Chapter 38: A Night of Wind and Frost (Major Revision)

The rain grew heavier.

Xie Pingzhi had never imagined she’d describe a single raindrop as cold and unyielding, but today, that was the only word that could capture the world unfolding before her eyes.

The mine pit had collapsed entirely. The temporary iron sheeting, meant for brief use, had been ripped apart from end to end, exposing the fractured steel and concrete beneath. Mixed with scattered sand and stones, it was all swept away by the rushing torrent.

The downpour was relentless and swift, blanketing everything. When Xie Pingzhi tilted her head back, she couldn’t make out the sky or the clouds—only the weight of the rain itself and the drifting mist. Beyond that lay boundless darkness. No one knew how much longer it would last; in that moment, the world seemed to have frozen still.

The ground was carpeted with Shu Si corpses. The creatures had feeble vitality. Half an hour earlier, the captain had unleashed Yinghuo, which had nearly incinerated the flock of birds. Once their numbers thinned, dealing with Shu Si became straightforward—a silenced bomb hurled casually, and it was on to the next battlefield.

The real trouble came from the He Ju Beasts and Kui Que. No one knew where these monstrosities had crawled out from. They were vicious, especially the latter. These man-eating horrors were insanely bloodthirsty; even with their wings riddled by bullets, they would screech and lunge to snatch a specialist’s head.

Xie Pingzhi’s short jacket was soaked through. The cold wind seized what little warmth remained in her body. She shivered, teeth clenched, and her tumble across the ground had just wrecked another gun.

Awakeners were human, after all. Instincts weren’t some divine art; you still got drenched in the rain you couldn’t avoid, and the wounds you couldn’t escape.

Xie Pingzhi swiped the rain from her face. In the distance, through the veil of mist, she spotted Shi Zui darting about.

“Bad news—Xiao Qiu’s locator seems to be offline.”

Ning Wan huddled under the makeshift rain shelter, fingers flying across the keyboard. Aether churned at full throttle across the intranet, racing to meet every urgent request.

“And the good news?”

Shi Zui’s voice rasped through the Awakening Ring, laced with deep, labored breaths. Exhaustion was plain, though whether from the grueling, nonstop combat or something else was unclear.

“Xu Xianyue’s gone missing too. I’m betting she’s with Xiao Qiu right now.” Ning Wan tuned out the horrific roars of exotic beasts crackling over the comms channel as she frantically pinpointed locations. “Hang on, almost… We stuck at least a hundred trackers on Xu. We’ll have her in a second!”

The progress bar filled. A bright red dot blinked to life. Before Ning Wan could whoop in triumph, Aether blared an alarm. In the next instant, red dots multiplied exponentially, swarming the entire map like ants erupting from a nest.

So where the hell was Xu Xianyue now?!

There was no time for a full report. Olivia was already yelling over the channel. Autumn’s team had finally breached the battlefield, but before she could add any dramatic flair to their stylish entrance, the news of Ye Jingqiu’s disappearance hit.

“Still no sign of Ye Jingqiu?” Olivia let out a cold laugh, straining to keep her tone steady. “Your base sure knows how to run things—sending a kid to die, huh?”

Ning Wan had no time for her. The temporary shelter leaked like a sieve amid the relentless drumming of rain, putting her in the mood to recite Du Fu’s lament about his thatched hut torn apart by autumn gales:

“Xiao Qiu’s life isn’t in immediate danger, at least. Xu Xianyue’s out for revenge. Worst case? Xiao Qiu might already be inside the Golden Hall.”

“Then I’ll go after Xiao Qiu. We split up.” Constance clamped a hand over her earpiece, fighting to block out the helicopter’s roar. With her other hand gripping the safety harness, she scanned the desolate rainy night from a hundred meters aloft.

“Uh… probably not gonna happen.” Xie Pingzhi squinted at the massive bird shape looming in the distance, then raised her hand tentatively. “A-rank exotic beast Kui Que—a mid-tier boss, by the looks of it. Constance, mind lending some support?”

“Leave it to me.” Shi Zui broke her long silence.

No one argued. The sheets of rain blurred all vision, but they couldn’t impede the surging cobalt whirlwind that rose into the air.

Kui Que lived next door to the He Ju Beasts in whatever hellish depths they called home, but with its rat-like feet, tiger claws, and a pair of wings, it was far more aggressive. This A-rank specimen from the underground hovered directly above the base team, its razor-sharp talons dripping thick gouts of blood. It moved like a rain-shrouded assassin that didn’t need to breathe, poised for a single, lethal strike.

That was when Shi Zui appeared right in front of it. Kui Que sensed an unnatural threat at once. It beat its wings to climb higher—but the human before it launched into a leap, hurtling forward at impossible speed!

A close-quarters brawl with a wild beast?

Xie Pingzhi blinked in shock. She knew the captain favored melee weapons, but she’d never pictured her opting for this kind of duelist showdown straight out of a wuxia tale.

Kui Que had squandered its first move, leaving no room to evade. The domain of Instinct: Hurricane Blade snapped into place in a heartbeat. Only an A-rank wind instinct could forge a near-vacuum like this. Deprived of air currents, Kui Que flopped like a fish out of water, helpless as Shi Zui bore down on it.

Yet Kui Que showed no panic. The vast size difference all but promised its victory—no elephant feared an ant buzzing toward it. With arrogant flair, it bared its ranks of snow-white fangs to greet the incoming meal.

Hurricane Blade sheared through the air, slicing countless rain trails. Shi Zui twisted midair like a skimming swallow, her pitch-black combat suit bending into an impossible arc as her core muscles propelled her. She latched onto Kui Que’s spine!

The beast let out a bellowing roar and shot toward the heavens. Shi Zui hadn’t deactivated Hurricane Blade; the high-velocity airstream still raged, carving twin gashes deep into the creature’s bones.

Beast blood sprayed in geysers, its cloying reek mingling with the storm.

Kui Que panicked. It hadn’t imagined a moment’s hubris would drag it toward the abyss. It drew breath for a elemental howl—but Shi Zui was already perched atop its head!

Shi Zui cinched her hold around Kui Que’s neck. Xie Pingzhi recognized Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu; the captain had always been a grappling master. Three years back, during Team One’s mission in the Amazon Rainforest, she’d strangled an exotic python with her bare hands.

A gunshot cracked abruptly across the flat ground. Xie Pingzhi instantly understood—the captain had never planned to grapple with this beast using a cold blade! She intended to ram the bullets into this Kui Que’s skull in the most efficient way possible!

The night rain grew more desolate, the darkness deepening. Amid the vast curtain of night, Shi Zui’s gaze was chillingly cold. Her left hand hooked tightly around the Kui Que’s lower jaw while her right shoved the revolver straight into the exotic beast’s maw. Her pale, powerful fingers clamped down on the trigger, and the thunderstorm bullets—etched with a miniature rune formation—roared as they tore through its flesh.

One, two, three…

Shi Zui gripped an M500 revolver, its massive caliber allowing room for only five rounds in the cylinder. She calmly tallied the shots fired, and without the slightest hesitation after the fifth—

She released her grip, drew her second gun, and pulled the trigger.

The second revolver jammed into the Kui Que’s mouth in an instant, unleashing the same thunderstorm rounds with the same brutal force. The beast’s vitality was already ebbing away. It let out a mournful wail and began spinning wildly, desperate to fling the human from its back.

It was no use. Shi Zui couldn’t care less if the world around her spun like a top. Her eyes remained locked on her target, her black clothes whipping wildly in the cold wind. Beneath the endless veil of rain, her figure seemed almost frail.

Right now, Shi Zui was nothing more than a calm, efficient killing machine. She ignored every threat and simply drove the gun barrel even deeper.

Nine custom bullets had already shredded the exotic beast. The Kui Que plunged uncontrollably into the abyss of death, carrying Shi Zui with it as they hurtled toward the ground!

Shi Zui remained oblivious. She merely took aim and fired her final thunder round. Xie Pingzhi bellowed a warning in the comms channel about the distance, but the now-motionless Kui Que smashed heavily onto a jagged outcrop.

It was only ten meters up, but Shi Zui suddenly clamped down hard on the beast’s neck. In the final instant before impact, she wrenched it to the right and shoved with all her might. In a flash, she used the momentum of the fall to hurl herself sideways.

Boom!

The explosion rocked heaven and earth. It turned out Shi Zui had saved one last bomb for this A-rank exotic beast. The world seemed to fall silent as the static charge ripped the Kui Que to shreds.

The comms channel went dead quiet. Drawing on pure instinct to cushion her landing, Shi Zui rose to her feet once more. Xie Pingzhi could see blood trickling from her left ear—the price of pushing her instincts too far.

“I think I know where the Golden Hall is.”

Shi Zui’s low voice broke the silence in the channel.

Ning Wan’s typing paused for a moment. “What do you mean, Shi Zui?”

Standing amid the downpour, Shi Zui casually wiped the blood from her ear. “Remember the ancient records? Every time the Candle Dragon appears, a beast tide follows. Where do these A-rank exotic beasts usually hide? The base’s detectors blanket the area—could a single mine pit really conceal so many without detection?”

Silence fell over the channel. Xie Pingzhi impaled a He Ju Beast with a backhand thrust, panting as she replied, “Captain, are you saying the Candle Dragon’s Golden Hall is actually in some kind of heterodimensional space, like the base?”

“That’s right. We both know the Awakening Ring is the link between the base and reality. By the same logic, why couldn’t a Candle Dragon Scale be the key to activating the Golden Hall?”

Ning Wan fell quiet for a moment. “Captain Shi might be onto something. In AD 290, Xu Xun subdued the fourth incarnation of the Candle Dragon at an octagonal well in Nanchang Wanshou Palace. The base once detected an ancient rune formation there—something like a teleport array—that Xu Xun left behind. Maybe he just drove it back to its lair.”

Olivia let out a hmph in the channel. “In that case, does Captain Shi need a dragon scale? I’ve got three on me.”

“But we’ve only got one S-rank specialist left,” Ning Wan pointed out helpfully from the helicopter that had finally fished her out. “This is a beast tide from the Candle Dragon’s awakening. The Kui Que are just the vanguard. If the North Howl Mountain from the Classic of Mountains and Seas is Candle Dragon territory, who knows how many more A-rank exotic beasts are waiting?”

The pit bottom crawled with exotic beasts, their dense numbers overwhelming. Blades sank into flesh and explosions rang out without end. More elites were rushing toward Cat Ear Mountain, but how many specialists would it take to kill just one A-rank exotic beast?

These were monsters that could survive a direct hit from a two-ton modified car.

Shi Zui stared down into the pit and fell silent. If she were there, she could lighten the load for most of the specialists on site. But her true battlefield wasn’t here.

Xie Pingzhi’s voice came over the channel, feigning levity. “Alright, Captain. Since you know how to get into the Golden Hall, no more hesitation. We can’t just leave Xiao Qiu alone in the Candle Dragon Hall, can we?”

It was finally time to make the call. Olivia sighed and unleashed a gust blade with a casual flick. Then, riding the momentum, she hurled it forward—

“Captain Shi, don’t lose it.”

A fiery red Candle Dragon Scale landed squarely in Shi Zui’s hand.

No opportunity like this would come twice. The Candle Dragon might already be stirring—no time for sentiment or second thoughts.

Shi Zui took a deep breath and activated her Awakening Ring.

“Task S-20200827, Action Division Team One’s Shi Zui requesting permission to enter the Golden Hall. Carrying item: Dragon Trapping Box.”

“Request approved. Good luck.” Base Leader Ying Tian’s voice came low and steady.

The helicopter descended to a certain height, and amid the stormy night, a small silver box dropped down. Shi Zui wasted no time. Hurricane Blade activated in a heartbeat. She leaped, snatched the box, and plunged without hesitation into the sea of beasts in the mine pit!

A flash of golden light streaked by, and the dot representing Shi Zui vanished from the map.

Ning Wan stared at the screen, stunned for an instant. “She’s really gone?”

“The captain’s off to save the world, so spare a glance for me too, Comrade Ning Wan,” Xie Pingzhi grumbled listlessly from the front lines. “A little support? The working masses are up to our necks in it here.”

“You’re not out of ammo yet,” Ning Wan shot back with a merciless eye-roll. If the woman could crack jokes, she wasn’t at the end of her rope. “Zhouzhou isn’t here yet. Hold the line down there for now.”

No matter how brightly the helicopter’s spotlights blazed, the pouring rain turned the mine pit’s bottom into a blurry haze. It did nothing to slow the exotic beasts’ emergence. In the blink of an eye, three auras no weaker than the Kui Que’s bore down on them.

“Sigh. Looks like tonight’s the night I give my life for the cause of human freedom.”

Xie Pingzhi let out a long sigh. She tapped her earpiece to switch to the all-channel frequency, her voice lazy and drawl: “Friends, all of you stay away from me. Don’t stop me from becoming the base’s monument of merit, okay?”

The instant these words left her lips, the wind elements around Xie Pingzhi surged wildly, her Rampage Value breaking into six figures!

But just as she prepared to charge forward, a figure suddenly pounced on her, shattering her casting with overwhelming force.

Xie Pingzhi: “?”

No way—who’s blocking me from earning merits and shedding blood for the base? You can’t treat me like this!

The “petite” Constance had Xie Pingzhi pinned firmly to the ground, gasping for breath in great heaving gulps. It was clear she’d rushed over in a panic.

Xie Pingzhi was dumbfounded. “W-what are you doing? Didn’t we just see each other the day before yesterday…”

“What do you think I’m doing?!”

Constance growled in fury, cutting off Xie Pingzhi mid-sentence. “Xie Pingzhi, do you have to play the hero? Do you have to die right in front of me? Things haven’t gotten that bad yet—Zhou Xianhui and Director Yi are still on their way. Are you really that eager to throw your life away!”

Xie Pingzhi: “Huh?”

Constance’s face flushed beet red, her 1.35-meter frame radiating the ferocious momentum of someone 1.85 meters tall. “Huh what? Cat got your tongue? Answer me! Do all you Germans love grandstanding like this?!”

Xie Pingzhi was hauled to her feet by Constance yanking her collar. The scene was downright terrifying—the entire hall fell deathly silent, no one daring to utter a word. Even the exotic beasts seemed stupefied.

Glimmers of tears flickered at the corners of Constance’s eyes, but she pressed on with undiminished ferocity. “How much Tyrfing Potion have you chugged? Turn around and go back right now.”

Xie Pingzhi finally pieced it together. She struggled halfheartedly. “I-I didn’t drink any.”

“Didn’t drink what? Didn’t you just say you were off to die?”

“I didn’t drink Tyrfing Potion. I was just exaggerating a little,” Xie Pingzhi said, nearly in tears. “Why are you overreacting so much tonight? This is just my usual way of talking, isn’t it?”

“Constance, A-Xie was just about to release her instinct…” Ning Wan interjected cautiously.

Constance sensed something was wrong. After a long moment, she released her grip in a daze and murmured to herself, “Then why’d you tell everyone to stay away from you?”

“Full-form Shame Grace can easily hurt bystanders. I only unleash Shame Grace a few times a year, but surely you haven’t forgotten that much.”

Constance staggered back a few steps and buried her face in her hands. “I thought you were planning to take on three A-rank exotic beasts by yourself… That’s impossible without Tyrfing.”

“What’s impossible about it? I couldn’t have done it a year ago, but now? Piece of cake.” Xie Pingzhi shrugged helplessly and rose to her feet once more.

Shame Grace activated again, the wind elements swirling rapidly around her. Fierce gales howled about Xie Pingzhi, battering the downpour into submission.

“Constance, stay back this time.” Xie Pingzhi turned her head abruptly. Her face still wore that carefree expression, but her words rang with unshakeable resolve.

She sighed. “Instinct: Shame Grace. It was supposed to be S-rank, originally.”

The wind fell abruptly still.

Shame Grace was the first instinct to emerge during China’s ancient Warring States period. It was an instinct that underwent countless renamings, for its power was bound solely to the limits of its wielder.

In the end, an assassin gave it its name. As Jiang Yan wrote in his “Rhapsody on Parting,” “The swordsman of Shame Grace, the youth who serves his lord”—Shame Grace’s ability mirrored that sentiment. Every Awakener who wielded it burned with regret at their own shortcomings, hating that they could not advance even one step further.

But Xie Pingzhi had never harbored much resentment.

From the eye of the gathering whirlwind, she opened her eyes. Twin blue flames—cold and heatless—burned in their depths. Her expression remained languid, but Xie Pingzhi’s presence had transformed. A draconic majesty unfurled around her.

Perhaps she’d slacked off too long; few seemed to remember that Xie Pingzhi was an A-level Specialist—the second-strongest Awakener in Team One after Shi Zui.

In that instant, the winds erupted outward, throwing Beijing’s elemental winds into chaos. The world shifted; gales roared to life. Myriad blades of blue-green wind surged forth like rampaging lions toward the exotic beasts—an endless, unrelenting onslaught, mirroring the ceaseless tangle of fate between humanity and the beasts!

Full-form Instinct: Shame Grace—activated.