counterattack, until they managed to bury an entire elite army in Haiyou at once.
They had forced the originally confident Alliance into chaos, forced the Management Bureau’s big shots to turn against each other, forced the general to stake everything on bringing the last of the elite and weapons here. And at this moment, they were still here.
But… these warriors looking up at the women above felt some angry and unwilling, others felt regret.
Because… no matter how powerful, how clever, how thorough their thinking and preparation.
The gap between eras cannot be bridged.
Some weapons, some devils, once released, no one can resist.
The more excellent Da Qian performed, the more powerful the Emperor showed himself to be, the more it would prompt the Management Bureau to more firmly and quickly release the devil.
Da Qian would ultimately perish.
…
Above and below the city walls was another grand-scale battle.
Pojing City welcomed foreign enemies for the first time, and it was also the first time the armies of Da Qian and Da Feng cooperated on the city walls. Both sides felt very strange.
No time for coordination, no time for battle mobilization—no time to say anything at all before the enemy’s attack began.
Clearly still a hundred zhang away, beyond the range even of master archers, the enemy had already stopped their formation. The soldiers on the city walls looked at each other, not yet understanding what was happening, when they saw white rainbows rise from the horizon.
No, not white rainbows, but vast white light gathering from the enemy formation, instantly crossing the hundred zhang distance and striking Pojing City’s thick ice-covered walls.
The earth shook, the sky seemed instantly shattered, and before everyone’s eyes, a curtain of ice, frost, and rain arose.
The solid ice over a zhang thick was mostly shattered, flying into mid-air in waves of snow reaching the sky.
Those on the city walls were shocked by what that white light could be. That ice had been poured day and night for ten days—any army would need to attack for ten days and nights before hoping to scale the walls.
Yet under this white light, in one encounter, most of it was destroyed.
Below there was also silence.
The Alliance coalition army that had been painfully assembled was equally shocked, looking up at that gleaming mighty city—how could ancient city walls possibly withstand over a thousand laser guns firing in unison?
The next instant, buzzing filled the air. Those on the city walls saw countless black shadows roaring skyward, pulling countless black afterimages through the air, and in the blink of an eye they would be soaring above the city walls!
The moment before, they couldn’t engage in defensive warfare because the enemy wouldn’t approach, but the next moment the enemy was already on the city walls!
The front wheels of the leopard-shaped flying vehicles spun in mid-air, crashing hard into the already broken ice surface, immediately causing a bout of spinning and slipping, with ice shards flying.
The wheels of the foremost flying vehicles had already touched the city walls.
Murong Yi waved his hand.
Arrows flew like rain from the corner towers on both sides of the city wall. These arrows were different from ordinary ones—they were blue-green in color, leaving blue-gray trails as they streaked through the air. They didn’t aim at the riders on the flying vehicles, only at the vehicles’ wheels.
The warriors on the flying vehicles didn’t even glance at them.
Arrows forged with the low-level smelting technology of ancient times couldn’t possibly damage high-speed rotating wheels. Before they even got close, they would be swept away by the surrounding vortex of air currents.
They soon discovered they had miscalculated.
Those arrows broke through the swirling air currents with a sharp sound and shot into the high-speed rotating wheels.
The riders still weren’t too worried.
Being swept away didn’t matter either. The flying vehicles’ wheels weren’t rubber—the wheel hubs were made of extremely hard alloy. A mere arrow would shatter immediately upon entry.
However, they soon discovered they were wrong again.
A faint, extremely sharp grinding sound could be heard, but no shattered metal pieces were visible. The next instant, the riders felt their vehicles lurch.
The roaring sound stopped abruptly.
Those arrows were stuck between the wheel hubs, bent and twisted but unbroken.
A purple-robed figure flashed—Murong Yi, who had been standing at the very front, appeared on the city walls, stepped onto the vehicle of the foremost rider in one stride, and planted his foot on the opponent’s forehead.
His purple silk robe embroidered with gold thread and dark patterns fluttered in the air. On the snow-covered city walls with cold light flashing everywhere, he appeared as graceful as a banished immortal, yet his aura was as stern as Yama.
A crisp crack like a melon splitting—the leading rider’s head turned into a spray of blood, and both man and vehicle plummeted straight down.
Before his head became a spray of blood, white light simultaneously burst from his hands and shoulders.
Three beams of light wove into a narrow triangle, with Murong Yi’s figure directly within that triangular coverage.
Murong Yi paid no attention and spun in mid-air, kicking two more riders on either side in the head.
On the now-quiet city walls, everyone heard two crisp snapping sounds.
The neck was one of the most vulnerable organs of the human body.
Everyone suspected that Murong Yi had cracked his own leg bones with the force of those three kicks.
Long-accumulated hatred and rage—even if the enemy was armed to the teeth, it couldn’t withstand it.
As his figure flew through the air, he dodged one deadly white beam that would have pierced through his waist and abdomen.
The other two he couldn’t dodge, nor did he try to—they pierced through his left and right palms.
A stream of blood drops scattered in the air, painting a rainbow on the snow atop the city walls.
Murong Yi landed smiling on the city wall, not even glancing at his wounds.
As he struck, all the experts on the wall tops moved.
Everyone held two ropes in their left and right hands—cowhide ropes mixed with Abyssal Iron wire. With a flick of their wrists, countless dark circles flew out. One rope looped around the necks of those riders preparing to abandon their vehicles and climb the walls, while another rope passed under the flying vehicles, around the riders’ waists, making a circle to secure the riders together with their falling vehicles.
Those who struck were Xiao Xueya, You Weixing, Buqing, Zhao San and Mu Si, Xia Houchun… The commanders and countless soldiers from both sides surged forward, taking the other ends of the ropes and quickly securing them to massive stone anchors that had been prepared and were connected to the city walls.
Thus, the riders were left hanging from the city walls while also bearing the weight of their vehicles, each weighing over a thousand jin.
Even with neck armor, they couldn’t withstand such terrible pulling force.
Almost instantly, cracking sounds continued without cease.
Below the city, Alliance warriors looked up, shocked at the scene above.
Some lay dead in the snow, some had broken bones and were torn to pieces along with their flying vehicles, but more were warriors who hadn’t even had time to act. They hung at ninety-degree angles by their necks with giant flying vehicles suspended below them, slowly rotating. In this dance of death, they were gradually having their necks broken bit by bit, being publicly executed with the most resolute attitude and most ruthless methods, forever remaining on the city walls.
Like a medieval public execution by hanging, coldly proclaiming to the world:
Those who offend us will surely be executed.
The Alliance was accustomed to modern warfare like information warfare and cyber warfare—high-tech conflicts that only reduced numbers without showing blood. Today they learned that bloody slaughter was the most intimidating of all.
They had pursued Tie Ci all this way, witnessing the Da Qian Emperor’s flexibility, intelligence, and myriad methods, thinking that was the pinnacle of ancient wisdom.
Never had they imagined that in this border region, they would face attacks even more ruthless and resolute than the Da Qian Emperor’s.
In an instant, that group of flying vehicle warriors had been hanged to death, their bodies pulled by the heavy flying vehicles, hollowly striking the city walls again and again.
The Alliance commander watched the scene ahead, his heart tight, but at this moment he couldn’t retreat a single step. He raised his hand to signal.
But then he saw the crowds on the city walls recede like tide.
In the blink of an eye, the city walls were empty.
The Alliance warriors were all stunned, not understanding what had happened.
Advance, or not advance?
The commander was silent for a while, thinking that in ancient warfare, if one encountered an “empty city stratagem” and fled, not to mention military discipline, it would also become a laughingstock, right?
If these ancient people were really playing an empty city stratagem with them, that would be too naive.
Gunfire rang out, and the warriors advanced with weapons.
The muscle warriors advanced faster than divine steeds, reaching the moat in an instant. Without any visible movement, their feet suddenly transformed into long, flat boards, gliding across the water.
The moat surface was covered with a thin layer of ice—not thick enough to support people, but rather creating difficulty for crossing. However, this difficulty didn’t exist for Alliance warriors. They glided across the ice in an instant like wind. Due to their extreme speed, despite their heavy bodies, the thin ice didn’t even crack.
Shallow white bright marks were carved on the ice surface, and in an instant they reached below the city.
The foremost few armored warriors stopped, each removing their armor. In a moment it automatically assembled into a giant mech. One person leaped into the chest control position, grabbed the city wall with one hand, and easily vaulted up.
They met no resistance whatsoever.
There really was no one on the city walls.
The mech sent a signal, and the muscle warriors freed their hanged comrades, placed them below the city, and climbed up the city walls.
Pojing City’s walls, as high and broad as those of the imperial capital, were like level ground to them. In an instant they had climbed over the city walls, only to see that within a hundred zhang, it was all empty ground, with high walls on all four sides.
They had fallen into this enclosure of four walls.
The commander was stunned for a moment, understanding this was an urn city.
An urn city meant closing the door to beat the dogs.
But could these ancient people with their rusty bows and soft arrows beat them?
This thought had just flashed through when suddenly several loud booms sounded, and enormous bonfires suddenly blazed up on all four sides.
Want to use fire attack?
The warriors were about to laugh when they suddenly smelled an extremely acrid odor, and black smoke billowed before their eyes.
Some wicked person had added the worst charcoal to the bonfires. Once it burned, thick smoke filled the air with a foul, burning stench. Fine snow was still falling, and when it mixed with the black smoke it became black snow. Due to body heat, it stuck to people’s bodies and face masks, instantly turning everyone into black people.
Alliance warriors weren’t afraid of fire or flood, but they still needed to see and breathe. The eye portions of their face masks were made of transparent, high-strength glass. Now they were contaminated by the acrid smoke and black snow into complete darkness. When they reached up to wipe them, the fine carbon particles in the smoke would scratch the glass. By the time they wiped them clean, the glass was also blurred.
The Alliance warriors’ combat armor actually had built-in air purification and filtration systems, because the Alliance’s era had poor air quality to begin with. But having arrived in Da Qian with its clean air, the air purification systems were both cumbersome and unnecessary, so many had removed them. Now they suffered from the acrid smoke invasion, coughing incessantly. The more they coughed, the worse the air became inside their face masks, and soon wearing the face mask felt suffocating.
Even those who wore air purification and filtration systems found that the large smoke particles could still damage the system, and they hadn’t brought so many filter cartridges to replace.
For a moment there was incessant coughing and unclear vision. At this time, grinding sounds continued in the thick smoke, with constant sounds of cutting through air. Vaguely they could see many people had appeared on the four city walls at some point, raising bows and nocking arrows, with continuous whooshing sounds.
These arrows had excellent accuracy, instantly penetrating the thick fog and striking the warriors still groping in the smoke. But they didn’t cause screams or cries of pain—instead they provoked several sounds of disdain and mockery.
The commander, while coughing, reached up to catch an arrow that had grazed past his battle suit—the arrow had originally been aimed directly at his chest but automatically slid past when it touched his body.
Intent on intimidating the Da Qian people, the commander grasped the arrow and threw it back with a reverse motion.
Whistling like lightning, it pierced through smoke and fog. A scream came from the city wall, and an archer fell below the city.
The commander was about to laugh heartily when a furious eagle’s cry sounded in the air. A fierce wind suddenly descended, and vaguely a huge black shadow flashed overhead. Brown, steel-like claws had already descended toward his head and face. The commander was caught off guard and hurriedly retreated, but was already a step too slow. His face mask cracked with a grinding sound, and with a crack, curved claw hooks penetrated. The next instant his body felt light—he was actually being lifted up by his face mask.
Modern warfare didn’t emphasize individual martial prowess, nor did it require warriors to fight to the death to protect their commanders. In such situations, there was only self-preservation.
The commander hurriedly pressed a button to detach his face mask. His body fell down, and just as he was about to breathe a sigh of relief, he suddenly saw cold light flash. Something sharp was swirling and cleaving through the smoke, instantly reaching his throat—
The next instant, blood splattered red across the acrid smoke. Under the sky, it was a scene of intense color.
An eagle cried in the vast sky. Someone leaped down from the city wall, and Hai Dongqing rose to meet him. The person extended his arm, and with a click, his wrist slipped into the loop on the eagle’s leg. The giant eagle made a smooth turn, carrying him down from the city. Wind and snow howled, his black hair and black robes flying, with occasional flashes of red inner robes like fire.
The person who came with the eagle swept past the commander who was still clutching his throat and hadn’t yet fallen. He raised his hand and swung his elbow, the curved blade flashing once, carrying away a head and a fountain of blood.
The curved blade had already returned to his hand without any trace of violence.
Hai Dongqing cried once more, making a circling dive in mid-air. Borrowing that rebounding force, Dan Ye’s curved blade fiercely chopped into a warrior’s transparent face mask, forcibly lifting him high into the air.
Mid-air, the curved blade shook once, flinging the man down in a shower of blood.
Dan Ye’s roar echoed throughout the city: “Dare to kill my Xirong archer, I’ll leave you without a burial place!”
With Hai Dongqing’s turn, Dan Ye was already back on the city walls, curved blade sheathed, lips curled in a grim yet unconcerned savage smile.
But not everyone had the strength and martial prowess of the Xirong King and a buddy named Mo Ye.
Most arrows were still ineffective.
They only served to harass the warriors below into wiping their faces, deflecting arrows, and dodging, temporarily preventing them from counterattacking or paying attention to their footing.
But this “temporarily” was enough.
The first mech warrior to enter suddenly felt a tremor underfoot and fell down a level.
Before he could react, another tremor came, and he fell another level.
After several tremors, in an instant he was half-buried below ground level.
The mech reached out to press against the edge, trying to leap up, but discovered his feet were entangled.
Looking down, he saw countless fine lines crisscrossing below at some point, the lines flickering with blue-green and golden light. The mech didn’t think much of it and lifted his foot.
He had assumed that with his strength, even steel wire would break.
The result was that the blue-green and gold wire was tough and wouldn’t break. Not only wouldn’t it break, it was slowly cutting through his alloy outer armor.
The mech didn’t dare move now.
Earlier, three mechs had been dismantled by the Da Qian Emperor using methods in the Yannan mountains and forests—everyone had heard about it, so they didn’t dare repeat the same mistake.
However, if he didn’t move, naturally others would.
Many figures appeared above, all carrying huge iron buckets, splashing down with gurgling sounds.
The black, sticky, thick liquid flickered with iridescent light even in the night.
The warrior inside the mech caught a whiff of this smell and immediately felt something was wrong.
He pushed open the mech cabin to rush out, but the enemy’s pouring speed was too fast. Splash after splash, in a few moments they had filled this small space.
The mech sent out a distress signal, hoping nearby warriors would come to the rescue.
For some reason, though warriors were clearly nearby, not one came.
The next moment, a bright flash of fire.
The mech was submerged in black oil up to chest level, just enough for the warrior in the transparent mech cabin to clearly see the movement above.
The firelight flashed in his extremely desperate and terrified eyes, and the next moment it fell down.
Whoosh—the mech was trapped in a pit of fire.
At this moment, Alliance warriors were busy dealing with the crisscrossing fine lines that had suddenly appeared underfoot.
These lines were interwoven at a distance of one chi from the ground, right at their shins. They were very resilient—laser guns and laser sabers couldn’t cut through them in one go, and pulling them with hands could cut through the alloy gloves.
These lines were stretched taut, briefly restraining their movement, so that when they heard the mech’s call for help, they couldn’t provide support.
When they wanted to move, stones of various kinds constantly appeared underground, moving like a regular chessboard pattern, blocking their advance.
Someone aimed a laser saber at the lines and found that after repeatedly pressing the switch, one finally broke. Just as he was about to joyfully teach everyone, he suddenly heard grinding sounds.
The lines moved.
The taut, gleaming lines became like countless sharp blades.
Under mechanical control, they flashed like lightning, crisscrossing and intersecting.
Wherever they passed, they cut through muscle and split bone.
Screams pierced through the acrid snow and thick fog. Large patches of blood and pairs of severed legs remained on the ground within the urn city.
…
In the underground palace within the city.
Tie Ci appeared on a large ship.
Behind her, all was now quiet.
Above ground and below, various endless traps had left too many Alliance elites behind.
Wind sounded overhead—Pingzong had already perched atop the ship’s mast.
She sat high up, gazing into the distance. The direction of the city walls was vaguely engaged in battle, with no cannon fire sounds. The wind carried faint scents of fierce fire oil and charcoal.
Pingzong’s gaze passed over the city walls, looking toward the deep clouds, as if still watching the sea of that year.
That year there was a ship moored by the sea, that year her parents were still alive, that year she was still the little princess of the sea island. Later she became a real little princess, but never again felt wealthy.
Later she had Little Aunt, had an adoptive father. Though the relationships were a bit complicated, that palace in the imperial capital had given her warmth—she really liked it there.
Still later, her adoptive father was also gone. Little Aunt remained, but Little Aunt also…
She looked down at Little Aunt below, her silhouette thin and hazy in the morning light.
This similar ship, similar shore, suddenly reminded her of what her mother had said to her before dying.
She had asked her mother why she was entrusting her to a stranger.
Her mother said, this Little Aunt of yours—if one day she truly treats you badly, you needn’t worry, because her meridians have been tampered with by someone. She’s destined not to live long. She won’t live to see the day you two turn against each other. Even if there comes a day when the birds are gone and the bow is put away, by then you should be strong enough.
Once these words had given her peace of mind; now remembering them made her anxious.
At this moment dawn was breaking. Tie Ci below waited a while, and seeing all was quiet around them, turned to call up to her, seemingly wanting to call her down to go to the city walls together to join the battle.
Wind and snow had stopped earlier, and now a bit of sun actually appeared. When Tie Ci turned around, a point of morning light flowed behind her into a pale halo, making her face blurred within the circle of light.
Pingzong squinted her eyes. In this instant she suddenly felt something was wrong somewhere, yet couldn’t see clearly.
The next instant, that morning light suddenly blazed with brilliant radiance, exploding behind Tie Ci.
Pingzong saw a hand emerging from the radiance, as if suddenly appearing from another space, instantly tearing apart everything before it.
That position where Tie Ci had just been standing…
Pingzong’s heart tightened as she swooped down rapidly, but knew in her heart it was too late.
That speed, that angle—even when she had faced Duanmu Sangtang before, she had never experienced anything like this.
This must be the enemy’s true ace in the hole saved for last…
The next instant she landed on the ship’s deck with a thud, looking around in all directions.
Where was everyone?
Clearly two people had just been there.
Looking again at the deck.
A pool of bright red bloodstains.
Someone had still been injured.
But she hadn’t even seen clearly.
Who was injured?
…
Thin, translucent sunlight shone into the half-open ship’s cabin.
This was a large dormitory with a row of neat bunks extending from this end to that end. The beds were covered with simple blue cloth bedding, clearly visible at a glance.
The sunlight seemed to flow very slowly, yet very quickly.
That line of bright light grew brighter and brighter, finally slowly moving to the last bunk.
The sunlight seemed to pause for a moment.
The next moment, with a sharp sound, the bedding and boards suddenly split open. A straight crack extended from head to foot. Thud—the boards fell to the next level. This bunk indeed had a hidden layer.
Now the hidden layer had also cracked, revealing the iron bottom plate below. The bottom plate was also split in two, and below that was the dark lower hold.
If the enemy had been hiding in these boards, they would inevitably be disemboweled.
The sunlight paused, and the light in the room suddenly dimmed. A somewhat ethereal shadow appeared.
The shadow was gray and misty, reflected on the equally gray and misty window paper like a splash of water on window gauze, creating an inhuman silhouette.
In an instant it vanished without a trace.
…
The door leading to the lower hold had somehow been blown open by the wind.
A faint light traced over the wooden stairs, step by step, downward.
The lower hold contained many miscellaneous items and wooden barrels—all good places to hide people. Therefore searching would be equally troublesome.
But that faint light merely swept lightly over those miscellaneous items and barrels before silently returning to its original position.
The next moment, the hold’s deck collapsed, revealing the cavity below.
Indeed, the lower hold was double-layered.
But this next level of the lower hold was completely different from the upper level. It had no miscellaneous items, only a huge ballast stone pressed at the bottom.
The light crawled around the stone in a circle, confirming this was indeed stone, then swept past.
The moment the light swept by.
A human figure suddenly sprang up from the stone, cold light flashing in hand, piercing through above the light.
But the light was completely unaffected, turning in a circle and arriving behind the figure in an instant. A pale hand emerged from the faint light, reaching to grasp Tie Ci’s nape.
Tie Ci reached back to grab that hand, intending to throw the person to the ground.
But the hand suddenly disappeared. Tie Ci grasped empty air. At the same time she felt sharp wind approaching her back, lunged forward, and heard her rear clothing rip with a tearing sound.
Tie Ci’s figure flashed and disappeared from her original position.
This was the first time mechanisms and traps had been ineffective. Strange laughter rang out in the lower hold.
The light gathered again, flowing up the stairs. Suddenly it stopped.
Something in the corner was gleaming silver—it should have been dropped when Tie Ci had desperately lunged forward just now.
The light quickly identified what it was and immediately stopped.
After a moment, the light flowed to the corner where the object lay, slowly dispersed, revealing a lean human form who swiftly bent down to pick up the object from the ground.
Now one could clearly see he wore clothes of a very strange color. The clothes seemed able to absorb light, making their color indiscernible at a glance. When moving from bright to dark places, it was like moonlight suddenly disappearing.
The clothes were even more peculiar in being extremely tight-fitting, clinging to his skin like a second layer, with no visible seams anywhere on his entire body, leaving one unable to understand how he had put them on.
He bent down to pick up the silver-gleaming nano-programming robot.
Suddenly there was a ripping sound.
Like something smooth being pulled down.
The man’s body stiffened. Gripping the robot, he turned around in amazement.
His eyes were full of disbelief, as if he couldn’t believe anyone would actually make such a vulgar move.
Tie Ci stood right behind him, smiling slightly at him, but her hands never stopped moving. As she pulled back with one hand and leaped backward, she already held a large piece of skin-like clothing in her hand.
Looking again at the man from before, his body had suddenly expanded, becoming a tall, large man.
The tall man no longer had that ethereal light and shadow effect from before, but stood there solidly, his expression indescribable.
Tie Ci shook out that piece of clothing and tossed it to Pingzong who had followed down. Pingzong pinched it with her fingers, shaking it with a disgusted expression.
Tie Ci laughed: “Long time no see, Shadow.”
She didn’t know his surname or given name, only that this person had been ordered by her master to personally guard her before she turned sixteen.
However, he generally didn’t interfere with ordinary matters, only in matters of life and death. Before she was sixteen, he had indeed saved her life.
She couldn’t find any trace of his existence in daily life, only knowing that he would appear when she needed him. As a child, she thought he was an immortal. Later she always wondered: how could he come and go freely in the heavily guarded palace? Didn’t he need to sleep? Why could he appear anytime, anywhere?
His existence deepened the mystery surrounding her master. From childhood to adulthood, she felt her master was omnipotent, so he could also send someone like an immortal to be her shadow.
Only now did she understand that there were no immortals in this world, but there was never a shortage of demons and monsters.
Demons and monsters had painted skins—tear them off and their true forms would be revealed.
“Did Master send you?”
Shadow didn’t speak. He appeared to be a middle-aged man with a kind and upright face, completely different from the sinister and gaunt appearance Tie Ci had imagined.
How many people in this world had faces that were hard to fathom.
This was tantamount to acknowledgment. Tie Ci smiled.
There was no disappointment in her smile as she said: “I originally wanted to capture you to threaten Master, but now it seems that won’t work.”
Since she could even make killing moves against her own disciple, naturally she wouldn’t be threatened by a mere shadow.
Shadow showed no reaction to this seemingly provocative statement, only saying flatly: “Your master asked me to tell you that she’s willing to persuade you one last time—retreat. Don’t think you seem to have the upper hand now; actually you have no chance of winning. If you retreat now, there’s still time. Take advantage of my arrival to fake your death and escape, recover from your injuries properly—there’s still time. I’ve brought the medicine for you too.” He shook a small bottle in his hand.
Tie Ci remained silent.
“Your meridians should have used extreme methods for temporary preservation—you won’t live long. Yun Buci says she can let you live a hundred years. She can promise to keep your Da Qian and people completely unharmed. As long as you retreat. And this retreat isn’t because she wants to win, but because if you don’t retreat, though the Alliance will certainly lose their last chance, Da Qian will also be buried by you. Your supposed protection of your subjects is actually harming them. As long as you’re willing to step back, Yun Buci says anything can be agreed to, even if you want her life.”
“Master has so little faith in me,” Tie Ci said slowly. “Is it because she has a great killing weapon in her hands that could destroy the world?”
Shadow said: “If it were truly in her hands, that would be fine. The key problem is that she can’t make the decisions. The reason you’ve been able to remain safe until now is due to the struggle between two factions within the Management Bureau, and also because the Management Bureau doesn’t want to destroy the pure land they’ve finally found as a place to settle. But now, the situation and your killing are constantly amplifying this possibility.”
He paused, then said earnestly: “Tie Ci, I watched you grow up. You’ve always put the greater good first, with clear distinctions between gratitude and resentment. You should understand that what we’re saying isn’t false. The lives and deaths of hundreds of millions of people in Da Qian, compared to so-called honor and disgrace—you should understand which is more important.”
Pingzong looked at Tie Ci.
She was already wavering.
She had heard it—the enemy still had more terrible killing weapons in their hands, the kind that could completely destroy Da Qian. Once they were pushed to desperation by continuous failures, they would release them. Then all of Tie Ci’s and everyone’s previous efforts would turn to nothing.
Not to mention it also involved Tie Ci’s life and death.
If it were her, she would agree without hesitation.
With her understanding of Tie Ci, Tie Ci would definitely agree too.
After all, in her heart, Da Qian and the people were most important.
It was just that she felt vaguely uneasy in her heart, yet didn’t know what this unease was about.
The silence was difficult to endure.
But Shadow remained calm throughout, as if certain this matter was without suspense.
Tie Ci suddenly laughed.
She laughed and said: “Since you have the heart to persuade me to surrender, then why were all your moves killing strikes just now?”
Her front garment was bloody—that position was only an inch from her heart.
Shadow fell silent.
“Because Master gave you a death order—to kill me. If you really can’t kill me, then negotiate.”
“The reason for this shows that Master herself has no confidence in the promises she made to me.”
“She has no confidence in guaranteeing that Da Qian won’t be maliciously invaded by your Alliance, no confidence in guaranteeing that Da Qian’s people won’t suffer humiliation and trampling, no confidence in guaranteeing that your Alliance’s upper echelons and people won’t prey upon Da Qian, treating Da Qian as their own colony and Da Qian’s people as their own black slaves, leaving Da Qian unrecognizable in the future and its people reduced to second-class citizens, trapped in dire straits.” Tie Ci said indifferently, “If you hadn’t opened fire the moment you appeared, immediately leveled Chongming Palace when you raised your hands, and if your words and expressions hadn’t been full of contempt and disdain for Da Qian, with eyes flashing with impatient greedy light, perhaps I would still believe you were truly peace envoys, willing to provide you with a final resting place… But now, it’s too late.”
“But if you don’t agree, the people will die. Even if they might be humiliated, it’s still better than dying. Have you asked your subjects for their opinions? Have you asked them whether they’d rather die a good death or live in degradation?”
“I don’t need to ask. My will is everyone’s will.” Tie Ci smiled coldly, “Don’t forget, Da Qian is currently still under the feudal imperial system that you so despise and criticize. My will supersedes everything.”
“Tie Ci.” Shadow said, “We once thought you were the most enlightened and rational monarch we had cultivated, but it turns out you still have the most corrupt mind. You’ve disappointed us all greatly.”
“There’s a type of person who, because their own greed cannot be satisfied, becomes angry and ashamed, then defines others and forces moral shackles upon them.” Tie Ci turned and walked upward, “Yun Buci once said this is called being a moral whore.”
“You once saved my life. I’ll spare your life today. If you appear again next time, I will definitely turn you into a ghost shadow.”
Tie Ci stopped at the top of the stairs, looking at the bright sky outside, without turning back, only saying calmly:
“Go back and tell Yun Buci.”
“My refusal of you isn’t the madness and disregard for human life you think it is, or clinging to power and position. I simply don’t believe.”
“I don’t believe you can treat Da Qian’s people well, and I don’t believe you can truly destroy Da Qian.”
“Naturally you don’t believe my disbelief either, so—we’ll see.”
…