Chapter 44: The Choice

But before long, Qin Sang’s face filled with disappointment, and he let out a soft sigh.

He raced down the mountain, searching the chaotic battlefield with frantic impatience for a long time. Aside from finding two strips of cloth hanging from a tree branch, he saw not a single soul—not even a corpse.

The battlefield seemed to span only a few hundred yards in radius. Refusing to give up, Qin Sang expanded his search area, but he found no trace of anything.

Clutching the two pieces of high-quality azure cloth, Qin Sang stared down at the mangled valley beneath his feet, his expression deep in thought.

The peaks on both sides of the valley had collapsed, filling the gorge with earth and stone. The small river that once flowed through the valley had been blocked, forming a small lake upstream. Could someone be buried beneath the debris?

With so much rubble, it was impossible for him to clear it alone. After a moment of hesitation, Qin Sang returned to the ancient road and ordered an entire battalion of soldiers to come and begin digging.

The valley was not on the ancient road, but no one dared to defy Qin Sang's command; they immediately set to work with feverish intensity.

Growing impatient, Qin Sang eventually stepped forward to help.

The valley was not large, but the accumulation of earth and stone was very deep. Qin Sang couldn't help but worry that even if someone were underneath, they would likely have been crushed into pulp. He hoped the items were not damaged.

As the layers of earth and stone were removed, night fell in the blink of an eye. Enduring his anxiety, Qin Sang ordered the cooking of meals and continued the excavation through the night.

Some soldiers couldn't help but grumble, but he acted as if he hadn't heard them. Torches filled the valley, and they worked until late into the night until the bottom of the valley was finally reached.

The final layer of earth and stone had been soaked into mud by the water. As baskets of sludge were carried out, Qin Sang himself was nearly covered in filth.

Just then, a sudden cry of alarm erupted from the front. Qin Sang’s heart leaped. He looked up to hear a soldier shouting, "General Qin, there's someone down here!"

Overjoyed, Qin Sang barked out a command, "Don't move him!"

Leaping forward in several bounds, Qin Sang discovered that an underground river had been unearthed.

The terrain here was peculiar; the base of a massive blue stone on the riverbank had been hollowed out by the current, leaving the top protruding to form a natural barrier. Several large fallen rocks happened to block the gap, allowing the underground river to continue flowing with a gentle murmur.

And there, lying face down in the water, was a person, motionless.

The individual was dressed in deep azure clothing. Qin Sang took out the cloth from his bosom to compare; it was indeed torn from this person's clothes.

Qin Sang crouched down and reached in, about to check if the man was alive or dead, when he heard someone call out from behind, "Another one found!"

Then, he heard Zhang Wenkui shout, "General Qin, this one is dead. His head was crushed by a rock."

Another mutual destruction?

Qin Sang thought to himself that the world of cultivators was truly bizarre—whenever one died, they seemed to die in pairs. However, for him, this was an absolute stroke of good luck.

Qin Sang immediately ordered all the soldiers to leave the valley.

The torchlight shone brightly, illuminating the mountains. In the distance, wolves howled and owls screeched, sounds that were bone-chilling, but Qin Sang’s heart was burning with excitement.

He reached out forcefully, grabbing the arm of the person in the stream. Just as he was about to pull him out, his expression shifted slightly.

Half of this person's body was submerged in the water, and his entire body was ice-cold, no different from a corpse. But the moment Qin Sang gripped his arm, he sensed a pulse—it had actually throbbed once!

He was alive!

For a moment, Qin Sang did not know whether to feel joy or worry. His expression flickered between light and dark. After a moment of hesitation, he decided to gently pull the man from the water first.

Having been submerged for a long time, the young man's face was pale, and there was no color at all on his thin lips.

He looked older than the boy surnamed Song, appearing to be around twenty years old. His features were rugged and well-defined, but his aura was extremely weak; his pulse and breathing were so faint they were barely perceptible. His injuries were likely severe, as he did not wake even when Qin Sang dragged him out.

But cultivators could not be judged by the same standards as mortals; this person might not be beyond saving.

Qin Sang gazed at the youth, his heart torn. He leaned toward saving him.

Seeking immortality, seeking the Dao—hadn't he struggled for so long, enduring the tedium of dealing with mortals, just for this? Now that he had finally encountered a cultivator, the shortcut was right in front of him. Why waste any more time in the mundane world?

While killing him could allow the King of Hell to pull out his soul for questioning, a soul's existence was so brief that it would be impossible to learn the full scope of the cultivator's world.

Yet, Qin Sang couldn't help but remember the "food" that had been sucked dry by that black-clad demon. What if this person was also a demon? And if he were a righteous cultivator, but discovered he had practiced demonic arts, would he turn on Qin Sang to eliminate the evil?

Qin Sang was truly caught in a dilemma, unable to decide.

Unexpectedly, while Qin Sang was secretly agonizing, the youth suddenly opened his eyes without warning. From his narrow eyes, two gazes shot out like unsheathed swords, piercingly sharp, aimed straight at Qin Sang's eyes.

Qin Sang had not expected the youth to wake on his own. Caught off guard, he felt as if the youth were about to see right through his inner thoughts. Terrified, he hurriedly suppressed his intentions and made an instant decision, bowing his head and saying repeatedly, "Qin Sang pays respects to the Immortal Master! I wish the Immortal Master safety and well-being!"

At the same time, his heart tightened in silent vigilance.

The youth stared at Qin Sang for a while, the sharpness in his gaze softening slightly. His eyes shifted, scanning the surroundings, before he spoke in a raspy voice, "Are you a general of the mortal realm?"

The youth's injuries were indeed not light; his voice was extremely faint, but Qin Sang heard him clearly. He nodded and replied, "Qin Sang is a Deputy Commander of the Xuanwei Battalion."

"Xuanwei Battalion?"

A flash of confusion crossed the youth's eyes, but he did not press the matter. Instead, he asked, "If you are a general, why have you brought troops into Mount Guling?"

Qin Sang hesitated. The surprise attack on Raven's Mouth was a military secret; if leaked, it would inevitably affect the war and cost him great military merit.

But the moment he thought that the youth was a cultivator, he realized that as long as he could please him, why bother with the pilgrimage to the Holy Mountain? Whether King Dongyang won or lost was none of his business. He immediately laid out the whole truth.

"I see..."

The youth nodded, struggling to turn his neck. "There should be another person nearby..."

Qin Sang hurriedly stood up and carried the other corpse over. This corpse was in a wretched state; everything above the neck had been crushed by a massive rock.

"Please accept my condolences, Immortal Master. Your companion has unfortunately perished."

The youth let out a cold laugh. "How could I, Han, be a companion to a demon? That person was a demonic cultivator, full of evil. I happened to encounter him and slew him. However, his magical tool was strange; I almost fell victim to him..."

As he spoke, the youth coughed violently several times, barely managing to lift his hand to cover his chest, his face contorted in pain. "Look on his person... see if there is a pouch about the size of a palm..."

Was this youth surnamed Han truly a righteous person who hated evil?

Suppressing the unease in his heart, Qin Sang dared not show even a hint of suspicion.

He obediently felt around the waist of the corpse and indeed found a small pouch. When he took it out, it was similar in size to the seven-colored brocade pouch, but the fabric was grey and dull, completely unremarkable.

(End of Chapter)