Chapter Fifty-Four: The Approaching Storm

These terrifyingly shaped creatures had inherited the bloodthirsty nature of that unknown beast entirely within their genes, and from birth, they craved nothing but blood. Driven by hunger, they swarmed frantically out of their lair, surging toward the plains below like a tidal wave.

A chilling, rasping sound echoed incessantly through the air...

There, they vaguely caught the scent of something that made their very bones tremble with excitement.

...

Ning Kingdom lay at the northernmost edge of the Li Dynasty—its entire territory scarcely the size of a five-cent coin, an utterly unremarkable borderland nation. Strictly speaking, it had once been under Li’s rule; during the reign of Li the Third, soldiers had even been dispatched to garrison the region. But after his reign, subsequent emperors considered the place a bitterly cold wasteland unfit for habitation, and it was so far from the heart of the dynasty that it was little more than an afterthought. Over time, it became a place of exile for the most vicious criminals.

Later still, the rulers of the Li Dynasty simply seceded the land, selling it to northern migrant traders—thus was born the predecessor of Ning Kingdom.

Regardless, nothing could alter the fact that this little border nation was as ordinary as could be.

Ning had stood for more than a hundred years, yet its population still had not broken the ten-thousand mark. Ironically, this very scarcity bound its people together with uncommon unity. Hardened by the harsh cold, both men and women were taught to wield weapons from childhood; their customs and their martial prowess alike were unmatched, ranking them among the fiercest of all the northern small states.

Now, in the capital of Ning Kingdom, within a certain residence, pinpricks of light flickered.

“Father, this Hanging Dawn is truly marvelous—it really can dispel darkness, flooding a pitch-black room with daylight. No wonder it’s impossible to buy on the market, no matter how much money one has. For the Emperor of Li to gift such a thing to you, he must hold you in high regard.”

Ning Xia, the only son of the king of Ning, gazed in wonder at the glowing object in his hand, no larger than a fist. The rulers of Li called these treasures Hanging Dawns—a fitting name, for suspended in the hand, they shone as brightly as daybreak.

“Though it’s a fine gift in every sense, I can’t help but feel aggrieved,” Ning Zhan replied, his expression unmoved, devoid of joy. Instead, he sighed deeply and sank heavily into a simple wicker chair.

“Oh? Is it the sacred flame that fell upon the Li Dynasty, long ago, that you cannot accept?” Ning Xia arched an eyebrow.

“My son, you are truly perceptive—one glance and you see the truth. You are destined for greatness.” Ning Zhan nodded. “I have ruled as king of Ning for eight years now. In all that time, has there been a single day when I did not do my utmost? A day when I shirked labor or duty? Every day, I have thought only of how to strengthen and enrich our nation. So why is fate so blind? Why did such a holy thing fall not to us, but into the hands of Li’s dissolute twenty-seventh ruler? I cannot accept it...

“If only we could possess such a miraculous object, the prosperity of Ning would be within reach.”

Ning Zhan’s voice was heavy with resentment.

“I think, Father, that you needn’t take it so hard,” Ning Xia replied, shaking his head. “Imagine if that thing from the heavens had really fallen within our borders—would there even be a Ning Kingdom left? I’ve heard the thing was vast as hundreds of thousands of acres of farmland, boundless as a blazing furnace, and when it crashed, it vaporized everything for miles around in an instant!”

“My son, you remind me—indeed, had such a thing fallen here, Ning would have been wiped out completely,” Ning Zhan agreed, patting his son’s shoulder.

“Your Majesty, urgent news!”

As they spoke, a hurried shout came from outside the door.

“What’s this commotion? Come in and speak,” Ning Zhan said, his face darkening.

“Terrible news, Your Majesty—an enemy attack! We’re under attack!”

A young city scout burst in, pale with terror.

“What? An enemy attack? Is it that bastard Sun Feng and his lot, daring to raid us? They’ll learn soon enough the mettle of Ning’s men!” Ning Zhan slammed the table and leapt to his feet, anger flaring.

Despite his fury, he was not truly alarmed. The people of Ning valued strength above all; unless the Li Dynasty itself sent an army, all other threats were mere paper tigers. Besides, to start a war during the Eternal Night—such folly was almost unthinkable.

“Your Majesty, it’s not Sun Feng—they’re... they’re...”

“Not Sun Feng? Then who? Speak quickly.”

“I don’t even know what they are, Your Majesty. They move so fast—I didn’t see them clearly. The city guards were snatched into the darkness in an instant...”

“What evil is this?!” Ning Zhan was stunned, an ominous dread rising in his heart. He recalled a terrifying legend: after the Eternal Night, horrors would emerge from the darkness—a warning left by the Sage Master of old. But after so many years of peace, people had dismissed it as mere myth; with the Li Dynasty’s sacred flame, the terrors of the Eternal Night seemed a thing of the past.

“Xia, go and summon all our soldiers at once—issue my decree for them to gather at the city gates.”

With a sweep of his hand, Ning Zhan issued his commands.

Moments later, over a thousand soldiers hurried to the gate. To be safe, Ning Zhan brought with him the Hanging Dawn bestowed by Li.

In the night, the Hanging Dawn cast a milky glow, illuminating the city gate—yet the sight that met Ning Zhan’s eyes only deepened his scowl.

Everywhere, blood pooled like crimson puddles. In many places, only fresh, threadlike bones and unknown viscous fluids remained where bodies had been gnawed to shreds.

“What... What happened here?” Ning Xia’s voice trembled with terror. Even in the bloodiest wars of the north, he had never seen such carnage.

A chilling, rasping noise sounded once more from the darkness.

“Be on your guard—enemies are near!” Ning Zhan, the strongest among them, was first to sense danger; he barked a warning to his men.

Yet before his voice had faded, dozens of enormous, ghastly pale shapes erupted from the ink-black shadows all around...