Chapter 27: High-Level Confrontation
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
“Hey, Qin, wanna go check it out?” Xu Yue Ping’s voice was full of excitement.
Qin Ming raised an eyebrow, a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. “Did Cao Long, Wei Zhi Rou, and Mu Qing already head out?”
“Yeah,” Xu Yue Ping nodded eagerly, his eyes sparkling. “They passed through the village not too long ago. The higher-ups said it’s cool as long as we don’t get too close.”
Old Liu, always impatient, jumped in with a grin. “Well, what are we waiting for?” He barreled ahead, charging like he’d been waiting for this all day, his broad back leading the way.
Qin Ming sighed, feeling the weight of the decision. If Cao Long and the others were already going, then how bad could it really be? He fell in step with the rest of them, his footsteps light but alert.
The journey didn’t take long, and soon they were standing on the edge of the mountain. The air buzzed with an odd energy, like something big was about to happen. Strange figures, shadowy and unfamiliar, mingled among the crowd. All eyes were set on the same goal—waiting for the big shots from Scarlet Dawn City to make their entrance.
Qin Ming’s gaze drifted, and then he spotted something that made him pause. A donkey stood off to the side, looking oddly familiar. He frowned. Could that be the same one he had hunted a few days ago? Maybe a cousin? He wasn’t sure, but the sight made him chuckle to himself.
Perched on top of the donkey was a little white weasel, sitting cross-legged like it was meditating. Its stillness was unnerving, its eyes sharp, as if they could see straight through reality itself.
Qin Ming inhaled deeply, then closed his eyes for a brief moment, centering himself. He silently activated the “Light Shroud” technique, his body fading into the surroundings until he was barely noticeable, like a shadow among shadows.
“They’re coming!” someone whispered nearby, breaking the tension that had built up in the crowd.
From the snowy horizon, a figure began to take shape, slowly coming into focus with each step. As it moved closer, the crowd stirred, whispers spreading like wildfire.
“Is that one of our city’s top officials?” someone mumbled, eyes wide as they strained to get a better look.
But when the figure finally came into full view, confusion rippled through the crowd. It wasn’t human—it was something else entirely.
The figure moved with an eerie grace, quiet but purposeful, until it reached the front of the gathering. Standing there, as though it belonged, was a tabby cat—three feet tall, walking upright on two legs. Qin Ming blinked in disbelief. Was he really seeing this? He had heard that top anomalies were rare, but here was one, strolling around like it was just another day.
The tabby cat’s sharp eyes met those of the white weasel. The air seemed to crackle with tension.
Qin Ming’s mind raced. Weren’t cats and weasels supposed to hate each other? Were they going to throw down right here?
The people around him shifted uneasily, their murmurs growing softer but no less anxious.
“I always thought the top anomalies would look more like those legendary creatures,” Old Liu muttered, his eyes darting around. “Like those mountain lords or those birds that live for centuries… but here we are.”
His words hung in the air, and the crowd buzzed with nervous whispers. Everyone had grown up hearing the same old stories—tales of beasts older than time, creatures who had lived on the mountaintops for generations. But none of those legends had ever seemed real. Until now.
Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted again, and Qin Ming felt his pulse quicken.
“Are they… gonna fight?” someone murmured, their voice trembling with uncertainty.
The tabby cat stood tall, its crimson sword half-drawn, the hilt glowing faintly. The soft red light illuminated the snow around it, making the ground look as though it had been splattered with blood.
The weasel’s previously calm face now showed signs of unease. It hopped gracefully off the donkey, giving the animal a gentle pat, as though urging it to move away from the danger. The weasel straightened up, its limbs strangely human-like. In one paw, it held a string of prayer beads. A soft white mist began swirling around it, pushing back against the red glow of the cat’s sword.
The crowd stood baffled, torn between awe and fear. Were these two on the same side? Or were they about to clash?
“Maybe one of them used to be human,” a voice whispered, shaky and unsure. “I heard depending on the path they take, their appearances can change to no longer resemble humans anymore.”
A chill crept up Qin Ming’s spine. These paths they were talking about—they were beyond anything he could wrap his mind around. Could it really be true? Could these beings have once been human?
On the mountainside, patrolmen who had spent their entire lives guarding these lands gathered to watch, their curiosity getting the better of them. These seasoned warriors, normally stationed at specific areas, had come for the rare chance to witness something this extraordinary.
More and more figures arrived, some from Scarlet Dawn City, others from nearby villages and towns. They came in droves, all drawn by the same irresistible pull.
Across the clearing, hidden among the trees, strange creatures lurked, their forms shrouded in mist. Flickers of fiery red and purple light danced between the trees, and Qin Ming felt his stomach drop.
Guttural sounds rumbled from the woods, louder and more menacing than the murmurs of the crowd.
“Stay sharp,” came Cao Long’s deep, commanding voice. His tall figure was impossible to miss, towering above the others, nearly three meters tall, his armor gleaming under the fading light. His spear glinted ominously in his hand as his eyes scanned the crowd.
“This was supposed to be a negotiation, right?” someone muttered nervously. “We’re not actually gonna fight, are we?”
Mu Qing, dressed head to toe in black, nodded solemnly. “We’re not looking for trouble. But if they start something, we’ll be ready. The higher-ups will back us.”
All around, patrolmen and other groups exchanged similar messages, preparing themselves for whatever might come.
“Haven’t seen a standoff like this in thirty years,” Old Liu mused, his excitement returning. He gripped his machete, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
But Qin Ming, standing toward the back of the crowd, wasn’t quite as thrilled. He clenched his metal hammer tighter, bracing for anything.
Then, without warning, a massive figure appeared, towering over everyone. The entire field went still, including the creatures in the mountains.
No one saw how he arrived. One moment, the space was empty, filled with the weight of the tension hanging in the air. The next, there he was—standing in the middle of it all like some kind of unstoppable force.
The giant of a man stood at least ten meters tall, his presence impossible to ignore. Broad and muscular, he was clad in ancient, battle-worn armor that seemed to carry the weight of centuries. In his hand, a long, black spear crackled with dark energy, sending chills down the spines of everyone present, human and anomaly alike.
For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath, suffocated by the sheer power radiating from him. Then, just as quickly as it had come, the intensity subsided, leaving only the echo of the power he had shown.
His face was sharp, weathered by time and battle. He looked to be in his forties, with dark hair flowing down his back. His presence was so commanding that many in the crowd began to wonder if he was walking the Gaint’s path.
“Is he one of our leaders?” someone whispered, barely loud enough to be heard over the thick silence. “How come we’ve never seen him before?”
Even Cao Long and Wei Zhi Rou exchanged bewildered glances, unsure of who this giant was. But one thing was clear—he was human, not an anomaly.
The man with the black spear stepped forward, calm and deliberate. He moved to stand beside the snow-white weasel, facing off against the tabby cat and its glowing sword.
As he arrived, the cat’s sword vibrated, the red light intensifying as though sensing a new threat.
An old patrolman leaned in and whispered, “It’s clear now. That giant is one of us. The weasel too—just walking a different path.”
The crowd around him relaxed, at least somewhat. Finally, they had a clearer sense of who was on their side. The tabby cat, it seemed, had come from the deep mountains, an outsider.
The contrast between the towering giant and the tiny weasel was almost comical, but nobody dared to laugh. The tension was far too high for that.
“Brother Wei, it’s been twenty years,” a calm, smooth voice cut through the stillness. A new figure had appeared, as if stepping out of thin air.
This man, dressed in spotless white robes that shimmered in the moonlight, looked to be in his early forties. He was handsome, elegant, and his presence seemed to blend effortlessly into the snow-covered landscape.
He stepped beside the tabby cat, his eyes locked on the giant man with the black spear.
The crowd, already bewildered, grew even more confused. Who was on which side? And what was happening here?
The giant, Wei Mo, nodded slowly, the soft clink of his armor breaking the silence. “Indeed, Ling Xu. Twenty years… and yet time has left its mark on us both.”
Ling Xu, the man in white, gave a slight nod, his gaze distant. “No one escapes time, not even us who walk these paths.”
The crowd exchanged anxious looks. Ling Xu—the City Lord of Scarlet Dawn? Everyone had heard of him, but seeing him now was something else entirely.
Ling Xu sighed softly, his voice tinged with sorrow. “You’ve chosen to walk into the endless night, Wei Mo? To journey into those deadly lands and never return?”
“Yes,” Wei Mo replied, his tone clipped and final.
“I see,” Ling Xu murmured.
A heavy silence fell over the clearing. People whispered about Wei Mo’s past, tales of his immense power from years ago. They said he had been even taller back then. Was this new form a sign of an even greater transformation?
“Why’s he siding with the anomalies?” a young man asked his elder, his voice trembling with fear.
The elder sighed. “When a person loses their way, when hope is gone, they wander into the endless night. Some of the highest anomalies… they were once human, too.”
The realization hit Qin Ming hard, a cold dread seeping into his bones. So this was what happened when you lost everything. You became something else entirely.
Ling Xu, always the diplomat, spoke again. “Let’s sit and talk.”
There was an edge to his voice, an authority that left no room for doubt. And so, the four beings—each one so different from the others—sat down in the snow for what would be their final negotiation.
To the crowd’s frustration, however, they soon realized they couldn’t hear a word of it. This was a conversation far beyond their reach. They were lucky just to be allowed to witness it.
But the tension lingered. Crimson clouds swirled in the sky, white mist flowed from the weasel’s prayer beads, and the garments, armor, and fur of the four beings vibrated as if caught in invisible storms of energy.
Suddenly, the tabby cat fully unsheathed its sword. The crimson glow exploded outward, bathing the area in red light, like the rising of a bloody sun.
The snow-white weasel, previously so calm, now seemed irritated. One paw rolled the prayer beads faster and faster, while the other patted the snow with growing frustration.
The ground trembled. Snow flew into the air, swirling around them like a miniature blizzard.
Despite the chaos, it was clear that the weasel wasn’t attacking. It hadn’t even unleashed its full power yet. It was simply showing its frustration, but that alone was enough to send ripples of fear through the crowd.
From the dark forest, guttural roars echoed, and terrifying creatures began to emerge. Some stood on distant peaks, their eyes glowing in the shadows. Others flapped enormous wings, hovering high above the treetops.
Among them, one creature shone brighter than the rest—a glowing insect, its body lighting up the mountainside like a beacon.
“A Moonbug!” someone gasped, their voice trembling with terror.
Opposite the Moonbug, another figure took to the sky. A giant cyan bird soared into view, its feathers glowing with an ethereal light. On its back sat a figure cloaked in robes made of feathers, their presence so powerful that it seemed to push back against the Moonbug’s terrifying aura.
Qin Ming stared up at the rider on the bird, a sudden, sharp pain shooting through his head. It wasn’t the person that caused it—but the robes they wore. Something about those flowing feathers struck a chord deep within him, like a bolt of lightning tearing through memories he had long buried.
In that moment, flashes of his past rushed back—blood, violence, and the horrors of when he was just fourteen.