Chapter 16: Ninth Fortress 16

Only after confirming that the Bone Eater was completely dead did An He loosen her grip on the knife by an inch.

Half a second later, all the pain came surging toward her at once.

Her leg seemed to have twisted when she jumped down from the vehicle, and there were wounds on her body from being slashed by bones. She hadn’t felt a thing at the time, but now she realized her whole body ached. The flesh on her thigh, along with her pant leg, had been torn open—likely snagged on a sharp bone spur when she lunged forward.

An He used two fingers to lift the blood-soaked fabric, frowning. She’d just put on new clothes, and now she’d ruined them. This was how she finally understood why Asta’s outfit had so many metal patches—getting injured was routine for the Thorn Lamp.

The entire vehicle was still crackling as it burned. An He looked up at the Ravens still hovering in midair and tried directing one to scout the distant gate. No matter what, she had to confirm the entrance was secure.

She didn’t actually know how to control the Ravens. The previous battle had been pure instinct. But now, Asta’s “trust your brain” strategy was finally paying off. When An He formed a strong conscious intent, one of the circling Ravens broke formation and winged toward the entrance two hundred meters away.

Moments later, an electrical signal from the Raven reached her mind. It was a strange sensation, like the tingling on her scalp from a sudden shock. Without any extra effort on her part, she knew what the Raven had seen—the information formed vivid images in her mind, just like reading text.

According to the Raven’s feed, the gate had already closed early, leaving only a narrow gap at the bottom for people to pass through. But machine guns were now positioned on either side of that gap, and Thorn Lamp members were likely waiting behind the door to provide backup.

Only then did An He slowly exhale the breath she’d been holding. She lowered her head with a self-mocking chuckle. She should’ve thought of that sooner—Ide wouldn’t leave the gate wide open unattended.

So, the door they’d left ajar on their way out, and Ide’s words… that scheming commander had done it all on purpose for her to see.

This was the real test.

Testing her resolve to protect the Ninth Fortress.

Ide really went to great lengths, An He thought.

But she’d turned misfortune into fortune.

Crack.

An He heard bones hitting the ground behind her. She turned, using the Raven’s vision to spot Ide lurking just beyond the nearby hill.

Ide’s sleeve was soaked in blood, but she held her gun steady with one hand, motionless, aiming at the modified vehicle.

Ide had probably been there for a while. The dark muzzle was locked precisely on target, encompassing both the vehicle and An He in its range—but she hadn’t fired.

Behind Ide lay the scattered Skeleton Frame of another Bone Eater.

An He pieced it together quickly: Ide had hitched a ride chasing after them, then efficiently dispatched her “ride” without mercy.

Ide lowered her gun muzzle and approached An He over the gravel. An He watched her shadow stretch long in the hazy sunlight. The two women regarded each other in silence until Ide finished traversing the long distance and stood before her.

“Not bad at all,” Ide said loudly, praising the new warrior in person.

An He knocked off her crooked, battered hat and met her gaze seriously. “Commander, if I hadn’t been able to kill that Bone Eater, you would’ve taken it down yourself, right?”

“Of course.”

“You wouldn’t have let it into the Ninth Fortress?”

“I stake my life on it. Even if it meant dying together, I wouldn’t let it through.”

“Then…” An He took a deep breath. “Did I pass your test?”

She had no need to question why Ide had schemed against her—from Ide’s position, she’d have done the same. An He simply asked about the outcome, calmly, her clear eyes fixed earnestly on the commander as she tilted her head up, betraying no strong emotion.

Ide paused, slung her gun over her back, and used her left hand to brush the dust from An He’s clothes. That steady, powerful palm lingered on An He’s shoulder. “Only someone willing to protect the Ninth Fortress would fight to the death in a situation like that. You did well, An He.”

An He averted her gaze and saw blood trickling from Ide’s right arm, dripping from her fingertips into the dirt.

They stood there equally battered, but fortunately, both still alive.

Moments later, Ide extended her palm toward An He and spoke solemnly.

“Welcome to the Thorn Lamp.”

An He stared at that broad hand. Two days ago, she’d offered hers to Lola in the same way—a gesture of acceptance, alliance, shared fate.

Once clasped, whether for interests or beliefs, an invisible bond would tie their lives together. They’d become a stand of united trees, roots entwined, taking root in this land.

An He had finally gotten the answer she wanted.

She smiled and clasped Ide’s hand, giving it a shake.

In that instant, she finally felt the grit rubbing in her eyes. She lifted her forearm, tilting her head to rub them.

Ide released her, frowning. “That moved? I didn’t know you wanted to join the Thorn Lamp this badly.”

“…”

An He didn’t reply. Whatever Ide said, it was.

Ide turned and headed toward the entrance, flexing her right hand in a small motion—it seemed unbroken, at least. She told An He, “You’re the Thorn Lamp’s exact one hundredth formal member, so your number is 100.”

“One hundred?” An He turned and limped after Ide’s footsteps. “Does the Thorn Lamp have that many Nestsouls?”

“Not now. That’s the total formal members since the Thorn Lamp was founded. Some have sacrificed, but we keep the numbers—everyone’s unique.”

An He listened intently as Ide began trusting her, sharing details about the Thorn Lamp.

“My grandmother’s time, there were only five Nestsouls. Then nineteen, twenty-seven. Now, surviving Nestsouls including you: forty-nine. Besides you all, we have about a hundred auxiliary personnel,” Ide said as they walked.

That armed force was still too small for an entire fortress. An He felt a conflicted pang. The Ninth Fortress was powerful—everyone had formidable skills.

Yet it was fragile too, guarded meticulously like a desert sapling.

“Will there be more in the future?”

“There will be more.” Ide’s answer was reassuring.

“By the way, your Nestsoul.” Ide pointed at the Ravens still following overhead. “Figured out how to use it yet?”

“Not really.” An He answered honestly. “But I get a bit: I can’t hang back and expect the Nestsoul to handle things. It’s what I actively do. I’m the main body; all the Nestsoul’s power depends on my control. Right?”

“Good intuition,” Ide said thoughtfully. “Some treat their Nestsoul like a guardian spirit or companion, but it’s not. The Nestsoul is part of you—your hand, your limb, part of your soul. It only obeys you.”

An He wore a half-understanding expression.

Ide smiled. “An He, if your performance is inconsistent, remember: it’s because you aren’t strong enough yet.”

“In what way?”

“All ways. Mentality, convictions, stamina, combat experience, crisis awareness. The stronger you get, the more your Nestsoul can do, the longer you can use your Innate Talent.” Ide glanced back. “No upper limit.”

No upper limit?

An He suddenly felt a surge of heat through her limbs. She was truly inspired.

They passed the charred Skeleton Frame without a backward glance, heading straight for the fortress entrance.

Ide looked up at the circling Ravens. “Seeing your Nestsoul reminds me of a story from my childhood.”

“What?” An He asked.

“My grandmother told me that before the Great Catastrophe, wolves and crows often allied to hunt. The crows scouted prey for the wolves, and the wolves shared the kill. Know that one?” Ide glanced back.

“First time hearing it.”

“Probably a fairy tale, but we’ve allied now for real.” Ide’s tone grew serious. “Story true or not, since I approved you for the Thorn Lamp, I trust your abilities. An He, I don’t think you’ll disappoint us.”

“…” An He murmured in agreement. “You and Asta said the exact same thing to me.”

“Not surprising.” Ide laughed easily as she walked on. “Working together in the Thorn Lamp long-term makes our thinking align more and more. Sure, some members disagree with me, like Professor Su. But Asta’s always on the same wavelength. The bonds between these women run deeper than people imagine.”

Ide looked down at An He. “You’ll be like that someday too.”

“Yeah?” An He kicked a pebble. She couldn’t picture it yet.

Fifty meters from the entrance, Ide halted, cupped her fingers, and blew three sharp whistles, then gazed at a spot on the Iron Wall. With the radio busted, she was signaling the Outpost the old-fashioned way to open up.

Soon, the Iron Wall bustled.

Thorn Lamp support crew arrived with decontamination gear, incinerating the nearby bones. The wrecked vehicle, after high-heat sterilization, was towed to the Ninth Fortress processing plant. There, its precious parts would be decontaminated, melted down, reforged into new tools.

An He glanced at the busy, orderly support team. Heidi aside, the rest were unfamiliar faces—mostly ordinary folk without Nestsouls. It was her first time seeing them, but from now on, their paths would cross more and more.

An He stepped through the gate. Only then did the Ravens under the vast sky vanish one by one.

When just one Raven remained in the sky, An He jolted. She whipped around—the wasteland was empty, visibility choked by black particles.

But from the Raven’s signal, she knew: far off, a red-clad woman stood on the vast yellow earth, arms crossed, gazing at the sky.

Gu Xianqing.

An He’s heart pounded wildly.

She could clearly feel Gu Xianqing staring at her Raven. No line of sight connected them, yet it felt like they locked eyes.

An He’s scalp prickled.