Chapter 19, Killing Zhuang Hong_1
Zhuang Hong spoke cautiously, his eyes carefully observing Kedo.
The plan had been flawless.
The fact that the other party had come to meet proved its feasibility.
But they had clearly underestimated that Lord, a Lord of a unique faction capable of commanding Skeletons.
The attempt to lure and kill him had failed, leaving Zhuang Hong deeply unsettled.
*Dependent on others, scraping by at their mercy.*
That perfectly described his current predicament.
The Orcs held his life and death in their hands, forcing him to act ingratiatingly and obsequiously.
"If you weren't still useful, I would've chopped you apart already," Kedo said coldly.
Zhuang Hong's territory had already become a subsidiary village of the Fireblade Tribe.
Every day, it was tasked with gathering resources for the tribe.
A free source of labor like this was too valuable to simply kill without cause.
"Yes, yes, I promise to do my best," Zhuang Hong said repeatedly, wiping sweat from his forehead as he nervously assured Kedo.
"Hmph, you'd better prove your worth."
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
Suddenly, the sounds of sharp projectiles slicing through the air erupted just outside the room.
Mingled with them came the anguished howls of Orc warriors.
Kedo abruptly stood and strode toward the door but halted when an arrow came sailing straight down before him.
Thwack, thwack, thwack!
Arrows fell like torrential rain, weaving a massive net that enveloped the entire camp.
The whistling barrage ripped through tents, felling Orc after Orc without pause.
"Bone Arrow!" Kedo bellowed as he bent down to pick up an arrow from outside the doorway.
The skeletal arrowhead crumbled upon touching the ground, leaving behind fragments of bone still clinging to the shaft.
"Find cover, don't run around," Kedo shouted at the top of his lungs.
Panic-stricken Orcs scattered briefly, then began searching for structures to shield themselves from the relentless arrows.
Inside the camp, cover was scarce. Those who managed to squeeze into shelter survived, while those who didn't...
The arrow storm raged for over ten minutes.
A few managed to survive by using their comrades' corpses as shields, but countless Orcs perished under the rain of Bone Arrows.
*Whoever had unleashed this assault must have been utterly unrestrained.*
*It was nothing short of extravagant—shooting arrows as though they cost nothing.*
Once the arrow fire ceased, Kedo and several others finally emerged from the hall, ascending the camp walls.
Under the moonlight, they saw them—the skeletons.
Hundreds of skeletons wielding light crossbows stood silently, illuminated by the pale glow.
Kedo's rage erupted uncontrollably at the sight.
"It's those lowly skeletons! Fireblade warriors, take up your weapons and follow me—we'll slaughter them all!" he roared.
Roar!!
Roar, roar, roar!
The Orc warriors, their morale ignited, grabbed nearby weapons and howled furiously.
Over a thousand Beast Clan warriors charged forward like maddened beasts toward the Skeletons.
Their eyes glowed crimson, wild and delirious.
Each step radiated oppressive energy.
Yet.
As the Orcs stormed out of the camp...
Massive numbers of skeleton soldiers emerged from both sides of the road.
In the moonlit forest, skeletons armed with sharp blades filled every corner.
No command was necessary.
The moment they appeared, the two sides plunged into combat.
Two thousand against one thousand.
In the span of an instant, the Skeleton Sea swallowed the Orc warriors whole, leaving no trace of them.
Only the guttural cries of the Orcs' fury and despair echoed faintly.
Half an hour later.
The battle was over; every Orc had been slain. Kedo himself died gruesomely under countless blades.
No one survived.
Fang Hao, commanding the skeleton soldiers, strode into the blood-soaked camp.
Zhuang Hong huddled in a corner, trembling uncontrollably.
*He was finished—completely.*
*He should've known better than to provoke this man.*
*Why, why did he foolishly curry favor with the Orcs and plot against this man?* he questioned himself bitterly.
"Zhuang Hong, right? I haven't forgotten your name. Do you have any last words?" Fang Hao asked as he stepped before him, speaking in a soft tone.
"Don't, don't kill me! I was wrong. I'll give you my territory—I swear! We're from the same homeland; don't kill me," Zhuang Hong pleaded loudly.
He'd negotiated with Orcs; surely he could negotiate with a human.
Though Fang Hao appeared as nothing more than a Skeleton now, Zhuang Hong was certain he was human.
*Hope lingered in his heart—naive and desperate.*
But Fang Hao was unmoved.
"That's your dying wish? Got it," Fang Hao said casually, raising the iron sword in his hand.
Zhuang Hong's muscles twitched as he shouted, "What choice did I have? My territory is near the Orc Tribe's lands! I just wanted to survive—what's wrong with wanting to live? I couldn't resist; I couldn't do anything else. I just wanted to live...!"
He burst into tears by the end, overcome by emotion.
*Every person's circumstances were different.*
*Zhuang Hong thought he had a poor start, but Fang Hao knew his own beginning had been nothing short of a death sentence.*
*The fault lay in Zhuang Hong's choices.*
*He'd chosen to try and kill Fang Hao.*
"I understand now. If you manage to return to Earth, be sure to send me a dream," Fang Hao quipped.
With that, his long sword slashed downward, effortlessly slicing through Zhuang Hong's throat.
Blood sprayed outward.
Zhuang Hong's face froze in terror, his hands clutching at his neck in vain as he tried to stave off death.
But it was futile. He collapsed to the ground, his eyes losing their light.
...
*Victory makes a king; defeat makes a peasant.*
*If, at the start, Fang Hao had trusted Zhuang Hong and met with him personally—he would surely have died.*
*And Zhuang Hong would have emerged victorious, a clever tactician who triumphed over his enemy.*
*But not today.*
Fang Hao had won, unyielding and devoid of hesitation.
What were "mistakes," "regrets," "pleas for mercy," and "shared origin"? Nothing more than the ramblings of a defeated man.
*Bitter is the hatred that survivors carry, waiting endlessly for vengeance.*
Thus, killing Zhuang Hong was no different from slaying the Lord who first drove Fang Hao into a beast's den to steal a chest—it brought no mental burden.
He bent down and retrieved Zhuang Hong's Book of Lords.
Opening it to inspect, he found he couldn't use it—perhaps because of identity issues with his skeletal body.
Fang Hao tucked the Book of Lords away.
Then, controlling his Skeleton form, he squatted down and began removing Zhuang Hong's clothes.
In mere moments, Zhuang Hong was stripped bare.
"Still pretty pale," Fang Hao observed wryly.
*This wasn't some perverse hobby—it was necessity.*
*In this world, with no extra clothes for washing and dressing, survival trumped social niceties.*
Since Zhuang Hong had perished, his attire would now serve Fang Hao.
Blood-stained garments, pants, and sneakers were all removed and neatly placed to the side.
The sneakers caught Fang Hao's attention; they seemed expensive.
"Take him out and bury him," Fang Hao ordered.
Two skeleton soldiers entered, picked up Zhuang Hong's corpse, and carried it away.
*At least he'd be laid to rest.*
*Perhaps, when the nightmare ended, everyone would return to their original world.*
Walking out of the Clan Leader's hall, Fang Hao gazed at the starry sky. A faint hint of dawn glimmered on the horizon.
It was probably around three or four in the morning.
Skeletons still worked efficiently, stripping gear off the dead Orc warriors and gathering it together.
Standing at the hall's doorway, Fang Hao's skull resonated with sharp pain—a rhythmic throbbing like someone snapping at his neural cords.
*The exhaustion of a nightlong battle and excessive use of the "God's Presence" ability had drained his spiritual power.*
After briefly giving orders to the skeletons, Fang Hao dismissed the "God's Presence" state and returned to his original body.
He drank a mouthful of water and slept soundly, his fatigue finally catching up with him.