Chapter 20: Ninth Fortress 20 Part 3

“In the Golden Age, it was far larger—the entire Hamir Plains was its domain. Now, only the core Babel Tower remains—this steel tower is Babel Tower, from an ancient religion’s legend of a tower to the heavens. But that’s outdated outside the First Fortress.” Gu Xianqing paused to explain.

After a moment, she continued. “Even these remnants aren’t the original Mother City site. After the great catastrophe, they rose from an Underground Shelter. See those outer nets? That’s the Golden Age Shell Membrane—hard enough to repel Bone Eaters and human invaders. The First Fortress survives on resources to this day thanks to that unassuming layer.”

An He raised the binoculars again and realized it wasn’t mere wire fencing. Interwoven grids like eggshell membrane encased the entire fortress.

Her mind flashed to the Ninth Fortress.

Compared to the First Fortress, the Ninth was like cavemen in caves, while this had leaped into the information age.

An He was baffled. Outwardly, this place seemed so livable—low radiation, spacious homes. Yet Ninth Fortress folk spoke of it with disdain.

“A fortress with such great resources—why covet others’?” An He asked.

“You mean the spies?”

An He nodded. Gu Xianqing was a great conversation partner—no need for the caution she’d used with Lola. Gu Xianqing knew exactly what she meant.

“Because these people have no idea how to use Mother City’s resources.” Gu Xianqing’s lips curved in a smile. “The original inhabitants died out in the Golden Age from infighting. Now it’s wasteland-born descendants living here. They found it, activated the Underground Shelter. But they know nothing about it—not even how the Shell Membrane works. Resources are still scarce, and it’s fragile beyond imagination.”

Gu Xianqing’s words wove a tapestry of history: Golden Age, solar superstorm, Dark Ages, intercontinental wars, great catastrophe, to today’s Wasteland… An He pieced together the land’s past from fragments, nothing like her memories.

“Is this the real world?”

Gu Xianqing nodded. “This is the real world.”

“This is what you wanted to show me?”

“No,” Gu Xianqing denied again. She remounted her bike. “What I want to show you isn’t how prosperous it is, but something useful to you.”

An He slung the binoculars around her neck and followed on her bike.

The two bikes traveled one behind the other along the roadless cliffside. Several times, An He nearly slid down the slope, but Gu Xianqing always led steadily ahead.

This area didn’t seem suited for vehicles—the Swamp hadn’t either. Gu Xianqing must have taken a shortcut, so they encountered no one.

Soon, Gu Xianqing stopped again.

They halted beside a deep pit twenty meters wide, located in the valley below the cliff, some distance from the First Fortress. The surrounding ground was barren, without a blade of grass.

The pit brimmed with countless charred bones. Those at the center had turned to carbon, while the corpses piled along the edges showed less obvious burn marks.

Some bodies even retained recognizable faces and clothing.

“This is…?” An He pressed her scarf to her face. She couldn’t stand the stench.

“The incineration pit. Where the First Fortress disposes of Bone Erosion Disease patients.”

“Looks like the workers got lazy.” Some corpses hadn’t been burned at all. An He stepped back farther.

“Can’t blame them. The corpse haulers are the lowest rung of Healers, doing the dirtiest work for the least resources. I’d slack off too.” Gu Xianqing spoke in mocking sarcasm, her eyes glinting with chilling amusement, though she also covered her mouth and nose.

“This isn’t inside the fortress. Even if they don’t clean it up thoroughly, the fungi won’t affect the fortress at all. It’ll just benefit the nearby Bone Eaters. The First Fortress has powerful defensive barriers—they don’t care. Other fortresses wouldn’t dare.”

An He stood in silence. She’d seen how the Ninth Fortress handled Bone Eaters and scrapped vehicles: meticulously, never letting Bone Erosion fungi spread just because they were beyond the Iron Wall.

“Those who hoard rich resources often think their comfortable lives are earned.” Gu Xianqing let out a laugh. “They’re just lucky to be born here, while they view the lower classes as worthless ants due to ‘inferior ability.'”

“You mean the Heroic Spirits Society?”

Gu Xianqing shrugged. “One of them, sure.”

“You’ve been to the First Fortress?” An He asked again. She realized Gu Xianqing wasn’t just familiar with it—she harbored clear animosity. That matched Heidi’s attitude.

“I stayed there, but only for three short days.” This time, Gu Xianqing actually answered a personal question.

Three days, An He repeated silently. So Gu Xianqing wasn’t from the First Fortress. An He mulled over the unspoken implications, keeping them to herself.

Gu Xianqing didn’t notice her expression. “Any longer, and I could’ve wiped out their nest.”

“You alone? Take down the First Fortress?” An He finally smiled. “Big talk.”

“But now I have you, don’t I?” Gu Xianqing said suddenly.

An He’s smile vanished—her heart clenched, that familiar sense of crisis surging back.

After saying that, Gu Xianqing slid down the loose yellow soil along the pit’s edge to a nearby corpse. Under An He’s gaze, she unhesitatingly tore off its sleeve badge and tossed it back to her.

“This is?”

Gu Xianqing lifted her thumb, revealing the badge. “I heard the night before last that the First Fortress executed a batch of Heroic Spirits Society members. Lucky timing—thought you’d want to see.”

The emblem matched exactly what An He had described to Lola.

“You should be immune to Bone Erosion Disease. Take it—as a gift from me.” Gu Xianqing stuffed the badge into An He’s arms and walked away from the pit without looking back.

An He glanced back at the corpse.

The unnamed Heroic Spirit soldier shared their East Asian features—fully human. Her black hair was neatly combed, her lowered eyes like those in sleep. But a bowl-sized hole gaped in her chest cavity.

Object and kind evoke pity. An He lowered her gaze to study the badge closely. The embroidered patch had intricate, uneven textures—thirteen forked rivers converging into one, the sun above stained red like it had been soaked in blood.

An He looked away and hurried after Gu Xianqing.

“The night before last…” An He calculated the time. “So you didn’t come to my dream?”

Gu Xianqing’s eyes curved. “What? Missed me?”

Like hell.

An He ignored her and put distance between them and the pit.

Gu Xianqing arched her brow with interest. “Perfect timing—I missed you too.”

—As if. Being busy was only one reason.

She’d deliberately avoided An He, letting her stew in wild thoughts. Monotony was boring. Only by keeping An He off-balance could she make her chase relentlessly.

An He tuned her out, still studying the badge’s pattern.

Moments later, the smell of gasoline wafted up. She looked up to see Gu Xianqing siphoning fuel from her own bike’s tank into An He’s using a hose.

“What are you doing?” An He pocketed the badge securely and strode to the bikes.

“Gas is running low, and you’ve still got to get back to the Ninth Fortress.” Gu Xianqing finished efficiently. “Remember the way back? I know you do.”

Ravens were clever creatures. So was An He.

An He didn’t answer, countering instead: “You’re not going back?”

A flicker of panic stirred in her chest. She’d assumed they’d return together… Return where? Where did Gu Xianqing even live?

“I’ve got my own business.” Gu Xianqing tightened her tank cap, yanked out the hose, and handed An He the sniper rifle from her back. “Three rounds left. You probably won’t need them.”

An He didn’t take it at first, glancing sideways. “You brought me here just for this little field trip?”

Gu Xianqing sighed, meeting her eyes squarely. “An He, you’re sharp. By now, you must’ve figured out my goal.”

An He pressed her lips together, silent.

She’d been thinking nonstop, so the moment Gu Xianqing handed her the badge, it clicked.

—Gu Xianqing had used a First Fortress gun to attack Thorn Lamp members, and now she was giving An He the gun and badge. An He couldn’t keep them private, so Gu Xianqing meant for her to report them to Thorn Lamp.

But all these “casual” actions weren’t aimed at An He—they pointed straight at the First Fortress.

At this chaotic juncture, this woman seemed intent on widening the rift between the Ninth Fortress and the First Fortress, even sparking war.

An He kept her assumptions cautious, unconfirmed.

“Oh, right—when you report, blame the supply raid on the First Fortress too. Say their stuff getting robbed was a smokescreen they put out. Honestly, the Bone Eaters didn’t take their supplies. I even went to the trouble of saving people, but they spread fake news to avoid suspicion.”

Gu Xianqing described the headache plaguing both fortresses with nonchalant ease.

An He’s pupils contracted sharply.

Just how many strings has she pulled?

“You behind the supply hijacking?” An He asked.

“Bone Eaters did it.”

This was typical—when Gu Xianqing dodged a question, she never told the truth. An He narrowed her eyes. “You got a grudge against the First Fortress?”

“Plenty of people hate me.” Gu Xianqing evaded again, tilting her chin up. “Don’t worry—I won’t kill Ninth Fortress folks. I don’t do pointless things.”

—So everything she does has purpose!

Realizing that, An He’s heart lurched.

Gu Xianqing had guided her, shown her this decaying city, explained it all in such detail—not some generous road trip. Every step served her agenda.

A nameless sense of betrayal flashed through An He. Then what about those three years of entanglement? For what?

“Don’t ask. I won’t answer.” Gu Xianqing cut her off curtly.

In the end, An He reached out and took the sniper rifle.

She mentally retraced the route and the First Fortress’s layout once more. When she raised her eyes, they gleamed with clarity.

No matter what, Gu Xianqing had done her a huge favor. She now had a firsthand impression of the First Fortress, knew the plain’s original name, the city’s ancient alias, and its landmark buildings.

She had more leverage to maneuver against Lola.

Wasn’t she using Gu Xianqing too?

A faint smile touched An He’s face—a tacit understanding. She mounted her bike, revved the engine, and gave her answer: “I’ll report it to the commander.”

The lone motorcycle headed back the way they’d come.

Gu Xianqing leaned against her now-empty-tanked bike, silently watching An He’s receding figure.

That figure was still filthy, mud-caked clothes uncleaned, but beneath the grime, the keen sword edge had been honed sharp.

Gu Xianqing looked down, a genuine smile blooming from within—An He was the weapon she’d helped forge, the most fitting, most controllable one.