Volume One, Chapter Seventy: Old Jackal

The execution squad pressed forward relentlessly, soon braving the onslaught of beasts to reach the village’s outer barrier. The thin veil of light before them did not prevent humans and mutant beasts from passing through, but it held back the frenzied tide of aberrant spawn stirred up by the lunar tidal surge.

Zhang the Butcher was the first to step beyond the barrier, his movements faltering for a moment before recovering as he stationed himself there to buy time for the others. As they crossed the threshold, each member felt the pervasive, wild pressure; all were affected, some more than others. Even Chen Luoluo frowned slightly as she stepped out.

Instantly severing the resonance between the aberrant spawn within her and the chaos outside, Chen Luoluo radiated increasing cold, carving out a patch of purity amid the turbulent flow. Suddenly, she turned her gaze to the other side of the squad, her gentle, tranquil eyes for the first time rippling with surprise.

In the direction Chen Luoluo looked, Mo De and Mu Qing stepped out of the barrier one after the other. Their forms were unaffected, as if untouched by the madness. Chen Luoluo suppressed her astonishment; she had known these siblings were extraordinary, but she had not expected even the raging lunar tidal surge to leave them unscathed. It was no wonder—they had traversed the tidal surge for some time before entering the village.

Her serene smile faded slightly. With a subtle curve of her lips, she waved her hand again, sending a cold sword energy straight out, freezing three or four sand jackals before the chill dissipated amid the wild current.

“Miss Chen, try not to use ranged abilities during this surge,” cautioned Qiao Yun, a middle-aged woman from the village at her side. “Otherwise, the tidal surge will erode too much of your power—it’s not worth it.”

Chen Luoluo nodded in acknowledgment and ceased her cold sword strikes, resorting only to slashing at the beasts attacking.

Once all had crossed the barrier and adapted to the oppressive lunar surge, the squad pressed on toward the sand jackal beast king.

Swallowing the last half of a mutant beast’s carcass, the old jackal’s clouded eyes shone with sharpness. A hoarse howl rang out, and the sand jackal tribe echoed in chorus. Other herded mutant beasts, driven by this call, advanced like cannon fodder, rushing headlong at the approaching humans.

The vanguard of the beast horde was a group of towering, muscular one-horned rhinos. Once the unchallenged masters of the wasteland, they had fallen under the old jackal’s command after their leader was killed. Their pupils turned blood-red, their logic swept away by the lunar surge. The rush of blood made them ever more frenzied, their heavy hooves pounding the wild earth with terrifying force.

Zhang the Butcher raised his twin blades, running the boning dagger lightly across the broad back of his cleaver, producing a clear, metallic sound. He stopped, focused, and stomped heavily, raising the earth beneath the beasts to form a low wall.

Zhang was an earth-type aberrant, though his repertoire was limited. He preferred to use his aberrant power to fortify his own body, enhancing his close-combat prowess. Yet in this moment of teamwork, he wielded his abilities to create opportunities for his comrades.

The first row of rhinos reacted swiftly, leaping over the wall, but the crowded beasts behind could not follow in time. As the initial beasts tripped over the wall, those behind crashed into them in a chaotic pile.

Now, seven or eight charging rhinos were isolated, and the execution squad seized the moment Zhang Shunlai had created, swarming forward.

The rhino beasts glared with bloodshot eyes, froth foaming from their mouths, twisting their heads to target Mo De’s heart as they charged.

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Standing in a wide horse stance, Mo De sheathed his blade. Suddenly, his right fist was wrapped in a layer of dark gold. Drawing it to his waist, he swung his arm in a fierce uppercut.

His timing was perfect: his fist did not clash directly with the rhino’s sharp horn but struck the lower half. A heavy thud resounded, though the villagers, busy fighting, paid it no heed.

Only Mu Qing, the squad’s radar, and Chen Luoluo watched Mo De closely.

It must be said, these beasts’ horns were indeed sturdy. Mo De’s punch did not shatter it but sent the entire rhino flying.

Mo De moved in, sticking close to the airborne beast. From his sheath, he drew a short blade.

The unfortunate rhino, dazed from the blow, had no strength left to resist. The blade slid free, passing seven inches and still extending. Golden light condensed into a three-foot-long sword, which Mo De reversed and plunged into the beast’s soft jaw, piercing its skull.

The rhino died instantly, passing from dizziness to death without a moment’s pain.

Mo De withdrew his blade, sidestepped, and let the massive carcass fall. He did not bother to wipe the blood and viscera from the blade; instead, he released his aberrant energy, and the bloodied blade faded from view. As blood spilled onto the earth, the weapon returned to its short form, which he sheathed once more.

This was what he had meant earlier to Cuihua: if needed, he could extend it further.

Meanwhile, Chen Luoluo, standing by the low earth wall, grew ever more distant in demeanor; a spark of interest flared in her watery eyes. The beasts behind the wall, far from reaching the second awakening, had been frozen by her alone.

A gentle cough trembled the fire burning in her gaze, which Chen Luoluo quickly extinguished. Her smile returned as she looked toward the source of the cough.

It was Qin Qing, the sister of the young one.

Nodding apologetically, Chen Luoluo restrained much of her cold aura, recalling Zhou Meiqiong’s earnest admonitions before departure.

She suppressed her curiosity and quelled her combative heart. Now, her foremost task was to solve the village’s immediate crisis.

Standing atop a mound of corpses, she continued to wield her icy sword, holding back the cannon fodder and buying time for those behind her.

Clearly, the villagers were not helpless; each used their own abilities to deal with the rhino beasts charging at them. The eight members regrouped to eliminate the first-awakening mutant beasts.

“The sand jackals are coming—fifty-eight just entering the Gate, fifteen at mid-stage, three late-stage, one perfected,” reported Mu Qing, the squad’s ‘human radar.’ The team was startled; after sacrificing the cannon fodder, the real threat was finally moving.

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If it were a one-on-one fight, any of the eight would have nothing to fear from these beasts. But their numbers allowed coordination, and these seventy-plus sand jackals were only a fraction of the tribe.

“I’ll lead with Yichen, Chen Shan, and Jiang Yan. Qiao Yun, you four conserve your strength—we’ll charge straight ahead,” Zhang Shunlai declared, knowing that killing every jackal would play into the enemy’s trap. The old jackal was whittling down their stamina with numbers.

The group quickly shifted formation: Zhang the Butcher and three others focused on breaking through, while the rest cleared threats from the flanks and preserved their strength, hoping to strike down the jackal king swiftly.

But just as the squad became a wedge, piercing deep into the jackal horde, a sudden change occurred.

Yang Yichen, wielding his fiery iron staff, surged in momentum, breaking through the bottleneck amid battle, advancing from perfected Gate to External Realm. The man, already exhilarated by the fight, was even more excited after his breakthrough. With a single-handed strike, he smashed down, killing not only the sand jackal hiding behind others but also a large jackal wolf.

“Don’t get carried away—you’ve just advanced to External Realm, your foundation is weak,” Zhang Shunlai reminded the enthusiastic Yang Yichen, who acknowledged and did not rush ahead.

With two External Realm experts leading, the squad’s pace quickened. As the old jackal swallowed another mutant beast, the eight-man team drew near.

Unhappy with his minions’ incompetence, the old jackal suddenly lashed out, biting to death the large sand jackal beside him. Drinking deeply of his kin’s blood, the old jackal’s withered fur regained some gloss.

The surrounding sand jackals all knelt, whimpering in supplication.

The corpse was tossed aside, and the others scattered, not daring to look at the unfortunate beast who had nearly reached External Realm, only to die at the jaws of his king.

A savage howl echoed as the old jackal rose from the low hill, his fierce eyes sizing up the humans before him.

Once, he was the tribe’s old king, but age had sapped his strength. Had it not been for the lunar tidal surge and a chance encounter in the desert, he would have been buried beneath the sands, never to set foot in the External Realm or lead his tribe again.

By fortune, not only had he gained power in the surge, but retained his reason. Yet as his realm rose, an innate bloodlust grew ever harder to suppress. Thus he gathered his tribe, drove the wild beasts, and attacked the human village.

Now, newly advanced, he could not bear to probe slowly; finally exposed, he bared his fangs at the blood before him.

He would become the sole ruler of these wilds, ripping the throat of every rebel, devouring their bodies, draining their blood!

“Recently advanced to mid-External Realm—a tough opponent,” Mu Qing remarked to the others after glancing at the old jackal.

But through the vision granted by her sunglasses, the life force of this creature seemed… impure.