Humanity's Calamity

The man whose spear Zhang Tie had snatched from his hand in an instant felt his palms burning with pain. Yet the icy spearhead pressed against his Adam's apple left him too scared to move a muscle. Zhang Tie held one end of the spear with just two fingers, as if pinching a walnut, but in his hand, the spear stood as steady as Mount Tai.

One look at this, and even an idiot would know they had run into an expert.

The few men beside him who still held weapons were so frightened that they retreated several steps. Even if they were nothing more than a rabble, the past few years of war had made them keenly aware of just how vast the gap was between an expert and small fry like themselves.

"Ah, I'll talk, I'll talk... We're all refugees from Black Flame City. We used to live here, and this... Black Flame City is... is just like this before your eyes!"

The man in his forties stammered, not daring to move at all. As he spoke, his eyes kept darting nervously downward at the spear pressed to his throat. He truly did not know how to answer Zhang Tie's final question—what was the current situation in Black Flame City? Zhang Tie's question was too broad. Wasn't Black Flame City simply the sight before them?

Zhang Tie frowned slightly. "What year, month, and day is it now according to the Black Iron Calendar?"

The man blinked, then answered quickly, "It's March 3rd, Black Iron Calendar Year 894!"

"Ah, no, today should already be March 4th!" someone beside him hurriedly added.

"Ah, right, right, right, today is March 4th. March 4th. It's been so long since I looked at a calendar that I can barely remember!" the man hastily