Chapter 64: A Tragic Death

“Kill him!” Seeing the entrance to the canyon sealed once again, realizing his plan had failed, the man in black, unable to vent his anger elsewhere, shouted at his men, directing all his fury at Bruce.
In an instant, Bruce faced even more fierce attacks. In just a short while, his body was covered in blood. Without choosing to dodge or flee, he fought back with a faintly sad smile, determined to take down as many enemies as possible. Thus began a brutal battle like that of a beast.
Every wound Bruce sustained meant he had taken another life from the men in black. Every drop of blood spilled meant more blood from his enemies.
A muffled sound came as an arm flew into the air, spilling a trail of bright red blood! There was no scream—because that arm belonged to Bruce himself. To kill yet another enemy, he sacrificed his left hand in exchange for another life.
With a thud, losing his left hand caused Bruce to stagger. Seizing this slight opportunity, the enemy struck again, adding another wound to his body.
Fighting with one hand, ignoring the blood streaming from his wounds, he still wore a carefree smile. Wielding his sword, he slaughtered enemies everywhere. Even in such a short time, he claimed two more lives.
With each additional enemy killed, Bruce’s smile grew wider, becoming increasingly eerie.
“Ah…” He couldn’t help but scream as the man in black at the head severed his right leg with a sword strike. This time, Bruce couldn’t bear the pain; his body trembled.
Losing one leg disrupted his balance instantly, causing him to sway. His movements became clumsy, and he was powerless against the relentless attacks of the men in black.
“Thud…” His right hand was cut off, seemingly on purpose. At this moment, the men in black didn’t intend to kill Bruce right away but instead decided to torture him.
With only one leg left and both hands and one leg lost, Bruce was completely unable to fight. His severed hand flew through the air before falling to the ground, still tightly gripping his sword, which made a clear sound upon impact.
Eyes wide, he glared at his opponent with defiance and resentment. Though his fate was already sealed, mentally, he still retained a fighting spirit and gaze.

“Kill him!” After waiting for a long time, Bruce turned and slowly walked away, letting out a sigh. The leader of the men in black dropped those words and left immediately.
Though they were enemies and he hated them deeply, he was still moved by this fighting spirit and unwavering will. Perhaps if they weren’t enemies, he believed he would surely become close friends with this man.
It was precisely this emotional stir that made him abandon his original plan—instead of continuing to torture Bruce mercilessly, he chose to stop.
The canyon was now dead silent, an eerie stillness that stood in stark contrast to what had happened earlier. All the men in black stared blankly at Bruce, who continued to stand there, struggling to hold on. Their expressions changed—such determination had touched their hearts.
After a moment of silence, one of the men in black slowly approached Bruce, gazing intently at this man who was still fighting with his eyes. He slowly drew his weapon, blinked, took a deep breath, and swung his sword.
Thud… A muffled sound came from afar. The man in black paused for a moment before continuing on, taking another deep breath. He couldn’t see what happened behind him, but he could imagine it.
As he pulled his weapon out of Bruce’s chest, the man who attacked him’s eyes flickered with panic. His wide-open eyes were terrifying—even though they had lost their luster and turned gray, they still radiated murderous intent.
He staggered back a few steps. No one could have expected that such a cold-blooded, battle-hardened man would be defeated by just a glance.
A moment later, the man in black quickly retreated. The canyon remained eerily quiet, left only with Bruce’s body still standing there, his eyes lifeless yet wide open, as if declaring his fighting spirit. A cold wind blew through the canyon, carrying a howling sound. His hair fluttered in the wind, creating a desolate scene.
Blood pooled into a small stream, flowing around Bruce’s body. The canyon had become a true hell on earth.
…
Running frantically, Rod, Randy, and the soldier from the Dark Legion caught up with the main force and rushed away quickly. Before ensuring safety, the only thing to do was to stay as far away from this area as possible—ideally returning straight to the capital. Only there would they be safe.

Amidst the frantic pursuit, everyone even forgot their exhaustion; all that remained was a faint sense of gloom and sorrow—the oppressive mood that follows a great battle. It wasn’t until late in the evening that they finally arrived at a town just under a hundred miles from the capital. This town seemed even grander and more prosperous than Rod’s Fire City. If Rod had been in the mood, he would have silently marveled at how truly this was the heart of the empire. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in such a mood at the time. After finding a small inn to settle in, the disheveled group washed up casually and gathered in the inn’s hall. They had booked the entire inn for the day, so there was no one else there but them. The inn owner didn’t care about their appearance when they arrived; after all, he had seen many mercenaries in similar disarray fleeing here before. He knew very well what lay dozens of miles away from this town—places where people had suffered greatly before escaping, some in even worse condition than them! So he didn’t wonder where they came from. Moreover, seeing the heavy pack of gold coins they handed him, any potential problems vanished. After all, those coins were nearly equivalent to half of his monthly income. He secretly rejoiced at his good fortune and grinned broadly. In stark contrast to the inn owner, the people sitting in the hall had solemn expressions, and the atmosphere was extremely oppressive. They looked at each other but none spoke a word. Looking at the remaining less than thirty members of the Dark Legion, most of whom were injured, they had lost hundreds of comrades this time. As for the Swift Wind Mercenaries, their losses were no better—originally only twenty strong, they now had a mere thirteen left, with seven having died in that ambush. Seven! Everyone understood what that meant for a small mercenary group—it was almost as if they had lost half of their strength. Especially the sacrifice of Captain Bruce was a huge loss! In the mercenaries’ group, Bruce and Randy were the souls; now half of those souls had been taken away—just imagine!

Look upstairs, at that room with the tightly closed door. At this moment, Rod felt a hint of resentment—it was because of them, those two, that they had suffered such losses! Yet throughout it all, the two never showed their faces or said a word. His anger could be imagined; without any prior admiration, all that remained was disgust and hatred.

Amidst the gloomy atmosphere, after tallying the losses, everyone’s spirits sank to rock bottom.

“The Empire will compensate your mercenary team for the losses—five times your usual fee—and those who sacrificed will receive generous compensation! We are very grateful to you for this!”

Taking a deep breath, the officer from the Dark Legion spoke sincerely to the members of the Gale Mercenary Team, without his earlier arrogance or rudeness. His words carried a hint of apology and guilt.

Indeed, he knew better than anyone what would have happened if not for them. The Gale Mercenary Team, once considered weak, had played an unimaginable role.

“Damn it, can money solve everything? We don’t need it!”

Rod slammed the table and shouted angrily, his eyes red. Taking another deep breath, he continued, “Do you know how close comrades we lost? Do you understand what our losses mean? You don’t! Because your Dark Legion has many members—dead ones can be replaced—but us? We have nothing left! Do you know what money is? Can money bring back their lives? Can it bring back Captain Bruce’s life?”

His words left the officer speechless, and the members of the Gale Mercenary Team fell silent as well.

“Rod, shut up!” Lan Di snapped at him in a slightly hoarse voice. Looking at the soldiers of the Dark Legion across from them, he said, “We’re well aware of the mission of mercenary teams. Heh, we’ll see this task through to the end. We’ll set off tomorrow immediately. If we move at full speed, we should reach the Empire by evening—long nights bring many dreams!”

With a sigh, it seemed as though Lan Di had aged significantly in an instant.

Silenced, though unwilling and deeply frustrated, Rod said nothing more. The pressure in his heart made breathing difficult, let alone speaking.

After some discussion, the group returned to their rooms in a somber mood, preparing for the next day’s journey. Nighttime patrols were especially intensive, out of fear that those men in black might attack again. Two-thirds of the members were assigned to guard duty just in case.

“Rod, come with me!”

Turning to leave with the crowd, a voice behind stopped Rod in his tracks. Looking at Landy, at his gaze, Rod lowered his head and slowly followed him.