Where Immortals Once Walked

Willow and Doorboard, who had also been promoted into the Gale Army, were naturally part of He Lingchuan’s core crew. Hu Min’s own squad had taken casualties on the last mission, and their captain had been reassigned for other use, so Hu Min simply came over to attach himself to He Lingchuan, and he even dragged A’Luo along with him.

The Gale Army’s combat organization was fairly flexible. A squad could run anywhere from five to ten people, depending on what the captain decided, and they could also temporarily borrow personnel as needed.

So for the time being, their squad lineup stabilized like this. In truth, there were only three actual rookies, and today, all three of them were going out on the mission.

Before long, He Lingchuan met up with Willow and Doorboard. Under orders, they headed for the prison.

Panlong City had three major prisons. The highest-ranked and most tightly secured one was in the northern part of the city, not far from the northern gate, and it was called Tiger Mouth. That was where they were going today.

Security there was severe. One had to present a mandate token, and then the guards would verify the accompanying documents.

The sealed order He Lingchuan handed over contained only two lines:

“Prisoner Number Twenty-Seven, carry out Resolution One.”

It was signed by Deputy Commander Zhao Xianhe, with his seal stamped beneath.

To be honest, when He Lingchuan saw the issuer’s name, he froze for a beat.

Skinny had been gossiping not long ago that this Deputy Commander had not shown his face in ages. Even routine inspections at the Martial Review Hall had been handled by Wen Daolun in his stead. People were whispering that Zhao Xianhe had likely been pulled into something major.

And yet now, He Lingchuan’s first mission after officially becoming a full member of the Gale Army was an order issued by Zhao Xianhe himself.

So Zhao Xianhe’s fine?

The prison gate guard took the document and scrutinized every character, then said, “Wait outside.”

He Lingchuan and the other two waited outside for a little over a quarter-hour. Then three carriages rolled out of the prison, one after another.

Each looked exactly the same. They were plain wooden box-carriages, each drawn by two horses, with no markings whatsoever. Gray canvas awnings were pulled down tight, hiding the interior completely.

They were the sort of carriage you could see all over the streets—so ordinary that even if you saw one three times, you might not remember what it looked like.

Then, a fourth carriage emerged. The prison gate guard said to He Lingchuan, “Your turn. Get on.”

He Lingchuan and Doorboard tethered their own horses to the rear of the carriage and hopped up onto the front bench. Willow lifted the curtain and climbed into the compartment. The carriage started moving at a slow, steady pace.

They left Panlong City through the northern gate and, as instructed, headed toward the Divine Descent Platform in the highland to the northwest.

The Day of Divine Descent had already passed. The platform had gone back to being desolate and empty. If it had been inside Panlong City, people might occasionally have gone there to mourn or pay respects, but it lay dozens of kilometers outside the city. Up here, the only constant residents were the mountain wind and the dense forest.

For the living, survival always came first.

The three of them did not speak for the entire journey. That, too, had been ordered from above. So He Lingchuan had no idea what or who was in the carriage. As long as Willow did not make a sound, everything inside stayed quiet.

Only occasionally did he hear a faint clang from within, like metal striking metal.

By the time they reached the Divine Descent Platform, the wind had grown stronger.

This place was open ground. If anyone approached, you could spot them at a glance.

Doorboard lifted the back flap. Willow jumped down, leading someone out of the carriage.

The person’s wrists and ankles were bound in chains. Every step was painfully heavy and loud.

So that’s where the metallic sounds were coming from.

Dark red talismanic runes flowed across the chains. Without the proper method, they would be extremely difficult to remove.

The prisoner also wore a black hood. He could not see them, but neither could they see him.

Only then did He Lingchuan take out the second sealed order.

It was a small bamboo tube of pale green jade, sealed with red wax. By now, He Lingchuan already knew that this was the exclusive packaging for Beijia chewing tobacco.

Panlong City’s upper ranks had a sense of humor he truly did not understand. Still, a container for a sealed or secret order did not need to be conspicuous.

He tore away the wax seal and poured out a slip of paper and a small scroll.

The three of them crowded close, resulting in six eyes staring intently on the paper. The slip contained only a simple sentence written in red:

Have the prisoner kneel at the Divine Descent Pillar and execute them on the spot!

Their very first mission after formally joining the Gale Army was a secret execution?

This was not a joke. The bottom of the note bore Zhao Xianhe’s signature and seal again.

The scroll was a portrait, meant for confirming the prisoner’s identity to prevent mistakes.

He Lingchuan lifted his gaze toward the Divine Descent Pillar.

It stabbed straight into the sky. Just as before, it was spotless, untouched by dust.

Doorboard was strong. He hauled the prisoner up to the pillar and then kicked the back of his knee.

Thud.

The prisoner dropped to both knees, facing the pillar.

Doorboard looked to He Lingchuan. “Broken Blade?”

He Lingchuan nodded. Doorboard yanked off the black hood.

The prisoner was a man of twenty-four or twenty-five. His beard was unshaven, his eyes shot through with blood, and though his clothing was filthy, the fabric itself was of luxurious material no ordinary commoner of Panlong City could afford.

Willow compared the man to the portrait, confirmed the match, and said, “Give him a clean death.”

At those words, the prisoner began thrashing his head and making muffled, frantic sounds, like he was screaming himself hoarse.

With a soft plop, the gag stuffed into his mouth fell out.

“You’ve got the wrong man!” he roared. “I’m Zhao Rong! My father is Deputy Commander Zhao Xianhe!”

All three of them jolted.

This prisoner is Zhao Xianhe’s son?

“This is a massive misunderstanding!” Zhao Rong seized the few breaths of time he had left and unloaded a torrent of words. “Tiger Mouth must’ve made a mistake! Don’t kill me! Go send word to Lord Zhao first, he can clear this up. It’ll take you half a day at most. I swear I’ll give each of you a gold house!”

In Panlong City, luxury housing or residences were divided into four tiers, namely emerald, jade, crimson[1], and gold. A gold house was the lowest tier of luxury housing, but it was also the only type of house in the city that could be freely traded.

Its value spoke for itself.

Willow shoved the sealed order right up in his face. “No need to send word. This is Lord Zhao’s own writ.”

Zhao Rong stared at it, his eyes bulging, his whole body trembling uncontrollably.

“No... no, it can’t be. This is impossible!”

Willow unfolded the portrait and showed it to him as well. “If this isn’t you, then who is it, your long-lost twin?”

The portrait was, unfortunately, very accurate. It captured the essence so well that one could recognize him at a glance.

He Lingchuan seized the back of Zhao Rong’s neck and forced his head down toward the Divine Descent Pillar.

“Time’s short, repent properly.”

Why did the order specifically demand the prisoner kneel at the pillar? It was clearly to make him repent. Otherwise, they could have simply dragged him anywhere and cut him down. There was no need to haul him to the Divine Descent Platform specifically.

He Lingchuan’s grip was precise. Pressed at the right tendon at the back of the neck, Zhao Rong’s entire body went numb. Only his mouth could still move.

“My father would never want me dead!” Zhao Rong suddenly broke, screaming wildly. “Someone’s framing me! Someone’s trying to harm me, trying to harm Lord Zhao! Believe me, don’t kill me...”

He struggled and twisted, refusing to kneel properly, fighting with every shred of instinct—even as, deep down, he understood the end was already here.

Willow said suddenly, “He peed himself.”

The other two glanced down. Sure enough, the prisoner’s trousers were wet.

All three fell briefly speechless.

Deputy Commander Zhao’s son is this much of a coward?

Zhao Rong shrieked again. “All the city’s weapons and armor come from my father! The formula for the white wrought-iron spear was something I stole from Fuhe Fort! A son pays a father’s debt, a son inherits a father’s merit! We worked ourselves to the bone, so what’s wrong with enjoying a little comfort? My father and I have done so much for Panlong City! If not for us, would the whole city have the good life it has now?!”

He was spraying spit everywhere, even twisting his head as if he wanted to bite He Lingchuan’s hand.

“You petty worms, petty worms who don’t know gratitude! I curse you all to die miserable deaths!”

The terror of death had swallowed him whole. Everything he had ever stuffed down inside came pouring out in one panicked flood.

“Worked yourselves to the bone?” He Lingchuan’s voice turned icy. Suddenly, he slammed Zhao Rong’s face into the pillar.

“This is what working yourselves to the bone looks like!”

“Was that merit yours? Or was it the four hundred thousand heroes and martyrs buried in the Eternal Sleep Wasteland who bought it with their lives? Are you and your father really so special? Just because you survived to the end, you think you can grab all the merit for yourselves?”

For every sentence, He Lingchuan drove Zhao Rong’s head into the pillar once.

His tone stayed even, remaining unhurried and controlled all throughout, but each impact was harder than the last.

Blood poured down Zhao Rong’s face, and his screams tore the air apart.

Willow and Doorboard exchanged a look. Their blood was boiling, their eyes stinging, their noses burning with emotion, and yet they were also shaken by the ruthless fury coiled inside He Lingchuan’s voice.

Broken Blade had never been this angry.

“We...” Willow started, as if wanting to ask something.

He Lingchuan casually drew his saber and drove it in from behind, straight through Zhao Rong’s heart.

Fleeting Life was too sharp. Zhao Rong did not even realize what had happened at first. He was still babbling incoherently when he looked down and saw a bright, snowy point of blade jutting out of his chest.

He froze in shock.

He Lingchuan twisted the hilt to the left. Zhao Rong tried to speak, but blood gushed into his throat.

Doorboard counted silently, counting two beats. Zhao Rong’s body went limp.

He Lingchuan pulled his saber free and said flatly, “He wasn’t going to repent properly anyway.” No need to waste time.

He wiped the blade clean against the man’s back and sheathed it.

Doorboard shrugged. “At least you left him intact.”

“We don’t have a personal grudge,” He Lingchuan replied. “A single clean kill is the most mercy I’m willing to give.”

With the execution complete and no complications, the three of them loaded the corpse back into the carriage. He Lingchuan reminded the other two, “This stays secret. It dies in our stomachs.”

Doorboard and Willow both answered, “Understood.”

Only then did their squad drive the carriage slowly down the mountain.

At the foot of the slope, people were already waiting. The leader was in his fifties, hair streaked gray, neck craned long as if he was trying to see into the carriage.

He Lingchuan’s squad untied their own mounts, handed the carriage over, and left at once.

They were likely members of the Zhao Family because the trio had barely gone a few dozen meters when sobbing rose behind them.

Willow let out a quiet breath.

But soon the gray-haired elder spurred his horse and chased them down, cutting them off as he demanded, “Why is our young lord’s face covered in blood? Why is his forehead injured?! Did you... did you torture him?!”

There was no hiding the swelling on Zhao Rong’s forehead after all that head-banging.

He Lingchuan answered evenly, “Young Lord Zhao kneeled at the Divine Descent Pillar and repeatedly struck his head against it, wailing his regrets. I would say his repentance was... quite profound.”

The elder flew into a rage. “Y-you dared use torture!”

“We carried out Lord Zhao’s orders with absolute precision,” He Lingchuan said, unfolding Zhao Xianhe’s writ before the man. His voice turned cold as iron. “If you have objections, file them with the Red General.”

* * *

With that, the mission was complete.

Wildflowers bloomed thick along both sides of the road home.

Bees and butterflies fluttered through the air. A gentle breeze drifted by. It was a peaceful world, bright and calm. In a nearby village, children played in the fields, faces innocent and radiant.

He Lingchuan stared at the abundance of colors, lost in thought.

For years, people had been stealing gold from the Red Peak Mine, and Headman Hu had chosen to conceal it.

Panlong City’s official in charge of mountains, rivers, and mineral resources was Deputy Commander Zhao Xianhe.

Not long ago, Zhao Xianhe had all but vanished.

And today, with a single secret order, Lord Zhao had sent his own son to the Divine Descent Pillar to be executed on the spot.

Zhao Rong’s death had not even gone through a public trial or formal conviction. It was simply carried out in secret, by their hands.

1. Note that this crimson is written the same way as the Chi in Chipa Highland. Do also note that this is sometimes translated as scarlet or simply red. ☜