Chapter 94: A Village, One Person

At the northern edge of South Ridge County stood the official residence.

Deep within it was a great hall.

A cool breeze drifted through, the doors on the east, south, and west all thrown open, their six leaves wide apart.

Three constables in fish-dragon uniforms knelt beneath the hall, scarcely daring to breathe.

The man seated above them could not be seen clearly; only the casual rustle of papers in his hand revealed him as he spoke.

"Do you think the Nether Alliance has gone too far?"

Though the words carried a hint of inquiry, the three constables below knew perfectly well that he was not waiting for their answer.

"They are taking revenge. Blood debts are naturally paid in blood."

"Do you expect them to show mercy?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Only two kinds of people speak of mercy: the weak, because they lack the courage to take revenge; and the vile and cowardly, like that Left Chancellor, who goes about spreading this doctrine of mercy among the common folk. He harms others and fears their retaliation, so he dresses his deceit in the noble name of mercy."

"It is entirely unnecessary. The weak are weak in the end; what is there to fear? A single hand is enough to crush them."

As he spoke, he seemed to recall something and asked, "The person I had you look for last time. Have you found him yet?"

"We are... still searching with all our efforts."

The entire hall fell silent at once. After a moment, his voice sounded again.

"Tell the Nether Alliance to understand the rules and mind its limits. Otherwise, I do not mind teaching this band of wandering ghosts how to write the word 'rules.' And that person must be found for me, dead or alive."

"Yes!"

The great doors slammed shut with a boom, and the hall once again sank into boundless darkness.

...

Ning Xiu did not go to Ox Family Village. Instead, he turned and headed in the opposite direction.

South Ridge County was vast. With ghosts and monsters running rampant, where one killed them made no difference; there was no need to throw oneself into a place of danger.

A wise man does not stand beneath a wall that is about to fall. That was the principle.

Especially when one's own strength was still insufficient. Rushing in to clash head-on with them would be no different from striking a stone with an egg.

Ning Xiu was not arrogant or foolish enough to reach that point.

He traveled north all the way, and by the time he arrived at a village called Red Sun, night had already fallen.

There were very few people in the village, giving it a bleak and desolate air.

A point of lamplight burned in the darkness, and Ning Xiu followed the glow to a house.

"Knock, knock, knock."

He raised his right hand and tapped lightly on the door.

Creak.

The door opened, and an old man came out from inside.

"I am passing through your village, and night has already fallen. Might I trouble you for a night's lodging?"

The old man looked at Ning Xiu. After a moment of silence, he said, "Come in."

"Thank you for your kindness, sir."

Ning Xiu followed the old man into the house. It was clear the man lived in straitened circumstances.

The room was dilapidated, its walls blackened long ago. In the center stood a shabby table.

On it sat a chipped porcelain jug, a broken bowl, and a pile of leftover peanuts.

Ning Xiu glanced up at the old man before him. His aged face was etched with the marks of time, every wrinkle a record of hardship endured.

An oil lamp cast a dim yellow glow that wavered in the night breeze.

Just like the old man's remaining years.

"Have you eaten?" the old man asked.

"Hm?"

Ning Xiu paused, then quickly understood. "Not yet."

"I'll make you a bowl of noodles."

With that, the old man turned and went to the back kitchen. Before long, he came back carrying a steaming bowl of noodles.

The broth was thin and plain, with a single fresh green leaf floating on top.

Ning Xiu took it and thanked him, then asked, "Sir, it isn't very late yet. Why is there not a soul to be seen in the village? And why does no household even have its lamps lit?"

"In these times, the world is not peaceful. Not long ago, bandits suddenly raided the neighboring Zhang Family Village, and not a single soul was left alive."

The old man sighed.

"Everyone who could leave has already left. I am old enough that I have only a few years left anyway, so I may as well stay."

To the old man, this village where he had lived for most of his life was his root.

A root is not only a place to return to, but also a bond one willingly bears.

Ning Xiu sat there, eating his noodles while listening to the old man ramble on about his past.

"Tomorrow morning, you should hurry on to the county town too. They say only there is safe."

In the old man's eyes, Ning Xiu was simply another soul fleeing disaster.

After saying this, the old man turned and walked back into the house.

At that moment, a night breeze passed by.

Ning Xiu's figure suddenly vanished from the room.

But the old man did not turn around, so he never noticed.

...

Ning Xiu left because he had caught a familiar scent.

The moment he reached the village entrance, several black shadows drifted out of the darkness and surrounded him.

Ning Xiu glanced at them and shook his head, muttering, "Bad luck this time."

"Roar!"

These were only low-level wraiths, creatures surviving purely by instinct. Smelling the scent of human flesh, they howled and lunged at Ning Xiu.

What answered them were one iron fist after another.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

A series of dull thuds rang out, and those wraiths burst apart in midair, turning to dust.

With Ning Xiu's current strength, creatures of this sort were no different from money delivered to his door. However many came, however many he killed, they could not harm him in the slightest.

The only pity was that such creatures offered very limited rewards. Along the way, Ning Xiu had killed quite a few, yet he still had not gathered the 1,200 ingots needed to raise the ninth level of Golden Bell Shield. That left him deeply vexed.

He was only a few hundred ingots short, and yet they were so hard to collect.

On the other hand, his blood essence stones had soared in number; the count had already climbed to more than twenty thousand.

Since keeping them served little purpose, Ning Xiu used them all to open treasure chests.

At the very least, the highest he could still obtain was three-star quality items.

If the quality would not do, then he could only rely on quantity.

From the chests came a pile of one-star and two-star techniques. Among them, any manuals related to blades or swords were learned by Ning Xiu without hesitation. Things like the Four-Section Blade Art, the Mysterious Three-Element Blade, the Song Mountain Sword Art, the Chain-Kill Sword, and so on.

The rest were all broken down into fragments. What annoyed him was that he still had not pulled a single suitable light-footwork technique.

It seemed that if all else failed, he would have to exchange for one in the system black market.

In the end, after merging a pile of low-grade fragments, he finally managed to barely gather enough to star-upgrade the Holy Spirit Sword Art.

Ning Xiu opened the system skill interface and selected the star upgrade.

After finishing all of this, he looked back at the only light in the entire village and fell silent for a moment.

In the end, he still chose to leave.

He had nothing he could offer the old man.

Silver? The old man did not need it, and Ning Xiu could not remain here forever.

The old man had his own understanding of things.

One village, one man.