Chapter 48#

Blood Stains the Snowfield Great Wall#

Snowfield, refugee encampment.

Han Ye kept one hand on the blade at his waist as he hurried through the narrow, uneven snow paths between ice huts. In the distance, dark clouds were gathering ominously, and snowflakes fell like ice shards from the sky—a harbinger of the coming blizzard. The thugs from the Paradise Pavilion were herding refugees into caves for shelter. The people, trembling from cold, collected warming spirit stone hand warmers and food from the thugs, helping children and carrying the elderly toward the cave entrances.

“I won’t go! I won’t go!” A refugee suddenly cried out loudly, clinging to a thug’s leg and refusing to let go. “There are demons inside! I can’t go in!”

He blocked others waiting to collect spirit stones and provisions. The thugs pried him away. Han Ye passed by without breaking stride, his brow slightly furrowed, and entered a narrow ice hut. Ah Pan was already waiting inside, a corpse lying at his feet covered with white cloth.

“What happened?” Han Ye asked gravely.

Ah Pan pulled back the white cloth, revealing a mangled body beneath. The head was nowhere to be found—bones, flesh, and blood scattered in pieces, impossible to distinguish which parts were legs or arms. A few pale fingers could barely be made out in the gore. Despite having seen it once before, Ah Pan’s face had gone deathly pale, and he was barely suppressing his nausea. He said, “Brother Ye, this is the fifth corpse like this this month. Is there a serial killer here? People’s hearts are in turmoil lately. Many have claimed to see demons. That bastard must be behind this. No one dares cause trouble under the Paradise Pavilion’s watch. My brothers and I will definitely hunt him down.”

Han Ye’s brows knitted into a deep furrow, and he slowly shook his head. “I just received an anonymous message, delivered through the border officials. It says there’s a man-eating demon in the Snowfield. We need to find a way to evacuate everyone.”

“That’s nonsense! A man-eating demon,” Ah Pan scoffed.

Han Ye grabbed his collar. “Have you forgotten what we saw in the Kunlun Snow Mountains? Those things that glowed—what do you think they were?”

Ah Pan recalled that night, stammering, “There… there really are demons.”

Han Ye released him and turned to leave the ice hut. A long queue had formed in front of the cave entrance, with emaciated refugees waiting to collect supplies, huddling together for warmth, their faces a portrait of misery. There were simply too many people—besides this encampment, there were many others, and the Black Street gang couldn’t accommodate so many. Perhaps he should send some sorcerers here to strengthen the guard posts. Han Ye furrowed his brow in thought, his gaze drifting toward the distance. The black clouds hung low, as if crawling through the snow and wind. Within the surging snow storm, several dark specks suddenly appeared, rushing rapidly toward the encampment.

Han Ye’s breath caught. What were those things?

Many refugees noticed the unusual sight and pointed toward the distant phenomenon. The dark specks grew larger and larger. Ah Pan activated the listening secret art—among the howling wind and snow, the sound of their membrane wings cutting through the cold wind came through clearly. They approached at a terrifying speed. Soon everyone could see their true forms—massive bats with wingspans as wide as an adult human’s outstretched arms.

“Brother Ye, run!” Ah Pan pushed Han Ye. “Run now!”

“Into the cave!” Han Ye shouted. “Stop watching, get into the cave!”

The crowd surged toward the cave entrance like frenzied bees piling over one another. Many stumbled and fell, quickly trampled into pulp by those behind them. The Paradise Pavilion’s thugs tried to maintain order, but one of them tripped and was immediately trampled beyond recognition. The thugs’ eyes went red, and they pressed fire cannons against the refugees’ heads.

From inside the cave, people called out in despair: “No more! It’s packed! It’s packed!”

At that very moment, they heard the demons’ membrane wings beating against the wind and snow—a sound more terrifying than the blizzard itself. The massive bat-like creatures landed atop the ice huts, their claws gripping the ice bricks, their ice-blue eyes fixed upon these frightened mortals. They did not attack immediately, seemingly observing these novel creatures before them.

Ah Pan stared at the trampled thug, desperation in his voice: “Brother Ye, our sorcerer with the formless law gate technique was trampled to death!”

Without that man to open a law gate passage, they had no way to return to Black Street!

Han Ye made an instant decision. “Seal the cave! Everyone else, run with me!”

The black flame fire erupted instantly, black flame like serpents coiling around Han Ye’s body. He drew his blade and slashed with all his might, and scorching flames roared outward. The bat demons were driven back, circling in the air above. The refugees took this chance to flee, and a stone gate descended rapidly before the cave. Han Ye continued slashing while sprinting, the bat demons pursuing relentlessly at his heels. All the sorcerers from the Paradise Pavilion drew fire cannons and kept up the assault, suppressing the bat demons with firepower and covering the refugees’ escape. But there were far too many refugees and far too few sorcerers—they quickly became prey for the demons. A bat demon swooped down at the edge of the crowd, its membrane wings spreading like a cape of snow. A female refugee at the edge turned in despair, meeting the demon’s furry, grotesque face directly. She screamed in terror, and in an instant her throat was torn open.

Ah Pan fired a shot that struck the bat’s head. The massive creature lost balance, its black wings sweeping across. Ah Pan covered his head and fled, wailing: “Brother Ye, where do we go!”

Han Ye gritted his teeth and roared: “The Great Wall of the Snowfield!”

It was the Great Wall built by the Secret Sect, separating the Daliang Dynasty from the Snowfield. Every year countless people were exiled beyond its stones. Both the Secret Sect and the noble families had guardian star arrays in each of their cities, but the Great Wall of the Snowfield was laid down with the Celestial Star Array by the white-robed sage herself when she was alive. It was this towering wall and its deadly, refined star array that resisted the blizzards that raged from the Snowfield each winter, making the land inside and outside the wall two different worlds.

The bat demons could never cross the Great Wall. They were closest to the Bukugan Pass. If they could reach the Great Wall, they would be safe!

Blood flowed in rivers the entire way. Many were wounded. Han Ye thrust his blade into a bat demon’s belly, and sticky black blood splattered across his head and face. He withdrew the blade, spun, and his knife, wreathed in black flames, slashed down another demon swooping toward him.

Behind him, several hundred refugees crawled and scrambled to the base of the city wall, shouting: “Open the gates! Open the gates! There are demons in the Snowfield!”

Looking up from below, the towering snow wall seemed to have no top. But from Han Ye’s vantage point, he could see the massive star array spiraling in the sky above the Great Wall. Countless pillars of spirit stone light extended upward from the wall, reaching nearly to the heavens. A bat demon attempted to cross the barrier of light, but the moment it touched the luminescence, it was burned to ash.

The soldiers on the wall stared at the sight below in shock. “What are those flying things?”

Han Ye roared: “Open the gates!”

The thugs he’d brought established a defensive line, raising fire cannons to shoot at the bat demons in the sky. One row finished their magazines and the next row quickly took their place, firing while the first row reloaded.

But this couldn’t continue indefinitely. Ah Pan shouted: “Brother Ye, we’re running out of ammunition!”

Even with a defensive line established, several bat demons broke through. A single one that got past was like a rat in a granary—the refugees were chased, torn apart, their screams rising to the city wall. The soldiers, watching the gruesome scene of flesh and blood below, many couldn’t bear it and suggested opening the gates.

“What if those bat demons fly in after them?” someone objected.

The general’s face was grave. “Deploy the fire cannons, ready the ballista cannons, help them suppress these demons. I’ll report this to the Great Master and request orders to open the gates!”

All soldiers on duty were called to the walls. Boxes of ammunition were opened, soldiers aimed their fire cannons at the bat demons in the sky, a dark line of cold metal barrels. At the drill master’s command, bullets rained down.

Secret Sect, North Star Hall.

The imposing black iron gates swung open as officials entered in single file, carrying ivory ceremonial tablets. Jiang Xueya was among them, wearing a deep crimson round-collar official robe with a stepped opening, bound at the narrow waist by an ornate belt, her legs sheathed in deerskin boots that fit perfectly. Few could wear the official uniform of a martial officer with such dashing grace. In the crowd of officials, she stood out most distinctly.

She was the Commander of the Dragon Might Guard, ranked after the Three Star Officials but before the commanders of the twelve guard divisions. And at the very front, seated upon the black stone throne of the Northern Star, was the man who wielded all the power under heaven. She had not appeared for some time—Tiantai Jing had said she was ill and on leave to recover. Her presence today drew many offers of sympathy. She nodded and smiled, indicating she had recovered. But as she spoke, she felt a gaze heavy with authority and frost fall upon her, and she looked toward the black stone throne. The man’s gray eyes surveyed the entire hall, as if he had never noticed her at all.

The three Star Officials were all absent today, their seats at the front conspicuously empty. Jiang Xueya’s brow wrinkled slightly. Xia Jing approached her side and smiled: “Lady Jiang, you certainly have nerves. You’ve just escaped, and you dare return so quickly for the morning court.”

Jiang Xueya shrugged. “Precisely because I did so openly, the Great Master wouldn’t dare touch me. He’s the one who said I was ill and went home to recover. Now that I’m well, it’s only natural I return to court.”

Xia Jing shook his head repeatedly. “You… what did you do to offend the Great Master? I’ve never seen him so angry.”

Jiang Xueya placed a finger to her lips. “I cannot say—saying it would cost me my head.”

The morning court began. Xia Jing presented the first matter: “The year’s end approaches, and the great audience is drawing near. When the time comes, all the princes and nobles will meet at the North Star Hall to discuss next year’s affairs. The arrangement of the princes’ reception and the security of the border officials—I wonder which colleague is willing to take on this significant responsibility?”

Jiang Xueya stepped forward. “The Dragon Might Guard controls the border garrison and commands the imperial escort troops. Naturally, assigning the great audience security to my division is most fitting.”

Xia Jing bowed toward the black stone throne. “Your Greatness, what are your orders?”

From above, the man’s cold voice came down: “Approved.”

Jiang Xueya withdrew with a smile playing at her lips. Everyone whispered among themselves—the task Jiang Xueya had taken on involved protecting the safety of princes and nobles at the great audience. Such a heavy responsibility assigned to Jiang Xueya showed the Great Master’s reliance on her. Jiang Xueya had always held high office and great power. Now she was even more elevated than before. Even the three Star Officials would need to show her respect in the future.

The first matter concluded, and the rest of the day’s affairs seemed unimportant. Jiang Xueya was beginning to doze off, shifting her weight from one foot to the other in boredom, when suddenly a messenger arrived from below announcing that the commander of the Bukugan Pass garrison of the Great Wall of the Snowfield had come for an audience. A garrison commander leaving his post? What business did he have in the North Star Hall? Jiang Xueya opened her eyes and saw the general kneel before the assembly. He spoke gravely: “Demons and strange creatures have laid siege to refugees in the Snowfield. The casualties are severe. Refugees have fled to the base of the Great Wall, begging us to open the gates and offer them shelter. We request your instruction, Great Master!”

Xia Jing inhaled sharply. “Demons? Strange creatures?”

The Bukugan garrison commander recalled the appearance of the creatures, cold sweat dripping from his brow. “Yes, they are creatures resembling bats. Bloodthirsty and violent, they can fly and run. Their wingspans are the size of a full-grown man.”

Xia Jing sighed. “The creatures of the Snowfield have finally shown themselves. Great Master, these things likely share the same origin as those monsters that returned with the Expeditionary Guard. Everyone, do you remember that military officer who came back to the palace carrying several heads? These past days, our Eagle Valor Guard has exterminated dozens of such creatures in the Kunlun region.”

An official from the Star Observatory said with worry, “Yesterday I observed the stars, and Mars encroached upon the Southern Dipper—a sign of calamity. The demons moving south is no coincidence. The Expeditionary Guard was the first wave, and this is the second. Demons excel at disguise—who knows how many of the refugees are truly human and how many are demons in disguise? Moreover, many of these refugees have been recruited by the Black Street gang, serving Han Ye and the Black Goddess. If we carelessly open the gates, we not only risk demonic disaster but also the danger of the Black Street gang plotting rebellion.” He bowed deeply. “Great Master, we absolutely cannot open the gates. Bukugan Pass is only a hundred leagues from the border—if it falls, the border itself is in peril!”

Xia Jing shook his head. “The refugees are also human lives. Even if they once broke the Secret Sect’s laws, they were not sentenced to death but exiled to the Snowfield to fend for themselves. Now with demons surrounding them, if we do not let them into the city, we risk breaking the people’s hearts.”

Just as these two seemed about to argue, someone stepped in to smooth things over: “You both make valid points, but the situation is urgent. Let us speak less and reach a decision more quickly.”

Tiantai Jing raised his hand, and all voices fell silent.

“Jiang Xueya,” Tiantai Jing said, “speak.”

Jiang Xueya scratched her head. “Great Master, this is too many lives for your humble servant to bear responsibility for.”

Tiantai Jing sighed, barely audibly, his gaze turning distant, looking beyond the hall toward the vast sky.

His voice was cold and severe: “I have promulgated the laws of the Secret Sect to govern the world’s families and peoples. Those who follow the law are good citizens, living in peace and prosperity, their herds thriving. Those who break the law are wicked citizens, subject to correction and punishment, reformed through moral instruction. Those who break it again become criminal citizens, exiled to the Snowfield, never to return. Within the Great Wall are good citizens, devoted to farming and keeping their homesteads. Beyond the Great Wall are criminal citizens, murderous and rapacious, their evil boundless. Why should I diminish the prosperity of good citizens by exposing them to demons and bandits for the sake of criminal refugees? Close the gates, reject the criminal hordes, bar the demons.”

The garrison commander clenched his teeth, said nothing more, and bowed again. “I obey the Great Master’s decree.”

The city gates remained closed. The Paradise Pavilion fighters’ ammunition had long been exhausted, their defensive line collapsed. The bat demons poured in. All the refugees huddled at the base of the wall, relying on the soldiers’ firepower above to hold back the demons, barely surviving. Han Ye was covered in blood, his eyes nearly red from killing. His brothers had suffered more than half casualties. Ah Pan was exhausted. Han Ye spun and used his black flame to set fire to the gate, but the gate was built of giant stone—it feared no fire.

“Open the gates!” A woman in tattered clothes desperately held up the child in her arms. “Please, open the gates! I committed a crime, but my child is innocent!”

Refugees shouted desperately: “Please, please! I only stole a lord’s purse. I don’t want to die!”

The soldiers looked at each other uncertainly. They had received the general’s orders not to open the gates, only to use their fire cannons to give some suppression. But these demons had thick hides and were agile—of every ten bullets fired, only one could barely wound them.

Some refugees took desperate risks, trying to climb the wall with ice picks. Secret Sect soldiers raised their fire cannons and shouted a warning: “Climbers will be killed!”

Before the soldiers could fire, a bat demon flew close to the wall and snatched away the screaming refugee in its jaws. His neck was caught, blood spurting out, raining down like drops upon the heads of the refugees below. Everyone screamed and fled, but they couldn’t get far—the shadow of bat demons descended over them.

Han Ye swung his blade uselessly. His ammunition was gone. Fewer and fewer of his men remained around him. More and more corpses lay on the ground. The stench of blood was nauseating. In the ice-blue eyes of the demons, he was as insignificant as an ant. His blade was shattered and chipped. A brother from the Paradise Pavilion was pinned under a demon’s claw, its fangs closing on his throat. Han Ye swung his sword, sending out flames to drive the demon back, but his brother was already dead. He was like a trapped beast, defending a corner of the position, though that position was crumbling, though surely no one would survive.

A massive bat demon dove down, its talons gleaming coldly.

Ah Pan screamed and threw himself onto Han Ye, shielding him with his own body. The demon’s claws raked across Ah Pan’s back, tearing his flesh. Hot blood streamed like a small brook, flowing down Ah Pan’s face, dripping onto Han Ye’s. Han Ye watched helplessly as the demon drank Ah Pan’s blood and chewed his flesh. He roared in fury and tried desperately to rise, but Ah Pan held his mouth firmly shut, tears and blood mixing to smear his face.

“Brother Ye, play dead. Please, play dead,” Ah Pan cried through his tears.

Rage and sorrow overwhelmed Han Ye’s chest. All he could do was lie on the ground and watch Ah Pan slowly die.

The blizzard came, as if heaven and earth themselves trembled in rage. Heavy snow buried the bloody battlefield. The bat demons flapped their wings and rose into the air, fleeing the raging wind and snow. Not a single refugee below remained alive. Dismembered limbs and broken bodies lay scattered, and blood stained the snow. Han Ye lay among them, frozen and numb, his eyes fixed on Ah Pan’s blood-streaked face.

Ah Pan’s eyes began to lose their light. His back, ravaged by teeth and claws, revealed the pale butterfly-shaped bone beneath, like the fragments of shattered wings. His voice was barely a whisper: “If only… if only Boss Su were here. He has mechanism beasts, and he knows the Wind Empress Star Array. He could definitely have brought everyone home. Boss Su taught me to calculate the stars, but I… I was stupid and couldn’t learn.”

Han Ye’s fists clenched so tightly that his nails drew blood. The blizzard was so cold, cold enough to freeze his heart.

The last gleam in Ah Pan’s eyes faded away like smoke.

“Brother Ye, I want to go home.”