Chapter 152 The Cost of Loyalty (Part 1)
In Shalin City, the Colosseum.
Here, the strongest and most skilled slaves in fighting against tiger sharks are imprisoned. In Shalin City, the event where gladiators fight tiger sharks in shallow water ranks just below the city’s distinctive industry in terms of popularity among residents. The gladiators earn endless amounts of money for their masters.
Now, these brave and profitable gladiators are howling in the flames.
Zhang Boren strode out of a dim iron cell.
Behind him were the glowing iron bars and a group of charred corpses huddled together. He was fully armed, a dent in his chest plate, and his dark face looked a bit pale.
“Master, Master, please show mercy! I spent a great deal of money to buy them,” the owner, wearing a round hat, pleaded beside Zhang Boren. “They are usually very loyal; today they even willingly locked themselves with chains.”
“As long as it’s locked, it can be opened,” Zhang Boren pushed the owner aside and walked to the iron cell.
Inside, the gladiators were horrified by the resonating screams and the smell of burnt flesh. They were all bound by chains, making it difficult to move, even to stand up, but they desperately knelt on the ground, banging their foreheads against the floor.
“Master, spare us!”
“We can be loyal to you.”
“If you are to kill us, please do so with a sword.”
These strong warriors had lost all dignity at this moment.
Zhang Boren raised his flaming red sword, pointing it at the kneeling gladiators in the cell, his single eye devoid of any emotion, said:
“The Great Benefactor has ordered that there must be no mistakes in the upcoming rescue plan for Shalin City.”
He had already made enough mistakes, and the Great Benefactor began to doubt his abilities, even specifically instructing him to burn the prisoners with flames through the cell, fearing he might let the gladiators go.
He could not afford to make any mistakes.
“Farewell, you wretched slaves.” The flames on the red sword in his hand suddenly erupted, shooting out a rolling fireball that passed through the cell, expanding violently. The flames, thick like oil, touched the skin, igniting and burning, continuously burning, turning the chains bright red.
Bound by chains, the gladiators straightened their backs, rolling on the ground as the fire burned through their skin and muscle, searing into their bones, causing their piercing screams. Zhang Boren’s single eye reflected the gladiators being scorched until their charred bodies lay still before he walked away.
This was the last iron cell.
Zhang Boren waved away the smell of charred flesh in disgust and exited the hot iron cell.
As soon as he stepped outside, a messenger on horseback jumped off and hurried over to Zhang Boren, kneeling partway down as he shouted:
“Reporting! The Great Benefactor has received new intelligence. There may be trouble in the military camp’s safe zone. You are ordered to rush over immediately.”
Zhang Boren’s expression grew serious.
The military camp’s safe zone housed thousands of citizens. The Great Benefactor indicated that this was the second most important place in Shalin City, capable of absorbing pressure from the noble area and depleting the living power and anger of the slaves. The rebellious slaves must not be allowed to easily take that location.
He immediately stepped into the stirrups, mounted his steed, feeling a bit dizzy, and couldn’t help but hold his forehead. The earlier careful handling of the slaves had consumed too much of his magical power. Zhang Boren bit his tongue, overcoming the dizziness, and with the protection of over thirty elite soldiers, galloped towards the military camp’s safe zone.
…
…
On the other side.
The grizzled veteran with a gray-white mustache and his comrades, leading over four hundred citizens, walked to the bridgehead and entered the military camp’s safe zone.
Inside it was noisy. Compared to the White Sand District, it was much more cramped, with people squashed into dark corners like cockroaches, but it was safe here.
“Are there so many people again?” a soldier muttered, pushing past those in the way, and asked the veteran, “What’s up, Old Eight? Have you found your wife?”
“Not found. There are many people in the White Sand District, but I didn’t see her. I don’t know where she ran off to.”
“Why don’t you go home and take a look?”
“No way, I can’t be a deserter. Many people take off their cloaks and forget their duties.”
As they spoke, they walked towards the military camp.
“Old Eight, why are you so rigid? Even if you go back to take a look, many would return afterward.” A comrade cautiously glanced around and said, “I’ll keep an eye on things; you just go back and see, bring a few people with you. You’ve done enough duty; today was supposed to be your day off; you hadn’t even gone out with the brothers yet, and you voluntarily reported back to the camp. Even if you get caught, no one will say anything to you.”
The veteran with the gray-white mustache glared at him and said:
“Those who start out slacking off nearly caused the army to collapse. If I hadn’t killed a few new softies with my blade, the situation would have spiraled out of control. I’m saying this clearly: the Great Benefactor and Commander Zhang Boren treat us so well. Any kid who dares to embarrass Commander Zhang Boren, I won’t let it go easily. Tonight, that thing called George has already embarrassed Commander Zhang Boren by stealing the Flower of Shalin City; we need to regain some face for him.”
“By the way, you lost the bet; the Flower of Shalin City is said to be a succubus.”
“Damn it, messing with those inhuman beings all day long, with horns and tails—though they are indeed quite beautiful.” The veteran with the gray-white mustache grumbled, “Let’s go back to the infirmary first; I’ll get the money.”
They stepped over the threshold; inside the military camp were soldiers and some people with a bit of power and money but only slightly less crowded than outside. The entrance to the infirmary had no door, just a white cloth hanging there. As they walked past, they caught a whiff of a bloody smell.
“Did someone get injured by the damned slaves?”
“No, the smell of blood is too strong.” The veteran with the gray-white mustache drew his long knife and raised his shield.
“Don’t be so cautious,” a comrade said.
Just then, a piercing scream came from inside: “Help! Help!”
The comrade’s body jerked, and he immediately drew his knife, ready to rush in. The veteran with the gray-white mustache grabbed him, turned his head, and shouted: “There’s an enemy attack! In the infirmary! Damn it, everyone, let’s go!”
Suddenly, the military camp was in an uproar. Soldiers picked up their weapons and gathered together; seeing the increase in numbers, the veteran with the gray-white mustache pushed aside the curtain, and over twenty soldiers in chain mail rushed into the infirmary area, which was a large courtyard. In this open courtyard, several large tents were set up to accommodate the wounded.
Usually, basins and tubs of water were placed in the courtyard for washing clothes and bandages. Now, it was completely deserted, blood scattered all over the walls, and the basins and tubs were filled with fresh red blood, eerily quiet.
Even the battle-hardened veteran with the gray-white mustache had never seen such a scene. The amount of blood was exaggerated; it was as if they had bled humans like pigs and splattered the blood on the walls to achieve such a ridiculous effect.
The soldiers felt their scalps prickling, their shields pressed tightly together as a weak voice came from the tent: “Help me.”
“Who’s trying to scare us?!” the veteran with the gray-white mustache yelled angrily.
The corner of the tent was pushed open, and a bloodied hand reached out. In the light of the torch, the veteran with the gray-white mustache realized that the skin on that hand had been completely skinned off.
“Help me…”
Something dragged the hand’s owner back.
“Let’s go together!”
The veteran with the gray-white mustache shouted, leading the charge forward. A few long spears rested on his shoulders, and the spears pushed aside the tent’s entrance, releasing a strong, fishy odor.
In the center of the tent stood a makeshift altar made of dismembered bodies. The materials for the altar were familiar to them; the veteran with the gray-white mustache recognized the heads stuck on the altar as the comrades he had shared stories with while tending to wounds, who had promised to go together to visit the brothel, as well as the caregivers who washed their clothes and brought them food.
They were still alive, their bodies trembling in fear. A tentacle reached out from the altar, wrapping around the person who had just called for help, dragging them back to the altar. The exposed white bones instantly pierced through their chest, and as their blood flowed onto the altar, the entire flesh and blood altar trembled.
Upon witnessing this scene, a wave of fear erupted in the hearts of all the soldiers who witnessed everything. They instinctively widened their eyes, their weapons trembling.
Suddenly, white bones erupted from the altar, quickly forming a gate of white bones. Inside the gate appeared a twisted blue light. A blackish-brown horn emerged from the blue light, attached to a steel helmet the size of a winter melon, with the faceplate covered in holes, followed by shoulderguards with four thick spikes…
In just a few seconds, a terrifying warrior clad in heavy blood-black armor, nearly two and a half meters tall and wielding a massive bloody blade, stepped out of the portal, his giant blade stained with blood, glowing like a red-hot iron bar.
Just looking at him, a wave of fear engulfed the hearts of the ordinary soldiers.
The veteran with the gray-white mustache was the first to react. His throat felt like it was being squeezed, and he forced out a sentence: “It’s the Demon Clan!”
The terrifying warrior said in a hoarse voice in the demon language: “Weak humans.”
As soon as he spoke, red light lit up from behind the blackened holes in his faceplate as the terrifying warrior stared at the soldiers. The veteran with the gray-white mustache, experienced, instinctively looked away and just happened to see his comrade beside him with a face of utter panic, contorted, rolling their eyes back, the sound of their heart beating in fear could be clearly heard.
The veteran with the gray-white mustache intended to cover his comrade’s eyes, but the comrade collapsed to the ground, body twitching, scared to death. Not just him; the soldiers surrounding the veteran with the gray-white mustache all collapsed to the ground, faces twisted in fear as they died.
The terrifying warrior took a step forward and spoke in the common tongue: “Very experienced; a qualifying fear offering.”
The veteran with the gray-white mustache turned to run. Though he did not understand the language, he realized that being targeted by the opponent would bring upon him a fate more painful than death.
Ordinary people alone could not stop this creature; he needed to call for Lord Zhang Boren!
His mind filled with thoughts of escape, he flung his shield to the ground. Suddenly, a wild wind blew from behind, a sharp pain shot through his foot, causing him to lose balance and fall. One foot connected directly with his knee, landing in front of him.
The veteran with the gray-white mustache gasped for breath, turning his head to see the terrifying warrior gradually closing in. His heart felt as if gripped by a hand; it was filled with terror. His fingers dug into the ground as he desperately crawled away, shouting, “Lord Zhang Boren! Save me!”
His nails ripped off, falling to the ground…
Outside the military camp, Zhang Boren and his entourage led their horses to the entrance of the military camp.
