Galock gawked, growing agitated when he recognized the figure. He didn't know whether his eyes were playing tricks on him or if the war had finally gotten to him.
Those around him wore the same expression, then he realized it wasn't just him; he wasn't imagining things—it was really him!
The battleground suddenly fell silent!
When the enemies completely retreated, the shadow materialized, revealing a young boy with blood-red eyes, clad in fitted red robes and long, curly red hair that caught everyone's attention.
The other thing that made them wide-eyed and horrified was the three-pronged spear, bathing in red light and radiating a brilliant presence. At a glance they all knew it was a unique treasure—and a powerful one at that—in the hands of a kid, no less.
The sight seemed to have inflamed the enemy camp; they erupted in extreme anger but didn't advance, waiting for their leader's command.
The enemy camp warriors with Silver Realm strength had already withdrawn tens of meters when they saw their 'forces' retreating. The pressure they had to bear was immense; retreat was their only option.
It was then that they realized they were truly no match for the opposing force without their aide's support.
Galock was shocked by the young boy's demeanor; comparing it to how he had been two months earlier left him bewildered. As a mid-stage Silver Realm cultivator, he felt the suppressive energy from both the kid and, especially, the trident.
It was unlike anything he had ever seen.
Galock quickly ran toward the boy, but the enemy camp thought he had made a huge mistake, while some smirked with baffled expressions as they, too, came closer.
They quickly gathered around the kid!
On closer inspection, everyone soon recognized him. He was the same person they had been searching for, whose image had been relentlessly distributed across so many territories.
This left everyone confused, and both commanders were at a loss.
In less than five minutes they had watched more than a hundred bodies fall; how could the person they recognized be responsible?
If not for the fact that they had seen it with their own eyes, they might never have believed it. They suddenly fell silent, as if defeated.
"Who is disrupting the battle, and why are the warriors retreating?" Jagan, the leader of Bland Town roared in anger when he saw the retreating warriors. He was about to send out the town's main force and the reinforcements en masse when that happened.
A vein couldn't help popping on his forehead. He had already received approval to deploy the main troops, but the derailing news stopped him.
"No matter how much they try, this war is ours. We're not just fighting to reduce their numbers anymore; we will obliterate their entire army and plaster the shame on their faces." Jagan suddenly erupted in rage as he thought about the message his messenger had brought back the last time.
"Deploy the troops. Their end is near!" He shouted sternly as he strode briskly out from under the large shelter.
___
Inside a tree house within Bland Town...
"tsk..tsk..tsk.." the rough-faced man spat in disgust, clicking his tongue as he looked at the chaotic warriors who had lost all situational awareness. He could see that the assailant was only a Bronze Realm stage-1 warrior.
How could they be so troubled?!
They had been utterly useless in battle. He started to blame the elders for sending him here and even for giving them support. Nonetheless, he knew this was only a small part of a tremendous scheme.
Although he had been taken aback by the abrupt interference, he wasn't shaken in the least. A Bronze Realm cultivator was just a Bronze Realm cultivator; a single slap from him was all that was needed.
"Who is he?" Though he wasn't perturbed, he still had to ask.
Looking closely, the whisky-haired man's eyes flashed with uncertainty, then a serious, doubtful expression settled over his face as he spoke through gritted teeth.
"It's him!" he muttered, his voice trembling with disbelief. "That's the boy you asked us to look for… it's the commander's missing son!" He almost shouted the words between ragged breaths.
He was utterly stunned.
They had sent men at once to hunt for the kid when the message came that he'd gone missing; if they found him, he would be their sole bargaining chip against one of Sand-Scale commanders and their chance to finish him for good.
The boy was feeble, crippled in the legs, the places such a kid could go were few! They had also reported the matter to the rough-faced man and earned his approval.
Before long, the hunt had ballooned into a full-blown manhunt, only for them to find nothing at last.
The rough‑faced man's eyes couldn't help narrowing when he noticed something, before mulling to himself.
If I'm not mistaken, that's a secret weapon in that boy's hand. Only a secret weapon could spread such a majestic aura. Even I feel somewhat suppressed before it. The kid is really something… far too strange. Where did he get that? There's no way I'm letting it go. His eyes gleamed with a predatory sharpness.
Not to mention, very few cultivators could recognize a secret weapon—certainly not these low‑level warriors across the battlefield. To them, it was nothing more than an unusual treasure. But to him, the aura was unmistakable, that was a presence that only a true secret weapon could exude.
"Is that so?" the rough-faced man finally answered the whisky-haired man. "Anyway, it isn't important for now, but if there's a chance, bring him back; if not, kill him. Relay this to the others." he said in a commanding tone, fixing his gaze on the glowing trident.
Even with the alluring effect of the trident, he dared not interfere in the war personally, lest he incur the wrath of the Settlers. There was nothing he could do but remain still and issue instructions from his position.
"Got it." the whisky-haired man quickly went back to find the others.
The rough‑faced man laughed inexplicably and suddenly felt grateful that he had been sent here. Although he distasted it before, but with that weapon in sight, it was all worth it.
___
Atop one of the towering trees that surrounded the battlefield, a lone figure stood, her posture elegant yet restless.
Time seemed to have worn her patience thin, and boredom began to irk her. But suddenly, her eyes brightened, as if they had caught sight of something intriguing. A cold yet soft laugh slipped from her lips, curling into the air like an extinguished flame.
"Hmm… finally, something worthwhile." she said, and waved her hand to clear the leaves. "Nice movement technique, precise attack cognition. Good calculation. Swift strikes, every stab meant to kill.
"Although crude, it can be improved. With time, it will sharpen into perfection. This is just what the organization needs." Her grin widened, her curvaceous form outlined against the cover, before a cold expression swiftly replaced it.
"I didn't expect to find such a promising kid in this barren land. This venture outside the organization pays off well." She nodded her head with deep resolve.
She believed this discovery could atone for her sins and was a chance to redeem herself. To bring in such talent would be a great achievement. And for that, she was willing to do anything. It was her only ticket to return, and she would seize it without hesitation.
___
The battle sprang on with the engagement of Bland Town's main force. The air grew heavy; each breath strained under the punishing blaze of the midday sun. At its peak, the scorching sun poured down its merciless warmth upon the warriors of the region.
The battlefield continued to boil with chaos; every fighter locked against another.
The gravity of the battle multiplied, as some clashed in groups, others fighting alone. The clang of weapons rang out endlessly, sounding like a chorus of pain, and desire.
Within a corner of the battleground, a young guy lifted his head, sweat mingling with streaks of blood as it slid down his face. He had kept Ballock away from the fight, as he was uncertain if he could protect him.
That was his first time stepping into war, and though he didn't understand why, he seemed to love it. The battle appeared to have stirred something deep within him. It felt as though a hidden part of himself, long segmented, had now stirred to life!