Chapter Seventy-One: The Ancient Battle (Part Three)

The surface of the deep pit was completely concealed beneath a thick layer of tangled weeds. Even those who were forewarned would have difficulty detecting it, let alone the pale monsters whose minds were filled only with thoughts of fresh flesh and blood. Most of them acted purely on instinct.

Their eyes, after countless years of evolution, had become utterly vestigial—mere decorations, no longer serving any real function. They relied solely on scent and hearing to navigate.

Naturally, a fixed, motionless trap was not a concept these creatures would recognize, nor was it something they would instinctively avoid.

Moreover, they moved in large packs, making their collective presence all the more conspicuous. Even the simplest traps could easily ensnare them, to say nothing of these pits, which had been meticulously prepared by the white-haired elder and his companions.

With a dull thud...

And again...

On the battlefield, the power of the pitfall traps became evident. This was the first line of defense on the road to the Li Dynasty—a line into which enormous effort and energy had been poured.

In their field of vision, the tide of pallid figures surging at the forefront suddenly began to topple one after another, vanishing from sight as they fell.

Faintly, one could still hear the sound of sandbags bursting and the shrill, unending wails of the fallen.

In one corner of the earth, gray-black blood slowly seeped into the soil, making the already dark earth appear all the more sinister.

“Damnable, ugly creatures! On this day next year, you shall be our sacrifice,” the white-haired elder muttered through clenched teeth atop the city wall, his expression grim.

Compared to the spectacle of billowing smoke, this scene of carnage and bloodshed was far more satisfying to him.

“Gu Lao, at this rate, these monsters may not even break through our first line of defense,” the brilliant woman beside him remarked, her eyes bright with laughter. The tension that had gripped her heart eased considerably.

Though she too was a great cultivator, she was the weakest of the three. Only now could she clearly discern the monsters’ movements.

On the battlefield, the pale creatures continued to plunge into the deep pits, impaled alive by the spears buried within, their blood spurting forth, foul and gray-black.

Yet even so, the swarm of pallid monsters charged foolishly toward the traps, undeterred. In just this short time, at least a hundred of them had fallen into the pits, their fate uncertain.

“We must not grow complacent,” the white-haired elder warned. “Though these monsters appear dim-witted, each one is terrifying in its own right. Furthermore, they managed to escape the thick smoke just now. With such ability, I cannot believe the pit traps alone will stop them entirely.”

The white-haired elder shook his head, unwilling to agree with the brilliant woman’s optimism.

“What’s more, if Young Lord Ya is correct, there are even more terrifying beings among their ranks, though we have yet to see them. Thus, I suspect those greater threats are lurking in the shadows of the eternal night, silently watching our every move.”

“Gu Lao, could Young Lord Ya have been mistaken? I feel these monsters aren’t as fearsome as they were the first time they appeared,” the woman pouted, voicing her doubts.

“That is unlikely. Young Lord Ya is renowned for his strategy and wisdom, said to be clever beyond his years and skilled in foresight. From my own dealings with him, I’ve found that though he speaks little, every word is well considered.”

The elder’s words carried a double meaning: firstly, his agreement with the handsome youth’s judgment; secondly, a subtle warning to the woman not to speak thoughtlessly and pretend to knowledge she lacked.

Fortunately, although her wit was lacking, the woman knew when to hold her tongue. At the elder’s words, she fell silent.

Suddenly, the low, muffled roar sounded again, thundering through the air, clear even to the white-haired elder and those beside him.

At the sound, the chaotic horde of pale creatures abruptly halted. Then, from their midst, over a hundred smaller spore monsters stepped forward.

These pallid spore creatures wasted no time. They leaped ahead of the main host, chose a direction, and charged forward.

“The Sphinx King is rather cunning, isn’t he? He knows to send his weaker, underdeveloped kin as cannon fodder...” Fang Zhuowei poured himself a cup of tea, blew gently across the surface, and watched intently as the Kers tribe moved through the miniature world within his aquarium.

When the Sphinx King summoned a squad of ordinary Kers, Fang Zhuowei instantly understood his plan: to use those with lesser combat power, the underdeveloped and weak, to clear a path with their bodies, opening a way forward for the rest of the tribe.

He had to admit, he was surprised by such ruthlessness and calculation.

Cruel though it was, this tactic was brutally effective in an age of cold steel.

As Fang Zhuowei deduced all this, the defenders atop the city—led by the white-haired elder—reached the same conclusion about the Kers’ strategy.

“These ugly monsters are truly troublesome,” the elder muttered, his brow deeply furrowed.

Before the vast city gate, the chosen spore shock troops advanced fearlessly, charging ahead with wild abandon. Sightless and unable to detect the pits, they blocked the traps with their own flesh, unafraid of death.

Meanwhile, the rest of the pallid spores waited quietly, allowing the “martyrs” to fulfill their grim task.

Soon, the first wave of fodder was utterly annihilated halfway through the journey. Immediately, a second wave followed. This cycle continued until all the chosen “martyrs” had perished, but at last, a path was cleared through the filled pits.

Only then did the remaining pale spores begin to move, swarming in rare order along the newly forged path.

“If I am not mistaken, that deep roar just now must have come from the King Young Lord Ya mentioned,” the white-haired elder said, eyes sharp and brows knitted.

Beyond the first line of defense lay the second.

And that second line of defense was none other than themselves.