Chapter Fifty-Nine: Mist of the Dark Night

Under Shui Yaoxian’s worried gaze, Lei Dong slowly voiced the squad’s assessment:

First, their manpower was gravely insufficient; the special operations team consisted of only seven members, whereas the enemy was a well-trained assault force, equally adept at jungle warfare, but with over a hundred soldiers. Such a disparity in numbers was enough to fundamentally alter the outcome!

“Second, and perhaps most critical,” Lei Dong lowered his voice, subtly nodding toward the slowly moving group, “there are over two hundred hostages here who need our protection, and we must do everything possible to keep them safe…”

Shui Yaoxian let out a soft sigh and nodded heavily.

“So, here is our plan…” Lei Dong took a deep breath.

First, they would forgo the opportunity to intercept the enemy during their parachute descent. Instead, they would allow the enemy to enter the island and split their forces before launching the next phase of their operation. This was to avoid a situation where the enemy massed their troops and overwhelmed the squad before the battle had truly begun.

Second, they would force—or rather lure—the enemy to divide their forces again, further diluting their strength. They would use their own team’s agility and prowess to launch surprise attacks and inflict maximum casualties with minimal risk.

To achieve this, Lei Dong divided the remaining six members into three combat groups, each occupying advantageous terrain, setting traps, and laying ambushes, all with the aim of inflicting the greatest damage at the lowest cost.

They selected three battle zones: the center of the island where the plane had crash-landed as Zone One; the southeastern dock as Zone Two; and the area near the statue of the Holy Radiant Emperor in the east as Zone Three. Two groups would be deployed along the north and south approaches to Zone One, tasked with holding back the enemy from seizing the plane and controlling the hostages—surely the point of greatest enemy focus and concentration. The third group would be stationed at the dock, tasked with harrying and drawing away the enemy forces seeking to control it.

If the tide of battle favored them, all the better. If not, the three groups would lure the enemy toward Zone Three, buying as much time as possible for the hostages to embark and escape by sea.

Third, and perhaps most uncertain, Lei Dong himself would lead the hostages away from the plane, through the jungle to the dock, taking advantage of the squad’s diversions to organize their evacuation and ensure their safety.

The plan was not complex—a simple maneuver of exploiting timing and distraction—but as Lei Dong finished explaining, he sighed softly.

From the very start, Lei Dong knew his comrades were prepared to burn their bridges—ready to die with the enemy rather than surrender. In the worst case, it would end in mutual destruction. Yet, the hope for survival was reserved for those two hundred and twenty-seven hostages, and for himself.

Huang Xiweng understood. Lang Tianyu understood. Bei Shiliang, Wuyun, Luo Haoran, and Song Jingang understood. And Lei Dong understood even more.

Yet, Lei Dong also knew that if it came to that, he could not predict what he might do. One thing was certain: if any harm befell his comrades, he would ensure that the so-called most powerful nation paid a price it could not bear—even if it meant his own destruction.

Shui Yaoxian looked bewildered. The plan seemed flawless—so why the sigh, why the clenched teeth and fierce resolve?

But in a flash, she understood. She sighed and said softly, “Isn’t this price too high?”

All her training had been about achieving safety and securing intelligence at the smallest possible cost. Her experiences had taught her how ruthless the world could be—full of betrayal and deception, often for the most trivial of gains. How many, when faced with a crisis, would choose to sacrifice themselves for strangers to whom they owed nothing?

“Price?” Lei Dong was silent for a moment, then replied calmly, “This isn’t about price. It’s about responsibility. Isn’t our purpose to let ordinary people live peaceful lives? Isn’t that our duty, our mission? Otherwise, what are we even here for?”

His voice was soft and even, but both speaker and listener were momentarily stunned by the weight of those words.

With a strange light in her eyes, Shui Yaoxian bit her lip gently, as if making a decision. “If I say I might be able to lower that cost, would you be willing to try?”

Lei Dong stopped in his tracks. A fleeting, relieved smile crossed his face, but his gaze was suddenly dazzling. “What do you have in mind?”

“You’re willing?” Shui Yaoxian was clearly surprised at how readily Lei Dong agreed.

“Why wouldn’t I be? If there’s a way to win with less loss, why not try? Do you think I’m a fool?” Lei Dong grinned wryly, ordering his exhausted team to rest against nearby trees before asking, “So, what is it?”

Seeing the brightness in his eyes, Shui Yaoxian suddenly understood, a hint of anxiety flickering across her face. “You know?”

Lei Dong nodded as if it were obvious. “I know.” He glanced at her expression and was momentarily embarrassed. “You know too?”

Neither of them spelled out exactly what they “knew,” but it was clear they understood each other. Two exceptionally sharp minds met, and both smiled with mutual recognition. Shui Yaoxian’s shamanic abilities had always been shrouded in secrecy—at most a whispered legend. But Lei Dong showed not the slightest surprise. And he clearly hoped to make use of her unique talents to break their current deadlock. Still, asking a girl barely recovered from grave injury to exert herself again left him uneasy. Yet Shui Yaoxian, so astute, saw through him at once.

She felt no resentment at being asked to use her powers; rather, she felt a weight lifted and even a faint happiness rising from her heart.

Shui Yaoxian’s smile was radiant. The pallor of her face vanished, as though a blossom had burst through ice. Without another word, she raised her hands, her jade-like fingers dancing lightly before her chest, sketching out one arcane gesture after another as she began to chant ancient incantations.

“So this is shamanic magic?” Lei Dong stared unblinking at her hands, curiosity burning within him. As a cultivator with a unique constitution, he had spent years honing only the most basic disciplines, strengthening his cultivation, but the “Heavenly Spirit Lock” prevented him from even attempting the simplest spells—let alone the mysterious arts now unfolding before his eyes.

Shui Yaoxian’s movements grew ever swifter, her chant more urgent. Lei Dong suddenly sensed something extraordinary occurring. The spiritual energy scattered through the world seemed to fall in line, drawn into a specific pattern, converging on her hands. Then, guided by her gestures, it began to split and diffuse.

A rosy flush colored Shui Yaoxian’s cheeks. Her incantation rose and fell, the obscure words shifting and changing. At last, the gathered spiritual energy seemed to coalesce into a crystalline, icy jade-colored crow, exuding a chill that pierced the air.

“Go!” With a crisp command, the cold crow, formed from pure spiritual energy, shot from her hands and darted away along some mysterious trajectory, weaving through the sky.

Where its wings passed, the very fabric of the world seemed to shift, the spiritual energy in its wake subtly transformed.

Moments later, a second cold crow appeared in her hands, then a third, a fourth… Under Lei Dong’s increasingly astonished gaze, one after another, the crows took flight and vanished into the forest.

But as each crow appeared, Shui Yaoxian’s face grew paler, her arms seemed to bear a tremendous weight, her chanting faltered, her strength clearly waning.

“Divide!” As the ninth cold crow ascended, Shui Yaoxian cried out with all her remaining strength. Suddenly, the world was transformed. Thick white mist rose from the ground, enveloping the forest in seconds. Then, the swirling fog deepened into an inky blackness—as dense as night—engulfing the woods that moments before had been outlined by faint starlight, plunging all into utter darkness.

The blackness seemed to carry a sinister, tangible weight; even Lei Dong, with his keen vision, could not see a meter ahead.

Yet this sudden transformation occurred without a sound; even the insects and birds in the forest seemed to have been swallowed by some strange void, leaving an eerie, chilling silence.

Lei Dong was startled, but not panicked. He cast out his spiritual sense like a great net, and soon beheld a scene that defied belief.

In the depths of the jungle, over two hundred passengers lay limp on the ground. Their breathing and heartbeats were steady, but it was as if their consciousness had been swept away—all had fallen into a deep sleep. In the next instant, Lei Dong realized his own spiritual sense, which usually covered ten kilometers, had shrunk by more than seventy percent; now it extended less than three kilometers…

“What spell is this?” Lei Dong was both shocked and awed. As his mind reeled, he noticed Shui Yaoxian, just a few steps away, had lost all strength and was collapsing backward.

Alarmed, Lei Dong rushed forward and caught her before she hit the ground.

“How are you?” Seeing her deathly pale face and hearing her labored breathing, he pressed three fingers to her wrist and was stunned: the cultivation that had surged thanks to the Life Creation Pill had been depleted, and her vital energy was dangerously low!

He knew this was a classic sign of overexertion. He could not imagine what shamanic magic she had just cast to exhaust herself so thoroughly, and for a moment, he was filled with guilt.