Southern Frontier Prisoner

Southern Frontier, Hundred Thousand Mountains.

Inside a vast, dark, damp cave, a drop of water fell from the stalactites hanging upside down from the vaulted ceiling and cliff walls. With a "drip," it struck the brow of a delicate-looking young man of thirteen or fourteen below.

The young man's lips were bluish-purple. Startled by the drop, he shuddered violently and slowly opened his eyes.

He stared at the pitch-black vault overhead in a daze for a moment, then struggled to sit up.

"Hiss..."

The pain surging from all over his body made him suck in a cold breath.

Yet his will seemed remarkably tough. He endured the pain and forcibly sat up, leaning back against the damp, slick cave wall behind him.

His movement set off a series of clanking sounds, followed by waves of groans rising and falling around him.

The young man jumped, looking warily around him. Only then did he realize that, within the surrounding darkness, there were at least two or three hundred shadowy figures.

A heavy shackle was fastened around one of his wrists. A chain extended from it, linking to the shackles on the hands of more than a dozen people nearby, stringing them all together.

Where am I? Startled, the young man was immediately filled with doubt.

He pondered silently for a while, only to discover in horror that he had no answer.

His mind was a muddled mess. Every memory of his past was blurred beyond recognition; he could not remember anything at all. The only thing he could recall was his own name: Yuan Ming.

He had lost his memory!

Before Yuan Ming could figure out what was happening, a heavy rumble suddenly sounded in the distance, shaking everyone to the core. It was as though a massive iron gate had been pushed open.

Immediately afterward, firelight tore a gap through the darkness. Seven or eight burly men holding torches, clad in animal hides and wearing horn-handled curved blades at their waists, entered while surrounding a tall, half-naked man.

Under the flickering firelight, Yuan Ming saw that their skin was the color of red dates. Their muscles bulged, sharply outlined, and they radiated an aura of primal savagery.

The half-naked brute at the front was especially striking. His muscle lines were even harder and more defined than those of the others, and his whole body brimmed with explosive power. He looked like a temple's Attendant of Strength.

Their hairstyles, however, were exceptionally strange. All the hair around their heads had been shaved off, leaving only a lock at the crown, braided into a thick plait.

As Yuan Ming watched them, the words "Southern Barbarians" inexplicably surfaced in his mind.

With the rise of that thought, fragments of memory seemed to piece themselves together in his mind, and scattered images appeared.

Those images showed bustling, prosperous markets, magnificent estates, and crowds dressed in silk and satin. Then he looked down at his own garments, worn down into strips of cloth. This made Yuan Ming certain that he and these Southern Barbarians were absolutely not of the same kind.

Just as Yuan Ming was full of confusion, the bare-chested brute at the front suddenly glanced in his direction and rattled off a string of strange words.

The pronunciation sounded utterly different from the language in Yuan Ming's memories, yet he understood it at once.

This was the Southern Barbarian language!

The man had said, "This is the last area. Move your hands and feet quickly. Don't miss anyone."

The Southern Barbarians in animal hides stepped forward with their torches. Each took out an object that looked like the bone of some beast, with a thumb-sized red stone embedded in it.

"Who are you? What are you doing?" Seeing one of them approach, Yuan Ming forced himself to stay calm and asked in the Southern Barbarian language.

Hearing this, the bare-chested brute cast him a surprised glance. But the Southern Barbarian who had approached him let out a low roar and swung his torch at Yuan Ming's face.

Yuan Ming twisted aside. The torch grazed his shoulder and smashed into the wall, scattering sparks.

The flying sparks frightened a person beside Yuan Ming, who let out a "Wah!" and curled up desperately, forcing himself into a crevice beneath the rock wall.

By the torchlight, Yuan Ming saw that the man's upper body was bare, while his lower half was wrapped in a skirt woven from withered grass. His body was blackened with grime, his frame dry and skinny, and his hair a tangled mess. He looked no different from a Wildling.

The Southern Barbarian bent down, grabbed the Wildling's ankle, and with a slight tug pulled him out. Then, amid the Wildling's violent struggles, he held the beast bone above his head.

A cluster of blue, ghostfire-like light first lit up on the beast bone. Then the red stone embedded in its center suddenly began to glow as well.

Yet the faint red light had barely appeared before it immediately went out again.

Seeing this, the bare-chested brute frowned slightly and shook his head.

The Southern Barbarian gripping the Wildling's ankle did not hesitate. He drew the curved blade at his waist and chopped it down at the Wildling's head.

With a wet splurt, a miserable scream rang out. The Wildling's struggling immediately weakened, and he gradually fell silent.

"Th-they killed someone..." Warm blood splashed across Yuan Ming's cheek. His breath was filled with the nauseating stench of blood, and his mind went blank.

A chill rose from the bottom of his heart, stiffening his entire body until he even forgot to keep trying to evade them.

Of course, he could not have escaped anyway.

His wrist was still bound by an ice-cold chain to that corpse, which was not yet cold.

Before he could recover his senses, the light before him dimmed, and a beast bone was already being held over his head.

As the ghostly blue flame lit up, a red glow like candlelight appeared—but it did not immediately go out.

Only after several breaths did the red glow slowly fade.

The burly man in animal hides holding the beast bone pressed one hand against the hilt of his blade and turned to look at the bare-chested brute.

After a brief pause, the latter seemed somewhat hesitant, but he still nodded.

Only then did the animal-hide brute release his hand from his weapon and turn toward someone else.

Once he had moved away, Yuan Ming finally began to emerge from his terror.

He forcibly suppressed all his doubts and shock, then looked around. Only then did he discover that nearly everyone bound by chains around him was a disheveled Wildling.

Like him, they were tested one by one with the beast bone held over their heads, all in a state of panic and helplessness.

Anyone whose red light flashed and vanished was cleanly killed with a single blade. Only those whose red light could persist for a short while survived.

For a time, wails, cries of alarm, and the metallic clashing of dragged chains rose and fell without end.

The process lasted for more than two hours. By the end, the entire cave was permeated with a thick stench of blood.

Once the bare-chested brute saw that all the tests had been completed, he began rattling off orders again.

Then Yuan Ming and the dozen or so survivors were removed from the chains, fitted with separate handcuffs and leg irons, and taken aside to wait.

Yuan Ming felt deeply uneasy. He did not know what these people intended to do, nor did he dare ask.

Still, from the Southern Barbarians' actions just now, it was not difficult to see that they had passed some kind of selection. They probably would not be killed for the time being.

At that moment, the bare-chested brute at the front suddenly took out a silver-white bell about an inch long from his waist. Holding it upright by its wooden handle, he shook it.

"Clang..."

A clear, ethereal chime rang out, echoing through the empty cave.

The instant Yuan Ming heard it, he felt as though his head had been struck by a heavy blow. There was no pain, but intense dizziness swept over him, and even the scenery before his eyes split into layer after layer of afterimages.

Through the hazy illusion, Yuan Ming saw spiritual lights rise above the corpses in the cave, followed by one blurry shadow after another drifting out.

After those shadows floated out from above the corpses, they merged one after another until they finally became identical to the bodies below.

Yuan Ming jolted in fright, and his mind cleared somewhat.

Only then did he realize in horror that those drifting shadows were not an illusion. They were all real.

They all hung their heads, their feet suspended in the air as they floated above the corpses.

Yuan Ming swallowed hard and looked at the bare-chested brute, only to see him shake the bell once more.

"Clang"

The same ethereal sound rang out. This time, Yuan Ming did not feel any obvious dizziness. He watched helplessly as all the suspended shadows drifted toward the bell in the bare-chested brute's hand.

As they drew near, the shadows transformed into specks of light one after another. Once they merged into the bell, they vanished without a trace.

Could these shadows be those people's souls? The thought surfaced in Yuan Ming's mind, sending another chill down his spine.

Had he not passed that mysterious test, not only would his head and body have been separated by now, but his soul would likely have been taken away like those people's as well.

"The harvest is fairly good. Thirteen of them. All right, return and rendezvous. Prepare for the journey back," the bare-chested brute said as he put away the bell and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

It seemed that even shaking the bell twice had placed no small burden on him.

Yuan Ming stared blankly at the bell in the brute's hand. Though he did not know what it was, these Southern Barbarians were clearly no ordinary people.

Three days later, within the Hundred Thousand Mountains, in a valley shrouded by poisonous mist.

A large procession, every face covered with a piece of green animal hide, marched through poisonous miasma streaked with blue and purple.

These people were clearly divided into two groups. One group consisted of Southern Barbarians dressed in animal hides with curved blades at their waists, numbering only twenty or so. They were positioned at both ends of the procession, while a few moved through the ranks from time to time to maintain order. The other group consisted of prisoners with bare upper bodies and shackles on their hands, lined up in a long dragon as they silently lowered their heads and marched.

Yuan Ming was among the latter, stumbling deep and shallow through the crowd as he followed the group forward with difficulty.

For the past few days, they had traveled through mountains, rivers, and mud. He had not spoken a single word, nor had anyone questioned him. Yet from the few exchanges between the Southern Barbarians, Yuan Ming learned that the place they were now in was called the "Southern Frontier," and that their destination was Jade Luo Cave.

According to those Southern Frontier brutes, it was a place blessed by the gods, a holy land for cultivation. People like them had been selected and sent there to receive the gods' gifts.

Given these people's sinister methods, Yuan Ming did not believe Jade Luo Cave could be any good place, nor could what awaited him possibly be anything good. But right now, they were the knife and he was the fish on the chopping block. He could only take one step at a time and see where it led.

Worse still, none of his memories had returned. He still could not remember who he was.

But the Central Plains in his remaining memories were far more prosperous than this uncivilized land. He ought to have come from there—but why had he traveled here from the Central Plains, only to suffer such grievous injuries? Had villains set him up, or had enemies pursued him?

Countless thoughts churned in Yuan Ming's heart, but he secretly swore that he would uncover the truth behind all of this!

Fortunately amid misfortune, these Southern Frontier brutes did not make things any harder for them along the way.

During the journey, they distributed food to the prisoners on time. Though it was only unpalatable dried fruit and pitifully little jerky, they also applied herbal salve to treat their injuries.

It was only while being treated that Yuan Ming discovered he had more than thirty wounds of varying sizes. There were lacerations, abrasions, puncture wounds, and even one broken rib.

The herbal salve the Southern Frontier brutes applied to him was no mere perfunctory treatment. In only three short days, nearly all his external wounds had healed. Only the broken rib could not recover so quickly, though aside from some pain, it did not hinder his movement.

Now that they had entered this valley of poisonous miasma, the Southern Frontier brutes had even issued them animal hides to ward off poison. This instead made Yuan Ming all the more cautious.