Chapter Five: The Plague Beasts

As a transmigrator, Du Huaishan couldn’t help but be moved by the scene before him, his heart growing heavy with melancholy.

The gun salute was completed.

Chang Sui’an’s scarlet double pupils swept away their somberness, now gleaming with a wild, beast-like light. “Old Liu, send a signal flare to notify the rear regimental headquarters. The rest of you, begin searching the battlefield!”

“Yes, sir!”

The execution of orders by the second platoon’s soldiers was impressive; at the command, they all dismounted and set to work.

The tall Old Liu fetched something like a grenade launcher from the sidecar of his motorcycle, loaded a large round retrieved from his belt, and fired. With a bang, a dazzling yellow flare shot up, trailing a long plume of smoke as it rose into the twilight, its brilliance unmistakable.

After scanning the traces of battle, Chang Sui’an approached Du Huaishan.

“Did you kill the hybrid demon here?”

“No, it was about a hundred meters from here.”

“Show me.”

Chang Sui’an’s tone was calm, but the oppressive aura exuded by his double pupils made it impossible to consider defying him.

Du Huaishan casually pointed the way.

Their horses galloped a couple dozen steps, bringing everyone to the spot where he had fought the four-horned demon to the death.

First, they saw the monster’s charred remains, then the bodies of two soldiers laid neatly on the grass, their appearances carefully arranged.

That must have been the boy’s doing.

Chang Sui’an’s eyes betrayed the faintest flicker of emotion, though his face remained impassive. “Can you summon your guardian spirit?”

I knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

Du Huaishan muttered inwardly, relieved he hadn’t chosen to lie. With Chang Sui’an’s years of battlefield experience, the evidence was all too clear—one could guess what had transpired from a few clues. Any inconsistency would be impossible to explain.

With a single thought, ripples spread behind Du Huaishan as black mist billowed forth; the four-horned demon stepped out, hooves pounding.

Even in its ghostly form, the spirit’s imposing size—over three meters tall, its tiger-like claws as thick as a human waist, its goat’s head twisted in a disturbing grin—remained terrifying.

“Calamity level: Monster, eleven! Not only a hybrid, but a toxic plague type!”

Though Yan Xiaoman had already heard Du Huaishan’s description, seeing the beast in person made her eyes widen with shock.

“The ancient plague beast—where it appears, pestilence follows, bringing disaster to the nation.”

Chang Sui’an’s face was grim, as though a taut string was pulled tight in his heart. “The garrison at Xintun City is poorly equipped, only a single infantry company. It would be nearly impossible for them to handle such a hybrid; once infected by plague, survival chances plummet. Fortunately, it hasn’t eaten much, and its size is relatively small.”

Relatively small?

Du Huaishan glanced at his own guardian spirit, mind racing with images of even larger demon beasts, and shuddered.

But what unsettled him most was Yan Xiaoman’s claim that the demon carried plague.

Thank goodness he hadn’t been scratched by its claws!

“It wasn’t easy for you to kill it,” Chang Sui’an finally said, turning his gaze to the youth before him—no more than fifteen or sixteen, so calm, so bold, and yet so compassionate. “Have you trained before?”

Du Huaishan let the apparition fade. “Three years of freestyle fighting and weapons practice.”

Modern Sanda only began to take shape in the 1980s; in the Republic era, similar forms of combat were known as Sanshou.

“No wonder. Well done.”

Chang Sui’an nodded twice, about to say more when Yan Xiaoman abruptly raised a hand in warning. “Lieutenant, signal flare from the first platoon! Green!”

“Finally, some good news!” Chang Sui’an looked toward the distant sky, where a green flare glowed.

Military signal flares came in four colors: red, yellow, green, and white. Green meant they had successfully rendezvoused with the refugee convoy from Xintun City.

Dusk deepened.

Back at the mountain of corpses, the second platoon’s soldiers were still picking through weapons and cloth armor. As for the bodies—too mangled to be collected—they could only be separated as best as possible.

Forty minutes after the yellow signal flare was fired, several beams of white light appeared in the distance. The hum of engines grew, and five large army-green transport trucks, three open-topped military vehicles, and a dozen cavalrymen arrived at the edge of the battlefield.

The doors swung open and out stepped a burly, stubbly officer in armor.

He was an old acquaintance of Chang Sui’an. The two exchanged greetings, relayed the situation, and at the fat officer’s command, more soldiers filed out of the transport trucks to begin moving weapons and bodies.

The familiarity with which the transport troops wrapped bodies in white cloth and loaded them onto trucks spoke of experience; such carnage was nothing new to them.

No one gagged at the blood and brains smeared on their uniforms, nor did anyone show sorrow.

A head rolled to the ground; a soldier picked it up without a word, wrapping it with the rest.

In this chaotic world, life was as cheap as grass.

Night fell, moonless and black.

The battlefield was soon cleared, save for the overturned transport trucks that couldn’t be moved. Only a sea of blood and scraps of flesh clinging to grass stalks remained.

When the wind blew, if not for the acrid stench of blood, Du Huaishan would never have believed that hundreds, perhaps thousands, of corpses had lain here just moments before.

Whoosh!

Suddenly, a streak of light tore across the night sky.

Chang Sui’an looked up, his expression turning grave.

“Red flare! It’s from the third platoon—they’re in trouble!”

A second-platoon cavalryman shouted instinctively.

“Recon Second Platoon, prepare for action!”

“Yes, sir!”

One moment, everyone was gathered by the transport trucks; the next, at Chang Sui’an’s command, the soldiers were mounting up and boarding vehicles, ready in an instant.

As a cavalry reconnaissance regiment, their primary task was scouting and support.

The chestnut Da Yuan horses pawed the ground, eager to run. Chang Sui’an tightened his reins, glanced back at the fat officer, and called, “Old Zhang, I’ll leave the boy with you!”

“Don’t worry!” Fat Zhang replied, pursing his lips.

“Move out!”

At the response, Chang Sui’an wasted no time—he squeezed his mount’s flanks and shouted, his voice carrying.

Engines roared, hooves thundered; the entire recon platoon charged like a great python, weaving in an S-shape around the blood-soaked earth toward the source of the red flare.

“Tonight, peace will be hard to come by...” Fat Zhang sighed as he watched the cavalry disappear into the night. He waved to start the transport convoy, then turned and said, “Come, get in the truck with me!”

Du Huaishan nodded, glancing at the black-and-white license plate reading “Feng, 23” before climbing aboard the open-topped military vehicle with him.

Comfort was not to be expected in a vehicle of this era.

The military truck sped through the night forest; sitting in the back, Du Huaishan felt every jolt and clatter, the machine rattling like a bicycle about to fall apart.

All the while, his gaze lingered on the direction Chang Sui’an had gone.

In the pitch-black distance, faint colored lights flickered—what exactly was happening out there, he could not tell.

Bang, bang, bang!

Suddenly, a series of urgent vibrations came from the right side of the convoy—something heavy was rushing toward them.

“Sergeant Zhang, there’s a demon approaching from the east!”

A scout immediately slowed to ride alongside the truck, shouting the warning.

“Tell the convoy to accelerate—head straight for Fenghou City.”

Fat Zhang narrowed his eyes, swung up a machine gun from his hip, and stared coldly toward the approaching threat.

“Well, little brother, looks like we won’t be having a quiet night either!”