The Pit of the Dead

After a day and a night of rain, a hand reached out from the Pit of the Dead outside the military camp.

The sentry on night watch was so frightened that he dropped his lantern and scrambled back to the camp to report to the Platoon Leader.

The Platoon Leader and the soldier grabbed long sabers and lanterns, then went out to investigate.

They looked out into the downpour and saw a figure sitting motionless among the piled corpses.

The Platoon Leader held up his lantern and shone it from afar. It was a soldier in a tattered regulation leather cuirass, leaning against a pile of heads with his back to the light.

Gripping his saber tightly, the Platoon Leader called in a low voice, "Who's there?"

Through the curtain of rain came a vague voice. "I'm a soldier from the Vanguard Camp. I'm badly wounded and can't move."

Can't move?

The Platoon Leader's expression eased. He approached with his saber in hand. "So you're one of our brothers from the Vanguard Camp. Come on, I'll help you up."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Now die."

The long saber cleaved through the rain in a flash of cold light, slashing straight for the man's neck.

The Platoon Leader's strike was vicious, and he had timed it perfectly. The man's head was severed cleanly and rolled deep into the corpse pit.

One strike, one kill!

The Platoon Leader grinned savagely as he drew back his saber, then his expression suddenly changed. "Wha—"

A figure shot skyward from the pile of corpses beneath the man. A cold, sharp gleam in his hand swept across the Platoon Leader's arm.

The arm and saber were cut clean off and sent flying. A spray of blood burst from the stump, scattered by the driving wind and rain.

Pain seared through him. The Platoon Leader stared in disbelief, the reflection of a figure leaping high into the air in his pupils.

A short sword loomed before his eyes.

With a thud, the short sword pierced his eye socket.

The agony lasted only an instant. Then came utter darkness.

A few breaths later.

The youth pulled the short sword from the Platoon Leader's eye socket.

The Platoon Leader's corpse toppled backward, stiff as a board, and crashed into the mud.

The youth stood silently where he was, short sword in hand.

The night rain pattered down, washing the mud and water from the youth's face and revealing a pair of bright eyes.

Suddenly, the youth's gaze sharpened.

Beneath his feet, the Platoon Leader's belly ballooned. A strange gurgling came from within.

The youth drew a deep breath, gripped the sword with both hands, and drove it with all his strength into the Platoon Leader's belly.

A shriek that sounded nothing like a human's rang out. Black mist sprayed from the Platoon Leader's belly, while something beneath his skin writhed and struggled desperately.

With a tearing sound, the belly split open and a pitch-black, withered claw thrust out.

Before the terrifying ghost claw could do anything, the youth gripped the sword hilt in both hands and twisted hard.

"Die!"

The youth spat out a single word.

The thrashing corpse abruptly stiffened. The ghost claw, too, slowly drooped in reluctant defeat and stopped moving.

Everything fell silent.

Foul-smelling black blood slowly spread beneath the Platoon Leader's corpse.

Only after seeing the black blood did the youth relax slightly and wrench out his short sword.

He lowered his head to look at the bizarre corpse on the ground and muttered under his breath.

"Such a strange situation. I wonder what the mission reward will be?"

With a hint of anticipation, the youth called out, "System!"

One breath, two breaths, three breaths.

Time passed in silence, but nothing happened.

In the darkness, only the wind and rain went on without end.

The youth tilted his head in surprise and looked around. Behind him was the Pit of the Dead, beneath his feet was the demon's corpse, and not far ahead, a soldier had collapsed on the ground, trembling so badly that even his lips shook.

"Strange."

The youth was puzzled. "Is the mission not complete yet?"

The system's silence meant that the mission was not complete.

The youth looked at the soldier and suddenly felt that he had overlooked something.

He thought for a moment, then struggled to take a step forward, nearly falling into the mud.

He had been so focused on killing the demon that he hadn't noticed the pain. Now that he had come back to himself, he felt it everywhere. It hurt like hell.

His legs felt as if they were filled with lead. Every step took all the strength he had.

Something was very wrong.

At the moment the apocalypse arrived, he had used everything he had to kill the Final Demon Lord. But instead of logging out of the game, he had ended up in this inexplicable place, covered in pain and wounds.

Where was this?

Frowning, the youth limped over to the soldier and saluted.

"Gu Qingshan of the Brave Cavalry Camp, reporting for duty."

"You—you—you killed your superior!" the soldier stammered.

"He wasn't human." Gu Qingshan studied the soldier as he spoke.

The soldier wore an ancient regulation leather cuirass, without even a Spiritual Power drive system. No matter how neglected a unit was, it wouldn't wear such an antique.

Gu Qingshan looked down at himself and found that he, too, was dressed in antiques. All his original equipment had vanished.

How strange.

The soldier glanced quickly toward the Pit of the Dead. The Platoon Leader's bizarre corpse still lay motionless in the mud.

The soldier hesitated. "But... but when you killed him, how did you know he wasn't human?"

Gu Qingshan spread his hands. "I was just being cautious. He made the first move."

Gu Qingshan went back and dragged the Platoon Leader's corpse over to the soldier, letting him examine it closely.

"Look. This is a Skin Peeling Blood Demon."

Gu Qingshan used his short sword to peel open the Platoon Leader's belly. Inside was a completely black monster with slit pupils and a hideous face.

Seeing the monster's corpse with his own eyes shook the soldier even more.

He remembered the comrades who had died for no apparent reason over the past few days. Still shaken by fear, he finally felt some gratitude toward the youth.

The soldier steadied himself and asked, "Your name is Gu Qingshan?"

"Yes."

"Brave Cavalry Camp?"

"Yes."

"Where's your identification tag?"

Gu Qingshan took out his identification tag, looked it over himself, then tossed it to the soldier for inspection.

The tag was heavier than he had expected.

With modern artifact-forging techniques, an identification tag could clearly be made as light as a sheet of paper. So why was the one on him as heavy as a scale weight?

The youth's confusion deepened.

The soldier took the tag and examined it closely. Sure enough, it read "Gu Qingshan of the Brave Cavalry Camp." Threads of vibrant Spiritual Power shimmered across its surface.

The tag was genuine.

The soldier let out a long breath. The tension left his face, replaced by exhaustion. "At last, a living person has arrived. Quick, we can't stay out here. Come into the military camp with me."

That made sense. Gu Qingshan nodded slightly. "All right."

The soldier handed the tag back and turned toward the camp.

Gu Qingshan took it and examined it closely once more.

Not only was it heavy, it was made entirely of bronze. A few characters had been crudely carved into the surface, clumsy and ugly—a completely outdated design.

An outdated design...

Gu Qingshan felt a flash of insight, and an indescribable fear swept over him.

He abruptly raised his head, fixing his gaze on the soldier ahead.

Ancient regulation leather cuirass.

The answer was so absurd that Gu Qingshan couldn't help shouting, "Brother, what year is it?"

The soldier turned around and looked at him strangely. "It's the six hundred and eighty-first year of Chengping."

Gu Qingshan froze.

Suddenly, a waterfall of data turned into streaks of blue light, racing wildly across Gu Qingshan's eyes like a raging tide.

Boom—

A cold mechanical voice abruptly rang out.

"Current time confirmed as the end of the Chengping era."

"Time flow stable. Confirmed escape from Time-Space Turbulence."

"Assessment: Successfully escaped the apocalypse!"

"Identity reset successful. Current identity: Human Race Vanguard Army, Brave Cavalry Camp soldier."

The system had finally activated, but Gu Qingshan felt no joy. He could hardly believe what he was seeing.

How could it be the end of the Chengping era? The game hadn't even begun yet!

This was a bygone era found only in the game's background and history. Humanity in the real world had yet to officially enter that terrifying Otherworld.

By the time players entered the game, it would already be a year later.

Had he returned to the time before the game began?

And what about the real world? Had he gone back in time there, too?

Gu Qingshan's heart clenched. He couldn't help looking around.

Ahead, the soldier had gone farther and had already crossed the entrance to the military camp.

A wisp of Spiritual Power from the Concealment Array occasionally flickered across the barracks door.

Beyond the camp, in the dim, desolate wilderness, a vague, enormous figure could just barely be seen, flashing into view amid the downpour before vanishing again.

Gu Qingshan slowly raised his arm, opened his mouth, and bit down hard.

A row of clear teeth marks appeared on his arm. Where he had bitten deepest, beads of blood slowly welled up.

It hurt!

This wasn't a dream!

Like a statue, Gu Qingshan stood motionless in the torrential rain, letting the icy water fall from the sky and soak him through.