Chapter 30: Ninth Fortress

Lady Heli’s disappearance didn’t require An He to expend much effort to cover up. She simply burned a piece of clothing.

She didn’t need to hide it from the others; she just had to handle Lola.

The next morning, Lola discovered Heli’s absence. After searching everywhere with An He to no avail, An He casually suggested: What if Heli had followed the Red-Clothed Apostle?

“How could she follow? It couldn’t make a whole person vanish like that. Those are all hallucinations and nonsense…” Lola shuddered all over, then turned around and took the initiative to lead An He toward the mine shaft in the morning light.

Heli couldn’t have disappeared, nor could she have left the Iron Wall. No one could slip away unnoticed. Lola had tried it herself—the sentries’ defenses were extremely strict for her, let alone for Heli.

So, there was only one possibility: Heli was still inside the fortress.

Lola noticed that the cracks in the mine shaft had traces of being deliberately sealed. She had come here once before but hadn’t gone too deep last time, only glancing inside to confirm a skeleton before leaving immediately.

This time, the skeleton in the deep pit had turned into bone fragments, scorched by fire and mixed with the rubble.

Wedged in the stone crevices was a piece of fabric that hadn’t burned completely.

The fabric was identical to Lady Heli’s jacket.

As if it had been burned together with her.

An He stood at the edge of the deep pit, gazing down. “Do you think the hallucinations produced by the believers are real? Does this count as offering herself as sustenance to the god they worship?”

“How could it be real?” Lola frowned. “Are you saying the hallucination made Lady Heli self-immolate? I think you people… are all nuts.”

An He neither confirmed nor denied it, turning to walk outside. Lola hadn’t experienced any hallucinations. That was perfect—it meant she couldn’t comprehend the believers’ behavior. Since she couldn’t understand it, any abnormality would seem normal. It was like a madman calling ants “mommy”; no one would bother delving into it.

This worked out perfectly. The destruction of the skeleton and Heli’s disappearance were neatly resolved together. She didn’t need to give Lola any extra explanations.

“You handle the report on Heli’s disappearance,” An He said smoothly, shoving the trouble onto Lola. “Especially to Professor Su. After all, everyone knows you visited the ‘sick’ Heli from time to time.”

Lola picked up a stone in annoyance, helping An He reseal the cracks. “It’s tricky. I can only keep it quiet for now—pretend Heli’s still at home recovering alone. What about the fungus? Hide that too?”

“Hide it,” An He said. “Not tricky at all. No one will waste much energy on this now, because a bigger storm is coming.”

Just like now—her methods were still a bit clumsy and imprecise, but no one, including Lola, had the mind to scrutinize it.

The “big storm” An He referred to was the unusual movements from the First Fortress.

…

A day later, An He had dealt with the infiltrator issue.

She hadn’t done anything superfluous, just hinted to Heidi—who often patrolled the fortress outskirts—to check the southeast direction more often. That was the hillside where she and Gu Xianqing had been attacked by the Tier Four Bone Eaters— to guard against new enemies.

Heidi thought her caution was essential, so soon, the Ninth Fortress patrol team discovered the First Fortress infiltrator’s corpse.

The body hadn’t been scavenged by Tier Four Bone Eaters, half-buried under yellow sand, with the ridden motorcycle crushed atop it.

Though the vehicle had strong camouflage—from appearance to materials, it looked like it came from the Seventh or Third Fortress—Heidi, expert in mechanics, disassembled the engine and keenly spotted some First Fortress machining parts inside.

The corpse had been killed by bullets and a dagger, neither Ninth Fortress weapons. The gun was gone, turning the cause of death into a mystery.

This mystery only heightened the Ninth Fortress’s vigilance. The intel that [the First Fortress had sent another provocateur] quickly spread to everyone via Heidi.

When An He heard, she feigned surprise for a good while. She usually kept her emotions subdued, so when she just lowered her eyes, Heidi could sense her worry and anger.

“Don’t worry,” Heidi comforted her. “We’ll protect the Ninth Fortress with our lives.”

An He bowed her head.

Moments later, the force she struck on the punching test post was several times heavier than her initial blows.

Heidi and Asta watched her with concern, deeply sensing that An He was truly angry—just like every Thorn Lamp member, sharing the fury of being provoked.

This level of alert wasn’t enough. An He needed to talk to Ide.

When she arrived at Ide’s office, An He heard arguing voices. It wasn’t really arguing—more like two people forcefully suppressing their displeasure in a heated, resounding debate.

The office door wasn’t fully closed, leaving a crack. An He straightened her back and openly stood at the door to eavesdrop.

Through the gap, she saw Su Ling and Ide standing at opposite ends of the desk, facing off across it.

Neither noticed her, nor cared to.

Ah, An He thought, Ide really did say “Professor Su always disagrees with me.”

Su Ling braced both hands on the desk, her long hair tucked behind her ear, revealing ear tips flushed red from the argument. Her eyes behind the glasses sharply fixed on the commander opposite.

Her voice remained soft and pleasant, but now carried a rare authority. “I still believe you shouldn’t put the Ninth Fortress in danger.”

Commander Ide stood at the other end, arms crossed, calmly regarding the face before her. Only a slight furrow of her brows betrayed her displeasure.

This subtle frown irked Su Ling. She took a deep breath. “You shouldn’t rashly warn the other fortresses about joint defense. The First Fortress’s spies are already entrenched there—that means they’re prepared and have gathered unknown intel.

“Now, by so blatantly stepping forward with a joint defense proposal, you’re directly and decisively pointing the spearhead at the Ninth Fortress. How many fortresses responded to you? Ide.”

Su Ling’s chest heaved, her anger making it hard to steady her breathing.

Ide’s lips moved, her gaze shifting away. “Two.”

“Only two.” Su Ling’s hands on the desk balled into fists. “So, if we anger the First Fortress and go to war now, what happens to the Ninth Fortress’s people?”

The creases between Ide’s brows deepened. “Since I made the suggestion, it means I can bear the responsibility and protect them.”

“Is that so?” Su Ling’s glasses reflected the light. “Then, how many Thorn Lamps are you planning to lead into battle? Everyone? What about the logistics troops and civilians in the rear—are they to pick up picks and hammers, fighting bravely to the last second like you and your team?”

She kept a deliberate slow pace, not exactly questioning, but each rhetorical query expressed her dissatisfaction.

“Why so aggressive?” Ide locked eyes with Su Ling. “Are you questioning the beliefs I instill in the Thorn Lamps again? We’re not discussing that.”

“That’s exactly what we’re discussing.” Su Ling lowered her head slightly. “Your actions mean you don’t fear war or the First Fortress’s provocations. It also means you’ll throw away your lives without hesitation in battle.”

Su Ling paused, and after a moment of silence, she deflated entirely. “Ide, have you considered? If you… or if they suddenly die, what will become of the Ninth Fortress?”

Ide said nothing. The two strands of golden hair on her forehead swayed with her breathing, hanging before her eyes.

“You’re the youngest leader of the Thorn Lamps, and no one in the Thorn Lamps is stronger than you.” Su Ling’s tone carried a plea. “So, if the leader falls, the entire fortress will instantly fall into a leaderless state. No one can immediately take your place and fulfill your role.

“If the First Fortress wins this battle, the surviving people—even if incorporated under First Fortress rule—won’t have good days. Because their leader resisted, they’ll face even greater exclusion and suspicion from the rulers. No one will let them live in peace; rulers consolidating power won’t give such opportunities.”

“Weren’t the previous Fourteen Fortresses just like that?” Su Ling looked up again. “You need to consider everyone’s situation. Bravery isn’t the only option.”

“Of course I’m considering it.” Ide lowered her arms, bracing them on the desk too. “But Professor Su, the Ninth Fortress has already been targeted. If you think hiding behind other fortresses will let us weather this crisis safely, let me tell you plainly: it won’t.”

Ide’s voice was low and resolute. “The enemy has already extended its tentacles to the Ninth Fortress’s outskirts—this is an invasion. Should we beg them to stop?

“If we retreat, withdraw, show fear, or hide behind others begging for help, there’s only one outcome—it tells them we’re weak and can be trampled at will.”

Ide’s fingers gripping the desk turned white from the force. “You cite the Fourteen Fortresses as examples; I have countless others. On this wasteland, before the trade alliance, bloody wars happened anytime, anywhere. If you don’t bare your fangs, don’t stand and unite forces to resist, you’ll just be devoured. You’re right—I do go into every battle with a resolve to die.”

She stared tightly into Su Ling’s eyes, their gazes meeting at eye level. Ide spoke again. “So, I have to be the one to strike back first—and the fiercest one. Even if I lose, I’ll make the invaders pay a heavy price, so next time they think to act, they’ll have to weigh it: give up a leg or an arm!”

Su Ling quietly watched the young commander. Moments later, she asked, “And you’ll pay with both legs and arms too?”

Ide was slightly taken aback.

Su Ling lowered her eyes. “Last time I did a psychological assessment on Asta… she felt out of place with life now, even though you made her An He’s mentor to keep her busy. Back in her dorm, she always feels life slipping away like sand through her fingers. They haven’t learned—or long abandoned—normal daily life; they can’t imagine a future without fighting. Most Thorn Lamps die by forty; they believe they’ll only die on the battlefield.”

Su Ling sighed softly. “I’m not stopping your counterattack. I just don’t want to see your subordinates treat themselves solely as weapons. So, my words remain: value your lives more. Don’t use you and your team as targets. Try to minimize casualties and sacrifices.”

Su Ling had always had reservations about the Thorn Lamps’ ideology.

“I don’t.” Ide said. “I value them greatly.”

“But the result is the same.” Su Ling said. “Look at An He. When she first entered the Ninth Fortress, she was a blank slate. Now, in training, she disregards injury risks entirely. You might not see it, but she’s taking you and Asta as her spiritual anchors. From now on, she’ll be like you. How you view her life and your own will influence the new young recruits.”

Su Ling raised her head, her profound gaze shifting to the doorway.

Ide jolted slightly, pulling back from the argument. She straightened and looked toward the door crack.

An He stood there, lips slightly parted in surprise, shoulders hunched high as if holding her breath, then slowly dropping. That breath seemed to flow to her hands; she gradually clenched her fists.

Ide quickly averted her gaze, looking down and to the left. The hair on her forehead swayed with the motion.

Ide tugged at her jacket. “I still stand by my principles. I’ll meet invading enemies head-on immediately. When we lie low, so do they—the risks only grow. So from the start, I want enemies to know the price of invading our territory.

“Of course…” Ide’s tone softened. She looked up, suppressing the emotions deep in her eyes as she gazed at Su Ling. “Professor Su, I’ll consider your advice—strive to achieve the most with the least cost. If there’s an emergency… evacuating the civilians will be up to you.”

Su Ling averted Ide’s gaze. She lowered her head, the black hair by her ear silently falling, draping over her glasses. She was silent for a long time, then murmured softly, “Alright. I still trust your strategy. Hopefully, we can weather this crisis together.”

They said no more. The air, thick with tension, gradually eased. They often clashed in opinion, and such scenes played out frequently—even wrap-ups required no extra words of closure or goodwill.

But they were certain the other would heed her advice. After all, they started from the same place.

Su Ling straightened her hair and clothes, then walked calmly out of the office. As she passed An He, Su Ling offered a faint smile, laced with encouragement and a touch of apology.

“Come in.” Ide pulled out a chair and sat, beckoning An He with a wave. “What is it?”

An He unclenched her fists. She drew in a deep breath once more, filling her chest, and only when she exhaled it in a long sigh did she lift her half-lowered gaze.

Those eyes burned with strength and resolve.

She stepped boldly over the threshold and strode toward the commander.