PFC Chapter 412 Night Finally Falls! (Page 12)
Chapter 412 Night Finally Falls! (Page 12)
The wind from the East China Sea, carrying the salty, fishy smell and the scent of gunpowder, dispersed the last embers of the battlefield.
The sea no longer boils, but the waves still surge, like some lingering, unwilling anger.
The waves crashed against the broken rocks, creating a hollow echo, as if mourning the end of this divine war.
The sky in the distance still bore the marks of battle—the clouds were torn into flakes, forming an unnatural spiral shape, like a wound forcibly ripped open by some enormous force.
Zhang Yun stood on the coastline, beneath his feet were cracked black rocks, each fissure seeping with dark red seawater—seawater contaminated by divine blood, emitting a faint sulfurous smell.
He slowly sheathed the God-Slaying Spear, the black light at its tip receding like a tide, finally dissipating into a wisp of black smoke. The ancient dark patterns on the spear also disappeared back into the metal, as if they had never appeared.
He looked down at his hands.
The wounds on his knuckles had scabbed over, but the bloodstains were still clearly visible—some were dark red, and belonged to him.
Some of them have an eerie purple hue, which is the divine blood of the Chimera, and even when dried, it still carries a corrosive burning sensation.
He flicked his hand lightly, and drops of blood fell, creating tiny pits in the sand, which were then smoothed out by the damp sea breeze.
"ended."
His voice was very soft, almost drowned out by the sound of the waves. But his words were like a kind of announcement, quieting down the restless elemental forces around him.
As he turned, the sole of his boot crushed a charred scale—a remnant that had fallen from the tail of a chimera scorpion, now fused with the reef, another insignificant monument to the battle.
The walls of Chenlong Pass looked particularly majestic in the twilight.
This majestic pass, weathered by time, now exudes an indescribable sense of heaviness.
The runes on the city wall flickered on and off, like weary breaths; the ever-burning night watch lights were also dimmer today.
When Zhang Yun stepped into the city gate, the soldiers on night watch all looked at him with awe.
Their armor was stained with blood, and some of them had bandages that were soaked with blood, but the determination in their eyes was undiminished.
No one spoke; they simply made way for him, watching him walk toward the inner city.
The air was filled with a mixture of the smells of blood and herbs.
The groans of the wounded came from the makeshift medical tent, occasionally interspersed with the doctor's urgent instructions.
Several support staff rushed past carrying a stretcher, on which lay a person whose face was covered with a white sheet—yet another night watchman who did not make it to dawn.
In the distance, he saw Lin Qiye and the others.
The members of the Nightfall Squad stood together, like a silent wall.
An Qingyu leaned against the broken wall, her fingers unconsciously stroking the blade of the scalpel;
Cao Yuan stood in the shadows, holding his sword, as if he had become one with the darkness.
Shen Qingzhu was squatting on the ground, wiping the blood-stained straight knife with a cloth;
And Lin Qiye—
Lin Qiye stood at the very front, his back straight as a spear, yet exuding an indescribable weariness.
Zhang Yun frowned and quickened his pace to walk over.
"what happened?"
His voice broke the silence. Lin Qiye looked up, his eyes somewhat vacant, as if he had just been pulled away from some distant thought.
The moonlight shone on his profile, revealing an unhealed scar.
"...You're back."
These words should have carried a sense of relief, but Lin Qiye's voice was dry, like sandpaper being rubbed.
Zhang Yun nodded, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before finally settling on the ground in front of them.
There, a corpse lay silently.
The body was covered with a plain white linen cloth, the edges of which were stained with dark red blood.
A pale hand protruded, its fingers slightly curled, with dirt and nail fragments still clinging to its between fingers—proof that it was trying to grasp something even in its dying moments.
Zhang Yun squatted down and lifted a corner of the white cloth.
What came into view was a middle-aged face, no more than fifty years old.
His eyes were half-open, his pupils dilated, yet one could still see the resentment within them;
A streak of blood clung to the corner of his mouth, like unspoken words; his brows were furrowed, as if he were still fighting against fate in his final moments.
The most shocking sight was his chest—a bowl-sized penetrating wound with charred edges, as if it had been directly pierced by some kind of high-temperature beam of light.
The uniform fabric around the wound had fused with the flesh and blood, emitting a faint burnt smell.
"Who is he?"
"Lu Qiu," Lin Qiye said in a low voice, "the night watchman of Chenlong Pass."
Zhang Yun was silent for a moment, then asked, "How did you die?"
"He relayed the message," Fang Zuo said, his voice hoarse. "When the East China Sea underwent its cataclysmic event, all communications were lost. He carried the distress call and fought his way through three waves of sea monsters..."
He choked up suddenly, wiping his face forcefully before continuing: "When we found him, he was barely clinging to life; his fingernails were digging into his flesh..."
Zhang Yun's fingers paused slightly.
He recalled that when he was fighting the Chimera in the depths of the East China Sea, he did feel an unusual energy fluctuation—at the time he thought it was the advance team of reinforcements, but he never expected it to be a path to survival torn open by a mortal with his flesh and blood.
“If it weren’t for him, there wouldn’t have been enough time to gather support,” Lin Qiye said in a low voice. “He saved the entire East Coast.”
Zhang Yun slowly covered the white cloth back up.
When his fingertips touched Lu Qiu's cold skin, a bone-chilling coldness crept up his fingers, causing him to unconsciously curl them up.
"...Is it worth it?"
The question slipped out of his mouth, and even he was taken aback for a moment.
But Lin Qiye answered him.
"worth."
Zhang Yun looked up and met Lin Qiye's eyes.
Those eyes shone brightly in the night, burning with a familiar obsession deep within—like the scorching fighting spirit emanating from the Godslayer Spear when he gripped it tightly.
"Because he is a member of the Night's Watch."
These words are light, yet carry immense weight.
When Lu Qiu's body was lifted up, Zhang Yun noticed a crudely embroidered amulet hanging from his waist—the red thread had faded, but the two characters for 'peace' on it were still clearly visible.
Fang Zuo and the other two watchmen carefully carried the stretcher, their movements as gentle as if they were handling fragile porcelain.
Lin Qiye suddenly spoke up: "Is there anything else he hasn't finished?"
Fang Zuo paused for a moment, then said in a low voice, "Lu Qiu couldn't let go of his son. Until his very last moment, he kept repeating that name..."
"son?"
"Yes." Fang Zuo's voice lowered even further. "His wife passed away last year, and now he only has his child left..."
"What is your name?"
“Lu Baoyou.” Fang Zuo gave a wry smile. “He said it was because when the child was born, the pomelo tree in the yard was laden with fruit…”
Zhang Yun stood there, suddenly feeling a tightness in his chest.
An image flashed before his eyes: a thin child standing under a tree laden with pomelos, looking up at the sky, waiting for his father who would never return.
He closed his eyes, suppressing the inexplicable irritation.
"Do his family... know about this?"
"Not yet," Fang Zuo shook his head. "According to regulations, it must be reported first, and then a designated person will notify the family..."
His voice trailed off, "I...I don't know how to face that child..."
Lin Qiye didn't say anything more, but just watched as Lu Qiu's body was carried away.
Under the moonlight, the amulet swayed gently, like a silent farewell.
As night deepened, the lights of Chenlong Pass lit up one by one.
Zhang Yun stood on the city wall, gazing into the distant darkness. The sea breeze, carrying a salty, damp scent, brushed against his cheeks, dispelling the post-battle heat.
Footsteps sounded behind him. Lin Qiye walked to his side, and the two stood side by side without either of them speaking first.
In the distance, the last logistics team was carrying torches as they withdrew from the battlefield.
The flickering firelight reflected off the crumbling city walls, casting countless mottled shadows, like the lingering spirits of the fallen.
After a long while, Lin Qiye suddenly said, "Zhang Yun."
"Ok?"
"I hope that one day... night can cover the entire Great Xia."
Zhang Yun turned her head to look at him.
Under the moonlight, Lin Qiye's profile was as sharp and resolute as if carved by a knife, but the unhealed scar at the corner of his eye made him appear somewhat vulnerable.
"Nightfall?"
“Hmm.” Lin Qiye said softly, “We are the fifth special team—'Nightfall,' but I don’t want us to be just ‘special’ forever.”
His gaze was fixed on the distance, where the first rays of dawn were trying to break through the darkness.
"I hope that one day, under the cover of night, there will be no more sacrifices."
Zhang Yun was silent for a moment, then suddenly smiled.
"They have big ambitions."
Lin Qiye smiled, but the smile was faint and quickly disappeared into the night.
"Yes, they have big ambitions."
A night breeze blew by, carrying a slightly cool scent.
Zhang Yun looked up at the sky.
The twinkling stars are like countless eyes watching over the world.
He suddenly felt as if he understood something.
The following morning, Lu Qiu's body was officially handed over to the logistics unit.
Lin Qiye stood at the city gate, watching the vehicle carrying the coffin slowly drive away.
In the morning light, the faded amulet swayed gently on the coffin, as if bidding a final farewell.
Zhang Yun walked to his side and handed him a cup of hot tea.
"Drink something."
Lin Qiye took it, and the warm touch from his palm dispelled some of the chill.
"Thank you."
Looking at the convoy gradually disappearing into the distance, Zhang Yun suddenly asked, "What do you plan to do?"
"what?"
"Lu Qiu's son."
Lin Qiye paused for a moment, then said in a low voice, "I will go see him."
"and then?"
“Then…” Lin Qiye raised his head, his eyes resolute, “I will let him know that his father is a hero.”
Zhang Yun smiled.
"Do you need help?"
Lin Qiye glanced at him and smiled.
"of course."
The two stood side by side, the morning light shining on them, casting long shadows.
...
The morning mist had not yet dissipated at the Shangjing military airport.
The eight members of the fifth special squad stood by the helipad, watching the military vehicles coming and going in the distance, their expressions varied.
"So...where's the person who was supposed to pick us up?" Baili Pangpang stood on tiptoe, peering around. "Didn't they say there would be a private car?"
"Wait a little longer," Lin Qiye said calmly.
"Wait?" Shen Qingzhu put her hands in her pockets, her eyes narrowing slightly behind her sunglasses. "Didn't Instructor Yuan say everything was arranged? He wouldn't have forgotten about us, would he?"
“Impossible.” An Qingyu pushed up her glasses and analyzed seriously, “Although Instructor Yuan is strict, he is always meticulous in his work and would not make such a mistake.”
"Then why isn't anyone coming to pick us up?" Baili Pangpang spread his hands. "Are we supposed to take a taxi to headquarters ourselves?"
"A taxi?" Zhang Yun leaned lazily against his luggage. "Are you sure a taxi can fit all of us?"