Chapter Three: The Light of Hope

Chu Feng let out a cold laugh, his voice steady as he said, "It seems you are nothing more than a petty clown after all."

"What did you say!" Qin Hao shouted angrily.

"Nothing, just wanted you to know—not everyone fears death. With what you’ve done today, taking your life would not be excessive. But I am merciful; for old acquaintance’s sake, I’ll send you on your way." As soon as Chu Feng finished speaking, his figure flickered, and in the next instant, Qin Hao was seized in his grasp as effortlessly as picking up a chick.

Qin Hao’s attendants rushed forward, but Chu Feng laid them low with two swift punches.

He struck repeatedly, and Qin Hao’s face twisted in agony. Amid his screams, there was the sound of snapping bones, and soon all four of his limbs were broken.

Though Chu Feng hated Qin Hao, he could not bring himself to kill. He tossed the howling Qin Hao to the city gates as if throwing a stone, then turned and left without another word.

Meanwhile, within the City Lord’s Manor, an elder clad in silver armor stood before the main hall. He gazed up at the barrier overhead, sorrow etched across his face as he sighed, "I wonder how much longer it can hold? Pity the people of this city..."

A young soldier appeared, approaching the elder respectfully. "Lord, the warships are nearly full. We are prepared to depart at any moment!"

The Lord of Gulin City nodded slightly and waved his hand, "Good. Go now, quickly."

The soldier hesitated, asking, "Lord, what about you?"

The City Lord replied, "I am the Lord of Gulin City—how could I abandon my people? Go. That is an order!" Though his voice was calm, it carried an undeniable authority.

"Yes, sir!" The soldier bowed deeply, tears streaming as he bid farewell, then turned and left.

With hands clasped behind his back, the City Lord stared into the sky, lost in thought. In truth, he still found it hard to believe that the beast horde had breached the frontier. The front lines held seventy percent of humanity’s forces, watched over by peerless masters, and yet the beasts had arrived without warning, precisely when Gulin City’s garrison was thinnest. Too convenient, he thought.

It seemed the beasts’ true target was Gulin City, but what could they want with an ordinary town? He could not fathom it. He sent his doubts into the ether with spiritual arts, hoping to provide clues for future investigations.

Soon, warships by the east gate roared to life and soared skyward, plunging the city’s inhabitants deeper into despair.

Yet few resigned themselves quietly to death. Though the beasts could easily scent humans, many still hid themselves; the bold fortified their courage with strong drink, gripping their blades, determined to make a final stand.

The barrier now cut off the outside world; no longer did snowstorm rage within the city. As the beasts drew near, the streets fell eerily silent.

People clung to hope, wishing the rumors were wrong—but was that possible? No sooner had the warships departed, than smoke and dust rose from the western outskirts, the earth rumbling as buildings trembled.

They knew—the beasts had come.

Many climbed the walls, and at a glance, their expressions changed utterly, chills running down their spines, some collapsing with weak knees.

Before them, a vast, dark mass approached—towering monsters, each one colossal. Mountains crumbled, forests turned to ash wherever they passed, a spectacle of terror.

Then the barrier shuddered, booming loudly; shadowy forms swept across the sky—winged beast monsters attacking the shield. Some resembled hawks, others bats, their colors varied, wings beating the air as they soared, from several yards to dozens in size. Though they had no spiritual forms, they could spew fire and lightning.

The beast race was not of the same origin as ordinary fauna; their bodies were similar, hence the name ‘beast monsters’.

Before long, the ground army of the beast race drew near—no fewer than fifty thousand strong: tigers, panthers, wolves, bears, elephants, jackals, each one ferocious and hideous, encircling Gulin City. Water, fire, wind, and lightning erupted in a frenzy, battering the barrier. Some beasts even chased in other directions, determined not to let any escape.

"Beasts! I’ll fight you to the death!" Suddenly, a hoarse yet commanding voice echoed across heaven and earth. The Lord of Gulin City, sword in hand, clad in silver armor, the glow of his spiritual form blazing atop his head, leapt forth and charged out of the barrier. With a sweep of his sword, several hawk monsters fell, blood raining down.

He landed and plunged straight into the beast horde.

"Do you think my beast race has no one?" A cold snort rang out from the skies. Upon the back of a giant roc stood two figures—not humans, but beasts in human guise.

One leapt down, intercepting the City Lord, completely overpowering him, sneering, "All of you will become the beast race’s blood food!"

The beasts dared to attack only after full preparation; the City Lord knew things were grim, but could only fight to the death.

Many in Gulin City seized upon this as a lifeline, thrilled—they recognized their Lord’s voice. He had not abandoned them.

The beasts battered the shield; it trembled but showed no signs of breaking. Some witnesses began to think perhaps things weren’t as dire as feared, maybe they could hold out for reinforcements.

But before they could even hope, a colossal ice sword cleaved down from the heavens. With a deafening crash, the barrier shattered instantly—so swiftly, the work of the second beast figure.

"No!" Outside the city, the Lord of Gulin cried in despair. The outcome was sealed, but he could not resign himself.

The city had fallen. All that remained was slaughter; the people would have no power to resist.

The city walls crumbled, beasts poured in like a flood, destroying everything in their path—no one survived. The city was reduced to ruins, screams echoing everywhere.

One by one, living souls were found, torn apart, devoured—blood splashed everywhere, staining the thick white snow red.

At the city’s center stood an armory, once used for storing warships and weapons, and housing and training the soldiers. Having left the east gate, Chu Feng arrived here immediately.

The soldiers had departed in haste, taking only essential equipment, leaving behind a wealth of arms.

Many had taken refuge here, most hiding in the underground arsenal. Chu Feng, gifted with exceptional strength, set up ambushes using large bows and crossbows.

Unable to transform spiritually, he could not unleash the weapons’ true power, knowing it was folly to hope for defense against the beasts. Yet, if he could make them suffer, it would be better than nothing.

He smeared himself with mud to mask his scent, hiding within a mound of snow, with a pile of rubble at his back.

An unprecedented sorrow filled his heart as he listened to the screams coming from every direction, feeling as though his heart bled. This was the place where he grew up, where many kind souls had helped him; after today, all would be gone forever.

Once the beasts reached this place, it meant the tens of thousands remaining in the city were nearly all lost.

Suddenly, with a roar, a house by the pond was overturned, revealing a monkey beast taller than the building itself—hideous, eyes blood-red, murderous, its mouth still stained with the blood of its human victims.

The monkey beast tore apart the house, then clawed at the ground, and cries of alarm rang out—the underground arsenal had been discovered.

It reached in with its massive hand, seized several people, and shoved them straight into its mouth. With the sound of bones crunching and blood spraying, the scene was unspeakably brutal.

Those remaining in the underground arsenal were petrified, their faces ashen, unable to move a muscle.

The monkey beast threw back its head and howled, seemingly unsated. It snatched up several more, clenched its fist, instantly killing them—crushing their heads until blood streamed, then stomped down, silencing the arsenal with another round of screams.

From his hiding place, Chu Feng watched through a hole in the snow, hatred burning so fiercely his eyes reddened. Before the beasts, human life was so cheap—he longed to rush out and fight to the death.

A series of crashes echoed around him as more beasts entered. With several sharp cries, some beasts stumbled into Chu Feng’s traps, but none were fatally wounded.

The beasts grew even more frenzied, rooting out every hiding place—no one escaped.

Suddenly, a wolf beast swung its claws, sending a blade of wind straight at Chu Feng in the snow.

He hadn’t seen the attack, but heard its approach and knew he’d been discovered. Instantly, he leapt up, spear in hand, narrowly dodging the assault.

Before he could land, a bear beast struck from the side, knocking Chu Feng aside.

The beast race’s bodies were far stronger than humans, but Chu Feng’s physique was also extraordinary. Even after the blow, he was not fatally wounded, though pain wracked his body and blood spurted from his mouth.

The bear beast swept away the rubble, uncovering a well.

Chu Feng was alarmed; he had hidden three unattended children in the well, covering them with mud and stones, hoping they might survive. He never expected they would still be found.

Indeed, the mud disguise had masked their human scent to some extent. Now, only Chu Feng and those three remained alive in Gulin City. But mud could fool one or two beasts, not so many.

The bear beast opened its mouth and inhaled, pulling one child up with a gust.

"Ah!" Chu Feng roared, his eyes nearly bursting, spear in hand as he charged desperately. But before he could reach the child, the beast snapped it in its jaws.

"Monster! I’ll kill you!" Chu Feng shouted in fury, thrusting his spear at the bear beast.

His strength was such that, against a single beast, he might have had a chance. But now, with beasts everywhere, there was no hope.

A wolf beast lunged, jaws wide, biting Chu Feng.

He reacted swiftly, bracing the wolf’s jaws apart. For the moment, the wolf could not crush him.

Meanwhile, the bear beast sucked up the other two children. Chu Feng was powerless to stop it.

The wolf’s strength eventually surpassed Chu Feng’s; his body trembled, barely holding on. If his strength faltered, he would be torn apart.

Chu Feng’s heart was in agony, grief and rage overwhelming him. Even though his fate was sealed, how could he bear to watch the children die?

"No!" he shouted, but the bear beast bit down mercilessly, blood spraying.

"Monster!" Chu Feng’s fury reached its peak, wild as a beast himself. His roar shook the void, and the black sword hanging at his chest suddenly sang, erupting in flames. Before he could even see the fire clearly, he lost consciousness, faintly glimpsing a glimmer of hope before darkness closed in.