Monarch of Evernight

What the old man had given him was a product full of violent aesthetics—the muzzle was the size of a fist, the barrel was as thick as a finger, and the body of the firearm itself was built of steel and covered in origin arrays. It was just that the patterns on the arrays were so coarse that their function could only be considered a basic grade-five.

The mechanical parts of the gun were simple and primitive, with the loading and ejection both manually operated. There wasn’t a single support function to be found. There should be no problem even if one were to use this clumsy but sturdy weapon like a hammer.

This origin gun’s overall design was fairly ancient, probably similar to weapons from over three hundred years ago. However, only weapons of such barbaric design could be used freely in the neutral lands. Without special protection, intricate arrays simply couldn’t withstand the erosion of the void origin power here and would be destroyed before long. A weapon like the Carol of Shadows could withstand the erosion due to its valuable material composition, but even so, it would still suffer some reduction to firepower.

Perhaps only the Ten Grand Magnums would be able to exert their full power in the neutral lands.

The old man hauled a wooden chest over and said, “This box is full of origin bullets for this gun.”

Qianye opened up the chest and saw rows of physical origin bullets inside. He didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry when he saw that the projectiles were as large as a hand grenade. Perhaps only Zhao Yuying might love this gun.

The shortcomings of this weapon were also quite obvious. Apart from its cumbersome operation and difficulty in carrying, its range was only over a hundred meters. The origin arrays Cui Yuanhai had installed were all for increased firepower. There was simply no consideration for accuracy and range. Then again, there was simply no need for accuracy within a hundred meters. With Qianye’s marksmanship skills, he could hit anything just by pointing at it.

As an outcome of pursuing extreme firepower, this weapon was even more destructive than Zhao Yuying’s Mountain Splitter, and it was even more powerful at closer range.

“Pick a name for it,” Qianye said.

Cui Yuanhai shook his head continuously. “Absolutely not! If it wasn’t for this accursed place, how could I have built such a... thing. If this spreads, my life’s reputation will be completely destroyed.”

Qianye didn’t force the issue. At this point, Nighteye had returned with an airship from the small town. Qianye loaded the old man’s luggage onto the airship along with necessary equipment and local products like wood and golden-threaded snails. After all the preparations were complete, Cui Yuanhai took to the air and left.

“He’ll be fine over there, won’t he?” Nighteye sounded somewhat worried.

“I hope so. After all, the Xue family has some power in Port City. The old man will pay them a visit after arriving there. If those two fellows are smart enough, they’ll take care of the old man in our stead.”

Nighteye said, “The Wolf King has probably connected Gary’s death to the Xue family. Besides, the two of them are of the younger generation and have limited influence on the family’s policymaking. If the Wolf King really targets the Xue family, they might actually toss the two kids out to ensure survival.”

Qianye was greatly impressed. “You’re awesome!”

Nighteye shot Qianye a glance. “Of course, I didn’t read the Comprehensive History of the Empire for nothing.”

Seeing this, Qianye felt that there was something wrong but couldn’t quite point out what it was. Eventually, Nighteye chuckled while covering her mouth. “What, are you thinking that I’m no longer easy to deceive?” Only then did he come to a realization.

Nighteye had been slowly recovering from the physical and mental damage since Qianye saved her from the imperial military. He had gotten used to her being weak and relying on him for everything. He was even secretly worried when she tried to fight against Xue Ding.

During this period, Qianye had forgotten that Nighteye was once the princess of the Monroe clan, a primo with talents exceeding even the Holy Son Edward. The titles Holy Son and Princess weren’t decided based on the nobility of one’s bloodline. They needed to prove themselves in cultivation and in battle to qualify for their respective roles.

Even though they require a degree of protection for their maturation phase, it wasn’t complete isolation. The ancient clans would arrange for suitable enemies to polish their scions. Nighteye was dispatched to the battlefield soon after joining the Monroe clan. This could be considered protected training, but Nighteye managed to prove herself with her outstanding rate of advancement.

At the Holy Son’s level, there would be no more protection. He needed to be able to uphold great responsibilities and oversee an entire region on the battlefield.

None of the dark races’ famed geniuses were simple characters, and Nighteye was no exception.

After thinking about this, Qianye was filled with an inexplicable sensation. Sometimes, he would rather she stay as a weak girl that needed his protection, but that wasn’t the case in reality.

Qianye suddenly recalled Song Zining’s words. “Don’t ever find a woman so intelligent that you can’t deceive her.”

It would seem the seventh young master was speaking from his own experience.

After making ample preparations, Qianye and Nighteye traveled through the forest and arrived at the small town. Qianye had killed the werewolf viscount, as well as the wargs—it was about time the Wolf King’s Guard realized something was wrong here.

A complicated landscape like the small town was the most advantageous for Qianye and Nighteye.

At this moment, there was a werewolf elder in the town square. He was so old that he couldn’t stand straight and had to lean on a staff for support. His greyish white hair was decorated with three feathers, and there were colored cloth-strips wrapped around the ordinary-looking staff in his hand.

People familiar with Evernight History would recognize this as the attire of the ancient werewolf tribes from tens of thousands of years ago. It was just that only members with prestige and power would be able to don such feathers as decoration. The greater the number of feathers, the higher his status. Three feathers meant that this werewolf was at least an elder in the tribe.

At this moment, the werewolf viscount was on his very last breath, meeting this werewolf elder for the last time.

The old werewolf waved his staff, shooting out several beams of light that converged into the viscount’s corpse. This radiance was rather mysterious, causing the viscount’s body to regain some vitality. The latter moved slightly, opened his eyes, and looked up with great difficulty. However, his eyes were full of puzzlement and he couldn’t even speak. Apparently, the body had regained some life, but his consciousness was already dead.

The werewolf elder pulled back his staff. He was already drenched in sweat after this brief moment of work, and the creases on his face seemed to have grown deeper. Watching the viscount’s immobile body, he stamped down with his staff and cursed, “Useless thing!”

Werewolves possessed powerful vitality and would be able to hold out for a period of time even with their vitals shattered. Qianye had impaled the werewolf on the pole in order to torment him and send word back to the Wolf King’s Guard.

Who would’ve thought the werewolf couldn’t stand the pain and, having lost all desire to live, passed away after a short while. In the eyes of the brave werewolves, the inability to withstand pain was a classic sign of cowardice.

At this point, a werewolf soldier walked over and passed a wooden board to the elder, saying, “We found this on the roof where the original war banner was. Maybe it’s a symbol?”

The werewolf elder looked at the simple X on the board and exclaimed, “What the heck is this?”

“It’s probably a war banner, totem, or a crest. We also found these.”

The werewolf soldier brought back some broken wooden boards. They had already reconnected them to the point where one could make out the fantastic drawings and runes on them. These wooden boards were of the same shape and size as the one on the roof, which led to them guessing that this was perhaps a certain war banner.

The werewolf elder looked at them for a long while before saying, “How ugly! You’ve actually managed to find these things, but did you find any clues regarding this person?”

The werewolf soldiers whispered, “He didn’t leave any scent at all. Additionally, the stench of blood here is so intense that it interferes with our perception. We’re also a bit too close to the Black Grove.”

“Useless things!” The old werewolf cursed again, but he knew that the neutral lands deeply affected the werewolves’ sense of smell. The Black Grove, especially, was a nightmare for their race.

The Black Grove could absorb any and all smells. Even werewolves with the sharpest olfactory senses would only smell one thing there—the scent of the Black Grove. Additionally, if the grove were to suffer an attack, it would emit a type of irritating smell. Such gases had no effect on Qianye, but it was a nightmarish odor for the werewolves and their sharp senses. The weaker ones would find their noses swollen, red, and painful for many days.

Thus, the werewolf elder couldn’t think of a good idea despite his anger. All he could do was have his subordinates continue their search. They needed to find clues even if they had to flip the entire town over.

One of the werewolves kicked open the door to a certain house. He then entered with his long saber in tow and began checking everywhere. The stench inside was so strong that he trembled after entering the room. During this brief moment of distraction, he felt a chill from his back as a vampiric blade entered his heart.

Drained of essence blood, the werewolf soldier collapsed without a sound. He didn’t even get the chance to call out. Qianye appeared from behind like a specter and left the house to hide inside another.

Dozens of soldiers had already spread out to search the small town. The elder, on the other hand, was pacing around the square. He couldn’t help but feel fidgety and restless, almost as though something bad was about to happen. But he was old, so old that his once sharp intuition had become somewhat dull.

At this moment, hidden within the shadows, a gun muzzle was slowly following him around.