These death soldiers were special troops Qin Zihui had personally taken charge of and trained over the past two days. Unlike other elite soldiers, they had no parents, friends, beloved wives, or any other attachments. They had nothing-no parents, friends, or wives, not even a relative or companion. In this world, they had only themselves.
A truly lonely person feared nothing. Even death, which made others pale at its mere mention, was as ordinary and dull to them as breathing.
When a person had nothing left to lose, he became one of the most terrifying, heartless people in the world. These death soldiers were no different.
Even an incomparably powerful Elementalist was, in their eyes, merely an ordinary person capable of controlling natural elemental power, little different from a conjurer or magician with his tricks. There was nothing to fear.
What they feared was a dull, meaningless death. That was why people like them would never take their own lives; under any circumstances, it was an utterly foolish act. They hoped their deaths would mean more than their lives. They were passionately drawn to deaths that had value, deaths that were special and unforgettable. Dying at an Elementalist's hands was perhaps the best answer to that longing.
Zeng Mu could not see into their minds. All he saw was the fervor burning in their eyes, a gaze bordering on madness, its hunger tinged with cold melancholy. They were like blades of grass barely surviving in a dark corner that had finally glimpsed the light, surging forward like a tide in a wild frenzy stripped of reason.
Their movements were swift and powerful. Yetos had to admit that these men were far beyond ordinary death soldiers. They were truly exceptional. A bitter smile touched his lips. He felt honored to give