The Path of the Swarm lies in sacrifice and warfare!
Among them, "sacrifice" even ranked ahead of "warfare."
Rather than wild hacking and slashing, the Heritage Burnt Offering was the supreme essence of the Swarm. Yet the true nature of the burnt offering was not to pray to gods or worship buddhas. If anything, it was... to allow one to pass the buck!
The Swarm folks hacked and slashed and killed, butchering anyone for money without asking questions. Anyone thinking with their heels could see that acting with such unbridled brutality would only invite endless karmic retribution and vicious corruption.
If they took no precautions whatsoever, they would lose their minds to madness in minutes, falling into Frenzied Slaughter.
Endless wars plagued the world, fraught with disputes over righteousness and morality, but how many were truly just wars fought to set chaos to right, purge treacherous courtiers, and restore order to the realm?
Calling them rare as phoenix feathers or unicorn horns would still be an overstatement.
Hence the existence of the Heritage Burnt Offering and the Sacrificial Lord. Through "sacrifice," "offering," and "cost," a sliver of rules and standards was injected into unrestrained violence. At the same time, after tributes and sacrifices were presented, the Sacrificial Lord could vicariously shoulder the corruption and foul consequences for the inheritors.
Otherwise, the Swarm and Frenzied Slaughter wouldn't just be cut from the same cloth—they would have long since merged into one.
The true essence of the Swarm—necessary violence, struggles for survival, crusades to quell chaos, heroic endeavors to restore the realm—how many could actually achieve that? People merely paid lip service to it.
Therefore, something was needed to foot the bill for the disaster and corruption wrought by the Swarm.
In the vast majority of cases, that something was Tianyuan.
Just as Embers always liked mingling with White Stag in times of chaos, Tianyuan—which was naturally able to grant necessity and legitimacy to the violence and slaughter of the Swarm while shouldering most of the consequences—was in fact the Swarm's true partner!
Moreover, without the material resources of Tianyuan, an army of the Swarm of sufficient scale and caliber could never be sustained. Every single surviving Swarm legacy in this era was tightly bound to political power.
Though both were Celestial Chosen who slaughtered until corpses filled the fields, the dividing line between Frenzied Slaughter and the Swarm—the distinction between a brutal band of mutineers and a righteous royal army—lay in this very legitimacy!
This included Old Tom as well!
It was just that his legitimacy belonged to an outdated version.
Yet when summoning his ancestors to possess him, he still required the Blood Remuneration as a sacrificial offering.
Even within the Swarm, an order renowned for utter madness, Lord Tianlu's legacy was among the most ferocious, brutal, and sinister paths. Without this burnt offering to sustain it, later inheritors would have dragged their talents down into the Vortex in no time at all...
On the surface, the Blood Remuneration took the form of gold coins, but at its core, it pointed directly to the military nobility system of the former Eternal Imperial Dynasty!
The Emperor, wielding the Heaven's Mandate of the Eternal Imperial Dynasty, bestowed legitimacy upon the Swarm under his command, using the vastness of the empire to guarantee the corruption wrought by the Swarm.
All twenty-one ranks of military nobility were won on the battlefield, the core principle being: "Behead to claim nobility; slay foes to earn gold!"
In the early days of the dynasty, Tianlu was one of the few who had risen to the very pinnacle through military merit alone. In matters of warfare, his status was second only to the Emperor himself.
Naturally, his legacy was bound inextricably to the dynasty and its military merit nobility system.
Even fallen to its current state, as long as legitimate gold coins of the Eternal Imperial Dynasty were provided as remuneration and used as offerings, this power could be wielded without burden.
What the Blood Remuneration truly required was not antique coins turned into display pieces, but the endorsement and guarantee backed by the Emperor's supreme authority at the moment of their minting.
From the perspective of Sovereign Virtue's Heaven's Mandate: you accepted the Emperor's gold coins, and you carried out the Eternal Imperial Dynasty's tasks; therefore, everything your blade did was naturally shouldered by the Emperor and settled by the Eternal Imperial Dynasty!
And so, this was the exact point Fourth Granduncle found impossible to comprehend.
Why the hell did this handful of gold coins, clearly stamped out not long ago, actually possess the Heaven's Mandate of the Eternal Imperial Dynasty?
They were purely brand new, ten out of ten! Yet that wisp of aura pointing straight to the imperial Heaven's Mandate couldn't be faked... It had been over four hundred years; every last emperor was dead, and the final emperor had fallen down the Vortex. How could there be a new emperor succeeding the throne, a swordsmith overseeing the crafting, and an Imperial Sovereign's Hand minting currency?
Could the Dynasty have actually been restored?!
Right, right... no, wrong, wrong... right... wrong...
For a moment, Fourth Granduncle's brain—which had turned to ash centuries ago—actually experienced a bit of an overload. But soon, he realized: This is good news, all good news!
If the Dynasty was restored, wouldn't the Victory Army be rebuilt? And if the Victory Army was rebuilt, wouldn't his family's legacy be renewed?
Besides, this young man before him was sly, treacherous, craf—*cough, cough*—his resourcefulness surpassed even the Imperial Sovereign's Hand of old. In the future, he was bound to become a rare villainous scourge—*cough, cough*—a peerless hero!
Given their existing relationship, rounding things up, their family could practically be counted as foundational retainers from his days in hiding!
Bind with him! They had to bind themselves to him completely!
They just couldn't spell it out to Ah Qian, that dull blockhead who worried about consequences at every turn. Whatever happened, they couldn't scare him away—they had to lock this down first.
The long-cremated ancestor's mind whirred, worrying himself sick.
Now, looking at Ji Jue, he felt exceptionally pleased.
Whoever paid the cash was the boss, and whoever could grant noble titles was naturally the boss of bosses. The opportunity was right in front of them—how could they not pledge fierce loyalty to the Dynasty?
"Ah Qian..."
Fourth Granduncle's tone instantly became benevolent. "Do you know what the most important virtue has been throughout all the years of our family's heritage?"
"Uh—" Tang Qian blanked. "Ruthless hands and fast feet?"
"Bullshit!" Fourth Granduncle flew into a rage and smacked him across the face with a hard backhand. "The most important thing in life is honesty and integrity, understand?! A real man's word is as solid as an iron nail driven into wood! If you take a boss's money, you get the boss's job done! What kind of nonsense is all this hemming and hawing?!
"Being a person boils down to two words—
"—LOYALTY! INTEGRITY!"
Having dropped unfamiliar words that had never once appeared in their family dictionary, Fourth Granduncle drifted away.
Leaving Tang Qian, who had taken an inexplicable slap across the face, staring wide-eyed, exchanging glances with Ji Jue, who had been waiting for a long time.
Ji Jue maintained his smile. Seeing that Tang Qian hadn't blown up to accuse him of being a monster, he knew the minting machine he'd dug up from the roots of the orthodox ancient imperial city had passed the inspection of the Tang family. Feeling even more at ease, he asked curiously, "Are you done... summoning?"
"Yeah, done summoning."
Tang Qian's face twitched uncontrollably. What the hell was all this?!
Still, since the ancestor hadn't forbidden it, he might as well do it.
Even if he couldn't trust this bastard Ji Jue, could he really doubt Fourth Granduncle?
"Fine, let's leave it at that."
Old Tom gritted his teeth and stamped his foot, ultimately boarding the pirate ship. "How are you getting in? I'll coordinate with you."
"Hmm?"
Ji Jue looked perplexed and asked in return, "Why would I go in?"
*Fuck, he really is just treating me like a tool, isn't he?!*
Tang Qian glared: *I risk life and limb while you sit outside reaping the rewards—and you're the kind of guy who'll cut and run the second things go south, tossing me aside like a disposable wrapper...*
"Don't worry, just take this."
Ji Jue pulled a lighter from his pocket and tossed it into his hands. "Take it inside with you. Don't worry, it doesn't count as an alchemical item and will pass the Empire's security scanners without issue. Keep your phone line clear; I'll direct your moves at all times."
A lighter?
Tang Qian turned it over in his hand, scrutinizing it closely. He couldn't shake the feeling that this thing looked like a hand grenade and wanted nothing more than to disassemble it and figure it out. Yet no matter how he looked at it, the damn thing was utterly unremarkable—just a plain old lighter.
"You've been in the 'bathroom' for too long. Your 'brothers' are starting to complain that you're trying to dodge the bill."
Ji Jue glanced at the monitor screen in the corner and flicked his fingers, reopening the vehicle's roof. "After you, Mr. Tang. Time to report for duty at the Imperial garrison base!"
"I'm gonna get killed by you sooner or later, you bastard."
Cursing under his breath, Tang Qian leaped up, vaulted back over the wall, pretentiously tightened his belt, and returned to his original seat.
Then, he threw himself back into drinking and bragging with his cheap brothers.
As if nothing had happened.
Fraternal loyalty, kindred spirits—whenever the conversation got heated, everyone acted ready to swear oaths of brotherhood. Even though everyone knew that brotherhood was held only in the heart and your phone went straight to voicemail when real trouble hit, when putting on a show, each one of them acted with unyielding chivalry and loyalty, as if they were paragons of worldly virtue...
With such profound brotherhood, the bill, of course, was split evenly.
Don't even think about getting me to pay an extra copper coin.
If the Empire hadn't paid enough hazard money, they might have even split the bill down to who ate an extra bite of cold appetizer.
What a joke. They were all sixth-class line-fillers, cannon fodder gathered temporarily to do dirty work, mere acquaintances who happened to share a table. Why waste genuine emotion?
In any case, amidst the harmonious, back-slapping atmosphere, the tipsy mercenaries staggered toward the gates of the garrison base.
Before the stern, imposing checkpoint, massive searchlights glared down, while two sets of power armor over four meters tall stood fully armed, their crimson optical sensors glaring at every passerby.
Beneath the security gates, people passed through one by one.
Tang Qian kept shooting the breeze, but his heart had climbed into his throat. He couldn't help scratching his cheek, glancing left and right. When his turn came, he swallowed hard and stepped across...
The security gate—supposedly capable of detecting even an extra stray coin—remained completely silent, its green light steadily blinking.
He actually passed!
"What are you standing around for?" A guard at the gate instantly looked over, eyes cold.
Tang Qian immediately put on a flattering grin and sidled closer to butter him up. "Ahem, drunk, had a bit too much to drink. Didn't react in time, sorry about that..."
A stun baton was shoved against his chest, stopping his advance.
"Show credentials. Search."
In an instant, several soldiers in exoskeletons marched over and meticulously swept him with scanners, which erupted into a chorus of beeps.
Apart from the holster on his calf, the dagger on his thigh, the body armor beneath his clothes, and the two handfuls of bullets in his pockets, he was forced to turn out everything—including his keys, leftover condoms, and the lighter Ji Jue had tossed him.
Item by item, they scanned everything without exception.
Still, nothing unusual.
"Third Foreign Infantry Regiment again?"
The guard conducting the check scoffed, glancing at Old Tom, who clearly wasn't Imperial, and coldly waved his baton. "Alright, beat it."
"Yes, yes, right away, right away."
Tang Qian bowed and scraped without the slightest offense, swiftly scooping up his belongings and even throwing in a military salute. Only after walking dozens of meters inside did he silently let out a breath of relief.
He had actually gotten in?
That fellow Ji Jue really did have some tricks up his sleeve!
Unlike the image of "slackness" and "freedom" conveyed by the Federation, Imperials had always been renowned for stern coldness and harsh discipline. While both were stereotypes, the contrast between the two sides was obvious.
Although they hired vast numbers of foreign mercenaries as cannon fodder, the Empire never relaxed its grip on its own military. Instead, it was increasingly rigorous, even to an inhumane degree.
The public impression of Imperial civil servants had always been unfeeling and machinelike. As for their soldiers, they were completely instrumentalized—a fact the soldiers themselves took pride in.
To this day, the Empire maintained a mandatory one-year conscription policy for all healthy adult males; even the disabled received training in munitions factories or other relevant posts.
And the soldiers stationed out in Mid-Continent were elites who had outcompeted countless peers during their one-year conscription to earn the status of professional soldiers. Enjoying generous pay, allowances, and benefits, they viewed this deployment as a pivotal turning point in their lives, executing orders without question and never slackening.
One could say the entire base was an impregnable fortress where not even a needle could slip through.
Beyond the strict surface inspections and checks, dozens of different alchemical circuits overlapped in secret, sealing the garrison base entirely.
Spiritus verification, threat analysis, hazardous material monitoring and sweeps... nothing was missing!
It was fair to say that any slight disturbance inside the base could not escape the eyes of the overseers.
Even though sixth-class foreign cannon fodder mercenaries like Tang Qian were permitted inside, they were monitored with even greater vigilance.
The reason the lighter didn't trip any alarms was simple: it really was just a goddamn lighter!
Except for its specially treated fuel, there wasn't a single issue with it. And even the fuel itself was fundamentally ordinary liquefied petroleum gas; even if Tianlu himself came to inspect it, he would have judged it normal.
Everything was as it should be.
"What's next?"
Old Tom walked at an ordinary pace, swaying leisurely along the path toward the dormitories. He heard the music in his earphones shift as the songs on his phone skipped continuously—young girl, old man, bass, soprano, switching back and forth across wildly different tracks: "...fearing loneliness... seek out... bustling... place..."
*Fine, find a crowded place, right?*
Tang Qian couldn't help rolling his eyes. This communication method was bizarre as hell—it was practically movable type printing.
Ji Jue had no choice; he liked judging others by himself. If I were the Empire, I wouldn't leave phone calls unmonitored inside the base either. Full recordings and wiretapping would be standard, with VIPs getting extra special attention. When it came to this sort of thing, the Empire's technical prowess was the one thing that couldn't be underestimated.
As for Boundless Telecom's premium private lines—heh, he might as well blow himself up on the spot.
If a cannon fodder mercenary like him connected to something like that inside the base, the military secret police would be knocking on his door within ten minutes.
So Ji Jue simply hijacked the music app's local server via Deus Ex Machina. As long as the message got across, who cared about presentation?
Old Tom went with the flow, making a seamless turn to head straight toward the cafeteria.
It was right around shift change for many posts, making it the liveliest place in the entire base. Although they were ranked sixth-class, they were Celestial Chosen after all, so the perks were ample—free rein in the NCO cafeteria.
He had taken plenty of advantage of that.
If he hadn't stuffed himself sick over the past two weeks, he would have continued camping there gorging himself today, and he never would have crossed paths with that bastard Ji Jue.
As usual, he piled a small mountain of food from the buffet onto his tray, found the liveliest table, and gave everyone a live demonstration of what it looked like to inhale an entire pig in three bites and a whole ox in five.
Like a whirlwind sweeping clouds—*shhh-shhh-shhh*—the plate was clean.
Then, with great enthusiasm, he picked up his plate again... heading straight for the chef, whose face had turned green.
The chef, who had just breathed a sigh of relief, felt his vision go dark as Old Tom respawned before his eyes. *Didn't you say you weren't coming today?!*
Fortunately, Old Tom's table manners were much more refined this time; he only had three plates, stopping at sixty percent full before letting out a burp.
From start to finish, his phone lay on the table, streaming a livestreamer clowning around as he rocked back and forth with laughter.
Just like always.
"You think you're tough? I'll send you flying—" On the screen, the livestreamer glared furiously, pointing right at Old Tom. "Take out that lighter for me!"
Old Tom didn't react immediately.
The avatar on screen rolled its eyes and repeated the command in a raised voice.
Old Tom pulled out a cigarette pack. Ignoring the NCO cafeteria's no-smoking rule with his usual lack of manners, he took out the lighter and lit up a cigarette.
The eerie green flame instantly flickered.
"What now?"
"Now, pay attention to the flame's direction," the hacked server faithfully transmitted the altered video feed to Old Tom. "Watch which way it drifts."
The lighter was normal, and the liquefied gas inside was normal too, except that it had been infused with spiritus extracted from the Plague of the Lord of the Flies.
Likewise, it inherited properties of the Plague of the Lord of the Flies, though its outward effect was the exact opposite: it couldn't stain or mark anything, but upon its own annihilation, it would converge toward the stained and marked target.
Furthermore, after Ji Jue had calibrated and matched it against the hue collected from the cannibalism crime scene, it would no longer react with any other hue.
Simply put, it was a compass needle crafted specifically for the target wolf.
However, if the distance was too great or there was too much interference, it would fluctuate.
Old Tom had to carry it into the base to observe and track it on-site.
With good luck, a single attempt would suffice.
With bad luck... Old Tom would just have to smoke a few extra packs.
"Oh!"
Old Tom's brow twitched. Sure enough, the flame drifted, drawn out almost into a thin line as if blown by an unseen breeze, pointing directly behind him.
Yet right after, it snapped back to vertical, rising straight up.
With a sudden flicker, it went out.
Broken?
Old Tom raised his eyebrows in confusion, shaking his head. He flicked the lighter repeatedly before finally lighting the cigarette.
*Exhale—*
He blew out a puff of smoke. Amidst the faint din, he looked behind him at a row of dashing female soldiers marching toward him.
Blonde hair flowing, azure eyes, curves in all the right places.
Having just finished training, the pilots boldly unbuttoned their collars, letting beads of sweat trace paths down into the peaks and valleys of their cleavage. Chatting and laughing among themselves, they strolled forward as though nobody else existed, long accustomed to the admiring gazes from either side, occasionally even waving back.
"Gorgeous!"
Tang Qian's brows jumped. He almost let out a whistle, watching them lingeringly for a long while until they had receded into the distance before finally tearing his eyes away.
Fiddling with the lighter in his hand, he realized that no matter how he struck it, it wouldn't spark.
"This thing broke that fast?"
On the other end, Ji Jue said nothing more.
It wasn't broken.
The special spiritus residue inside had been completely stimulated in an instant and thoroughly exhausted.
Still, at this point, whether the lighter worked or not no longer mattered.
Ji Jue simply stared quietly at the screen before him.
Laughing silently.
On the screen, in the footage transmitted by Old Tom, the image was frozen at the moment they brushed past each other: the oncoming female pilot walked with her head held high and chest out, golden hair floating in the air, eyes glittering like gemstones.
Utterly captivating.
There was no sign of the bloodstains clinging to the claws of her ten fingers, nor could one imagine what that cherry-red mouth looked like when split wide, drenched in blood and shredded meat.
"A wolf, huh..."
Ji Jue chuckled softly, eyes gleaming as he leaned in to study the image on the screen.
"Hello there."
Chapter 589