Chapter 35: Ninth Fortress

Nightfall came swiftly.

The weather that day was foul. A fierce gale whipped across the Wasteland, and before five o’clock, the entire horizon was shrouded in a blanket of gray cumulonimbus clouds. Sunlight vanished completely.

In this oppressive gloom, the Swamp behind them seemed to awaken, revealing its true face.

The mud came alive, bubbling up with tiny blisters that burst open, as if something were about to claw its way out of the earth. The erratic sounds set everyone’s nerves on edge, stretched taut.

Darkness stirred too. A stench-filled fog slithered forward on phantom legs, carrying massive, indistinct shadows in its wake. The gale churned the mist into roiling waves but could not dispel it. Shapes flickered vaguely within—impossible to gauge how many monsters lurked in the Black Fog.

Little Bit had completely shed her brash attitude, shrinking unconsciously into Heli’s arms.

The young ones always had the wildest imaginations. When the Black Fog merged with the horizon’s thunderheads and lightning flashed within the clouds, she pictured doomsday devils about to descend.

But the rain never fell.

Everyone sprawled flat on the ground, donning raincoats as Gu Xianqing had ordered.

Within sight, only Gu Xianqing hadn’t changed her gear. She stood fearlessly by her motorcycle, her simply tied hair whipping in the wind, sleeves billowing—untouched by the chaos.

Compared to the afternoon, she carried more equipment.

A rifle slung across her back, a brown single-shoulder pauldron added to her left side, secured by leather straps over her chest and underarm. It wasn’t for show; pouches held a flashlight and whistle.

A bronze telescope hung around her neck. Right now, Gu Xianqing raised it, scanning the distant horizon.

When full night descended, two artificial beams—not native to the Wasteland—pierced the horizon.

First came the headlights of an armored vehicle slicing through the fog, followed by a long convoy with white lights flickering in its wake.

The column stretched endlessly, vehicles hugging the Swamp’s edge. The foul weather had slowed their pace.

Gu Xianqing lowered the telescope, a smile curling her lips. She murmured a quiet welcome to the far-traveled “guests.”

“Welcome to the Wasteland.”

This land was forever full of surprises and variables. Shifting weather, unknown foes—it always caught you off guard. That was the Wasteland’s allure.

She swung gracefully onto her motorcycle and signaled her crew with a glance back. “Get ready. Follow my orders later.”

Her steady tone banished fear, instilling uncanny calm. Little Bit wriggled free from Heli’s protection and yelled at Gu Xianqing’s back, “No problem, big sis!”

Everyone grabbed weapons, checked magazines and spare ammo, chambered rounds. They paired off, Targeting southeast, northwest—every direction.

Gu Xianqing revved into the Swamp. Moments later, her figure vanished into the fog.

Soon, Yan Qiong, resting nearby, mounted another bike and headed the opposite way, into the endless gravel flats.

Fifteen minutes later, eerie noises erupted from the Swamp—infant wails like dog barks, whistling bursts. Only when the sounds rushed close did Little Bit realize the whistle came from Gu Xianqing.

Gu Xianqing was back!

Little Bit’s eyes widened. The Swamp daredevil emerged methodically from the Black Fog, speeding toward them.

Over the past half-month, Little Bit had heard Heli’s tales of the Red-Clothed Apostle. She wasn’t religious—Gu Xianqing was their big sis, not some god’s envoy.

But now, Little Bit bought Heli’s line. Gu Xianqing, parting the fog and gliding across the Swamp like solid ground, seemed god-empowered!

She gripped the handlebar one-handed, body low—not even fully on the seat—legs braced for instant evasion.

Her free hand flashed a flashlight at the fog behind. Her whistle emitted steady bursts.

In the light’s brief strobes, everyone gasped—countless grotesque, massive shadows lurked close, chasing her!

In an instant, demons unleashed: the Black Fog swallowed the shadows, only for light to reveal them again, doggedly pursuing the tiny figure on the bike.

But Gu Xianqing stayed cool. Her smile faded, yet her arched brows betrayed total control.

She powered the motorcycle at full throttle, steady through the Swamp.

At the edge, the lured Radiated Creatures suddenly slowed.

Gu Xianqing anticipated it. She wrenched the bike away from the prone group, straight for the First Fortress convoy.

Passing them, she hissed low and firm: “Fire.”

Gunfire erupted, swallowed by the wails and barks—barely noticeable.

Bullets sprayed wildly at the Radiated Creatures. No need for precision; they weren’t aiming to kill. Quite the opposite—Gu Xianqing didn’t want vital hits.

The barrage enraged them. They surged from the Swamp, ten times faster, barreling over the sand boundary toward the shooters.

Heli’s radio crackled with Gu Xianqing’s voice: “Cease fire.”

Cease now? The order baffled them—wasn’t this suicide?

Then a three-man-high monster charged Little Bit and Heli. Hearts skipped; for a split second, they thought Gu Xianqing had betrayed them.

But a shrill whistle pierced the air. A pinpoint bullet whistled overhead, cracking the creature’s jaw. Gu Xianqing’s shot.

Simultaneously, distant convoy lights swept over. A gasoline bomb launched from a vehicle roof, slamming a mountain-sized shadow—the First Fortress’s doing. They hadn’t closed in yet, but remote fire.

The Radiated Creatures’ racket alerted the convoy, blocking their path dead-on.

Perfect timing. Lights and whistles drew every one; they pivoted en masse.

Gu Xianqing radioed softly: “Their vision’s degraded. They navigate by sound and light. Stay silent.”

Indeed, the silent group lost their appeal.

A brighter target beckoned: the convoy. The Radiated Creatures veered, charging without hesitation.

Chaos bloomed in the distant column. Humans in the dark facing unknown assault first shone lights to reveal the foe. The convoy bathed the Radiated Creatures in beams.

Just as Gu Xianqing planned. The glare maddened them, aggression peaking.

Gu Xianqing ghosted through shadows, whistling on—the pitch mimicking their cries, luring pursuit while confusing the First Fortress legion.

The whistles darted left, right—untraceable.

As Radiated Creatures closed in, they fixated on the lit-up prey. Goaded by lights, countless ones rampaged toward the bewildered legion.

By then, the disaster-diverting Gu Xianqing had vanished.

Moments later, Heli’s radio buzzed: “Team One’s done. Hide well and enjoy the show.”

Her voice lilted with undisguised glee.

Under her lead, they shifted quietly to new cover behind distant hills—no talk, no lights.

Little Bit hunkered excitedly, heart pounding. Too extreme! Way more thrilling than any brawl she’d fought.

She’d thought death imminent moments ago, but Gu Xianqing kept her promise, shielded them, and staged an epic chase. Big sis for real!

Little Bit stowed her gun, pulled her mini night-vision scope, and aimed afar.

Just the appetizer. Behind the convoy, new trouble stirred silently.

Yan Qiong—the hunched, frail-looking grandma—unfurled, tearing across the Wasteland. Amid engine roars and shrieks, she gunned her bike, a black tide of Bone Eaters hot on her tail, nearly nipping her tires.

Her side’s lurkers fired sporadic shots per orders—the hits just riled the Bone Eaters.

Unlike Radiated Creatures, these moved eerily quiet, ghosting through night toward the First Fortress convoy. Bone legs churned sand, murder in the air.

The convoy was pincered front and rear!

Little Bit stifled a gasp, scoping it: Gu Xianqing now flanked Yan Qiong.

Like Wasteland shepherds, they herded monstrous flocks to one pen, flitting unscathed amid the crush—as if all under control.

Could mortals pull this off?

Little Bit nearly yelped.

Heli beside her reeled too.

She’d heard how long Gu Xianqing roamed the Wasteland: four years.

Not long. But perils everywhere—a misstep meant death. Maybe that’s what forged a Wasteland queen.

Gu Xianqing wasn’t God’s pet. Her clean clothes belied scarred leather belts, boot edges gashed deep—marks of constant battle.

Her moves were honed instinct, thousand-tempered skill.

Her knowledge dwarfed others: Radiated Creatures’ traits, terrain mastery, all at her fingertips.

Deadliest: her sharp, meticulous mind. She strung tiny steps like flawless pearls into an iron trap, goading the prey inside.

Every step spot-on, her alone grasping the full board.

Red-Clothed Apostle power? No—this was power she’d forged herself!

As they watched breathless, Radiated Creatures and Bone Eaters closed on the First Fortress legion.

Realizing the sudden pincer, the slumbering Wasteland awoke to thunderous artillery.

First Fortress unleashed hell! Monsters struck back.

The long-brewed deluge finally crashed down—bean-sized drops, weakly acidic, corroding the land.

Rain beaded on coats, a few splashing Little Bit’s skin. She wiped them off indifferently; this sting was nothing to Bone Erosion Disease.

Through the curtain, Little Bit saw Gu Xianqing and Yan Qiong had circled far from the fray with their teams, rendezvousing here.

Reunited, Gu Xianqing wasted no words on retreat.

She just crouched silently on the gravel, telescope up, scanning the distant battle. Her index finger tweaked the focus wheel, zooming.

For First Fortress, the ambush and storm was utter surprise.

For Gu Xianqing, mere prelude to intel-gathering. No one knew yet: she never aimed to rack up their casualties. Not the point.

The point: force the legion to fight back. Only then could she gauge their strength—and “gift” An He the intel.

That was her goal.

The night stretched long. The Wasteland hunters’ tale had just begun.