Chapter 73
Chapter 73: Forget Him—Go Save People in the War Zone
Zhao Qing’s eyelids sank.
His thoughts blurred as his body fell, fast and weightless. He forced his eyes open, trying to see whether the two icefrost sparrows were still on him.
He hoped they were.
He hoped they wouldn’t even spare his corpse. If they kept chasing, kept wasting time on him, maybe it would buy his comrades another half minute.
From the moment Zhao Qing joined the awakened soldiers, he’d accepted the ending waiting at the edge of every battle.
Dungeon raiders fought for rewards.
Awakened soldiers fought to keep monsters away from the people behind them.
They lived in war zones year-round, braced for breakouts, ready to die at the line so civilians wouldn’t have to.
Zhao Qing had been ready for that for a long time.
After his parents and brother died in a magic beast surge, he’d sworn he would spend what was left of his life guarding Song City—so other kids wouldn’t have to live through what he did.
Had he done enough?
He closed his eyes again.
His last, stupid thought was that he hoped he wouldn’t splatter into something unrecognizable.
He let himself drift into the strange calm of falling—
Then a hand seized his collar.
Zhao Qing didn’t have the strength to open his eyes. In that moment, he could only think of two possibilities: talons, or Su Ang.
“Don’t sleep.”
A human voice, calm and close.
Zhao Qing’s mind went blank for a second.
Commander Su Ang.
Even if he stayed awake, he wouldn’t live. Half his body was gone. Blood loss was already dragging him toward darkness.
He wanted to say: Don’t waste time on me. Go back. Save the war zone.
His lips barely moved.
“Don’t…”
And then his body went cold and he blacked out.
Su Ang’s brows drew together.
He handed the hovercar to autopilot, braced his feet against the door frame to steady himself, and dragged Zhao Qing’s upper body tight against his chest. He tore open a pack of hemostatic medicine and poured it over Zhao Qing’s waist in a thick rush.
Then he popped open a hidden compartment on the hovercar’s side, pulled out a syringe, and injected it straight into Zhao Qing.
Within moments, Zhao Qing’s breathing steadied—thin, but real.
Su Ang’s gaze flicked to the torn hemostatic medicine wrapper.
He hadn’t expected this combination to work so well.
He’d used that special drug once before. It kept you alive, but it also threw you into a seven-day critical state. Su Ang knew exactly how ugly those seven days could be.
Yet Zhao Qing’s condition was clearly stabilizing faster than his had.
Su Ang set an autopilot destination with one hand and cast a flat glance at the two icefrost sparrows closing in behind.
Then his psychic power poured downward, spreading across the forest like ink.
The smaller sparrow came in hard, wings buzzing with murderous excitement, aiming to knock the hovercar out of the sky and reclaim the prey it had locked onto.
Su Ang didn’t turn the vehicle.
He lifted his eyes and met the sparrow’s gaze.
His dark pupils tightened slightly.
The smaller sparrow’s body went rigid.
Like a puppet whose strings had been yanked, it whirled and unleashed chaotic, vicious wind blades at the larger sparrow.
The larger sparrow—until now, content to watch—snapped to attention. A B-rank magic beast had intelligence. The instant it recognized Su Ang as psychic-type, it seized the smaller sparrow and shot back toward the battlefield.
Su Ang withdrew his gaze without a ripple.
His mental net had already locked onto something else.
Zhao Qing’s lower half.
The hovercar dropped into the forest, weaving between trees at terrifying speed. At the right moment, Su Ang leaned out and snatched the broken, blood-slick remains from the ground.
He didn’t know whether Zhao Qing could ever be made whole again.
But there were things that had to be done.
He shoved the lower half into the hovercar, planted one foot on the edge, and drove straight after the larger icefrost sparrow.
Even at full speed, the hovercar struggled to keep up.
So Su Ang reached out with his psychic power and clamped down.
The larger sparrow’s flight stuttered, slowing under invisible restraint.
The hovercar rose over it.
Su Ang shut the door, jumped, and landed on the icefrost sparrow’s broad back as if stepping onto solid ground.
Behind him, the hovercar carrying Zhao Qing tore toward the destination Su Ang had set.
Ahead, the battlefield waited.
Su Ang walked across the sparrow’s back like he was taking a stroll, silver hair and suit untouched by the chaos. His calm black eyes fixed on the center of the Second B War Zone.
It was a slaughterhouse.
The black dragon beast had already entered the heart of the battlefield. Its massive fist smashed into the ground, flinging awakened soldiers into the air. Wherever its scalding magma sprayed, screams rose—ragged, desperate, too much like something ripped out of hell.
Lin Mo was locked in a psychic struggle with the B-rank psychic-type magic beast. But he was also trying to command the battle, and that split focus was killing him. He was losing ground by the second.
When Su Ang arrived, Lin Mo was bleeding from his mouth and nose. Magic beasts swarmed around him. If Wang Shuo and Cheng Qing hadn’t been dragging him back from the brink with their lives, Lin Mo would’ve been trampled into the mud.
“Good work,” Su Ang said, his voice sliding into Lin Mo’s mind. “Pull back your psychic power.”
Lin Mo exhaled shakily, wiped blood from his nose, and withdrew.
He looked up.
Under a clear blue sky, Su Ang stood on the icefrost sparrow’s back. He extended one hand.
The black dragon beast froze.
The psychic-type magic beast froze.
Both pinned in place by sheer pressure.
Su Ang’s expression didn’t change. He watched them for a beat, then focused on the psychic-type one.
A blade formed from condensed psychic power—clean, precise—and struck.
The magic beast threw up a psychic shield.
Under Su Ang’s dense, violent S-rank suppression, that shield might as well have been paper.
The blade punched through and pierced the center of its forehead.
The psychic-type magic beast roared.
Its psychic power spiraled into chaos. It beat at itself like a madman, then wandered like a lost child, then lashed out at anything within reach—no thought, no control, only raw instinct.
“Leave the rest to you,” Su Ang said to Lin Mo, voice flat. “I’m taking these three B-rank alive. Handle the black dragon beast.”
Lin Mo’s eyes widened, then lit up with relief.
War zones were rewarded heavily for turning in high-rank magic beast corpses. Su Ang could’ve taken everything—but he’d left them one.
“Understood!” Lin Mo shouted, already moving.
He steadied himself and began directing the surviving awakened soldiers to clean up what was left of the beast tide.
—
Qian Qi jolted upright, drenched in cold sweat.
Her hand flew to her chest as if she could pin her heart in place. She forced a slow breath.
Even in a dream, that black dragon beast was enough to make her feel like she’d been dragged through a battlefield.