Chapter 383: Accept Your Fate

“Mmm...”

Xue San lay flat on the ground and pressed his nose close to the grass.

He drew in a deep breath.

His face showed pure intoxication.

Beside him, A’Ming silently opened his waterskin again and drank the last mouthful of blood inside.

Then he asked:

“The scent of nature?”

“No.

“Sheep shit.”

“You have a wonderful appetite.”

Xue San shook his head.

“Know what else I can smell?”

“Didn’t you just tell me?”

“More than that.

“I can tell the sheep here are fat and healthy.”

“That’s a useful skill.

“I’m impressed.”

“As you should be.”

“In the future, if Master’s son gets sick, you can help by tasting his... you know... and show your loyalty.”

“Why the hell would I eat that from Master’s son?”

“Then are you saying you want to eat—”

A’Ming frowned slightly.

“End this topic.

“It’s disgusting enough to make me lose my appetite for blood.”

“You’re one to talk.

“Why did you insist on coming out here with me instead of staying in the city?

“The workshops still aren’t running properly. Production hasn’t resumed.

“You could be sleeping comfortably in your ice cellar.

“So what did you come out here for?”

“To play,” A’Ming said.

“Your hands were itching?

“Oh, no.

“Your teeth were itching?”

“That’s part of it.

“In the past, whenever I was on a battlefield, I had to stand beside Master and block arrows for him.”

“Like a human shield.”

“Mm.

“So I could never really let loose.

“Master also has terrible luck.

“Stray arrows are always flying at him.”

“I understand.

“What’s the other reason?”

“The other reason is that after screening and comparing many samples, I found a kind of blood that remains delicious even when its owner isn’t very strong.

“It’s the blood of ***.”

“The blood of what?”

“***.”

“No, I mean, we’re talking face to face.

“Why are you still censoring yourself?”

“Habit.”

A’Ming pointed toward the empty air diagonally above his head.

“Back when we were in comics, whenever we talked, wasn’t there supposed to be a speech bubble here?”

“Yeah.

“So?”

“Certain words would automatically get censored.

“For example, take ‘horse’s eye.’ Drop the wrong character and suddenly it becomes **.”

“So whose blood is it?”

“The point is that I can’t tell you.”

“Why?”

“I’m afraid you’ll report me.”

“That realistic?”

“Of course.

“Everyone knows you’re still holding a bellyful of resentment right now.

“I’m afraid you’ll drag me down with you.”

“I feel wronged.”

“Of course you do.”

A’Ming smiled.

Then he tied the now-empty waterskin back onto his waist.

Ahead of him and Xue San lay a tribal encampment.

The settlement covered an enormous area.

There were plenty of livestock.

But not many people.

This was west of Deep Pool, territory that had once belonged to the Anyang Tribe.

The Anyang Tribe had already been swallowed by the Naiman Tribe.

According to snowfield custom, members of the defeated Anyang Tribe would be reduced to the lowest class of slaves and transported back into Naiman territory.

Then the Naiman Tribe would send some of its own people to occupy and operate the Anyang Tribe’s former pastures.

It was both digestion and division the most common pattern of tribal expansion on the snowfields.

But the new daughter settlement created here was still weak.

It needed time to develop and recover.

“Remember the first time we traveled far from home with Master?” Xue San asked. “Situation was almost the same.

“Only back then, Master and I were inside the camp.

“Now we’re outside.”

Back then they had been the ones getting ambushed.

Now they were preparing to ambush someone else.

“You finish scouting the place?” A’Ming asked.

“You came here with me, didn’t you?”

“Oh.”

“Don’t tell me you thought I could smell their troop deployment from sheep dung too.”

“You can’t?”

Xue San flared his nostrils and stared at A’Ming.

“Are you serious?”

“I think you could develop in that direction.”

“Hehehe.

“Our skill points were already allocated.

“They’re just grayed out right now.

“You can’t trick me into changing my skill tree.”

“Recovering everything exactly as before sounds boring.

“We’ve started over once already.

“Why not develop something new?”

“Hiss...”

“What?”

“I suddenly feel your level of enlightenment is very high.”

“Thank you.”

Xue San stood and shook out all three legs, warming himself up.

“This camp was breached by the Naiman Tribe not long ago and still hasn’t been fully repaired.

“There are holes everywhere.

“See that section ahead?

“There are two towers there.

“Let’s call them towers.

“Then over on that side, there’s a mounted patrol that circles the perimeter at night.

“You pick one.”

“The mounted patrol.”

“Fine.

“I’ll handle the towers.

“Let’s set a time in our heads.

“One hour?”

“Works for me.”

“No noise.”

“You think I need you to teach me?”

“Hehehe.”

Xue San laughed and clapped his hands.

Nearly a hundred black-clad figures appeared behind them.

“Two hours from now, infiltrate along our route.

“Dai Li, go notify the troops behind us.

“Three hours from now, they attack the camp on time.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dai Li turned and ran back to deliver the message.

The other figures slowly disappeared into the surrounding darkness again.

A’Ming said:

“Dai Li.

“That name really has character.

“You gave it to him?”

“His parents did.

“I decided to keep it.

“For good luck.”

“Where exactly do you see good luck in that name?”

“Well, I can’t exactly board an airplane in this age.”

“Fair.”

“Enough.

“Let’s move.

“I’ve been suffocating lately.

“You have no idea.

“The day before yesterday, I castrated one of my men for getting handsy, then fed him to the dogs.

“Only after smelling all that blood did I finally sleep properly.”

“Disgusting.”

“I enjoy smelling blood and that’s disgusting?

“You motherfucker actually drink it!”

“When a handsome man does it, it’s flirting.

“When an ugly man does it, it’s harassment.”

“You bastard!

“That’s a personal attack!”

A’Ming took half a step back.

Bent at the waist.

Lowered one arm with exaggerated elegance.

Every movement carried impeccable ceremony.

“Until we meet again, my dear Third Master.”

Then he straightened.

Turned.

And walked away.

Xue San pointed at A’Ming’s back.

“I thought after putting on that whole damned act you’d turn into a bloody shadow and disappear.

“Turns out you still have to walk with your feet.”

A’Ming waved without turning around.

Xue San shifted sideways.

His entire body melted into shadow and advanced toward the encampment.

...

Inside the great tent, the Third Prince of Naiman sat reading late into the night while a beauty attended beside him.

There was no hidden implication in the scene.

He genuinely was reading.

The woman serving him wore a red dress. She had a fine face and exquisite ornaments.

Her surname was Wu.

She was called **Lady Wu**.

She had once been a daughter of a respectable Jin household, educated in books and etiquette.

Her husband had served as a county magistrate.

When the savages entered the passes, the magistrate defended his city.

The city fell.

He died.

Lady Wu was taken as a slave.

After being transported onto the snowfields, she was bought by the Third Prince of Naiman for fifty sheep and became his concubine.

The Third Prince possessed a mild temperament.

Unlike most savages, he loved poetry and books.

In the words of the Naiman chieftain—his own father even he had no idea how he managed to sire something like this.

If several features of the Third Prince’s face had not so obviously resembled his father’s, the Naiman King might genuinely have suspected some scholar had once placed a green hat on his head.

The Third Prince did not read merely to pretend at refinement.

He could compose poetry himself.

And he was quite good.

When the Savage King first rose to prominence, he once praised the Third Prince as the **Wenqu Star of the snowfields**, a man born with the makings of a Chancellor.

Part of that was genuine praise.

Part was recruitment.

But the Naiman Tribe chose to wait and watch.

They never placed their bet.

The Third Prince had tried repeatedly to persuade his father to send troops and aid the Savage King.

Every attempt failed.

Later, when the Savage King was defeated and almost the entire savage force that entered the passes was destroyed in Jin territory, the Naiman King even mocked this son for lacking judgment.

The Third Prince’s brothers and the elders of the tribe all praised the Naiman King for his farsightedness.

Afterward, the Naiman Tribe swallowed the Anyang Tribe.

The Third Prince was sent here by his father to manage the Anyang pastures.

The Anyang lands lay far too close to the Naiman heartland.

A prince who was truly valued would have been given pastures far from home, with enough room to develop his own followers and expand his strength.

The Third Prince, by contrast, had effectively been kept beneath the Naiman King’s nose and told to “herd livestock.”

“Your Highness, would you like some soup?”

“I’m not hungry.

“And I’ve told you before.

“Don’t call me Your Highness.

“Just use my name.”

Originally, there had been only one Savage King on the snowfields.

The Third Prince’s father had merely been chieftain of the Naiman Tribe.

Later, an imperial prince of Yan came to the snowfields carrying a decree and enfeoffed his father as a king.

Just like that his father became the Naiman King.

And the sons became “princes.”

His father had been delighted.

He held banquets for three full days.

The Third Prince had not been happy at all.

The Yan had paid nothing of value.

The Naiman Tribe and the other snowfield tribes received neither a sheep, nor a horse, nor a slave.

Yet they simply stood by and watched Snow Sea Pass fall into Yan hands.

And later, because of Snow Sea Pass, the Savage King’s main army was trapped south of the pass, unable to return to the snowfields, and annihilated by Yan forces.

“Your Highness’s status is noble.

“This concubine would not dare overstep.”

“Heh.

“Don’t say things like that.

“I’m only a savage from the snowfields.”

The Third Prince put down his book.

He shook his head.

Then called in one of the attendants waiting outside.

The man entered and knelt.

The Third Prince asked:

“Have the envoys from the **Gemen Tribe** and the others arrived?”

“Third Prince, they have.

“They passed through here before nightfall.

“By now they should already have reached the royal encampment.”

“Mm.

“I understand.

“You may go.”

“Yes, Prince.”

“Haaah.”

The Third Prince sighed.

Lady Wu asked:

“Your Highness, the envoys from those tribes have already arrived.

“Why are you still sighing?”

“They are only envoys.

“What use is that?

“That Yan Count Pingye at Snow Sea Pass has already announced to the whole snowfield that he intends to attack the Naiman Tribe.

“If we cannot gather our own warriors and the troops of our allied tribes as quickly as possible— how are we supposed to resist Yan cavalry?”

At this point, the Third Prince rubbed his forehead.

He sighed again.

“And yet after Father received the news, instead of making a decisive choice and offering pasture and livestock to the Gemen Tribe and the others in exchange for immediate military support— he is still dreaming of uniting many tribes to pressure the Yan together.

“He hopes the dispute can be resolved without fighting.

“Father truly is...”

The Third Prince stopped himself.

Having admired the culture of the Xia realms since childhood, he understood the principle that a son should not speak publicly of his father’s faults.

“Your Highness, will the Yan truly attack this quickly?”

“The Yan have always acted with thunderous speed.

“As for that Count Pingye at Snow Sea Pass— look at his record.

“He dared lead an isolated force deep behind enemy lines and launch a surprise attack on Snow Sea Pass.

“And he is young.

“A man like that either does nothing— or once he acts, he acts cleanly and decisively.

“He will never be satisfied with mere words.

“The only question is that Snow Sea Pass should be desperately short of troops right now.

“If Father had gathered allied forces early enough, there might still have been room to change the outcome.

“But if the worst happens...”

The Third Prince looked at Lady Wu.

He reached out and held her hand.

“Then you will be able to go home.”

“Your Highness, this concubine would never dare think such a thing.

“This concubine only wants to remain beside Your Highness and serve you.”

“The wind of the snowfields will crease your face.

“The cold of the snowfields will age your voice.

“Jin is the land where people truly flourish.

“I told you long ago— if you ever wanted to return, I would allow it.

“I was not speaking in anger.

“Nor was it false generosity.

“I meant it sincerely.”

“Your Highness, this concubine no longer has a home.

“Even if I returned to Jin, where would I go?”

Hearing that, the Third Prince sighed.

“Home still exists there.

“Otherwise, why do the Jin slaves inside our tribe keep trying to escape toward Snow Sea Pass?

“Haaah.

“In the end, this disaster began because my eldest brother acted too arrogantly.

“If you pursue runaway slaves, then pursue them.

“But after catching them, he actually killed the whole group and stacked the bodies into a corpse mound.

“The Yan have won battle after battle for years.

“They broke Qian.

“Swallowed Jin.

“Killed Chu soldiers.

“Drove our Holy Race back onto the snowfields.

“And that young Yan Count— how could he possibly swallow such humiliation?

“Truthfully, the greater failure is mine.

“I was useless.

“If I had truly possessed the ability to act, then back when the King first raised his banner—even if Father refused to support him—I should have led loyal followers, killed Father and several of my brothers first, then asked the King to send troops and help me seize control of the Naiman Tribe.”

A flash of killing intent appeared in the Third Prince’s eyes.

Lady Wu immediately said:

“Your Highness, if you had gone, perhaps... perhaps you would have...”

“You’re afraid I would have died south of Snow Sea Pass?”

The Third Prince laughed.

“In truth— it was only a question of losing sooner or losing later.

“Do not be fooled by how prosperous the Naiman Tribe looks now.

“We have merely postponed defeat for a little while.

“In my view, the only reasons the Yan did not immediately continue north and invade the snowfields were, first, because they needed time to recover— and second, because they had to guard against Chu.

“But once the Yan are ready, they will certainly send troops north.

“Count Pingye...

“Count Pingye...

“The Emperor of Yan granted the Chief Commander of Snow Sea Pass that noble title.

“The intention is already obvious.

“And now...”

The Third Prince lowered his voice.

“If I truly had the courage and ability to act—

I should have contacted Count Pingye before my eldest brother caused this disaster.

“I should have begged him to help me rebel against Father and seize control of the tribe.

“If I had done that, then yes— the Naiman Tribe would have become a dog chained beneath that Count’s hand.

“But a living dog is still better than a dead one.”

“Your Highness, the things you’re saying tonight...”

“Do you know one thing I’ve understood more clearly the more books I read?”

“This concubine does not know.”

“Heh.

“It is that scholars are useless in a hundred pursuits.”

Lady Wu did not dare respond.

The Third Prince slammed one hand heavily onto the table.

This savage prince whose face carried the air of a scholar now had red-rimmed eyes.

He spoke one word at a time.

“But our Holy Race— once truly had a chance to win!”

...

Ever since Master beat him, Xue San’s mood had been terrible.

Not merely bad.

Terrible.

For the past few days, he had been reflecting constantly.

He was so intelligent.

So adorable.

So handsome and elegant.

How had he possibly made such a low-level mistake?

He could not understand it.

The more he failed to understand, the angrier he became.

So when he drove his dagger into the throat of a Naiman soldier, he deliberately pushed it several centimeters deeper than necessary and twisted it.

For an assassin, this was a major taboo.

It could create additional noise.

It could spray more blood.

But Xue San felt some of the depression in his heart dissipate.

So when he crept up beside the next Naiman soldier he once again plunged his dagger viciously into the man’s chest.

Huu...

Much better.

He tossed the two bodies aside.

Then looked toward the two soldiers above him, both apparently dozing inside the tower.

Xue San climbed upward with astonishing speed.

The two men were indeed sleeping.

Back to back.

Deep asleep.

One was even snoring.

This displeased Xue San.

*Your Third Master worked so damned hard sneaking over here to kill you and remove these sentries.*

*And this is how you treat my effort?*

*I know night watch is exhausting.*

*But could you at least show some respect for my labor?*

So Xue San reached out and woke them.

The moment both men opened their eyes two daggers drove precisely into their throats.

They struggled.

Their eyes bulged as they stared at Xue San in terror.

But neither could make a sound.

Xue San simply stared back.

He enjoyed the eye contact.

He kept watching until both men stopped breathing.

“Huu...”

Comfortable.

Xue San pulled out his daggers and stood.

His steps felt faintly light.

His body swayed slightly.

He lifted his head.

Looked at the clear, bright night sky over the snowfields.

This was the life he wanted.

Third Master Xue almost felt like breaking into song.

Unfortunately, now was not the time.

He descended from the tower.

Then infiltrated toward the other one.

With quick, practiced movements, he eliminated the two Naiman soldiers below.

Then climbed.

This time, Third Master Xue was somewhat more satisfied.

The two Naiman soldiers above were awake.

Their vigilance was still poor, however.

One leaned against the railing, apparently thinking about some girl inside a distant tent.

The other sat on the tower floor weaving a flower wreath.

A very melancholy composition.

Under a sky like this, it really needed a soft violin soundtrack to complete the atmosphere.

Third Master Xue almost felt reluctant to disturb the scene.

So he quietly hung from the edge of the tower.

Together with the two men—“three drinking companions beneath the moon” he enjoyed the artistic mood.

Nobody knew exactly how long passed.

Xue San’s efficiency had been so high that he still had plenty of time before the agreed deadline.

Eventually, however, the soldier weaving the flower wreath stood and called down toward the men below.

He was probably checking in with his comrades.

And so the peaceful mood ended.

Much like how a person could choose to immerse himself in tranquility for a short while but sooner or later still had to lift his head and face reality.

A concealed crossbow aimed at the soldier holding the wreath.

It fired.

At the same instant, Xue San’s body flashed across the tower and his dagger entered the throat of the soldier staring into the distance.

Both men died quickly.

Cleanly.

Xue San sat down in silence.

Now there were still three of them.

But somehow the feeling had changed.

Xue San stood again.

He repositioned the soldier who had been gazing into the distance, arranging his body back into the same posture.

To hold him there, Xue San even used some of his extremely valuable silk thread.

Then he arranged the other corpse cross-legged on the floor and placed the half-finished wreath on the man’s knees.

Only after everything was complete did Xue San lean against the railing.

Slowly he closed his eyes.

Mm.

Now the mood was right again.

...

Unlike Xue San, who needed complete silence because he was operating close to the camp, A’Ming had much more freedom.

The mounted patrol he needed to eliminate was farther from the encampment.

There were eight riders.

They wandered aimlessly around the perimeter.

Technically they were patrolling.

But their laziness could be felt from a great distance.

Count Pingye, Chief Commander of Snow Sea Pass, had already publicly announced to every tribe on the snowfields that he intended to punish the Naiman Tribe.

And yet the Naiman men behaved as though they had not realized war had already arrived.

On one side, troops had been mobilized without hesitation. Newly arrived barbarian warriors had been thrown directly into action without even resting, and a detailed operational plan had already been prepared.

On the other the Naiman people still seemed to be leisurely enjoying one of the few beautiful seasons the snowfields possessed each year.

Whether that came from carelessness or overwhelming confidence—

A’Ming liked the posture of those eight Naiman scouts very much.

So he did not bother sneaking toward them.

He simply stood on the road they were about to pass.

Motionless.

The mounted patrol approached.

By moonlight, the lead rider quickly noticed the figure standing ahead.

Lazy though they were, they at least remembered why they were wandering around outside instead of sleeping.

Two Naiman riders immediately raised their bows.

Without hesitation they fired at A’Ming.

*Pfft!*

One arrow missed.

The other struck A’Ming in the chest.

Then, A’Ming collapsed.

The eight scouts rode over and surrounded the body.

One of them possessed an excellent habit.

Even though A’Ming had already taken an arrow and lay utterly motionless on the ground, the man still drew his bow and fired another shot into him.

If Count Zheng had been present, he would definitely have praised such a proper finishing blow.

*Pfft!*

The arrow struck A’Ming in the abdomen.

A’Ming still did not move.

His clothing did not resemble that of a slave, however.

So the patrol leader gestured for one subordinate to dismount, lift the “corpse,” and place it across a saddle.

They intended to bring him back to the camp and inspect him carefully.

The patrol began returning.

If this were a game of Russian roulette the first lucky participant had already been chosen.

By pure coincidence he rode at the very rear of the formation.

The lucky Naiman rider suddenly felt a gust of wind behind him.

Then something seemed to nip his neck.

What did it feel like to be bitten by a vampire?

If the vampire was low-ranked, the bite hurt.

No different from being bitten by a dog.

But high-ranking vampires were different.

At that level, they had begun appreciating the atmosphere of dining.

They understood how to show respect to their food.

So when A’Ming’s fangs pierced the Naiman soldier’s neck, the man did not scream.

Instead, intoxication spread across his face.

He seemed to be enjoying the sensation.

It itched.

It tingled.

It was comfortable.

Like dreaming that you were flying through clouds.

And in that state his life ended.

A’Ming immediately leaped forward onto the horse of the next rider.

His fangs entered another neck.

Then, he repeated the same method.

A’Ming’s body was light as a ghost.

His movements were impossibly smooth.

He eliminated five Naiman riders this way without being discovered.

If the leader had not happened to turn around to say something and noticed that all the men behind him were suddenly slumped over their horses—

A’Ming might genuinely have returned every one of them to the embrace of the stars in perfect silence.

Still being discovered was hardly a problem.

A’Ming launched forward.

He landed behind another rider.

His fangs sank in.

Unfortunately, this man was no longer one of the lucky ones.

He did not receive the pleasant spiritual spa his comrades had enjoyed in their final moments.

A’Ming jerked his neck sharply.

The man’s throat tore open.

Only two of the eight scouts remained alive.

The leader drew his saber.

Faced with this horrifying scene, he did not flee.

Instead he charged A’Ming directly.

A’Ming leaped forward to meet him.

*Pfft!*

The saber entered A’Ming’s chest almost without resistance.

But A’Ming’s momentum carried him forward along the blade until he arrived directly in front of the patrol leader.

The man could even feel through the hilt that the hand gripping his saber had nearly entered A’Ming’s body.

There was no warmth.

Only cold.

Freezing cold.

*Hum!*

Light erupted from the leader’s body.

Clearly, he was a Martial Artist.

What grade?

A’Ming did not know.

Nor did he need to know.

In a real fight, absolute strength mattered.

But countless external factors could still alter the outcome.

For example, by the time the man’s body began shining all ten of A’Ming’s fingernails had already entered his chest.

*Crack!*

A’Ming twisted his hands.

The other man’s body spasmed.

Blood leaked from the corner of his mouth.

His life ended immediately.

The only remaining survivor lacked his leader’s courage.

This was the same Naiman rider who had possessed the excellent habit of delivering finishing shots earlier.

And precisely because he had personally “finished” A’Ming, he had been completely certain the man was dead.

Now that corpse had risen again and slaughtered his commander and comrades.

The sight shattered his courage.

*Run.*

*Run!*

*I have to run!*

*That’s a demon!*

*A demon!*

A’Ming did not chase.

Instead, he silently took the bow hanging from the dead patrol leader’s saddle.

He nocked an arrow.

Drew.

Aimed.

The entire sequence flowed without pause.

Master had frequently used A’Ming as a target while practicing archery in the past.

Naturally, A’Ming had long since become very familiar with the art himself.

The Blood Clan’s extraordinary perception flowed into the arrow.

Even the speed of the wind entered his calculations.

*Hum!*

The arrow flew.

It pierced directly through the final survivor’s neck.

The man fell from his horse.

A’Ming wiped blood from the corner of his mouth.

Then he pulled the saber still buried in his abdomen free and casually tossed it aside.

His wounds were already healing at a speed visible to the naked eye.

If someone stood close enough, he could even hear faint crisp sounds and the subtle writhing of flesh knitting itself together.

Like a torn sweater whose damaged threads had been pulled loose and were now being woven again.

A’Ming took a small bottle from inside his clothes.

He removed the stopper.

Inside was black blood.

Yes.

Xue San was not the only Demon King who experimented with blood.

Whenever the Demon Kings had little else to do, they often requested blood samples from one another for research.

In the past, finding so many unusual bloodlines would have been difficult.

But Master happened to possess an abundance of raw materials around him now.

Borrowing them was convenient.

Today I borrow a few hundred milliliters from you.

Tomorrow I return a few hundred milliliters.

Borrow properly.

Repay properly.

Then borrowing again was easy.

The blood inside this bottle belonged to the Pixiu.

Yes.

Exactly.

The Pixiu Count Zheng rode.

When A’Ming had approached the beast with his fangs exposed, the Pixiu could only lie there looking terribly aggrieved and quietly allow him to take some blood.

To prevent Master from discovering that his beloved mount had been artificially bled—

A’Ming deliberately chose the Pixiu’s belly as the extraction point.

Then, when the Pixiu obediently rolled onto its side for him—

A’Ming discovered the beast’s belly already contained several little wounds.

That proved a whole group of bastards had arrived before him!

Now, while his own wounds were still regenerating, A’Ming poured the Pixiu blood into his mouth.

The power of the Blood Clan came from blood.

The hierarchy of the Blood Clan—the division of grades and strength—was fundamentally a hierarchy of bloodlines, determined by the level of power contained within the blood itself.

A truly powerful member of the Blood Clan could rebuild his entire body from a single surviving drop of blood.

So A’Ming wanted to test something.

If he could not increase his grade could he perhaps find another path and expand his power horizontally instead?

Then—

“Hiss...”

The wound in his abdomen, which had been steadily healing, suddenly became chaotic.

The knitting that had been proceeding smoothly seemed to lose all order.

Threads tangled into knots.

The pain was beyond anything ordinary torture could describe.

A’Ming wrapped both arms desperately around the warhorse beneath him.

Affected by his aura, the horse became exceptionally obedient and did not dare struggle.

A long time passed.

Finally, A’Ming raised a pale face.

He touched his abdomen.

The wound still had not fully healed.

Worse his earlier experiment had left his body strangely hollow.

“Is this what the Blind Man keeps calling the bond?

“The bond between us and Master?”

Whether vertically or horizontally there was simply no way to strengthen themselves through any channel other than Master.

A’Ming opened his mouth.

A few mocking laughs escaped him.

“Heh...

“In the end—

I still have to go back and keep licking Master.”

“What?

“You were hoping to overturn Heaven or something?”

Xue San’s voice came from beside him.

A moment later, he emerged from the shadows with an expression of disgust.

“I swear, do all vampires love showing off this much?

“You can’t fight anyone without deliberately getting yourself wounded just so you can demonstrate how good your regeneration is?”

Then, Xue San’s nose twitched.

He smelled something familiar.

Immediately he shouted:

“Holy shit!

“That’s Pixiu blood!

“You actually dared secretly bleed Master’s precious mount!”

“Heh.”

A’Ming could not be bothered answering.

Because he did not believe for one second that Xue San had never done the same.

“Well, if you want to run experiments, how about I build a little laboratory and we conduct them properly together?

“Doing this by yourself makes it far too easy to cripple yourself.

“It’s unsafe.”

“If I let you handle it, I’m afraid there won’t be enough of me left to cripple.”

“Listen to that.

“Listen to how ugly those words sound.

“Haaah.”

Xue San stopped bickering.

He looked toward the other side.

More than a hundred black shadows were already moving through the route he and A’Ming had cleared.

They began infiltrating the savage encampment.

Under cover of darkness the scythe of death had been raised high.

“Truthfully, there is one method that’s both the simplest and the most practical.

“Just two words.”

Xue San jumped and slapped A’Ming on the shoulder.

Then he continued:

“Know which two?”

Xue San pursed his lips.

Spat onto the ground.

Then answered his own question.

“Accept fate.”

————

Good night, everyone.

[End of Chapter 383]