Chapter 17: High-Risk Experimental Subject  

He had come to end this war.  

The Patrollers and soldiers were momentarily stunned. “But the war… is almost over?”  

Even Jue looked up, his expression showing surprise.  

The black-haired, black-eyed young man before them had an overwhelming presence and spoke with such calm certainty that they couldn’t help but believe him—though doubts still lingered.  

Jing Rong simply smiled without responding and returned to the blacksmith’s house for dinner.  

The rough candleholder on the table flickered, casting light over his features. Jue sat across from him, head lowered, habitually passing the only slice of luncheon meat on the plate to Jing Rong.  

Jing Rong used his knife and fork to divide it, taking a smaller portion before naturally sliding the larger share back to Jue’s plate.  

Jue’s ears reddened slightly—a rare sight—but he didn’t insist further.  

Jing Rong didn’t notice his reaction and quickly finished his meal.  

Compared to the stew he had made in the snowstorm, this meal was practically pitiful: potatoes stored all winter, boiled into a tasteless soup; bread made from oats and leftover yeast, its texture like sawdust.  

Jue asked, “Brother, when do we set out again?”  

Jing Rong replied, “It might still be a while.”  

Jue fell silent, deep in thought.  

Over the past few days, their time spent resting had nearly matched their time traveling. At this rate, they might not reach their destination until spring.  

Jue set down his utensils. “Can we go faster, Brother?”  

He finally voiced the concern that had weighed on him for so long. “I might… not have much time left. I may not live to see Oakvilleke.”  

His movements froze stiffly, as if awaiting judgment.  

His entire life had been spent pushing himself to the limit—rushing from one place to another, exhausting everything he had, from his Mental Power to his body, sacrificing it all without hesitation.  

Jue couldn’t stop moving. Even now, though he had fallen for an Adjudicator, stopping still brought him pain.  

Jing Rong said, “That’s exactly what I wanted to discuss with you.”  

For the first time, the black-haired, black-eyed young man’s expression turned solemn. “What comes next requires both of us. If we act quickly, our progress will accelerate too.”  

Jue had expected Jing Rong to talk about life. Hesitating, he asked, “What do you mean?”  

Jing Rong unfolded the map he carried and pointed to their current location before tracing a line westward. “Those two wounded soldiers earlier—they retreated from the fifth northwestern front.”  

Jue leaned in, intrigued.  

Jing Rong continued, “The fifth front was supposed to be abandoned. The fact that they fought until now means two things: first, there are still strong guerrilla forces resisting them, and second—”  

He paused. Jue, sharp as ever, finished his thought: “There are still scattered Olke Empire soldiers who can’t find their way home. They’ll all retreat to this town. And the guerrillas will follow.”  

“The fighting won’t stop. Small-scale clashes will continue endlessly. Within ten years, once both sides recover, a full-scale war will erupt again. But the Olke Empire’s central command won’t care anymore.”  

Jue murmured, “I understand what you mean, Brother. But what can we do?”  

Jing Rong said, “Make these two forces meet—and then make them stop fighting. At the same time, we’ll secure a faster route west.”

Jue froze for a moment.

Jing Rong handed him the map, fingertips resting on the back of his hand, his eyes carrying a faint smile: “Trust me, this is something only you and I can do.”

*

The wind and snow howled as Jing Rong rode out of the town on a pitch-black horse.

“Brother.”

Jue called out to him from behind.

Jing Rong reined in his horse and turned, leaning down to listen.

Clad in a cape, Jue stepped forward and handed him a rough dagger. Though his expression remained composed, his voice trembled slightly from the biting wind: “This is a sword I forged using my Mental Power. Take it with you.”

Jing Rong had set out alone this time, leaving the map and supplies in the village.

Even though Jue had seen him single-handedly defeat an Adjudicator, his instincts as a leader compelled him to give the best he had to offer.

Jue’s fighting style always involved resonating Mental Power with matter, allowing him to forge anything within sight at will.

The sword in Jing Rong’s hand was crudely made, but due to the extreme heat used in its forging, it gleamed a brilliant silver-white, its steel exceptionally hard and razor-sharp.

“It’s a beautiful sword. I love it. Thank you.”

Jing Rong motioned for Jue to come closer, then pulled him in and kissed him on the cheek.

He didn’t scold Jue for repeatedly exhausting his own strength—he knew Jue’s heart was still unsettled, still aching.

He didn’t blame the pain.

Jue took a deep breath, but his face flushed red again, growing increasingly intense. The calm and collected leader struggled to maintain his composure: “See you later.”

“See you later.”

Jing Rong straightened up, adjusted his cape, and galloped away.

The grassland was already blanketed in heavy snow, visibility poor.

626 said, “What a cute sword.”

Jing Rong’s focus was oddly skewed: “Yes, he’s very cute.”

626: “Damn, you’re not even pretending to be humble, are you?”

Jing Rong chuckled, guiding his horse across a frozen river and heading in the direction he had determined.

626 asked, “Do you need me to activate the map? The retreating soldiers might be scattered.”

Jing Rong replied, “They won’t be too scattered. This river’s upstream is flowing water, and it runs through the western front. In this blizzard, anyone wanting to survive would follow the water. We’ll soon find traces of human activity.”

As expected, twenty minutes later, Jing Rong discovered a group of wounded Auerke soldiers in a cave by the water.

A gaunt, haggard-looking soldier sat at the entrance—clearly a sentry. At first, he didn’t even notice Jing Rong, but as he approached, the man’s eyes widened in disbelief and alarm.

“Black hair… You’re not one of the red-haired ones. Are you Auerke? Have you come to take us back to the capital?”

Jing Rong said, “I’m an explorer from the Geographical Society. The storm is too heavy—I’m here to guide you to a safe route. If you know where the others went, please tell me.”

“Really?”

The soldier’s voice was hoarse, tears streaming uncontrollably down his face. “We… we can finally go home. Those vicious Sin Island People… they killed so many of us…”

The men inside the cave were in poor condition—eight in total, four of whom were too injured to move.

Jing Rong performed basic first aid for the wounded soldiers and left them part of the supplies he’d brought: “Follow the black powder markings along my path back to camp. Travel light and leave all your weapons and equipment behind. I need them.”

His words were concise and direct. The wounded soldiers glanced at him, then without hesitation discarded their weapons on the spot.

A Sentinel informed him: “There are more retreating brothers to the east. Like us, they got lost in the blizzard. But be careful—there are two Sin Island guerrilla squads nearby, about twenty men total.”

Jing Rong asked: “How many retreated from the western front?”

The Sentinel replied: “One hundred forty, but we were scattered by guerrilla ambushes. Everyone’s in terrible condition.”

“What about the guerrilla situation?” Jing Rong inquired.

The Sentinel’s previously calm expression suddenly twisted with vicious anger: “Those Sin Island People are worse than animals. They kill without mercy—executing surrendering soldiers and prisoners alike. They want to occupy Jieke Town! We won’t let them succeed.”

Jing Rong said: “Understood.”

Those still able to move carried the wounded as they staggered away.

Standing in the cave, Jing Rong heard 626 ask: “What now?”

Jing Rong replied: “Both the western front soldiers and guerrillas are trying to wear each other down. The guerrillas are in more danger—they have no supply lines. Five more days in this snow and they’ll be wiped out.”

626 said: “They’ll definitely raid Jieke Town for supplies within days.”

“No, they won’t.”

Jing Rong’s mind flashed with Jue’s calm blue eyes. “I understand the Isle of Blazing Fire People. They’re fierce yet noble—they’ll fight to the last breath. This guerrilla squad’s final wish is just to free their enslaved brethren in Jieke Town.”

626 clicked his tongue: “First it was one troublesome lone wolf, now it’s a whole pack of troublesome wolves.”

“What to do.”

Jing Rong’s tone was light as he picked up guns from the ground. After inspection, he selected three functional ones and fired a shot into the sky.

Birds scattered in alarm as snow shook loose from the trees.

This shot would draw every wolf within four kilometers.

“If the wolf pack can’t survive, neither can my little wolf.”

*

There were thirty-three Ork soldiers and four Patroller squads stationed in town.

For Jue, taking them down would be effortless.

He sat relaxed atop the tallest watchtower, a cigarette between his fingers, snow dusting his molten-gold red hair.

Many villagers noticed the Patrollers’ condition and spotted him on the tower.

Red-haired villagers emerged in confusion, exchanging glances.

“I’m an Experiment who escaped from Ork’s enemy capital. My rating is SSS, codename Jue.”

At these words, everyone trembled.

“You’re alive!”

“We thought you’d died in that execution…”

This was a town of heroes, where everyone had sacrificed everything for their people’s future. Some wept openly.

They were people bound by Bloodline Linkage, recognizing only that red hair and those azure eyes.

The blacksmith emerged too, disbelief flashing in his eyes.

“I was saved by someone—an Auerke person—so to repay that debt, we must not harm the soldiers in this town or the wounded who are about to arrive.”  

Jue’s blue eyes were calm and clear. Just by standing there, he seemed to radiate light, naturally drawing people to follow and trust him. “After discussion, we’ve decided that the stored food, money, and medicine in the warehouse are ours to take as we please.”  

He was merely stating a simple principle and giving an order, yet not a single person before him questioned it.  

“The Auerke saved our leader—fine, we won’t kill his people!”  

“Is the leader talking about that dark-haired young man? He stood up for our people—we’ll give him that respect. We won’t kill anyone!”  

A chorus of agreement rose.  

This was a group of exceptionally straightforward and pure-hearted people.  

They were the drifting flames from the islands, born with fiery passion and kindness, unconditionally obeying the words of their alpha.  

“I’ll stay in town these next few days. These soldiers and Patrollers are now our prisoners, but I repeat: no harm is to come to them.”  

Jue clenched the cigarette between his teeth as he leaped from the watchtower to a lower rooftop, his voice steady and rough. “All able-bodied men, follow me to take stock of supplies. We’ll set up a shelter for the wounded at the town entrance. Women will form a medical team, organized by those with healing skills… Any children here?”  

From the corners, a group of grubby red-haired kids emerged.  

They were children born after the war, their eyes holding a familiar look—calm yet expectant, eager to contribute.  

A faint smile touched Jue’s eyes. “Our children will all go to battle, chop wood, and cook. You’ll be in charge of meals.”  

The children quickly nodded in understanding, their enthusiasm palpable.  

Jue exhaled softly, his breath forming a wisp of white mist that drifted upward, silent and cold.  

For the first time in days, he had completely removed his cape, revealing his true self.  

He hadn’t expected Jing Rong to propose such a solution.  

Even though that man had merely leaned in and whispered by his ear, “Jue, I hate what you hate.”  

Seeing his suffering, that man had come to sweep it all away.  

Even if that suffering was war.  

Without realizing it, his Mental Power was slowly recovering. The cracks that had once shattered were now like tiny flames being reignited, reviving steadily and irreversibly.  

The violent pounding of his heart had already revealed it—Jue’s love and hatred, his future and past, were all now in that man’s hands.