The morning light completely dispelled the night, exposing every detail of the valley to the pale sunlight.
The aftermath of the battle was far more grueso than what they had perceived in the darkness.
Shattered alloy barricades were twisted and deford, covered in a mix of dark red and dark gold bloodstains.
There was hardly an intact patch of ground to be seen; it was riddled with claw marks, deep craters, scorched-black burn marks, and vast pools of half-congealed blood.
The corpses of Blade-toothed Beasts and the Red Fang Commander were strewn about, mixed in with the bodies of several human Martial Artists. The air was thick with the cloying stench of blood and the unique, foul odor of the Star Beasts.
Xu Wuyi stood where he was, spear in hand, silently gazing at the scene.
His black training clothes were torn in several new places and covered in dust and blood, though most of it belonged to the Star Beasts.
Sweat mingled with specks of splattered blood at his temples and slid down his cheek. He wiped it away, his movents sowhat stiff.
The relief of survival and the heavy weight of the tragic scene intertwined, pressing down on his heart.
"All units, headcount! Rescue the injured! Logistics team, move in now!"
A loud yet hoarse command shattered the battlefield’s brief, deathly silence.
The sound of heavy, rhythmic footsteps echoed from the valley entrance.
Squad after squad of soldiers in dark gray combat fatigues, wearing the armbands of the Dongjiang Defense Corps, jogged into the battle zone.
They were well-trained, quickly splitting into several groups:
dics carrying stretchers and first-aid kits rushed toward the fallen.
Engineers began to inspect and reinforce the remaining fortifications.
A specialized recovery team started processing the Star Beast corpses, cutting up and packaging any parts that were still of value.
The official forces of order began to take control of the land, which had just been plunged into bloody chaos.
Tang Xiuqi didn’t leave imdiately. He stood his ground, his gaze sweeping over the bodies of his comrades as they were being collected, his eyes as silent as a deep pool.
His fourth senior brother stayed close by his side. His vigilance had not faded, but his gaze was fixed on his eldest senior brother with worry.
Supported by a soldier, Vice Minister Li limped over. His left shoulder was thickly bandaged, with blood seeping through. He had a few scratches on his face, but he seed to be in decent spirits.
He ca to stand before Tang Xiuqi and solemnly cupped his fist in a salute. His voice was hoarse. "Thank you, Martial Artist Tang, for your tily assistance. Otherwise... the consequences would have been unimaginable."
Tang Xiuqi gave a slight nod, his voice calm and even. "It was my duty. Minister Li, how are your injuries?"
"Just a flesh wound. Nothing serious." Vice Minister Li shook his head, then looked worriedly toward the rift, which had been temporarily restrained by the Rune Sword Qi but was still faintly twisting and shrinking. "This rift..."
"I’ve temporarily halted its expansion, but the root of the problem hasn’t been dealt with. It still needs to be reinforced," said Tang Xiuqi. "The Defense Corps’ Space Stabilizers should be here soon. In conjunction with a Rune Array, they can re-anchor the rift and gradually close it."
As if to confirm his words, the low drone of engines rumbled in the sky.
Three dium-sized transport shuttles, painted military green, skimd over the mountain ridge and slowly descended into a designated zone.
The hatches opened. More soldiers poured out, simultaneously unloading complex tal instrunts that pulsed with a faint blue light.
The lead officer hurried over to Vice Minister Li, saluted, and gave his report.
Soon, the devices known as Space Stabilizers were set up at specific points around the rift, and the soldiers, along with the accompanying technicians, began the tense work of calibrating them.
Tang Xiuqi did not involve himself in the proceedings. He walked over to a relatively clean, open area, sat down cross-legged, and closed his eyes to regulate his breathing.
His fourth senior brother stood guard two paces away, like the most loyal of protectors.
Xu Wuyi put away his long spear, re-wrapping it in its cloth case.
He didn’t approach the core area. Instead, he started walking back along the Zone B3 defensive line, his gaze searching through the bustling crowd and the bodies on the ground.
He saw Zhao Tie.
The bald, middle-aged man was sitting on a rock, letting a dic clean and stitch a gash on his arm so deep the bone was visible.
He was gritting his teeth, veins bulging on his forehead, but he didn’t make a sound.
When he saw Xu Wuyi approaching, he tried to grin, but the movent pulled at a cut on his face, twisting his features in pain.
"Captain Xu... good to see you’re okay," Zhao Tie said, his voice hoarse.
"How are you?" Xu Wuyi asked.
"I’ll live." Zhao Tie hissed, watching the dic tie off the last stitch.
"Damn, the claws on these bastards are sharp... The younger Wu brother is gone. Gutted by a Commander. Old Chen ran out of arrows, grabbed a saber, and charged in. He lost an arm, but we saved him."
"Lin Wei’s spine is injured. I’m afraid... things will be tough for her from now on. Of the three rookies, Xiao Wang didn’t make it."
His tone was flat, almost emotionless, yet every word seed to be soaked in blood, heavy and grim.
Xu Wuyi nodded in silence.
He rembered the younger Wu brother, the one with the saber. He hadn’t been much of a talker, but his blade had been steady.
And he rembered Xiao Wang, on his first mission, face pale but still desperately clutching his weapon.
The Federation had many Social Martial Artists. So had graduated from Ordinary Martial Arts Universities, while others had never even been accepted into one.
But they still walked the path of Martial Arts. Beneath the Federation’s veneer of peace and stability, any place could beco a battlefield.
And it was these countless ordinary people, these ordinary Martial Artists, who held up the vast Federation.
"Captain Xu." Zhao Tie looked up, his bloodshot eyes fixed on Xu Wuyi. "If it weren’t for you today, our squad... we might have all been wiped out. I, Zhao Tie, owe you my life."
Xu Wuyi shook his head. "Everyone deserves credit for holding the defensive line."
He said no more, patting Zhao Tie’s uninjured shoulder before walking on.
He saw the elder Wu brother.
The quiet man was kneeling before a body covered by a white sheet, his back ramrod straight. He was motionless, as if he had turned to stone.
Xu Wuyi walked past without disturbing him.
One by one, survivors were either helped to their feet or carried on stretchers to a makeshift dical station at the rear.
Groans, suppressed sobs, and the urgent shouts of dical personnel all mingled together.
Xu Wuyi’s heart sank a little more.
He quickened his pace, his gaze searching more urgently.
Finally, in an open space near the temporary command post, he saw two familiar figures.
Wang Wenhai was leaning against an ammo box, his shirt stripped to the waist, revealing a lean, powerful torso.
There was a grueso laceration under his right ribs, the flesh peeled back to reveal the bone. Zhou Yun was kneeling in front of him, carefully cleaning the wound with an antiseptic solution.
Her own left arm was in a sling, and a gauze patch was taped to her forehead. Her face was pale, but her hands moved with steady speed.
Wang Wenhai grimaced, his forehead beaded with cold sweat, but he still tried to act tough. "Easy, easy... Teacher Zhou, your touch is rougher than a Blade-toothed Beast’s claws..."
Zhou Yun ignored him, simply pressing the antiseptic-soaked cotton swab down a little harder.
"HSSS—!" Wang Wenhai sucked in a sharp breath.
"Serves you right," Zhou Yun said coldly. "What made you think you could take a direct charge from that Commander? Think you’re still twenty?"
"It was an ergency..." Wang Wenhai muttered. He looked up and saw Xu Wuyi walking over. His eyes instantly lit up, and he forgot all about the pain. "Ah Yi! Over here!"
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