Chapter 128: Divine Inscriptions
Yet her mind worked like a hunting hawk circling high above.
After observing for just a few days, Ling Yu figured out the entire system in place and committed it to memory. The watchtowers were manned at all hours. The gates opened at intervals too strict to be natural, controlled like clockwork. Every refugee was accounted for with number tags, and soldiers regularly cross-checked them in the public squares.
It wasn’t protection. Rather, it was a kind of containment.
Her suspicions deepened when she followed one of the nightly patrols under the cover of her concealment skill. On the surface, the guards seemed disciplined but dismissive of the "weak civilians." Yet she caught sight of sigils carved into their armor, binding runes, faint but distinct. When activated, they shimmered faintly with a power not of mortal craft.
"Divine inscriptions..." she muttered to herself, crouched in the shadow of an alley.
Why would mortal soldiers bear marks of gods?
That meant that these patrol guards were also sponsored by low-class divine beings, who couldn’t even look up to the divine beings she had in her stream.
On the third night, while strolling past what appeared to be a military garrison, she stopped dead. A statue that loomed at the heart of the mansions around, cloaked in golden light. From a distance, it appeared to be a generic war god with its sword raised high, wings half-unfurled. But her experience from her past life screamed otherwise.
This wasn’t an idol.
It was a conduit.
A divine anchor, placed deliberately within the city. It drew faith from the masses, collecting their fear and worship, weaving it into a tether. She didn’t know which divine being this anchor belonged to, but she recognized the faint echo of a divine aura when the light brushed her senses.
Her hand instinctively clenched into a fist.
So that was it. This fortress wasn’t built just to protect survivors. Rather, it was a cage, a harvesting ground for the elites. A false sanctuary built under divine eyes.
On the fourth day, she caught subtle changes in the people around her. Refugees who had arrived together no longer stayed together. Some were "transferred" to other housing blocks, and others vanished after being summoned by military personnel. When asked, the guards brushed it off as "reassignment for labor."
But Ling Yu noticed their faces. The ones taken were often young, strong, and unbroken. Not unlike her own team.
She remembered her past life all too clearly. Human survivors had once been used like livestock by the elite class and the higher beings. Whether by monsters, cults, or the so-called "divine" patrons, it was all the same.
This fortress reeked of the same fate. Exploitation and death that bring about destruction in the world.
Her instincts told her something worse was brewing here, something beyond the ordinary monster waves. Something connected to the gods who meddled with this world.
Still, she remained quiet. She relaxed on the surface, sometimes laughing lightly with Song or teasing Fluffy when he curled into her lap. She gave no outward sign of suspicion, no hint that she was dissecting the city’s secrets piece by piece.
Because to survive here, patience was key.
The eerie atmosphere of the fortress city was subtle, but it pressed on her chest with every passing day. Even the night skies felt wrong; the stars above seemed hazy and muted, as if something veiled them. The air carried the faintest metallic tang, the same taste she remembered in places where divine power had soaked into the ground.
Ling Yu knew better than to ignore such signs. This place was no mere stronghold. It was a trap disguised as salvation.
Ling Yu’s steps slowed as she rounded a corner, her eyes narrowing at the sight before her.
The fortress’s so-called esteemed young lord had finally made an appearance in the public square. A man in silken robes, white as snow, embroidered with gold thread that shimmered beneath the torchlight. His hair was neatly tied back with a jade clasp, his movements graceful, his smile practiced. He looked every inch the refined aristocrat, a savior figure to the desperate refugees gathered to hear his speech.
But to Ling Yu, he was no saint. He was a snake.
Xu Mochen?
She narrowed her eyes as she stared at him from behind the crowd of people, thinking what he was doing in a place like this.
’It’s so unbecoming of him to come here of all places...’
’Also, what is he trying to prove by wearing those costummes? Is he cosplaying or what?’
Her ex-fiancé, the man who had dumped her without a second thought in her past life, only to publicly get together with Jiang Meng right after, the very woman who had mocked and trampled on her when she was at her lowest.
For a moment, Ling Yu’s vision blurred with red. Her hands curled into fists at her sides, the knuckles pale. The System in her mind flickered with warning notifications, reacting to the killing intent rolling off her in waves.
[Warning! Host’s murderous intent is leaking!]
Ling Yu exhaled slowly through her nose, forcing the bloodlust back into the pit of her chest. Now wasn’t the time.
She shifted her stance, blending into the crowd like an ordinary refugee, though her eyes were sharp as blades as they followed Xu Mochen onto the platform.
The man spread his arms with faux benevolence, his voice carrying across the square like honey poured over rotten meat.
"My fellow survivors," Xu Mochen began, his smile deepening. "You have suffered. You have lost much in this cruel world. But under these walls, you are safe. Here, you will find shelter, food, and hope. I, Xu Mochen, the prince consort of the Jiang Empire, will personally ensure that no monster shall breach our city!"
The crowd erupted into cheers, relief plain on their faces. Some even wept openly, clinging to the illusion of safety he wove so skillfully.