When the female guards entered the city, Stink Nestâs will broke completely.
The disparity was too vastâin levels, skills, and equipment. Ten-to-one numbers meant nothing when only two or three could simultaneously engage Cloud Peakâs elites.
Methodically, they began the slaughter. No hurry. No escape. The icebirds and the undead Red Hair had sealed every exit.
"âŠIsnât this too extreme?"
One of Old Manâs squad whispered it. His teammates paled.
Theyâd seen their compatriotsâ brutality firsthand. Earlier, theyâd questioned the necessity. Now, witnessing an eight-star dragon, two eight-star icebirds, a nightmarish undead beast, and an eight-star war hound, they understood: Stink Nest was doomed.
With only Ivan as their sole eight-star evolved, nothing could stop Cloud Peak.
No wonder they declared slaughter so casually. Even without lifting a finger, their tamed monsters alone could turn this place into a graveyard.
Now, Old Manâs team wondered: Were these ruthless allies a blessing⊠or a future threat?
If they offended them, what if he killed them?
Ye Zhongming, standing nearby, showed no anger at the whispered doubt. He simply gazed at the corpses on the walls and said softly:
"If I were weak, they would have slaughtered us instead."
Silence.
This was the apocalypse. The law of the jungle, stripped bare.
Weakness wasnât misfortuneâit was sin.
Right and wrong didnât enter into it.
The battle ended in an hour. A speed that left Old Manâs squad dumbfounded.
Killing ten thousand should take longerâuntil they remembered Yangosâs breath incinerating hundreds in seconds.
Looting took far longer. By dawn, every valuable item in Stink Nest lay piled outside.
Casualties? None for Cloud Peak. A handful of minor injuries. The resistance had been too feeble to matter.
The spoils:
100,000+ low-tier demon crystals (only 2,000+ at six-star or above, a pitiful seven at eight-star).
Equipmentâone intact gold-grade piece, thirty-some blue, two hundred green. (Cloud Peakâs forces wore all blue or better; the haul was laughable by their standards.)
Assorted materials, scrolls, potionsâa few impressed Ye Zhongming.
After claiming the best, Ye let Old Manâs squad pick ten items each from the leftovers.
"Waitâwe can take evolution potions too?"
Their eyes locked on the vials. Most six-star potions were gone, but plenty of five-star remained. For a team where only a few were five-star evolved (the rest stuck at four), this was a windfall.
At Yeâs nod, they dove into the trove like starved men at a feast. Even Old Man, usually composed, joined the frenzy.
Smiling slightly, Ye left them to it and entered his tent. Inside, Ivan lay curled on the ground.
The former warlord had tried to flee yesterday. Yellow Ball caught him in under a minute.
"Made your decision?" Ye asked.
Ivan glanced up, then away. Silent, as heâd been since capture.
"I know you understand Mandarin."
Ye had noticed Ivanâs reaction during the slaughter orderâforeigners had been confused; Ivan had understood.
"Last chance. Tell me what I want, and you die clean. Refuse, and the pain will make you regret being born."
He sat, watching. "Ten seconds."
"âŠYouâll keep your word?" Ivanâs accent was thick but intelligible.
"Belief is your concern, not mine."
A bitter laugh. Then, haltingly, Ivan spoke:
"Yakutsk is the largest nearby city. Recently, a beast tide hit. Wiped out a major factionâs branch. Their main force sent an expedition, allied with locals, and is still fighting the mutated creatures there."
He detailed Yakutskâs factions, nearby powers, and rumors, including the attacking organizationâs name and strength.
But nothing about the black-clad zombie woman.
Ye tried again: "Ever hear of a female mutated zombie carrying a black cat?"
Ivan frowned. "No zombie. But⊠one of the beast tide leaders was an eight-star mutated black cat."
Yeâs eyebrow twitched. He fired off more questionsâsome about Yakutsk, some randomâoccasionally repeating earlier ones to check consistency. Satisfied Ivan wasnât lying (the man clearly hoped for mercy), he turned to leave.
At the tent flap, Ivan suddenly called out:
"IâI could join you. Serve loyally."
Ye paused. Then, without turning, he gave Ivan the last words heâd ever hear:
"Thank you."