Real Mount and Blade Game

The charred black crow feathers, mixed with the still-unsettled dust, swirled around the fortified walls.

The pungent stench of sulfur, the putrid smell of flesh and blood, and something deeper, like the stench of the earth's entrails being burned, permeated every inch of the ravaged land.

This brutal three-way battle—the raging tide of the abyssal undead, the last struggle of the Seventh Dynasty's undead legion, and the tenacious defense of the Elven Forest fortress—finally cooled down temporarily, like a pot of boiling oil that had been forcibly doused with cold water.

The sturdy, revitalized root walls are mottled with claw marks, corroded pits, and charred burn marks.

Shen Mu stood alone on the towering command platform, like a statue cast in iron. His icy blue eyes swept across the ravaged battlefield in front of the fortress.

The once surging black tide and the gray waves of the undead legion in the west have disappeared, leaving only a mess.

Scattered fragments of inferior remains, charred by the Holy Light, and the skeletons of the Black Iron Legion lay scattered on the ground, along with broken scimitars and shattered bone shields.

In some areas, the filthy blood had even congealed into a thin, dark purple layer of ice. Only at the edge of the fortress could one hear the sporadic clang of clashing weapons, the twang of bowstrings, and the dying screams of the wrecked corpses.

Several squads of Rhodok shield-wielders and Vaegir archers were patiently clearing away the remnants and extinguishing any remaining smoldering abyssal filth outside the fortress walls.

“Commander,” Caranzo, clad in heavy chainmail and his beard stained with blood and soot, strode onto the platform, his back ramrod straight as a spear despite his exhaustion, “the western ash battlefield has been largely cleared. The Swadian infantry phalanx is repairing the last section of the damaged foundation wall. The Khergit cavalry have not found any organized enemy forces within a radius of about five miles.” He paused, his voice lowering, “but this deathly silence… is more chilling than the howl of the abyss.”

Bandak leaned on his spear, his weathered face etched with solemnity.

"The stench of the abyss is still there, like grease from a sewer, seeping everywhere." He spat. "Those skeletons of the Seventh Dynasty may have been blown to pieces, but that lingering resentment still chills you to the bone. This war is far from over."

Legolas gripped his hunting bow, which was engraved with ancient runes, his emerald eyes fixed on the western horizon, where swirling, inky black clouds never seemed to dissipate.

"The forest is wailing, my lord," the elf's voice was ethereal yet oppressive. "The aura of death has not dissipated, but is merely receding and coalescing, like a giant abscess gestating an even more terrifying poison."

That final wolf shadow... it licked its wounds, but it seemed more like it was absorbing, transforming. A terrifying silence.

Shen Mu remained silent, his gaze slowly withdrawing from the dark vortex that loomed in the west like a demonic eye.

Caranzo and Bandak were right, but Legolas's perception was even more accurate.

This moment of peace is nothing more than a brief spasm after excruciating pain, a lull in the storm as it gathers strength to await the next, even more terrifying, storm.

The last essence of the Seventh Dynasty's Black Iron Legion, the slain corpses, and the remains of the undead gnolls all transformed into an invisible torrent, greedily absorbed by the ruler deep within the core of the Black Domain.

This brief respite was bought at the cost of our own soldiers' blood and sweat, and the overwhelming power of the enemy; it was a suffocating calm in the eye of the storm.

“Legolas,” Shen Mu began, his voice low but carrying a steely quality that clearly pierced the wind through the ramparts, “constrain your people’s senses, extend them five more derrigs outward, focus on any minute undead or abyssal energy convergence point, leave no stone unturned. Have the Khergit cavalry reduce their patrol range, but halve the rotation time of each squad, keeping them constantly on their horses and arrows. Ensure there are at least three squads patrolling the edge of darkness at all times. Have the Holy Tree Knights take turns guarding the base of the Holy Light Torch Tower, reinforcing the runestones to ensure the light of the Towerling doesn’t diminish. Tell the Rhodok craftsman chief that his stonemasons and carpenters, while reinforcing the foundation walls, must inspect all defensive points before sunset. The calm before the storm is our last respite to sharpen our claws. Use this moment of 'rest' to make our blades, arrows, shields, and wills even sharper and more resilient.”

The command spread rapidly like ripples on water, and the sounds of commands and the clanging of metal echoed more tightly and menacingly than before within the fortress.

The soldiers seized every minute to eat, repair equipment, and sharpen weapons, their nerves on edge never daring to relax for a moment.

Just then, the sound of rapid hoofbeats came from afar, breaking through the commotion inside the fortress.

A sturdy horse, panting heavily and with a disheveled mane, galloped to the foot of the platform. The rider was a messenger cavalryman wearing a blood-stained gray robe and an oak leaf insignia on his chest—the symbol of the Elf Forest Medical Camp.

He stumbled as he dismounted, clearly having traveled extremely fast, and managed to kneel on one knee, his voice broken and intermittent from heavy breathing:
"Commander... the medical camp at the rear... urgent... urgent report!"

Shen Mu's gaze swept down like lightning.

"Catch your breath before you talk," Caranzo said in a deep voice.

The messenger took a few deep breaths, trying to steady his breathing: "Reporting to the commander! Just... just now! Ms. Evelyn, the head of the medical battalion, sent me here immediately to report! The two seriously wounded prisoners... the Zhang brothers, Zhang Song and Zhang Bo, from the Green Leaf Group... under the treatment of medicine and hymns... finally regained consciousness last night!"

The gazes of the people on the high platform all sharpened.

Greenleaf Group!

The name seemed to carry a stale, foul odor, instantly making the air thicker.

Shen Mu personally led his elite Holy Tree Knights through several fierce battles before finally destroying and burning the core area of ​​that malignant tumor. On the ruins, he built the current Elf Forest Barrier to protect the living beings in the area.

“Continue.” Shen Mu’s voice was flat, but both Kalanzo and Bandak could feel his invisible focus.

"After they woke up," the messenger quickened his pace, "the apprentices serving them inadvertently mentioned the fierce battle at the front lines of the fortress, and that even more... even more bizarre Abyssal Corpses had emerged from the core Black Domain to the west... those things are said to have bat wings and wield scythe-like claws... Upon hearing this, Zhang Bo suddenly sat up from his sickbed, and Zhang Song was so agitated that he almost tore open his wound, desperately demanding to see you! They said... they said it was of utmost importance! They had to report to you immediately, in person! It was about... about those Abyssal Corpses deep within Long City... and the source of the End Wolf Shadow's power! It was extremely important! The Grand Steward judged the situation to be urgent and immediately sent me on horseback to report!"

Shen Mu's fingertips tapped lightly on the cold railing of the command platform. Prisoners of the Green Leaf Group? Zhang Song, Zhang Bo… these two names were immediately and precisely unearthed from the depths of his memory.

He turned around, his gaze fixed on the rolling darkness to the west, as if trying to see through the deep black mist to the very core of the ruins of Longcheng, an area where even the light of the Holy Light Tower Forest could not penetrate for long.

Zhang Song, Zhang Bo.

They are the backbone of the Green Leaf Group.

Shen Mu did not kill them. It was not out of mercy or pity. Keeping them alive to receive treatment was both a means of extracting their value and a strategic reserve for when necessary.

Now, the Shadow of the End Wolves occupies the core of the ruins, the forms of the Abyss Power are bizarre and ever-changing, and new unknown inferior remains have appeared deep within Long City.

These two prisoners, this card he had deliberately left untouched, it seems it's time to reveal them.

"A debt of gratitude?" Shen Mu sneered silently to himself. This was nothing more than a necessary investment and repayment in a cold war.

Without further hesitation, he spoke decisively, his voice carrying an undeniable power: "Caranzo!"

"exist!"

"Send your six most elite Holy Tree Knights to the medical camp immediately! Bring these two men up to me!" Shen Mu's gaze was sharp as a blade. "Maintain constant vigilance, without fail! Let them ride horses; if they can't, use stretchers! But make sure they arrive safely before me. Tell them I'm giving them a chance, a chance to repay the debt they owe this land. Tell them to shut their mouths and bring me everything they know about the depths of Long City, down to the last detail!" He paused, his tone emphasizing, "Especially along the route through the western root wall area, increase vigilance! I don't want to see a single jackal arrow wasted on the 'key' I've carefully preserved!"

“Yes, sir!” Caranzo said without any further words, striking his chest heavily with his right hand in a standard knightly salute. His eyes showed no more doubt, only unconditional obedience to the order.

He strode down the platform, his heavy footsteps echoing between the wooden steps.

The wait wasn't long, but it felt particularly oppressive against the backdrop of this desolate battlefield.

Shen Mu stood motionless on the high platform, like a javelin driven deep into the earth.

The inky vortex in the west resembled a bottomless beast's eye, continuously brewing malice.

Finally, the heavy sound of horses' hooves echoed from the inner passage of the fortress, accompanied by the clanging rhythm of armor plates colliding.

Caranzo took the lead, his mithril chainmail gleaming subtly in the dim light.

Six knights, fully clad in the iconic silver-grey plate armor of the Holy Tree Knights, followed closely behind, closely guarding two hunched figures draped in thick cloaks in the center of the group—or rather, sandwiched between them.

Upon reaching the foot of the platform, the knights nimbly dismounted. Two knights stepped forward and, half-helping and half-inviting, carried Zhang Song and Zhang Bo down from their horses and onto the platform.

The two stood in front of Shen Mu, looking extremely awkward and uneasy.

Their faces were still pale, almost transparent, their eyes were sunken, and their lips were cracked. They were clearly recovering from serious injuries and extremely weak after a long and bumpy journey.

Beneath the rough linen clothing, the outlines of bandages wrapped around the shoulders and arms could be vaguely seen.

They lowered their heads, not daring to look directly into Shen Mu's gaze, which seemed to pierce their souls, their bodies trembling slightly from the cold or fear.

"Zhang Song, Zhang Bo." Shen Mu spoke, without any titles or pleasantries, directly stating their names. His calm tone felt like two cold chisels striking their hearts.

Both of them trembled simultaneously, instinctively looking up and then quickly looking down again.

“We…we…” Zhang Bo, as the elder brother, tried to speak, his voice hoarse and dry, like rusty iron scraping against each other, filled with heavy fear and an urgent desire to desperately grasp at something.

"Raise your head!" Shen Mu's voice was not loud, but it contained an unyielding will, like an invisible whip lashing at them.

The two brothers seemed nailed to the spot, struggling to lift their heads, their gazes timid, filled with despair and a last glimmer of hope, as they looked at Shen Mu. The icy wind on the ramparts seemed to freeze for a moment.

Shen Mu's gaze swept back and forth across their faces, as if assessing two old tools that might still hold unexpected value. He raised his hand, and Bandak and Legolas stepped forward in unison, while Caranzo stood guard behind them like a javelin.

"The medical camp has sent word," Shen Mu's gaze lingered on Zhang Song's face, "You've heard unusual activity in the abyss deep within Long City. Do you have something to tell me?" His words cut straight to the heart of the matter, "About those newly emerged monsters? And where they're lurking?"

Zhang Song took a deep breath, as if summoning the greatest courage he had ever possessed, and spoke before his brother could: "Yes! Commander! The new monsters... are not just the same inferior creatures as before... they've changed! They've become... even more terrifying!" His voice trembled with excitement and weakness, choked with sobs, "I heard... I heard the apprentices say... there are some that can fly... with wings like bats, claws as long as... like sickles for harvesting crops! Like... like ghosts reaping lives!"

The Scythe Demon! Shen Mu confirmed the information in his mind.

A cold glint flashed in Legolas's emerald green eyes.

“The core…the very core of the Longcheng ruins…the westernmost…the deepest, darkest place!” Zhang Bo struggled to speak, his voice equally dry and hoarse, but with a forced, suppressed fear and urgency than Zhang Song’s. “When Green Leaf was still here…we were there, underground beneath the old city’s central square…we discovered some…ancient tombs of the Seventh Dynasty, tombs that came from the Spirit Realm…”

Zhang Song nodded vigorously, adding urgently, "Yes! We're in there... at the deepest point of that tomb complex, at the most chaotic intersection of energy nodes... we... we discovered something... something very, very ancient..." He swallowed imaginary saliva, his face growing even paler, "It's not the power of the undead... it's earlier... more terrifying! It's a kind of... living 'stone'... or rather... a curse that can 'take root and sprout'... even, it carries some kind of divinity!"

His description was bizarre and vague, but it successfully captured everyone's attention.

The intersection of the Seventh Dynasty tombs?

Ancient things?

A power different from that of the undead?

Divinity?
"Explain yourself!" Shen Mu's voice turned colder, carrying a hint of danger. (End of Chapter)