Sword Pointing to the North

An Changqing stepped forward to demand the report, while Long Ao, unable to contain his impatience, reached out from the side and snatched for it.

“Let me see the results right now!”

Yin Chen lifted his head to look at the crowd before them and began reading aloud word by word.

“It has been confirmed: the detection device successfully identified Chen Guan’s DNA on the charred fabric.”

Su Yuehe pressed urgently for more details.

“What else is there?”

Yin Chen glanced at the report and continued reading the remaining conclusions.

“The target completely vanished after enduring a severe impact. No residual life signals were detected at the scene.”

Long Ao stepped forward and snatched the report from Yin Chen’s hands.

“This is pure nonsense!”

He flipped through to the last page, searching for the conclusion.

“What do you mean by ‘completely vanished’? What do you mean by ‘no life signals detected’? If your crappy machines can’t detect anything, just say so. Don’t write some absurd verdict like ‘confirmed death’ on paper!”

The technician staggered backward, terrified that the man might lash out.

“Young Master Long, this is the result automatically generated by the machine. It’s the final judgment from scientific instruments!”

Long Ao slammed the report back against the technician’s chest with such force that the man stumbled two steps.

An Changqing reached out and caught the fluttering report midair. The white pages quickly grew damp at one corner from the rain, but the printed black ink remained crisp and legible.

He stared at that line of conclusion for a long time until Su Yuehe slowly approached him and called softly.

“Changqing.”

An Changqing folded the report shut with a firm motion.

“Keep all personnel here and continue searching.”

Yin Chen looked at him and reminded him again.

“The official death report has already been issued.”

Though he too was reluctant to admit it, Chen Guan was dead—there was no need for further verification.

Resources were already stretched thin, and he had forcibly diverted too many people.

An Changqing raised his head to meet Yin Chen’s gaze, unwavering.

“I said, keep searching here.”

The person in charge frowned and explained with difficulty.

“It’s not that we’re unwilling to try. Every inch of the core ruins has been swept through multiple times with various equipment.”

Long Ao fixed his stare on him without a word. Under the immense pressure, the person in charge wiped his sweat, nodded, and hurried off to comply.

Hong Yuan straightened up from the ground and grabbed her giant axe.

Su Yuehe saw her movement and quickly asked, “Hong Yuan, where are you going?”

Hong Yuan raised her rough palm and wiped the rain from her face.

“I’m going to investigate the Northern Territory’s yao.”

Long Ao rose from the muddy water beside her.

“I’ll go with you.”

An Changqing turned to try and stop them.

But Hong Yuan dodged him, gripping her axe as she looked at him.

“I’m calm right now. I’m not acting on impulse. I know my own strength—I can’t take on the entire massive yao clan yet. So I’m going to hunt for leads first. Once I find out who was behind Chen Guan’s death, I’ll write that name down in my book forever.”

Su Yuehe called out her name in concern.

“Hong Yuan.”

Hong Yuan heaved the heavy axe back onto her shoulder, cold rainwater dripping continuously down the sharp blade.

“This blood debt the yao owe us—I’ve carved it into my memory today. No matter who I find killed Chen Guan, I’ll make sure they pay with blood.”

She didn’t understand the things Yin Chen had said; all she knew was that someone had murdered her friend.

Long Ao strode to her side, his fists clenched tight with bulging veins.

“Count me in on the revenge list.”

An Changqing lowered his head and quietly stared at the cold, clinical report in his hands. After a long pause, he spoke in a low voice.

“Add my name to that list too.”

Yin Chen turned to gaze into the deepest darkness of the ruins. Hong Yuan’s resolve had stirred something within him, and he promised, “The search and rescue here will never stop, and the trail of clues outside will never cease.”

Su Yuehe raised her phone again. “Mother, I need all the intelligence from the council on the yao’s recent abnormal movements.”

A solemn voice came from the other end. “Yuehe, are you sure you want to go through with this?”

Su Yuehe looked at the scorched cloth sealed in a transparent bag.

“Absolutely sure.”

Hong Yuan turned and stepped across the yellow caution tape. Her heavy axe dragged through the muddy, waterlogged ground, carving a long trench of water along the edge of the collapsed ruins of Modu.

She strode forward against the wind and rain.

“It all starts with the yao in the Northern Territory.”

…

Meanwhile, Chen Guan had no idea that the world outside had erupted into a bloody vendetta because his area had no signal.

At this moment, Chen Guan and Guan Jinyue left the Ice Crystal Altar. The giant bear king’s ice sculpture behind them was swallowed once again by the wind and snow. The dark mouth of the cave shrank smaller and smaller in the gray-white landscape until it turned into a blurry shadow.

Guan Jinyue walked ahead, letting her silver hair stream backward in the wind. Her steps were much lighter than when they had arrived. Even the biting Northern wind couldn’t seem to weigh her down today.

Chen Guan glanced at her and casually shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Miss Guan, in a good mood?”

Guan Jinyue raised a hand to tuck back the windblown tips of her hair.

“Mm.”

Chen Guan waited for her to say more, then chuckled.

“Just an ‘mm’?”

Guan Jinyue paused for half a step, pondered seriously for a moment, and then continued walking.

“Xiao Heng is safe now. I can finally focus on taking you to the Ice Sea.”

The black mark on Chen Guan’s right palm radiated a fine, numbing heat in the wind and snow, making his skin flush red.

He slowed his pace. When he closed his eyes and opened them again, the world around him looked completely different in his senses.

The wind was still the wind. The snow was still the snow.

But the few bears hidden behind the ice slopes in the distance were no longer just vague blurs.

Their emotions had colors, weight, temperature, and even distinct scents.

Some emotions carried the brittleness of frozen iron sheets, tinged with stubborn resistance.

Some emotions were mixed with the murky mud of a gutter—resentful, yet too afraid to approach.

And a few very faint emotions trailed far behind, tinged with fear.

Chen Guan raised his right hand and waved it toward the distant wind and snow. Those hidden presences immediately scattered and withdrew.

Guan Jinyue noticed his motion.

“Still someone tailing us?”

“There are some, but they’ve lost the will to fight. They probably just want to know where we’re headed. Still, they don’t dare follow too close.” Chen Guan put his hand back into his pocket.

Guan Jinyue looked up at the pressing gray sky and assumed it was because of the Ice Sea.

“That’s normal. The Ice Sea is a forbidden zone for the Northern yao too. The less they have to walk, the better they like it.”

Chen Guan felt the steadily calming warmth in his palm.

“Before, I could only smell killing intent. Now, I can make out a lot more.”

Baal’s teasing voice echoed in his mind.