This time I chose Paladin.

Chapter 190 Collecting Corpses and Resting

The battle is over.

Only the massive, silent ruins of the cordon remained in the wilderness, like a stark and cold metal tomb.

Smoke and dust drifted slowly in the warm evening breeze, carrying a strong smell of burning and a faint, icy aura belonging to the Netherworld.

Nie Weiyang stared silently at the pile of scrap metal for a moment, then turned around, his voice devoid of much emotion, and issued an unquestionable order: "Collect the corpses, clean up the battlefield, and tally the casualties. Gather all valuable remains, especially fragments of the Netherworld signal transceiver and power source."

"Fifteen minutes later, move northeast to the edge of the forest and set up camp for rest."

His orders were swiftly carried out. No one cheered for victory; there was only the silence of survivors and efficient busyness.

The names of the fallen were whispered and recorded, and the wounded were gathered for emergency treatment. The team members who turned into black mist in the [Forbidden Zone] left no remains, only a heavy mark etched in everyone's hearts.

The team quickly set off, dragging their weary bodies and heavy equipment, disappearing into the nearby forest, which grew increasingly dark in the twilight.

Just as Nie Weiyang had predicted, the earth-shattering battle had already startled the mutated animals at the edge of the forest, causing them to scatter and flee. For a short time, this area had become a relatively safe vacuum.

But in the forests of the new world, there is no true safety.

"Use fire skills to burn the ground, deploy insect repellent, and thoroughly inspect the ground, tree trunks, under the leaf litter, and in the crevices between rocks!" a scarred veteran roared in a hoarse voice as he skillfully swept a flamethrower across what appeared to be a flat patch of grass.

laugh--!
After the flames subsided, several fist-sized, multi-legged monsters suddenly sprang out from under the charred grass roots. Their carapaces gleamed with an ominous metallic luster. They writhed wildly on the ground a few times before being shattered by precise shots, splattering foul-smelling green fluid.

"Damn it, these monstrous things are everywhere..."

A young team member kicked away the insect carcass with lingering fear and quickly joined the others in using flamethrowers and special agents to repeatedly burn and clean the selected encampment. A strange smell filled the air, a mixture of wood ash, insecticide, and burnt protein.

Only after such a rigorous clearing process were the tents allowed to be pitched.

Simple fortifications and warning traps were set up around the camp. Soon, several campfires were lit, with cooking pots placed on them, heating portable food and water, emitting a simple yet comforting aroma.

Exhausted people sat or leaned against something, checking their equipment, tending to minor wounds, talking in hushed tones, or simply staring blankly at the flickering flames, their faces bearing the numbness and deep weariness of battle.

A strong smell of sweat, blood, and dirt filled the camp.

This is reminiscent of a cemetery.

Nie Weiyang sat alone on a rock a little away from the central campfire, without removing his armor, which was covered with scratches and charred marks.

He carefully wiped the stains off the golden spear, his movements focused and calm, as if the fierce battle just now was merely routine training. A small, soft, white orb of light was placed on top of the Zhenhui.

A moment later, he put down the spear and carefully picked up the white orb of light—the Phantom Spirit.

It trembled slightly in his palm, emitting a soft and comfortable halo, clearly well protected by the holy light shield he had been maintaining, and had not been affected by the aftershocks of the battle.

Nie Weiyang poked it.

The phantom wriggled and made an incomprehensible sound: "Huh?"

—It's actually a plush puppy the size of the bottom of a cup!

Nie Weiyang held the dog in his hands, seemingly oblivious to the stares of others, as if inputting some information. The light inside the sphere flickered intermittently, like breathing, a sign that it was conducting long-range communication.

No one around him knew what message he was sending or to whom it was being sent.

He completed all of this in silence, his profile appearing particularly hard in the light of the phantom and the shadow of the campfire. Several team members secretly sized him up, exchanging glances. Finally, a young soldier who seemed a bit bolder, after being shoved a few times by his comrades, took a deep breath and came over with a cup of hot water.

"Mr. Nie... Mr. Nie," the young man said nervously, "would you like some hot water?"

Nie Weiyang raised his head, his scarlet, glowing eyes standing out sharply in the night. He didn't take it immediately, but simply looked at the other person. That gaze wasn't fierce, but it carried a penetrating power that made the young man instinctively straighten his body.

"Thank you." A few seconds later, Nie Weiyang took the cup, his voice flat.

The young man breathed a sigh of relief, but didn't leave immediately. After hesitating for a moment, he couldn't help but say, "Mr. Nie, you were just... truly amazing! Even under those circumstances..."

“It’s the result of everyone’s joint efforts.” Nie Weiyang interrupted him, his tone unchanged, but naturally conveying a sense of distance that prevented further discussion. “Go and rest, and stay vigilant.”

"Yes!" the young man immediately replied, not daring to say another word, and turned to slip back to his companions.

After he left, Nie Weiyang slowly took a sip of hot water. He could clearly feel the gazes falling on him, a mixture of awe, gratitude, curiosity, and... a trace of elusive doubt.

'...That kind of recovery ability...being directly impacted by the [Restricted Zone], he didn't even spit out a drop of blood?'

'...Can a common animal like a black-crowned night heron really have such a strong lineage? Something feels off...'

'Those eyes...is it some kind of special talent? Or some kind of passive skill?'

"...The way he looked at me just now, it was like he could read my mind...it gave me the creeps..."

Such fragments of thought, like tiny bubbles, rose sporadically from the weary crowd around him, only to be quickly suppressed by their owners. No one dared to voice these questions, or even gaze at him for long.

Nie Weiyang ignored him, simply put down his water glass, turned his gaze back to Huanling, whose palm had returned to calm, and then slowly closed his fingers, placing it back into the shadow of the neck protector.

Not far away, the last body was placed in the middle of the camp.

Seventeen people, seventeen corpses. Among them were a weary-looking middle-aged man, a beautiful young girl whose features were blurred by the explosion, and an elderly man who appeared frail but was actually strong and vigorous…

They came from Earth, lived through the rainy season, lived through the rising blood moon, and lived through every day after that. Then, in their first battle before leaving their home city, they died.

Death always comes unexpectedly, and only when it arrives do people realize that it has simply come as promised.

Nie Weiyang rose and walked to the mortuary. He stood quietly before the body, clasped his hands together, and observed a moment of silence. Night deepened, the forest whispered around them, and the chirping of insects cautiously rose again, only to be drowned out by the crackling of the campfire and the soft sounds of human activity.

The camp gained a temporary respite, but when Nie Weiyang opened his eyes again, his thoughts drifted to the incomplete warning audio.

[Attention! Attention! ...Attention...You are in danger...Go backwards...Do not...]

This is definitely a warning, but some information is clearly missing.

The signal source from the Netherworld, the Glory Space Station… what exactly is it trying to tell him? The phrase 'your side' likely refers to all of humanity…

Nie Weiyang pondered this information in his mind. A hint of darkness appeared deep in his eyes, then quickly vanished. He remained the calm and serious paladin, the upright guardian. No one knew that deep within his mind, in that blood-red world, the white-haired assassin took a step forward.

‘Click! ’

Beneath his feet, the pale, curled, hard grass broke apart, crumbling into a cloud of dust.

(End of this chapter)