Scourge Messenger

Chapter 318 Chasing
"It is raining again."

At the lookout tower of the Guiding Demon camp, the sentry pulled his raincoat tighter and looked up at the overcast sky. Lightning occasionally ripped through the clouds, and thunder roared like an ancient howl. The sky and the earth were shrouded in a curtain of rain... The camp seemed to have become a lone boat on a vast sea.

"There were golden sunset clouds yesterday, so why is it raining so heavily?" The person next to me was also a little puzzled. Golden sunset clouds are usually followed by a sunny day, and anyone with a little knowledge of astronomy felt that today's weather was a bit unusual.

The old sentry in the watchtower took a puff of his pipe, exhaled a gray smoke ring, and said leisurely, "The murderous aura is soaring to the sky, and the heavens and earth are in turmoil. A large army must be passing by."

"Evil spirit?"

"Every messenger is bound to be menacing," the old sentry tapped his pipe. "Think about it, don't all messengers kill demons in secret realms? The more powerful the messenger, the more demons they kill. But what grudge do the demons hold against the messengers? They stay peacefully in their secret realms, not venturing out to harm people or fight for land, yet the messengers break into their homes and slaughter them wantonly, not just once, but a thousand or ten thousand times. Tell me, how can the demons not harbor resentment?"

"Messengers are full of vitality, and the resentment of demons cannot harm them, but it will eventually entangle the messengers and eventually turn into malevolent energy. Some people die from a single glare from a messenger because their souls are directly destroyed by the messenger's malevolent energy."

"When messengers gather and march, they become a massive, malevolent force that rampages about, stirring up the wind and clouds, naturally causing thunder, lightning, and cataclysmic upheavals. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Ten years ago, when I followed my master south to fight the Liang people, the scene was truly terrifying. Before the battle even began, the earth trembled, the Si River dried up, there were more people on the ground than rain from the sky, and the thunder in the sky was denser than the flags on the ground. Only those who survived that battle can be considered true veterans..."

The old sentry was boasting again about his experience of following the army south ten years ago, but everyone listened with great interest. Anyway, they were just idling around on a rainy day, so they might as well imagine themselves commanding thousands of troops on the battlefield.

When the old sentries recounted the scene of the cavalry charge, everyone seemed to feel the tremors coming from afar, with hundreds of iron cavalry trampling the earth. Faced with a torrent capable of crushing everything, insignificant mortals could only choose to wail or scream...

"Something's not right!" The sentry suddenly turned his head and looked into the distance: "There really are cavalry approaching!"

The alarm bells rang swiftly throughout the camp, and the northern messengers immediately surged onto the camp walls. Some were terrified, some were panicked, some were at a loss, some issued commands to calm the crowd, while others secretly scaled the walls and fled. No one knew who these cavalrymen were or what their purpose was, but that was precisely why they had to be cautious… the unknown is the greatest fear.

Suddenly, a dark figure leaped through the rain. She was completely shrouded in a cloak and the rain further obscured her figure, so the people in the camp couldn't recognize her. They only saw her skim across the Demon Gathering camp, each time she lightly touched the ground, she would leap more than ten steps, like a nimble fox traversing the jungle.

Soon no one paid attention to the shadowy figure's movements, because... the cavalry had arrived!

A burly, bearded general with a long beard stood on the wall and shouted into the rain: "I am Yang Feng, commander of the Jubei Army. This is the Demon Gathering Camp. May I ask which army and garrison you belong to, and what brings you here—"

Among the many powerful clans in the Demon Gathering Camp, Yang Feng held the highest position and was the strongest. As a member of the military garrison system, he naturally took the lead in negotiating. He had assumed the cavalry would stop outside the camp to communicate with them, since regardless of their purpose, there was no need for them to offend the many powerful clans of the North.

Therefore, when the cavalry charged through the rain and crashed directly into the camp walls without hesitation, everyone turned deathly pale. This was not only because of the cavalry's unbridled behavior, but also because they recognized the origin of this cavalry force—

"Moriya Konoe!!!"

Yang Feng collapsed to the ground. This dignified third-rank commander was now so weak in the knees that he didn't even have the strength to run. "I'm doomed... I'm definitely doomed..."

boom! ! !
The wooden fence, strong enough to keep wild beasts at bay, was barely as hard as paper before these heavily armored cavalry. The noble ladies and beautiful women who had just been singing and drinking were trampled by warhorses, the magnificent tents, as opulent as palaces, were pierced and shredded by spears, and precious goods were scattered everywhere. In the blink of an eye, the camp, this paradise, had become a living hell.

Some struggled to escape, but many more knelt on the ground in despair.

Ten years of prestige, ten years of slaughter, ten years of rule had already etched obedience into the hearts of every living person in the North. Compared to resistance, even death seemed gentle.

Clang, clang, clang. The sound of the chariot wheels spinning rapidly on the mountainside was so crisp and loud, yet so terrifying and awe-inspiring. Anyone who was even slightly timid would lose control of their bladder and faint upon hearing this sound, as if the wheels were crushing their hearts.

Eight majestic white-maned steeds emerged from the rain, and a massive chariot, carved with the sun, moon, and stars, entered the Demon Gathering Camp. A beautiful woman in red stood atop the chariot. Her soaked red dress accentuated her breathtakingly beautiful curves, and her shapely, straight thighs were faintly visible beneath the skirt. She wore a veil as thin as a cicada's wing; though her face was hidden, it was even more alluring than if it were.

She wore an extremely vibrant red dress, seemingly becoming the only color in the world. Compared to her unparalleled beauty, everyone else was just a gray speck of dust.

Emperor of Qi, Ying Le.

"Who is in charge of the Demon Gathering Camp?" After a long while, she finally asked this question in a low voice, as if she had just been in a daze, her tone somewhat languid. Everyone looked at Yang Feng, who was slumped on the ground. Yang Feng was at least a third-rank messenger, so he had the strength to crawl to the side of the chariot and kowtow: "This humble general, Yang Feng, awaits Your Majesty's will."

"Have you seen Prince Lanling?" Ying Le asked.

Prince Lanling? Ying Rushi? Because Yang Feng had arrived at the Demon Gathering Camp long ago and communication with the outside world was not very smooth, he naturally had no way of knowing about Ying Rushi's betrayal. He shook his head blankly: "I didn't see it."

puff.

Ying Le suddenly jumped off the chariot, inserted two fingers into Yang Feng's eye sockets, and instantly pierced through the latter's defensive barrier. Yang Feng let out a scream, but Ying Le raised her index finger to her lips, "Don't make a sound, don't move, I'm asking if your eyes saw it. Commander Yang, it's not that I don't believe you, but I trust your eyes more. After all, you're a busybody and might have forgotten."

Yang Feng clearly felt two fingers poking and prodding in his eye sockets. The intense pain triggered a strong vomiting reflex, making him wish he could vomit out his heart, liver, gallbladder, and lungs. Every pore on his body seemed to be screaming and trying to escape, but he managed to control his body and not move, letting Ying Le 'interrogate' his eyes.

When Ying Le withdrew her finger, Yang Feng was like a dog whose spine had been pulled out; he didn't even have the strength to kneel and simply lay on the ground.

“Your eyes tell me,” Ying Le said calmly, rubbing the clot on her fingers, “that you just saw Prince Lanling.”

In a flash, Yang Feng understood something and said in a trembling voice, "Yes, yes, I saw it... She didn't enter the camp, but went around the camp to a deeper place."

"Why didn't you stop her?" Ying Le squatted down, legs together, heels raised, right hand supporting her chin, brows slightly furrowed, revealing a pitiful appearance: "She's entering the Demon Gathering Land now, do you know how much trouble that will cause me?"

Feeling Ying Le's right hand pressing against his head, Yang Feng burst into tears. This burly, bearded general wept uncontrollably, his heart breaking. "Your Majesty, Your Majesty, please, please spare my family..."

However, what befell Yang Feng was not pain or death, but a heart-warming sensation. Yang Feng felt that the pain in his left eye had subsided, and even the fear in his heart had vanished. He looked up at Ying Le, his expression uncertain and surprised: "Your Majesty?"

"Look at you, what are you panicking for? You didn't do anything wrong. It's normal that you couldn't stop the Prince of Lanling who ran so fast," Ying Le laughed.

Yang Feng choked back tears and kowtowed heavily, his heart filled with gratitude as if he had been given a new lease on life: "Thank you for your understanding, Your Majesty!"

Ying Le turned to look at the ruins shrouded in mist: "The Demon Gathering Land... I can't get in, this is a bit of a problem..."

Yang Feng immediately raised his head and volunteered: "Your Majesty, this humble general will personally lead the troops in and surely take the head of the Prince of Lanling!"

“Hey, she’s my only niece, my favorite junior, the pillar of the Ying family’s next generation. What are you thinking?” Ying Le sighed. “Besides, you might not even be able to beat her.”

Just then, several figures appeared at the entrance to the ruins. One of them shouted loudly, "Something terrible has happened in the Demon Gathering Lands... What happened?"

Soon, Ying Le didn't need to do anything. Just by walking up to them, the group of messengers told them everything they knew as quickly as possible, as if a second's delay would mean the difference between life and death.

"Foundation Building Pill...? Bandaged man...? Bandages...?"

Ying Le subconsciously bit her nails, a faint, enigmatic smile curving her lips.

"My niece is having a secret rendezvous with someone. As an elder, of course I should send someone to keep an eye on things, right?"

She reached out and pressed down on Yang Feng's head: "Commander Yang, I remember you seem to have a token that can change the terrain?"

(End of this chapter)