The tavern faded behind them, its warmth a distant memory. Led by a guide named Old Hu, Qin Bing's imperial squad cut through the deepening twilight of Ginkgo Town. Their destination was a temporary billet: the sprawling, abandoned mansion of the Zhou family, once the second-richest name in town.
Ever since the Black Shark Legion had collapsed on the front lines, the entire southern province held its breath. A zombie tide was coming, and Ginkgo Town was directly in its path. Anyone with the means to run had already done so, leaving behind ghost houses filled with fine furniture and fear. The wealthiest families were the first to vanish.
The unspoken question hung in the air: why the Zhou family mansion? The grandest estate, belonging to the Ye family, was also empty.
Old Hu had supplied the answer grimly. The Ye mansion already had tenants: a ruthless band of mercenaries known as the Wolf Pack. He'd been nervous breaking the news to Qin Bing, half-expecting the imperial centurion to demand he evict the mercenaries for her troops. A clash of egos, a turf war—it was the last thing the town needed.
But Qin Bing was unreadable. She gave a slight, dismissive nod and simply motioned for her soldiers to follow him. Relief washed over Old Hu, but it was short-lived.
They saw it on the side of the road—a discarded door panel serving as a makeshift bier. On it lay the body of a young girl, her clothes torn. The marks on her body told a story of brutal violation, a life extinguished by cruelty. Kneeling beside her, an old woman's grief was a raw, keening sound that tore at the evening's quiet.
In a world drowning in death, it was easy to become numb. Qin Bing and her second-in-command, Xiao Ke, barely glanced at the tragic scene before preparing to move on.
Then a soldier named Duan Canglong gasped, his voice tight with shock. "Captain… my God, it's her. It's the little beggar girl from the tavern. The one you gave the beef to."
The words struck Xiao Ke like a physical blow. He turned back, his eyes locking onto the small, broken form. Disbelief warred with a sickening certainty. An hour ago, she had been alive. He knelt beside the weeping woman. "What happened? I just saw her. She was fine!"
The old woman looked up, her tear-streaked face a mask of despair. But when she saw the crisp imperial uniforms, a flicker of desperate hope ignited in her eyes. She fell to her knees before them, a drowning soul grasping for a lifeline. "Sirs, soldiers… You have to do something! My girl… they… oh, God, what they did to her…"
Between choked sobs, the horrific story spilled out. Not an hour after they'd left the tavern, a few mercenaries—led by a man they called Wild Wolf—had dragged the girl away. For thirty minutes, they'd used her, broken her, and then discarded her body.
The rage that flooded Xiao Ke was a white-hot fire. The memory surfaced, sharp and ugly: Wild Wolf's eyes on him in the tavern as he gave the girl the food. The mercenary's sneering defiance when Qin Bing had tried to conscript his men. And the look of pure venom Wild Wolf had shot him as he left.
The pieces clicked into place with sickening clarity. This wasn't random. This was a message. This was payback, and the price had been an innocent girl's life.
A sharp singing of steel cut through the air as Xiao Ke drew his saber, his face a mask of cold fury. "I'm killing those bastards."
"Captain, no!" Duan Canglong grabbed his arm, his men moving to block him. "Don't be reckless. The Wolf Pack has over twenty men. They're private security for drug runners—they're flush with cash and their gear is better than ours. If we go after them now, even if we win, it'll be a slaughter. We'll lose half our squad. How can we defend this town against the dead if we're all dead ourselves?"
"I don't care," Xiao Ke snarled, trying to shove them aside. "Get out of my way."
They held firm, but it was another voice that stopped him cold.
"Stand down, Decurion."
Qin Bing's command was quiet, but it carried the weight of absolute authority. "Have you forgotten your oath? Have you forgotten that a soldier's first duty is to obey? I have not given the order to engage. No one moves."
Stunned, Xiao Ke stared at her. He saw the same cold pragmatism in her eyes that he'd heard in Duan Canglong's voice. The greater good. The mission. His rage, with nowhere to go, curdled into a bitter poison in his gut. He lowered his head, his knuckles white on the hilt of his saber.
Qin Bing didn't spare him another glance. "We're moving out," she ordered. "Anyone who breaks formation will face military justice." She turned to their guide. "Old Hu. The way."
A silent, relieved breath escaped Old Hu. He'd been brokering a fragile peace with the Wolf Pack, seeing them as a necessary evil—brutes, yes, but brutes who could fight. A war between them and the imperial troops would have torn the town apart. He quickly led the way, and soon the gates of the Zhou mansion loomed before them. It was a massive estate, with more than enough room for the squad to make a defensible camp.
After arranging for a delivery of grain, Old Hu made a hasty exit. Night fell, cloaking the town in darkness.
A heavy, suffocating silence had fallen over Xiao Ke. He moved through the motions of setting up camp like a ghost, his face a thundercloud of unspoken fury.
Qin Bing watched him for a time, then said, "Decurion Xiao Ke. With me."
He looked up from his work, his expression unreadable. He knew what this was: a lecture, a pep talk about duty and sacrifice. He dropped his cleaning tools, snapped to attention, and gave a crisp salute. "Yes, Centurion."
He followed her across the grounds, his limp a dull, throbbing reminder of his own vulnerability. The military-grade healing agent she'd given him, the "Angel's Kiss," was living up to its name. A broken bone was already knitting itself back together in just a day. It was a damn miracle in a syringe, but it was also rare and incredibly expensive. Too expensive to save everyone.
They arrived at her private quarters—a small, secluded courtyard with two rooms she had claimed for herself, one as a bedroom and the other as a command office. She stopped in the center of the yard, the moonlight casting long shadows around them.
"You want to kill them," she stated. It wasn't a question.
"You wouldn't allow it," he bit back, his voice thick with resentment.
A single eyebrow arched on her forehead. "It's not about permission. It's about ability. In a real fight, you can't even beat Duan Canglong. What makes you think you could survive an encounter with battle-hardened mercenaries?"
The truth of it silenced him, but a defiant spark remained in his eyes. He'd never admit defeat before a fight had even begun.
"Remember what I told you last night?" she continued, her voice dropping, becoming more intense. "I am going to train you. I am going to make you a real soldier. Only then, when you face a problem like this, will you have the power to solve it. I didn't stop you tonight for the 'greater good.' I stopped you because you are weak. And in this world, at the end of all things… weakness is the original sin."
She let the words hang in the air for a long moment.
"Starting now, I will teach you the fundamentals of military combat and the art of the saber. But your leg is still healing. Are you ready to begin this, right now?"
The hunger to be stronger, to be better, to have the power to protect and to punish, had never been more ferocious. He felt he couldn't wait another second. Straightening his back, Xiao Ke lifted his chin and met her gaze. His voice was loud and clear in the night air, a raw testament to his newfound resolve.
"Reporting, Centurion. I am. I want to start now. I want to become a real soldier."