Amid the icy wasteland, a hunter Puji lay still, its body buried beneath thick snow.
The extreme cold had frozen even the tough mycelium within, and fine ice crystals covered its cap.
A heavy, fur-lined boot came down mercilessly, crushing the snow to expose the stiffened corpse beneath.
The owner bent low, breath misting white in the wind.
He wore a dark coat emblazoned with the Empire’s reversed-wing twin-bat crest. From beneath his hat brim, his eyes studied the strange body.
“How odd,” he muttered, his voice muffled in the blizzard. “Never seen this kind of monster before.”
“Who cares what the hell it is!” his companion snapped, bundled in equally heavy garb, irritation clear in his tone. “This damn place is freezing me to death! Why not just move on?”
“Didn’t they issue you a temperature-control pendant?” the first man replied coolly, faint contempt in his voice.
“You think it runs itself without draining mana?!” the other grumbled louder. “Keeping a steady output all the time—don’t you get exhausted? It’s just a frozen monster corpse, not worth wasting time over!”
The observer clearly despised his weakness, but he had no reason to linger.He pressed harder with his boot—crack! The Puji’s body shattered into fragments.
The two continued forward, their destination—the demonkin tribe.
…
“An envoy from the Empire?”
Shou, assisted by tribesmen in tallying their meager supplies, frowned at Xinghuo’s report.
The Empire sending people to contact them?
In all his life, he’d never seen such a thing. It was far from normal.
But… he still had to meet them.
Especially since he truly intended to lead a migration south—dealing with the Empire was inevitable.
He signaled Xinghuo to bring the envoys into the main tent.
“Tch… even inside the tents, it’s freezing,” one of them complained immediately upon entering.
The pale skin exposed from his collar made his vampire identity obvious.
But Shou’s gaze fixed instead on the other man. A strange familiarity stirred in his blood.
That man made no attempt to hide it. Rolling up his sleeve, he revealed the magical markings on his arm.
“Demonkin!” Shou’s pupils contracted.
But unlike the tribe’s deep blue patterns, this man’s were a blazing red—like molten lava!
The lines seemed to flow with heat itself.
“In the name of the Red Moon and Imperial law!” The vampire lifted his chin arrogantly, voice dripping with authority. “I am Hao Henderson, Viscount of the Hidden Empire, servant of His Majesty Mortis Dracon—the Emperor, Protector of Demonkind, Master of the Continent! At his command, I serve as Northern Envoy. This is Grey. We come bearing His Majesty’s grace. Where is your chieftain?”
His eyes drifted over Shou’s empty sleeve before settling on Xinghuo, baffled as to why they were brought before a cripple.
“Shou, current chieftain.” Shou’s voice was calm and steady.
The single-syllable name made Grey pause for a heartbeat.
“You?” Viscount Hao’s disbelief was written across his face as he scanned Shou again. “From what I know, this tribe was led by an elder demonkin. And… where are the other diamond-rank fighters?”
Shou didn’t answer that. His gaze remained steady. “I am the chieftain now. Envoys, please state your purpose.”
Hao retreated two steps to stand beside Grey, muttering sharply, “Grey, this doesn’t match the serpent-people’s reports at all. Just two diamond-ranks? One’s even crippled. Looks worthless.”
Though his voice wasn’t loud, he hadn’t bothered to keep it private.
“You—!” Xinghuo’s eyes blazed, fists tightening. But the vampire ignored him utterly.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll handle this,” Grey said.
Hao shrugged, indifferent. The intelligence was wrong—this tribe had no value in his eyes.
Grey looked directly at Shou and spoke: “Chieftain Shou, the Empire has prepared fertile land for your people. A place warm and rich, far from the cold and dangers of the north. The Empire is willing to open its gates and take you in as protected subjects.”
Hao added with biting disdain, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve: “Viscount Henderson reminds you—this ‘grace’ was based on the serpents’ report of multiple diamond-rank fighters.”
He glanced around the tent’s emptiness, his meaning plain.
Grey nodded slightly. “The Empire sees your current state. Yet His Majesty’s mercy remains unchanged. Even if the land is less than promised, it will still be far better than this barren tundra.”
“And the price?” Shou asked bluntly.
Grey met his eyes, his words like iron: “Two conditions. First, all your warriors must immediately join the Empire’s war—fighting under command until victory. Second, your ‘Cradle’ must be surrendered. The Empire’s demonkin require only one ‘Cradle.’”
“Please leave.” Shou’s reply was sharp as steel. He didn’t even bother asking what war. The moment he heard the second condition, refusal was inevitable.
Hao snorted derisively through his nose. “Ingrate.”
Grey’s eyes lingered on Shou for a moment, unreadable.
As they left the tent, Grey paused at the flap. Without looking back, his deep voice carried clearly inside:
“Chieftain Shou, the Empire’s gates remain open for three months. If you change your mind, send word. Our kind will be one again.”
The two strode away into the rising storm.
The meeting ended in failure.
As their silhouettes vanished, Xinghuo turned to Shou. “Why refuse so firmly? Even with harsh terms, perhaps… negotiation was possible?”
“No matter their opening words, what they truly seek isn’t us. It’s the Cradle. The demon core.”
Xinghuo nodded grimly. The Cradle was their foundation—without it, the tribe would cease to exist.
But Shou’s thoughts ran further. With such a power imbalance, if the Empire coveted their core, what would stop them from sending his warriors to die, then seizing it?
It was his worst suspicion, but if it came true—entering the Empire would be easy, escaping it impossible.
“Then… what of our southern migration?” Xinghuo asked, uncertainty in his voice.
Shou sighed heavily. He was asking himself the same.
If the Empire had remained indifferent as before, all he’d need to worry about was settling among other tribes.
But now, with the Empire suddenly interested in them… migrating south might be dangerous.
What had changed? Why had they begun to care?
Sadly, the tribe’s isolation left Shou blind to answers.
“Speaking of which…” Shou forced aside his tangled thoughts, changing the subject. “Where’s Qiong? Haven’t seen him all day.”