“Everyone else is charging forward to get their share of the spoils.” Slyfox stared at Cloudhawk as though he were an idiot. “But you don’t seem interested at all. Do you have shit for brains?”
“The only thing I want right now is a good, long sleep.” Cloudhawk’s adrenaline rush had ended with the battle and a wave of exhaustion had just come crashing down on him. How could he possibly have any energy or interest in running forward to pick up some spoils? Besides, he really didn’t believe that these savage men would let a kid like him get anything nice!
Slyfox saw that Cloudhawk was indeed covered with wounds and so he just waved his hands in an extremely impatient manner. “Fine, fine. Hurry up and fuck off already. Go to Mantis’s workshop and get those wounds treated. I ain’t got any time to worry about your sorry ass.” Cloudhawk nodded and immediately departed from this noisy, boisterous scene of looting.
The rugged streets of Blackflag Outpost were quite silent. Mice and other animals rustled through the weeds, occasionally popping their heads out. They were drawn by the stench of blood in the air. Right now, this place truly did look like a lifeless, barren wasteland.
Cloudhawk was extremely tired in body, mind, and soul. The beast wave and sweeper battalion had been incredibly dangerous and he was once more reminded that staying alive in the wastelands was no easy feat. There was no such thing as a truly safe harbor in the wastelands, not even in the outposts. They walked a thin line between life and death and the outposts themselves were fragile things.
Cloudhawk was starting to want to leave… and what he saw today reinforced those budding thoughts. On one side, there was a hidden, unknown figure capable of controlling and creating sandstorms. On the other side, there was a Bloodsoaked Queen who wielded an inconceivable amount of power.
What feud existed between the two? Cloudhawk didn’t know, and he didn’t want to know. However, he knew that if two figures like them began fighting with Blackflag Outpost as their battlefield, this place would never be safe to inhabit. Today was just the beginning. Who knew what the future would bring?
But if he left the outpost, where would he go? The wastelands were so vast and endless as to engender a sense of despair and it was so cruel that it could devour anyone’s innocent dreams or ideals. Was there truly no such thing as a safe place to live in this vast world?
Just as Cloudhawk’s tired mind threw out these random thoughts, he was suddenly able sense those faint ripples once more. They seemed very similar to the ripples he sensed from the Queen. Cloudhawk frantically looked right and left, but was unable to see anyone at all. No one was here. Was this a hallucination caused by excessive blood loss?
Cloudhawk continued to carefully scrutinize the area. Finally, his gaze turned towards a small, unremarkable alleyway. Those strange ripples were coming from that direction. No way. That place was absolutely foul and filled with refuse and excrement. Who in the world would go there?
Cloudhawk wasn’t certain what these ripples were, but felt certain that it wasn’t just a hallucination. He decided to go over and take a look… but when he did, he was badly startled by what he saw in front of him.
There was a human silhouette within the alleyway. The person was seated on the ground, half-slumped against the wall. The person’s mask was turned directly towards Cloudhawk and the deep eyes hidden beneath the mask seemed to be staring death at him. It was the terrifying woman he had seen just a short while ago… the Bloodsoaked Queen!
Cloudhawk’s first instinct was to run. This freak of a woman was able to crush maneaters as easily as ants. To her, someone like Cloudhawk would be even less than an ant. But just as he took his first step to run, he suddenly halted.
The Queen’s arms were resting on the ground, seemingly powerless, and a thin trickle of blood was actually streaming out from the edges of that savage mask. She remained slumped against the wall, not moving or making even the slightest of sounds.
Drip. Drip. Drops of crimson blood landed on her clothes, staining them with a large, bloody patch.
Was the Queen dead? No way!
29 The Queen’s True Visage
Cloudhawk stared at her for another long moment before carefully creeping forward to take a closer look. The Bloodsoaked Queen simply lay there, seemingly completely lifeless. Blood continued to trickle out from underneath her mask and she looked no different from a corpse.
Just a few moments ago, she had invincibly swept through all opposition! How was it that she inexplicably perished just a few moments later? Cloudhawk stared at the Queen, his face filled with confusion. The savage mask was completely inscrutable and nothing but darkness could be seen underneath the mask’s eye-sockets. He couldn’t see her eyes at all, but still felt as though he were being stared at. He couldn’t help but shiver.
Cloudhawk’s gaze slowly turned downwards, only to notice that her chest was slowly rising and falling by just the tiniest amount. The Queen was still breathing. That meant she wasn’t dead yet! What had happened? Had she suffered a serious injury that caused her to pass out on the spot?
Cloudhawk felt certain that his guess was spot on. The Queen probably had already been injured; she forced herself to put on a strong front when she dealt with the sweeper leader and the reason she immediately left in such a hurry was because she knew that she was on the verge of passing out. And yet, before she managed to return to her own residence, she passed out in this alleyway.
All of this was simply inconceivable! The almighty, invincible commander of Blackflag Outpost, the Bloodsoaked Queen, was lying here in the alleyway, completely helpless. Even someone as weak as Cloudhawk could do anything he pleased to her. If others discovered her or if word of her presence here spread, it would probably cause an enormous commotion.
The spoils didn’t take too long to divvy up. Some people were already beginning to return to their homes in the outpost. The Bloodsoaked Queen was in a very dangerous position. There were assuredly many who were dissatisfied with her reign and wastelanders were vicious and sly; there was no way they would give up such a golden opportunity.
What was he to do? Should he simply ignore her and leave her to her fate? Cloudhawk’s gaze paused for a few moments on her gloves and her cross. The minute vibrations emanating from them caused his heart to tremble as well.
By now, it was all but confirmed that the Bloodsoaked Queen’s power came from those gloves and that cross. She was able to use that strange energy in her body to activate these unique items, giving birth to incredibly destructive forces.
Cloudhawk reached up, clutching his stone necklace in his hands. This stone of his was definitely an extraordinary item, but he hadn’t been able to find the proper way to use it. Cloudhawk couldn’t help but wonder… was there some sort of a connection between the Queen’s special equipment and his stone? If he could learn her abilities, would he gain access to supernatural abilities like hers? This prospect was incredibly enticing to him.
The stone really hadn’t done much the past month. He was in desperate need of someone sufficiently knowledgeable who could teach him about it.
No, no way. This is crazy dangerous. Her nickname is the Bloodsoaked Queen! That name alone proves that she’s not exactly a nice person. Even Slyfox was extremely wary of her! Given how powerful this woman was, it was entirely possible that she would recover within minutes. If Cloudhawk decided to be a busybody… he could almost imagine what would happen.
Perhaps it was best to leave. There was nothing more important than staying alive. She’s neither family nor friend. None of my damn business if she lives or dies. Even if he did save the Queen, she wouldn’t necessarily show him any gratitude… and even if she were grateful, she wouldn’t necessarily teach him her techniques. And even if she DID teach him her techniques, they might not be useful in activating that special stone!
The risks here were enormous. The more Cloudhawk thought about it, the more he felt it wasn’t worth it. It was better to not get involved and to leave immediate
ly.
He made up his mind and was going to leave immediately. If the Queen suddenly woke up and saw him lurking around, she would probably erase him without a second thought. To her, it would probably be as easy as crushing a bug! But just as Cloudhawk turned to leave, he suddenly froze in his tracks.
Wait a second! Cloudhawk suddenly thought back to those strange words the mysterious man had said. The Bloodsoaked Queen seemed to have a unique background. She wasn’t from Blackflag Outpost; in fact, she wasn’t even a wastelander. Then… where did she come from? Was there actually something beyond the wastelands? If there was… what type of a world was it? Had that dreamy world of the Ancient Times truly been completely destroyed?
Ever since his earliest days, Cloudhawk’s greatest dream was to leave the wastelands. Blackflag Outpost was nothing more than a temporary residence for him. Cloudhawk felt certain that he would leave this place, sooner or later, and embark on a journey through the wastes. If he continued to just remain here as a mercenary, he would be trapped in the wastelands for his entire life. In the end, he would die a meaningless death and turn into yet another wastelands corpse, as he had in that nightmare.
Saving this woman carried inherent risks; there was no question about that. But… there was no way he would have a second opportunity at this. Was he really going to give up his one and only chance?
Cloudhawk felt as though his head were exploding. Countless conflicting thoughts clashed in his head, smashing together like meteors and creating countless sparks. In the end, one desire blazed hotter and hotter, becoming so powerful that it completely overwhelmed all of his other worries.
“Fuck it. If I die, I die!” Cloudhawk grabbed a piece of tattered cloth, covered the Queen with it and lifted her onto his back.
This woman was terrifyingly powerful, capable of stopping blades with her bare hands. But right now, she was so weak that she didn’t seem to have so much as a single bone in her body. She was like a soft, elastic ball of cotton… and this was doubly true for the ample, perky bosom that pressed against him. Although Cloudhawk’s young age meant that he didn’t really understand much about the affairs between men and women, he knew that no wastelander woman could ever be like her.
Thunk. Cloudhawk used his leg to kick open the battered door to his wooden residence and piggy-back carried the Queen in, his forehead matted with sweat. He first put her down on his bed before running outside to scan the area. After verifying that no one had trailed him back or had noticed him, he carefully crept back inside and shut the door.
Cloudhawk sat there in front of his bed, his mind a complete blank. He was still uneasy and didn’t know if he had made the correct decision or not. The Bloodsoaked Queen was someone who cut down men like grass. Last year, she had killed the previous commander as soon as she arrived at Blackflag Outpost, before using absolutely bloody methods to wipe out any who dared oppose her rule. She then established order with an iron fist upon the outpost and no one who dared violate her rules would be spared!
She was like a chunk of cold iron, a cold-blooded tyrant. However, Cloudhawk hadn’t experienced any of that himself and so he didn’t truly “know” what she was like. But if Slyfox knew what he had just done, the fat man would’ve been so furious that he unquestionably would’ve executed Cloudhawk with a single shot.
Did the kid really think that the Queen would be grateful to him just because he saved her? When she woke up… in order to preserve her image of invincibility and her rule, the very first thing she would do would be to get rid of this busybody kid. Honestly, he was probably the only person in the entire outpost who would make such a stupid decision.
And it really was a stupid decision! Even Cloudhawk knew it, but he felt he had no choice. The allure of the outside world was simply too great for him. He desperately wanted to learn more about what lay outside the wastes.
Can I become as strong as the Queen? Will my dreams end up as just that, empty dreams never to be realized? Is there really a “heaven” that exists outside the wastelands, or is there nothing more than an even greater wasteland?
Cloudhawk was extremely nervous and restless. Not only was he worried about the Queen’s reaction, he was also worried about his dream vanishing like a popped bubble. He wasn’t satisfied with living an ant’s life, with simply surviving one day at a time. He wanted to live, to truly live. He wouldn’t give up any chance of that!
Deep breaths, buddy. Deep breaths. Cloudhawk forced himself to calm down, wiped his face, and stood up.
What sort of face lay under that savage mask? An equally savage, hideous, and violent one? Did she look like a monster, with glaring fangs and a savage mien? But in this era and in this place, not even the most hideous, monstrous, and disgusting of faces would cause Cloudhawk to feel even a hint of surprise.
Cloudhawk took a deep breath, summoning all his courage and tamping down the fear in his heart. He reached out to lift the mask up, wanting to satisfy his curiosity… and was thunderstruck by what he saw.
Cloudhawk’s eyes bulged and his entire face froze. He stared blankly at the face in front of him. Not even in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that a face like this was hidden behind that terrifying, savage mask.
Willowy eyebrows, almond-shaped eyes, cherry-red lips… this visage was the epitome of classical beauty. The woman had a high nose and a head of long and smooth night-black hair. She was tall and slender but had curves in all the right places. She truly had every single trait of Asian standards of beauty. When you factored in her absolutely alabaster-white skin… she truly was flawless and without blemish.
The demonic Bloodsoaked Queen, who the members of Blackflag Outpost venerated like a god, had the youthful face of a seventeen to eighteen-year-old girl. Her eyes were tightly shut, her long eyelashes were fluttering slightly, and she was wincing slightly as though she was in pain. Even the most hard-hearted of men would feel a desire to protect and cherish her.
This maiden was several years older than Cloudhawk, but Cloudhawk had never seen anyone as beautiful as her. She couldn’t even be spoken of in the same breath as the ugly, coarse humans of the wastelands. She truly was like an angel that had fallen from the heavens. No one would ever conflate the merciless, murderous Bloodsoaked Queen with this statuesque, jade-like beauty.
This world really was a crazy place! Cloudhawk grabbed a towel and used it to help clean her bloodstained face. He moved with the utmost of caution and care, as though he were cleaning a priceless work of art.
The Queen’s beautiful crimson lips trembled a few times and a wince of pain once more appeared on her surpassingly beautiful features. Cloudhawk hurriedly went to find some water and brought it to the Queen’s lips. The Queen gulped down water in large mouthfuls before the anguished look on her face slowly relaxed, but she still did not wake up.
Cloudhawk removed the gloves from her hands. As he did so, he sensed a strange type of power tremble through them. These gloves clearly were no ordinary gloves; otherwise, how could they possibly have allowed her to block that world-shattering knife-strike?
With the gloves gone, a bloody scar was now visible within the Queen’s right hand. Her fair, tender skin had been cut open. It seemed that using her hand to block that strike hadn’t been as simple as it had appeared. Cloudhawk ran over to Mantis’s workshop, grabbed some medicine, bandages, and tools, and then ran back and helped bind the Queen’s wounds in a simple manner.
But her wounds definitely weren’t limited to the external ones he could see. She had definitely suffered heavier injuries than he had imagined and she had been unconscious for much longer than he had expected. Thankfully, he had brought her back. Otherwise, she definitely would’ve been discovered in that alleyway by someone else. There was a limit to what Cloudhawk could do. Right now, her life was in her own hands.
As Cloudhawk sat down to relax, he couldn’t help but turn to look at the Queen’s chest. It was virtually impossible for wastelander women to have such a voluptuous figure
, simply because there wasn’t enough food for most of them. However, the young Cloudhawk wasn’t really interested in her chest, nor did he have any evil designs on her. What really attracted his attention was that white cross.
Now that was a truly powerful item. The Queen had used it to chop the sweeper leader in half! Cloudhawk reached out towards it, wanting to take a closer look at it… but right at that moment, the Queen’s tightly shut eyes suddenly opened.
Oh, shit.
Cloudhawk was caught completely off-guard. His hand was right over the Queen’s chest, and it was far too late for him to draw back.
Fast. Incomprehensibly fast! The Queen’s slender, jade-like right hand struck out with lightning speed, latching onto Cloudhawk’s wrist and trapping it with the power of a steel vise, and gave it a sharp tug.
Ow ow ow OW! Cloudhawk didn’t even have a chance to cry out before his head was sent smashing straight into the headboard. An icy aura instantly filled the entire room as though a blizzard had suddenly descended upon it as waves of undisguised, murderous rage seemed to crash down upon him!
30 The Children of the Gods
The Bloodsoaked Queen hadn’t completely lost all consciousness. Even though she was nearly insensate, she was still able to maintain a strand of conscious thought. She felt as though she’d fallen into an endless black hole of darkness, pain, and exhaustion. She was like someone who was drowning in a bottomless pool of water; no matter how she struggled, there was nothing she could do. This sense of despair dragged her further and further downwards, and that stifling sensation caused her will to suffer.
To fall into that endless slumber would be a form of escape. Why did she have to live while weighed down by so many burdens? But as soon as this thought appeared, a thought that was a thousand times more powerful instantly arose and overwhelmed it:
The Wastelander Page 23
