Chapter 124: Entering the City
The thought made her lips curl in faint irritation. That man was always a riddle, always thinking ten steps ahead of others.
But she shook her head lightly, refusing to let her unease show on her face. She couldn’t afford to falter. The survivors behind her depended on her sharpness, her decisiveness. And so she pressed forward, steady and silent.
By the time the jagged silhouette of the fortress came into view, a hush spread across the group. What loomed ahead was not just another camp. It seemed to be a stronghold, its walls glowing faintly with rune-etched patterns of defense, flickering lights blazing like stubborn stars in the devouring darkness.
Ling Yu’s eyes narrowed as understanding clicked instantly into place. "So that’s what’s happening..." she murmured, almost to herself.
The fortress wasn’t merely a shelter. Its layered defenses, the concentration of survivors within, and the faint traces of energy spilling through the air told her everything she needed to know. This was one of the core resistance strongholds, a nexus where survivors from scattered camps gathered, consolidated, and reorganized. More than just walls, it was a beacon, the kind of place where hope could be rekindled... or extinguished entirely if overrun.
Her fingers flexed at her side. She knew too well how these strongholds fared in her past life. Some held out, legendary bastions that weathered wave after wave. But others... others became mass graves, their lights extinguished beneath overwhelming swarms. The sight of that glowing fortress stirred both a cold knot of determination and an aching reminder of memories she had buried deep.
"Miss Ling...?" one of the younger survivors at her side whispered nervously, eyes glued to the fortress. "Is this... really safe?"
Ling Yu’s lips tugged in the faintest of sardonic smiles. Safe? Nowhere was safe, at least not in this world. But she wouldn’t voice that. Instead, her voice was calm, firm, and reassuring:
"It’s as safe as we can expect for now. Stay sharp. This place draws both people and monsters."
Her words fell like iron nails, steadying the frayed nerves of the group. She didn’t need them collapsing into panic before they even reached the gates.
Still, as she led them closer, her mind remained elsewhere. If Ji Xiulan had chosen the east while the fortress lay here in the west, then there were only two conclusions: either he had another fortress in his sights... or he was deliberately avoiding this one.
But why?
Her gut told her that man never acted without reason. Which meant something in this fortress, in this direction, was not part of his plan. Or perhaps, it was something he intended for her to encounter alone.
The thought made her chest tighten slightly, a quiet mixture of irritation and an almost childlike stubbornness.
’Don’t toy with me, Ji Xiulan. I don’t want your breadcrumbs, and I don’t need your guidance either.’
Still, she couldn’t shake the unease.
The fortress lights grew brighter, clearer, revealing watchtowers lined with survivors holding makeshift weapons, archers with tense grips, a few awakened fighters whose postures screamed exhaustion rather than strength. The gates, plated with iron and marked by scratch lines of countless battles, loomed tall, half-open like a mouth unwilling to fully trust newcomers.
As they neared, the guards at the gate stiffened, leveling spears and crossbows at her group. "Stop! Identify yourselves!" one shouted, his voice taut.
Ling Yu raised a hand, motioning for her team to halt. Then she stepped forward, her expression calm but carrying the unshakable authority that always seemed to surround her when she chose.
"We are survivors," she said, her tone flat, commanding, leaving no room for doubt. "From the west. We’ve cleared part of the swarm on our way here. We seek entry of the group."
The guards exchanged uncertain glances. Her group’s ragged appearance, stained with blood and dust, carried the undeniable scent of battle. Yet there was also that aura around her, an edge, a pressure that made even battle-hardened survivors hesitate before questioning further.
After a tense pause, the leader gestured sharply. The gates groaned wider. "Let them in."
As they crossed the threshold, the air shifted. Within the fortress, the atmosphere was just as heavy, but layered with something else, desperation mixed with the brittle thread of order. Survivors huddled in corners, clutching whatever belongings they had managed to keep. Children whimpered, mothers hushed them, and injured men groaned softly on makeshift cots. Guards patrolled the walls with hollow eyes, trying to look vigilant, though fatigue clung to their movements.
Ling Yu’s gaze swept over it all in silence. She didn’t need words to understand: this fortress was on its last legs.
Still, the lights burned. And that was something.
She exhaled softly and motioned her team to follow. As they made their way deeper inside, her thoughts circled back like a tightening noose.
The gates of the fortress city closed behind them with a deep metallic groan, shutting out the endless wasteland and sealing them in a world just as harsh in its own way.
Ling Yu immediately felt the shift in atmosphere. Outside had been the battlefield, open, savage, and honest in its violence. Inside the walls was something different, something tighter, more suffocating. The air was thick not with monster stench, but with the mingled smells of too many humans packed together: unwashed bodies, boiled gruel, medicinal herbs, and the faint reek of blood and sweat.
Rows of makeshift shelters lined the wide street leading inward. Some were wooden lean-tos hammered together in haste; others were stone and steel structures repurposed from old city buildings. Torches and lamps burned along the main path, casting pools of light that seemed almost too bright against the gloom of the sky. Every few steps, pairs of soldiers in mismatched uniforms patrolled with stiff-backed vigilance. Their boots hit the stone ground in sharp rhythm, an almost military precision, yet their gazes, the curl of their lips when they looked at newcomers, betrayed disdain rather than discipline.