Chapter 1239: Corpse Looting Team

Chapter 1239: The Corpse-Scavenging Squad

War along the left flank grew ever more frequent.

At every moment, clashes erupted in different locations—like scattered sparks flashing across the void.

Though none were large in scale, most involving only about a thousand combatants on either side, their spread was already taking on the character of a creeping conflagration.

War, after all, is a unified whole, serving a purpose.

Thus, whether grand campaigns or minor skirmishes along the left flank, each had its intent.

And if enough of these intents were fulfilled, they would coalesce into an overarching trajectory—one that would ultimately realize the grandest objective.

This was the essence of war, and of strategy itself.

Just as Xu Qing and his companions had deduced from piecing together all available intelligence: the deployment in the central sector of the left flank was complete.

Yet even as that deployment solidified, small-scale engagements between divine beings and cultivators along the front lines intensified with increasing frequency—a clear signal of what lay beneath.

Both sides were using these incessant skirmishes as cover.

At this very moment, amid the countless sparks of battle flickering between the Fourth and Fifth Star Rings, one such clash unfolded within a region thick with drifting asteroids.

There, blood soaked the void as two forces clashed in brutal combat.

From afar, thunderous detonations echoed endlessly—collapsing formations, shattering weapons, clashing essences of alien divinity and immortal qi surging in violent waves.

One side sought to break through; the other stood firm in resistance.

The struggle was ferocious.

Beyond the immediate fray, perched upon scattered asteroids, a group of nearly a hundred figures watched intently.

Clad mostly in ash-gray and black, their eyes gleamed like vultures’, scanning the battlefield’s ebb and flow, ready to flee at the first sign of danger.

Among them stood an old man, murmuring lowly to a nearby cultivator:

“I told you correctly, didn’t I? That battle up ahead won’t end so soon. By my reckoning, it’ll last at least another half-hour.”

“Had I not seen you months ago and recognized your origins—and sensed your tokens just now—I wouldn’t have called you over after your arrival.”

His gaze swept over the dozen or so newcomers before him, sensing the chilling aura of bloodshed clinging to them. His heart trembled slightly—especially when his eyes fell upon their leader, whose killing intent radiated like a storm barely contained.

“You’ve grown quite famous lately,” he continued. “To cross the central warzone and reach the front lines… impressive. But since you’ve chosen to join a scavenging unit, there are things you must understand.”

These dozen figures were, of course, Xu Qing and his companions.

Having volunteered for duty, they’d arrived here two hours prior—only to be intercepted by this old man stationed at the periphery before they could approach the battlefield.

Mutual recognition had been swift: both parties belonged to corpse-scavenging squads.

Recognizing Xu Qing’s group, the elder had extended a gesture of goodwill and invited them to join.

Now, hearing his words, Xu Qing exchanged glances with Xing Huanzi and the others before bowing respectfully toward the elder, humbly seeking instruction.

The old man gave a slight nod and resumed speaking.

“Our title may be ‘battlefield cleaners,’ but since you’ve chosen to join us, you likely already know the truth. Put politely, we tidy up after battles. Less politely—we loot corpses.”

“To clean a battlefield, you must wait until the fighting ends. Otherwise, you’re not scavenging—you’re joining the fight.”

“Remember this well: actual warfare belongs to those military cultivators. We rarely intervene. Our task begins only after they’ve finished.”

“For our presence might disrupt their formations—and besides, we bear another duty: to secure escape routes for our troops should they suffer defeat.”

As he spoke these last words, the elder’s expression turned grave.

Xu Qing and his companions nodded solemnly, their own faces growing serious.

In truth, they’d never intended to enter the active battlefield—they merely wished to draw closer, so they could harvest Source Essence the moment hostilities ceased.

After all, harvesting Source Essence was something they considered themselves skilled at.

Ever since joining the Provisional Resource Bureau, they’d performed such tasks countless times—not only completing assigned quotas but secretly pocketing substantial amounts for themselves.

But previously, their harvests had always come from living sources. This would be their first time extracting from divine corpses.

Seeing that his words had landed, the elder’s sternness softened. He cleared his throat.

“All that I just said—you may take it as formalities. Truth be told, we don’t actually guard retreat routes, and entering mid-battle rarely disrupts military arrays. Those are just explanations for outsiders.”

“What matters now—the real rules among ourselves—is this: never arrive too early. If you do, death may find you before you know it.”

“Wait until the battle ends. Only then is it safe. And remember—war’s outcome is never certain. Always be ready to flee the moment our troops begin to lose.”

“You’re still too green. Had I not stopped you just now, you’d have drawn too close—and who knows how many of you would already be dead.”

“One more thing: never provoke conflict with military cultivators…”

Before the elder could finish, Xu Qing’s expression shifted abruptly. He and Xing Huanzi simultaneously raised their heads toward the distant battlefield—and the old man’s voice trailed off as he, too, snapped his gaze in that direction.

There, the immortal qi surged dramatically, accompanied by rising cheers echoing through the void.

Faintly visible in the distance, a Daoist banner was being planted firmly into the field.

“We’ve won!”

Eyes alight, the elder wasted no time on further instructions. With a sudden lurch, he shouted to his squad:

“Everyone—time to work!”

Even as his voice rang out, he shot forward like an arrow, his team scattering behind him—lips licked, wings spread like vultures diving upon carrion, hurtling toward the battlefield with desperate speed.

Xu Qing and his companions immediately followed suit.

In mere moments, they pierced through the asteroid belt like blades, arriving at the heart of the carnage.

Before them sprawled a vast expanse littered with divine corpses, pools of god-blood, severed limbs, and shattered artifacts—everywhere, the detritus of slaughter.

Cultivator corpses lay strewn about as well.

The main army had already withdrawn—but a contingent of military cultivators remained, busily scouring the field and harvesting Source Essence.

The elder and his squad paid them no mind. Accustomed to such scenes, they charged straight for untouched corpses—some slicing, some harvesting, some stowing away spoils—moving in flawless coordination, astonishingly swift, practiced to perfection.

Within a dozen breaths, they’d already stripped entire sections clean—leaving nothing behind.

Every divine corpse was harvested thoroughly; every cultivator’s remains were respectfully set aside, untouched by desecration.

Watching this, Xu Qing’s group couldn’t help but narrow their eyes—especially Zhou Zhengli and the others, whose hearts filled with solemn awe.

These scavengers were even more adept at corpse-harvesting than they were—particularly in speed, which bordered on the uncanny.

“This lot… they specialize in corpse-scavenging. They’re nothing like us!”

Xu Qing and the others exchanged glances, then immediately charged into the battlefield to begin harvesting.

Yet it had to be admitted—even though they hailed from the Provisioning Bureau, their harvesting speed still lagged far behind the old man’s, and their work lacked his clean efficiency.

Moreover, harvesting from corpses was inherently less rewarding. Since the deities were already dead, the residual Source Essence they left behind was inert and significantly diminished in quantity compared to when they were alive. Thus, even after arduous effort, the amount of Source Essence gathered remained pitifully small.

Fortunately, there were many corpses.

Therefore, to obtain a sufficient quantity, one simply had to process more divine cadavers.

The corpse-harvesting teams, it seemed, followed their own unspoken rules: once a divine corpse was claimed by someone—even if the harvesting was still underway—no one else would contest it.

Xu Qing and his companions quickly noticed this custom and adhered to it.

Still, there were those who seized anyway.

Not among the corpse-harvesters themselves, but among the military cultivators left behind at the site.

These soldiers were often overbearing; regardless of whether a corpse was already being harvested, they would brazenly stride over, their expressions tinged with varying degrees of disdain and resignation.

This was understandable—they were, after all, the ones who had slain these deities…

Yet all spoils of war, including loot, fell under centralized allocation, so they had no grounds for complaint.

To placate morale, however, each legion, after withdrawing its main forces post-battle, would leave behind a few personnel to harvest remains.

Such practice was tacitly accepted.

The old man’s corpse-harvesting team clearly had long grown accustomed to this. Upon encountering military cultivators, they would instantly abandon their current target, relying on their superior speed to seek out the next.

But Xu Qing’s group, new to corpse-harvesting, was noticeably slower—and thus became prime targets for plunder by the military cultivators.

Thus, after several hours, what had once been a vast battlefield bore scarcely any trace of its former chaos.

All cultivator corpses had been neatly collected—

taken away by their respective military units.

As for the divine cadavers, the old man’s team had harvested nearly sixty percent.

The military cultivators took thirty percent.

And the final ten percent… belonged to Xu Qing and his companions.

When the cleanup concluded and the military cultivators departed, Xu Qing and the others stood in quiet contemplation, each nursing private thoughts.

The old man, observing their demeanor, approached with a smile, his pouches bulging with gains.

“You lot seem frustrated—angry about getting robbed, eh? Get used to it. After all, they’re the ones who killed them; taking their share is only natural.”

“With more practice, your harvesting speed will improve.”

Having said this, the old man bid them farewell, waved to his team, and strode off, leaving the battlefield behind.

Long after everyone had gone, deep within the asteroid’s central zone, Xu Qing and his companions remained lost in thought.

The old man’s assumption had been mistaken.

Their silence stemmed neither from helplessness nor resentment.

After all, these deities had been slain by the military cultivators—it was only right they claimed part of the spoils. Indeed, had the roles been reversed, and strangers tried to harvest from deities they themselves had killed, they too would have objected.

What truly occupied their minds was this:

“Our speed can’t match the professional harvesters, and we’ve no justification to wrest anything from the military…”

“But if corpse-harvesting teams only enter after the battle ends…”

“What if… we entered the battlefield earlier?”

As this thought dawned, Xu Qing and the others lifted their heads, meeting each other’s eyes.

In every gaze flickered the same sharp, knowing light.