Yang Yong hovered in midair, the Ten-Thousand-Forged Primordial Furnace spinning rapidly. For a moment, he actually held off on delivering a killing blow.
He rarely hesitated like this.
The stronghold below consisted of one ramshackle shed after another.
From a distance, it looked like a patch of dingy, festering sores clinging to the mountain hollow, giving off a faint bloody stench.
A sign hung crookedly at the entrance. Most of its paint had peeled off, leaving only the words "livestock farming" barely legible.
Farther inside stood rows upon rows of concrete pens. The railings were rusted black, and dried dark red filled every crack in the ground.
Yang Yong understood at once.
This was a goddamn pig farm.
"A pig farm... those Holy Blessing bastards turned it into a stronghold?"
"What kind of gu spawn could this place raise?"
"Humans or pigs?"
He really was a little curious.
The Ten-Thousand-Forged Primordial Furnace shot forward, its body brushing the translucent barrier. Like tearing through a sheet of soggy paper, it passed through with a pop.
The instant the barrier shattered, a brilliant flash cleaved straight down at him.
"Oh, shit, a fucking ambush too?"
The Ten-Thousand-Forged Primordial Furnace abruptly shrank and spun sideways, dodging along the edge of the attack.
Like a red-hot iron bead, it spun through half a circle in the air and came to a steady hover.
Yang Yong looked down.
The thing that had just swung at him was a rake.
Not Marshal Tianpeng's nine-foot, nine-toothed weapon, but the kind rural villagers had used to rake pig manure before the apocalypse.
It had seven long, rusty iron teeth, and its handle had been worn glossy and greasy black.
At that moment, it was gripped in the hand of an enormous creature.
Yang Yong's gaze traveled up along