Great Wilderness Demon Lord

The jackal prisoners looked at each other, their eyes filled with a mixture of fear, hesitation, struggle, and a burning, deep-seated hatred for the wolf-like tribes.

Finally, an exceptionally thin, elderly jackal with an old wolf claw scar on his face walked out of the crowd, trembling.

He walked to the wooden barrel, his withered hand trembling as he gripped a rusty dagger. Tears welled in his eyes, but a ruthless glint flashed within them.

He staggered to a wolf-like captive who was cursing incessantly, and under the captive's terrified gaze, he closed his eyes and plunged the dagger into his thigh!

"Ah—!" The captured wolf barbarians screamed in agony.

The old jackal pulled out his dagger, staggered backward, looked at the blood on the dagger, and suddenly let out a hoarse howl that was neither a cry nor a laugh, and knelt down on the ground.

Once there's a first, there's a second, a third...

Initially, he was an old man, a disabled person with scars from being abused by the Lang Rong, and the one who harbored the deepest hatred for the Lang Rong.

They were either frantic, numb, or trembling as they delivered that stab.

Gradually, more and more young and strong jackals emerged, their eyes red.

They remembered the pastures that had been taken by the wolf barbarians, their loved ones who had died tragically, and the humiliation and whippings they had suffered as servants in the army.

One slash, two slashes... Each slash was accompanied by the wolf-like screams and curses of the wolf-like people, as well as the suppressed roars and outbursts of the jackals.

The air on the training ground was thick with the stench of blood.

The forty-one captured wolf barbarians initially cursed angrily, but gradually turned into howls and pleas for mercy, until finally all that remained was a bloody mess and death convulsions.

Their bodies were covered with wounds of varying depths, and their blood stained the frozen ground.

When the last young jackal—a boy with a still-childish face but fierce eyes—plunged his dagger into the chest of a wolf-barbarian prisoner who had already fainted, there was no longer a single wolf-barbarian alive in the center of the training ground.

More than three hundred jackals, some standing and some kneeling, were panting, most of them with blood splattered on their hands and bodies.

Looking at the mess in the field, at their own bloodstained hands, their eyes were filled with complex emotions: lingering fear, bewilderment, and a twisted sense of relief.

Xiao Yunlan watched all of this with a completely expressionless face.

Only after the last person finished did he speak again, his voice colder than the wind: "The blood debt has been partially repaid, and the ties have been severed. From this day forward, you remnants of the 'Graytooth' tribe will be vassals of my North Fortress!"

You must obey my orders, abide by my rules, and defend the border and work for me.

I beseech the North Fortress to grant you shelter, to provide you with sustenance, and to free you from your status as slaves!

His gaze, sharp as a knife, swept over every jackal: "Anyone who betrays you will face the same fate as the wolves here today, and your entire clan will meet the same end tomorrow! The blood on your blades will be the mark that forever prevents you from ever joining the wolves again! Remember this day!"

The jackals remained silent, many of them instinctively gripping their blood-stained, crude weapons before slowly releasing them.

The old jackal who had made the first move struggled to his feet and led all the jackals to slowly lower their bodies toward the wooden platform, touching the ground with their foreheads.

There were no cheers, no vows, only a heavy and submissive silence.

This was a conquest more thorough than death, a bond forged with the blood of the wolf-like barbarians and the hands of the jackals themselves.

Xiao Yunlan nodded slightly and said to Zhao Meng, "Take them back to the camp and settle them in a separate area. The able-bodied men who participated in the assassination today will be given an extra ration."

Starting tomorrow, select the strongest and most honest men to form auxiliary troops, who will participate in the repair of the city walls and perimeter security, under the supervision of our men.

"Yes!" Zhao Meng replied solemnly, his gaze towards Xiao Yunlan now filled with a hint of sternness. This move not only completely resolved the issue of the Wolf Rong prisoners, but also transformed these jackal prisoners into "one of our own," bound to the interests of Wangbei Fortress and with Wolf Rong blood on their hands, making any reversal impossible, at least in the short term.

Although the methods are ruthless, in this desolate northern land, perhaps only by doing so can one gain a foothold.

After dealing with the important matter of capturing prisoners, Xiao Yunlan turned to other military affairs.

The orders were clear and concise, and everyone obeyed and went about their business.

Only Xiao Yunlan remained inside the tent. He slowly leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

The intense battles, planning, life-or-death struggles of the past few days, and the ruthless and decisive actions just now have brought on a wave of physical and mental exhaustion.

Especially deep in the dantian.

Now that he had calmed down, he could clearly sense that the "volume" of the four flames seemed to have expanded slightly, and the light was more solid.

The Courageous Demon and the Slaughter Demon convey a sense of satiated languor, yet subtly hint at an anticipation of more battles and bloodshed.

The flames of the Demon of Extreme Passion were stable and intense, reflecting his obsession with "controlling this place and ruling all races," and seemed to be even more active because of his manipulation of people just now.

The demon of indulgence is like an invisible net, seeping into his senses thread by thread. The secret pleasure brought by the power of life and death and the manipulation of people's hearts is like a poisonous vine that quietly entwines him.

He knew that he had taken another solid step forward from the edge of a dangerous abyss.

Demonic thoughts are like parasitic vines; each time they are used, they connect more deeply with one's own soul.

He must be more vigilant.

But right now, there's no time for him to slowly recover.

The siege of Shuofeng Plain was lifted, but it was only the beginning.

He needs to take advantage of this rare respite to quickly restore his strength, reorganize the internal affairs, contact the rear, and at the same time deal with the possible counterattack from the Wolf Rong.

And the centaurs' food...

Thinking of the nine thousand bushels of grain, Xiao Yunlan rubbed his temples. This was no easy task, but it had to be accomplished.

This is not just about credibility, but also about the future. The centaurs are a force to be reckoned with, especially in this turbulent northern land.

He picked up his pen and began writing a long letter to Liu Heyang.

The letter detailed the course and outcome of the battle at Shuofeng Plain, emphasized the crucial role of the Ma people's reinforcements and the agreed-upon food payment, and earnestly requested Liu Heyang and the Xiao family to provide their full assistance in procuring provisions.

At the same time, the current predicament and needs of Wangbeibao were mentioned, and it was hoped that the supply line would be restored as soon as possible.

After finishing writing the letter, Xiao Yunlan was about to call his personal guards to deliver it when he suddenly remembered that Zhenhuang Pass was still under attack by the Langrong. He was afraid that he would not be able to send the letter back to Zhenhuang Pass at the moment. He could only put the letter down and planned to wait until the fighting at Zhenhuang Pass subsided.

Until the guards brought dinner—a bowl of thick meat porridge and a few pieces of roasted dry rations.

He slowly finished eating, feeling the warmth and strength brought by the food gradually returning to his body.

Night fell again, and lights were lit up in the ice city.

With the threat of the wolf barbarian camp gone, even the torches on the city wall seemed brighter.

Xiao Yunlan stepped out of the main tent and strolled through the fortress, which was slowly recovering its vitality.

He saw the craftsmen repairing the city wall diligently laying bricks under the lanterns, saw the patrolling soldiers walking by with their backs straight, and saw the figures in the newly designated jackal vassal camp silently receiving their extra rations for the day, their eyes filled with complex emotions, but the deathly stillness and hostility of the past were gone.

He climbed the bastion.

The cold wind still blows, but looking north, the once suffocating riverbank where the Wolf Rong camp was stationed is now just a charred scar and a vast snowfield.

Temporary stability and new vassals are just the beginning.

But he knew that beneath the calm surface, the undercurrents never ceased to surge. The threat of the Wolf Barbarians remained, the corrosive influence of demonic thoughts was ever-present, internal weaknesses desperately needed to be addressed, and external promises needed to be fulfilled…

The road ahead is still full of thorns.

However, at least tonight, the soldiers and civilians of Wangbeibao can get a relatively peaceful night's sleep.