348: Chapter 348 Mantis Clan Leader

"Head toward the back of the mountain and find a safe place to hide." Wei Ziqing turned around, facing the group of people he had just led out of the prison cells. "Once things here are resolved, government officials will arrive on the island. I'll tell them you're at the back of the mountain, and you can go find them then."

No one tried to persuade him otherwise.

That suit of plain white armor stood silently in the dim light, the outline of the scabbard at his waist cold and sharp. Just minutes ago, these people had been dragged from behind gun barrels and cell doors by him, witnessing firsthand as he took down guards with a single strike and saw bullets spark against his blade—they didn't feel they had the standing to advise such a being.

"I need to go back," Wei Ziqing said. "To settle this once and for all."

The words had just left his mouth.

From the low bushes toward the back of the mountain came a slight sound of chitin rubbing against rock and soil.

Wei Ziqing turned sideways, his bone sword unsheathing in an instant.

What stepped out from the shadows was a mantis.

But it was different from those in the arena. Those mantises were massive, with heavy carapaces and scythe-like forelimbs like battering rams. This one was much thinner and smaller, only the height of an ordinary human. Its carapace was a very pale greenish-gray, almost transparent, allowing a faint glimpse of the slow contraction of muscle bundles inside.

It looked fragile.

But the tip of Wei Ziqing's sword did not lower even half an inch.

"...If you let them go, it will be quite troublesome for me."

The mantis spoke. Its voice was not loud, even sounding peaceful, its mouthparts twitching almost imperceptibly.

"As the leader of the Mantis Tribe, I can't just stand by and watch you take away all our prey."

Wei Ziqing's pupils constricted slightly.

"...Leader?" His fingers tightened around the hilt. "Shouldn't you be over at the arena?"

The greenish-gray mantis did not answer; its compound eyes merely reflected Wei Ziqing's sword-wielding figure.

A phrase flashed through Wei Ziqing's mind instantly.

"...Luring the Tiger Away from the Mountain," he whispered. "I've also read human military strategy."

In the surrounding bushes, the shadows of the rocks, and the entrance to the abandoned mine—

Dozens of pairs of compound eyes lit up simultaneously.

The sound of chitinous friction surged from all directions, like a tide washing over reefs. Those lurking Mantis Evolved Forms slowly revealed themselves, forelimbs lowered, surrounding Wei Ziqing and the crowd behind him like an iron barrel.

A woman in the crowd let out a suppressed scream; someone's legs gave out and they slumped down, while more people crowded behind Wei Ziqing.

Wei Ziqing did not look back.

He held his sword across his chest, his plain white armor reflecting the cold light of the dense compound eyes surrounding them.

Right then.

A sudden gust of wind attacked from behind his head.

Wei Ziqing didn't turn around. The bone sword flipped within a thousandth of a second, the blade pressing diagonally against his back—

Clang—!

The vibration of metal striking a hard object exploded in the narrow space.

It was a person's fist. The back of the hand was covered by a half-section of steel pipe picked up from the ground, currently pressed against the bone sword's blade, unable to advance further.

Wei Ziqing turned his face slightly.

The sneak attacker was a man in his thirties with messy hair and a scarred cheek. He had walked silently with the group all the way; Wei Ziqing had almost no impression of him.

The man pulled back his hand, and the steel pipe dropped to the ground with a crisp rolling sound.

He didn't dare look Wei Ziqing in the eye.

He just ran toward the greenish-gray mantis as fast as he could, practically crawling and rolling.

"S-sorry..." His voice trembled, unclear if he was speaking to Wei Ziqing or the mantis. "I don't want to die... I really don't want to die... You guys are so strong, I just want to live..."

Another figure stumbled after him—it was the thin, small man who had kicked a guard's face earlier. He ran even faster, almost throwing himself at the feet of the Mantis Leader.

"I-I surrender too! We aren't with them! We were just tricked into coming here! Please spare my life!"

The greenish-gray mantis looked down, its compound eyes calmly watching the two humans prostrated at its feet.

"Interesting," it said.

It didn't look at them. It continued to watch Wei Ziqing.

"You see," its voice carried a tone of almost sentimental reflection, "you want to save them. But to save their own lives, they abandoned you."

It paused.

"They even launched a sneak attack on you."

Reflected in its compound eyes was the figure of Wei Ziqing holding his sword, and the group of ordinary people huddled together behind him, filled with shock and fear.

"How pitiful."

Wei Ziqing ignored it.

He didn't even look back in the direction the two had fled. He simply turned sideways, holding his sword across his chest, shielding the terrified group of ordinary people behind him more firmly. The plain white armor stood silent in the darkness, like a thin but resilient dam.

"...Intriguing." The Mantis Leader's compound eyes shifted slightly. "Even so, you still intend to protect them?"

Wei Ziqing didn't look back, his voice flat: "That was his personal choice. What does it have to do with the others?"

"Besides." He gripped the sword hilt. "I have a reason I must continue to fight."

"Oh?" The Mantis Leader's voice held a hint of interest. "Then, what is your reason for fighting?"

Wei Ziqing was silent for a moment.

Then he spoke.

His voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear, like nails being driven into a wooden board.

"As long as there are kind people falling into misfortune."

"As long as there are those torn by dilemmas who want to walk the right path, but fear they lack the strength to resist evil."

"As long as there are ignorant people whose wills are twisted by malice—"

"When they need my help."

"I will certainly become their support."

The bone sword shimmered with a cold, faint light in the darkness. None of the ordinary people behind him spoke; even their breathing was kept extremely low.

"I will grasp every hand extended toward me," Wei Ziqing said. "That is my reason for fighting."

He paused.

"—I will not fall just like this."

The Mantis Leader was silent for a few seconds.

Reflected in its compound eyes was this human youth in plain white armor. His sword was still held across his chest, his posture without a hint of wavering, like a nail embedded in a reef.

"...Interesting," it said. "Truly interesting."

Then it moved.

Its forelimbs traced an arc at a speed almost impossible for the naked eye to capture—

Two heads hit the ground almost simultaneously.

Blood spread across the greenish-gray rocky ground; those two bodies even remained standing for half a second before toppling over one after the other. There were no screams, no struggles; they hadn't even realized what happened.

Wei Ziqing's pupils shrank: "You—!"

"I loathe betrayal." The Mantis Leader retracted its scythes, its compound eyes calmly sweeping over the twitching corpses at its feet. "I just wanted to ask you why you still protect them."

It looked at Wei Ziqing.

"Even if you said you wouldn't protect them, I would still have sliced off their heads," it said. "I simply loathe betrayal."

It took a step forward. Its greenish-gray carapace had almost no reflection in the darkness.

"Now, I will give you a chance."

"Fight me. If you win, I will let them leave."

"If you lose, they will return to the cages." It paused. "However, I will spare your life."

The compound eyes reflected Wei Ziqing's fingers suddenly tightening around his sword hilt.

"What a fine proposal, isn't it?"

Wei Ziqing did not answer.

He had already charged out.

"—Fine!"

The bone sword cut through the air, slashing toward that greenish-gray head.

The moment the blade fell—there was nothing beneath it.

Wei Ziqing's pupils constricted.

Simultaneously, a tearing pain came from his back.

He was sent flying.

His body slammed into the rock wall like a kite with a broken string, his spine feeling as if it would shatter under the blow. Wei Ziqing forced his body to twist in mid-air, the soles of his boots scraping against the rock wall as he slid for several meters, barely landing on his feet.

He knelt on one knee.

The bone sword was thrust deep into the ground to halt the impact that had nearly torn him apart.

"...Too fast."

He whispered.

Warm liquid slid down from his temple, dripping onto the blade.

The Mantis Leader had returned to its original spot at some point. It was looking down, using its forelimb to gently wipe away the white armor fragments stuck to its scythe. Its movements were calm and meticulous, like wiping a favorite piece of cutlery.

Its posture could even be called elegant.

The battle between Wei Ziqing and the Mantis Leader was not equal from the very beginning.

It was too fast.

The greenish-gray scythes seemed to blend into the darkness itself, without trajectory or warning; every time they appeared, they were already landing on his blade. Wei Ziqing could only rely on instinct to raise his sword and parry—clang, clang, clang—the sound of metal striking chitin was as dense as a rainstorm, sparks exploding on the blade and then dying out.

He couldn't hit it.

Not even once.

That small frame seemed to contain power completely disproportionate to its size; every strike that slammed into the bone sword made his palms go numb. Wei Ziqing gritted his teeth and did not retreat. Thirty meters behind him were those huddled ordinary people; if he took one step back, the scythes would fall on their heads.

Clang—!

He blocked another slash, but couldn't completely deflect the force. The scythe slid along the blade, cutting diagonally into his left shoulder armor.

Fine cracks splintered across the plain white armor. It hurt.

Wei Ziqing let out a muffled groan, his footsteps faltering.

"...Your speed is decent." The Mantis Leader had retreated three meters away at some point, no emotion visible in its compound eyes. "But that's all."

It disappeared again.

Wei Ziqing couldn't catch its afterimage and could only turn, raise his sword, and block with everything he had—this time, he was half a beat slow. The scythe sliced across the outside of his right arm, cutting an inch-long gash in the silver-white armor.

Blood seeped from the gash, flowing down his forearm and soaking the hand holding the sword.

Damn it.

He stared at the tip of his sword. It was clean, without even a fragment of the opponent's carapace.

Too fast. He couldn't catch it at all.

If this continued, he would be ground to death first.

Wei Ziqing took a deep breath.

Then he made the only, and also the boldest, decision of the night.

He charged forward.

No feints, no dodging, just a straight sword strike toward the Mantis Leader's head. The most basic, most reckless, most desperate frontal assault, like a cornered beast's final struggle.

The Mantis Leader didn't even move; it just tilted its body slightly, letting the strike miss.

"It's useless," it said.

Wei Ziqing ignored it.

His first strike missed, and a second followed. Then a third, a fourth—his sword style became messier, his footsteps heavier, like a prey driven to a dead end making a final, futile struggle.

The Mantis Leader stood its ground, dodging these disorganized slashes with minimal movement. It even had the leisure to tilt its head.

"...What, have you already started to give up?"

Wei Ziqing did not answer.

He lunged forward.

The opening in this attack was absurdly large—his center wide open, his defenses completely exposed. The Mantis Leader swung its scythe almost by instinct.

The greenish-gray forelimb pierced through the plain white abdominal armor.

Wei Ziqing's entire body froze.

Blood surged from the wound, dripping along the curve of the scythe.

"...Foolish," the Mantis Leader said. It didn't withdraw the scythe immediately, perhaps wanting the opponent to feel every second of approaching death more clearly.

Then it saw Wei Ziqing lift his head.

Beneath the visor, those eyes held no fear.

"—Finally, I've caught you."

Wei Ziqing suddenly reached out, death-gripping the scythe arm that had pierced his abdomen. His fingers dug into the gaps in the chitin, his nails splitting and blood flowing freely, but he did not let go.

At the same time, the bone sword cut through the air, slashing toward the Mantis Leader's head.

Clang!

The Mantis Leader parried the strike with its other forelimb. Its movement was still swift, but this time—it couldn't retreat.

Wei Ziqing held onto the scythe in his abdomen, fixing the opponent firmly in place.

"You—!"

Clang clang clang clang clang clang clang—

The bone sword and scythe clashed frantically at close range. Sparks flew like a torrential rain, illuminating the two faces inches apart. Wei Ziqing struck with one hand while the Mantis Leader parried with one arm; neither side had room to dodge anymore, leaving only the most primitive, savage collision of strength.

The sword blade chipped. Fine cracks opened in the carapace. Wei Ziqing's palms were already torn, but his sword-hand did not loosen in the slightest.

The Mantis Leader's compound eyes finally changed—not with fear, but with a kind of surprise that bordered on admiration.

Then Wei Ziqing raised his leg.

Not his sword.

His leg.

The Mantis Leader's attention was entirely on that storm-like bone sword. It hadn't expected this kick.

The sole of his boot slammed heavily into the joint of its abdominal carapace.

In that instant, it lost its balance. For just half a second—the parrying scythe was raised too high, exposing a fatal gap in its chest.

Wei Ziqing's bone sword had already thrust inside.

The sword tip pierced the greenish-gray carapace, sinking into the flesh. The micro-vessels on the blade pumped simultaneously at this moment, injecting the entire tube of Neuroparalytic Toxin into the opponent's body.

The Mantis Leader froze.

It looked down at the sword stuck in its chest. Then it looked up at the human youth before it—the scythe was still stuck in his abdomen, blood covering the ground, yet the hand holding the sword didn't tremble once.

"...Trading injury for life," it said. "You planned this from the very beginning."

Wei Ziqing did not answer.