Chapter 325: Straying Path Returned

Chapter 325: The Lost Return

“They spared you?”

As Ji Xing's words fell, Chen Jian froze, rooted to the spot.

Yet after a fleeting moment of doubt, his mind snapped back into motion.

Indeed, this was, by far, the most plausible possibility.

With Ji Xing’s prowess and the Saint‑Blood squad’s gear, how could merely “hiding in the ruins” have secured their escape?

It was the mountain‑city folk who let her go.

And the reason they spared her—

most likely because she possessed, to some degree, a singular peculiarity.

What was this peculiarity?

No one knew.

Only a return to the mountain city could confirm it.

Chen Jian instantly grasped Ji Xing’s thought, yet he did not immediately consent to her request.

“Let’s postpone the question of whether to go to the mountain city for later discussion.”

“In truth, even if we head to the mountain city, you’re unlikely to get a chance to test your theory.”

“Because our strategy isn’t to clash head‑on with the mountain city, let alone engage in urban street fights or CQB with foes we barely comprehend.”

“Our basic plan is to cripple the entire city with relentless nuclear bombardment, then, during the window of their incapacitation, eliminate every enemy inside by non‑contact means.”

“All of them??”

Ji Xing stared at Chen Jian in astonishment.

“But there are still humans there.”

“What I meant was, I thought we’d try to make contact first.”

“No.”

Chen Jian shook his head without hesitation.

“Do not filter the mountain‑city humans.”

“They may indeed be human, yet everything they do has strayed far beyond our ‘united front.’”

“In my eyes, their standing is even lower than that of the Mechanical Cult.”

“There is no need to reason with them; the moment we confirm the beast tide was launched by the mountain city, the reasoning phase ends.”

“Understood.”

Ji Xing nodded gravely.

At that moment, a thought flashed through her mind.

Might there come a day when a Saint‑Blood like herself also loses the right to reason?

United Front

What does “United Front” mean?

She had already spent countless hours, perused endless documents, studied the pre‑cataclysmic history, and even learned the true origins of the so‑called “Huaxia Army.”

She had encountered the phrase “United Front” in many places, yet to this day she could not grasp its true significance.

Ji Xing’s gaze flickered a few times, as if noting her expression, and Chen Jian spoke:

“Don’t pigeonhole yourself; it’s a bad habit.”

As the words fell, Ji Xing lifted her head and gave an awkward smile.

“It’s not just about pigeonholing; indeed, the position of us Saint‑Bloods is growing ever more awkward.”

Ji Xing paused, then mused:

“Perhaps this, too, is a problem that needs solving?”

“Within the Huaxia Army, the impact we can wield, even as Saint‑Bloods, is limited.”

“Moreover, because of our unique status, we are naturally unable to forge stronger bonds with others.”

“Take the two hundred Saint‑Bloods dispatched with the refugees earlier; they still have not truly integrated into Base 011.”

“Not only have they not integrated, they remain markedly estranged.”

“In territories under the Saint‑Blood Hall’s control, such distance actually stabilizes order.”

“But here, the situation is entirely opposite.”

“Leave this matter for Shen Yue.”

Chen Jian cut Ji Xing off.

“That’s a problem he should solve— I can’t do everything myself, can I?”

Chen Jian’s expression was relaxed, as if the issue weighed nothing on his mind.

——

Yet in truth, he didn’t consider it a great matter at all.

Because he knew the alienation between Saint‑Bloods and ordinary folk wasn’t due to a narrow “us‑versus‑them” mindset, but a long‑standing inertia that thwarted effective cooperation.

And collaboration is often the foundation of deeper connections.

This issue will be swiftly resolved after the Saint‑Bloods are reorganized; there’s little cause for worry.

Conversely, another matter occupied Chen Jian’s thoughts more.

Family.

The Saint‑Bloods’ family issue.

Or, more precisely, their emotional affairs.

Any great power inevitably forges connections through personal feelings, which are often bound to family.

According to current intel, Chen Jian had yet to encounter a single Saint‑Blood with a family.

This, in fact, is one reason the organization is so fragile and tenuous it shatters at the slightest touch.

With that in mind, Chen Jian suddenly asked:

“By the way, have you ever imagined living like a normal person?”

“Living like a normal person?”

Ji Xing looked at Chen Jian, puzzled.

“Is my life now any different from a normal person’s?”

“That’s not what I’m getting at.”

Chen Jian waved his hand and said:

“I meant to love, marry, bear children—yes, most of the Sanctified Blood are infertile, but forming a family should be fine, right?”

Ji Xing blinked, unsure how to answer.

Primarily because she did not grasp Chen Jian’s intent in asking.

Perhaps he merely mentioned the Sanctified Blood and the question slipped out?

After a moment of careful thought, Ji Xing replied:

“Perhaps, if the chance ever comes, I’ll consider it.”

“But Sanctified Blood are short‑lived wretches; who would want to build a family with us?”

“Logically, given your average lifespan, you’re not exactly short‑lived.”

Chen Jian said solemnly:

“At least compared with those defenseless civilians, your lives are considerably longer.”

“That’s true.”

Ji Xing smiled, then, with a hint of teasing, asked:

“Commander, what do you think?”

“What do you think I should do? Find a man and marry like a normal woman?”

“If you need me to set the example, that’s not impossible.”

“Nonsense.”

Chen Jian rolled his eyes.

“Even in the apocalypse, marriage and family are serious matters; you can’t just wed on a whim.”

“Enough, I won’t discuss this with you.”

“Let me get to business—though the Beast Tide crisis has been averted, the surrounding monsters are not yet fully eradicated.”

“Moreover, we lack enough heavy weapons to clear them.”

“So I need you to do something.”

“Gather the Sanctified Blood, form a new battalion.”

“Then, with that battalion and limited gear, sweep the nearby monsters as thoroughly as possible.”

“You may bring Jin Zhong in as your deputy—he’s already quite experienced in this.”

“What do you say, can you manage it?”

Ji Xing nodded emphatically.

“No problem!”

While the Huaxia army busied itself restoring post‑war order, organizing production, climbing the tech tree, and preparing an offensive against the mountain city,

the Mechanical Cult tended to the displaced, returned to Jinling’s homeland, repaired the battered city, and cleansed the toxic environment.

In a corner almost forgotten, three people trudged through the wilderness.

The leader of the Imperial Guard gripped his compass, aligned it with the sun, and said gravely:

“We have utterly lost our bearings.”

“The magnetic field around us has been altered by some peculiar factor—perhaps a creature we know nothing of.”

“From the start, we have been heading the wrong way.”

“We thought we were returning toward the Xuyi defensive line, but in truth we were nowhere near it.”

“Five days now.”

“We must have trekked at least two hundred kilometres, right?”

“Yet this terrain… I’m still completely unfamiliar with it.”

“If we keep going like this, we’ll likely die trapped in this forest,” Zhang Chao, exhausted, exhaled slowly after hearing the words.

He then spoke:

“Is it possible that, in these past days, we’ve been circling around?”

“Perhaps we never strayed far—if we truly covered two hundred kilometres, we should have met a river or a road by now.”

“But all around is forest; not a path, not even a decent river.”

“Indeed.”

Liu Hao, nearby, agreed:

“We should have followed the road we discovered from the start.”

“It would have taken longer, but at least we wouldn’t be lost like this.”

“Ridiculous. After so much time, the Xuyi line should have fallen.”

“Even Jinling might already be lost.”

“And the three of us survived because of this absurd reason, in this absurd manner.”

“It’s simply—”

Liu Hao fell silent, and upon hearing his words, the Imperial Guard leader let out a sigh.

“It’s my fault.”

“I ignored your counsel and made the wrong choice.”

“But it’s too late to say that now—we must find the correct route and return to Jinling as quickly as possible.”

“The Church needs us, and the civilians there need us.”

“Has the radio been restored? Can we pick up any signal?”

“No.”

Zhang Chao spread his hands.

“How could it be restored? The radio’s battery is completely dead.”

“Damned it. Had we known the two Huaxia squads were leaving, we should have asked them for a new radio.”

“What good are weapons if we’ve walked for days without encountering a single monster?”

“Tell me, could it be that those monsters have already been wiped out?”

“Could it be that we have already won?”

“Who can say?”

The Imperial Guard leader’s expression shifted subtly.

“Hope so.”

“That would be the best outcome, but”

“Roar!”

His words had not yet finished when, in the distant woods, a massive roar suddenly rang out.

His motion froze in an instant, and then, as if by instinct, he swiftly gripped the rifle slung over his shoulder.

“Monster!”

He warned, while Zhang Chao and Liu Hao scattered away in an instant.

“Which direction?”

“South!”

Zhang Chao answered, then released the safety on his rifle.

“It doesn’t sound like an ordinary monster. Should we try to bypass it?”

“There’s no time!”

The commander of the Imperial Guard said in a deep voice:

“The sound is already close; we have no chance to go around!”

“Prepare for battle!”

“If it’s a fourth‑grade or lower monster, we’ll try to take it down!”

“If it’s something we cannot handle—”

“Bang!”

His command was cut off again, and in that split‑second flash, a fierce volley of gunfire erupted from the nearby trees.

“Bang bang bang bang———”

“Someone!”

A flicker of delight flashed in the commander’s eyes.

He was not afraid of monsters, nor of being slain by them.

What truly terrified him was a death without meaning.

Now, that very worry had finally been shattered.

Not far away, people were already fighting the beast; all he had to do was rush over and join the fray!

“Advance toward the gunfire!”

“The shots are not dense; their numbers must be few!”

“We must go help them, quickly!”

“Understood.”

“Copy.”

Zhang Chao and Liu Hao answered swiftly.

The three of them seized their weapons and surged forward along the direction of the sound.

The nearer they got, the more the monster’s agitation became evident.

A multitude of trees were toppled, and the lush forest beyond rose in successive clouds of dust.

The Imperial Guard commander clutched his rifle tightly, watching the forest’s movements with keen eyes.

From the direction of the fallen trees, he quickly deduced that this was not a mere encounter.

It was a “pursuit battle.”

Or, to put it plainly, a hunt!

Someone was chasing a lone monster!

The discovery thrilled him even more.

If so, it meant the hunting squad held the advantage.

Only three forces across the wasteland could ever gain the upper hand against a monster.

Either a sizable Holy Mechanist Church Sacred Legion,

or an elite Blood‑Saint squad,

or the Huaxia army.

At this moment, under the threat of the Beast Tide, all three factions shared the same stance.

Whomever he would meet next, it would mean that the three of them could finally escape this bewildering forest!

The commander quickened his pace, and the gunfire drew ever nearer.

At last, after crossing a modest, vegetation‑clad hill, he saw the beast.

——

To be precise, he saw the creature’s corpse.

Scattered bullet holes dotted the body, and around the monster’s neck the perforations grew denser.

Blood surged continuously as the corpse twitched and twisted, rolling across the ground.

The commander stared in stunned silence, a bewildering thought flashing through his mind.

What on earth…?

These people, armed only with rifles, managed to kill a fourth‑grade—or perhaps even a third‑grade—monster?

How could they have done it??

The commander stepped forward, and the instant his foot left the ground, a figure dropped from above, a blade pressed to his throat.

The opponent moved with uncanny lightness, speed at its zenith.

A Blood‑Saint?

The commander halted his stride.

“We mean no harm!”

He lowered his gun.

“We are from the Mechanical God Church’s Imperial Guard!”

“We got lost nearby, heard the gunfire, and came to assist.”

“Are you Blood‑Saints?”

“Can you tell us where this is?!”

He honestly declared his identity, his hands already away from his weapon.

The Blood‑Saint across from him seemed to accept his explanation, about to speak.

But at that moment, a voice rang out from the side of the two.

“Guo Xu?!”

The Imperial Guard commander— or rather the man called Guo Xu—turned his head in astonishment.

In the instant that followed, he caught sight of a familiar silhouette emerging from the trees.

His eyes flew open in astonishment.

“Jin Zhong?!”

(End of chapter)