Chapter 372: The Tragedy of the Magic Seed

As the saying goes, “Looking at a mountain from afar may seem close, but getting there will exhaust even a horse.” 

From here, the tigerfolk village was already faintly visible, with wisps of smoke rising into the sky. But if they were to actually make the journey down there…

Wait a minute—wisps of smoke?

Wu Qingsong suddenly realized something was wrong.

There were still at least two hours before it would be time to cook dinner, and besides, that smoke seemed far too thick.

“Something’s happened!” he immediately said.

Ling instantly summoned the airship. A plane would have been faster, but there was no way to take off in this location.

The two jumped aboard, speeding toward the source of the black smoke. By now, the fire must have fully taken hold, as thick white smoke was billowing out. Through gaps in the trees, they could already see soldiers clad in blue armor. Moments later, the roars of tigerfolk and the furious howls of mastifkin reached their ears.

The airship finally reached the clearing near the village, but those locked in battle below had yet to notice them.

Wu Qingsong saw the soldiers using spears to force back the tigerfolk, preventing them from breaking through the formation. Then, volleys of arrows and bolts rained down, felling the tigerfolk one after another.

The soldiers rushed forward immediately, thrusting their spears into the bodies of the fallen in a frenzy, ensuring they were dead.

“Slaughter the magic seeds!” Wu Qingsong heard someone within the ranks shouting in exhilaration.

Several war wolves were clawing frantically at the village houses, smashing through rooftops and leaping inside to maul the women and the weak. The victims fought back desperately, raking their claws across the beasts’ faces, even biting at their bodies with maddened fury—yet all this did was make the wolves even more ferocious.

Two golden auras shone on the other side of the village, but they were surrounded by soldiers and unable to break free.

“We’re going down!” Wu Qingsong urgently called out.

The airship instantly shifted into plane form, swooping down at the soldiers rushing toward the village. Its razor-sharp wings flashed past, effortlessly slicing through their armor and cutting them clean in half before they could even utter a sound.

It took a moment for the soldiers to register what had happened. Then, panic-stricken cries erupted as they stared at the monstrous flying machine that had already ascended back into the sky. Before they could react, Ling piloted the death-dealing craft into another low pass over their ranks.

Some soldiers still had no idea what was happening, while others, terrified, threw down their weapons and scrambled toward the lower ground. By the time another dozen or so were cut down, all those on the battlefield had finally snapped—bellowing in fear, they fled toward the woods, ditches, and sunken terrain.

But in the next instant, the metallic, silver-glowing object suddenly transformed into a giant, crashing down into the midst of the fleeing soldiers, unleashing another wave of carnage.

Even Wu Qingsong, who had leaped into the fray earlier—landing in a group of soldiers and dealing several injuries and deaths—was left stunned. It had been a long time since any battle near the Icy Sea warranted their direct involvement, and the fight at Gale Island had been against formidable water elementals. Even he hadn’t realized just how terrifying Ling could be as a bringer of death.

A desperate officer spurred his war wolf forward to attack the Gundam-like machine, but in mid-air, the beast was snatched up by one leg and swung like a weapon. The officer was flung from his saddle, crashing into a tree—his fate unknown. 

The remaining soldiers, completely demoralized by the sight, hesitated only for a moment before someone shrieked and bolted into the woods. Within moments, every last soldier had abandoned their weapons and fled in terror.

Wu Qingsong suddenly realized that he hadn’t even had the chance to gather a single soul fragment before Ling had already wiped them out.

The two golden auras hesitated briefly before dashing toward the village, but Ling, still piloting the mechanical giant, took just a few strides to reach them first. The war wolves finally noticed the monstrous entity before them—one snarled in fear, barking wildly at Ling, only to be stomped into pulp under her foot. The rest whimpered and immediately turned tail, vanishing into the trees.

“You are…?” One of the golden auras finally entered the village, and as its glow faded, the tigerfolk warrior known as Sertans staggered forward, falling to his knees, barely stopping himself from collapsing.

The other golden glow also faded, revealing a young tigress Wu Qingsong did not recognize. However, her expression upon seeing him made it clear that she knew him. She must have been one of the children from the village back then.

“Wu…” Sertans’ lips trembled, as if he wanted to express his gratitude, but the sight around him made his whole body shake. He struggled for a long moment but could not form a single word.

Crying came from a house ravaged by the war wolves. Wu Qingsong signaled to Ling to remain on guard while he ran toward the sound.

Inside, four or five children were wailing. Around them, several tigresses lay gravely wounded, blood pooling across the floor. Wu Qingsong hurriedly knelt to administer first aid, but most of them were already unconscious. Their wounds had even stopped bleeding—under such conditions, survival was nearly impossible.

“Mom! Mom!” 

The young tigress who had fought alongside Sertans rushed in after Wu Qingsong, throwing herself onto a bloodied corpse and wailing uncontrollably.

After hastily bandaging the still-conscious survivors, Wu Qingsong ran to another house. Sethans was already there, tending to the wounded. From what Wu Qingsong could see, there were barely a dozen tigerfolk still alive—and most of them were children or the elderly.

“Bari and the others?” Wu Qingsong finally remembered the name of the young tigerfolk who had dreamed of becoming an adventurer. But Sertans only froze for a moment before shaking his head.

Wu Qingsong stepped outside the ruined home. Nearly all the male tigerfolk lay dead near the village’s perimeter, their bodies riddled with arrows. Even then, they had clearly been struck down with finishing blows—several had even been decapitated.

In the distant forest, faint figures could be seen moving—likely the surviving soldiers who had now regained some composure, cautiously observing the village, trying to make sense of what they had just witnessed.

They were clearly troops sent by a local lord to exterminate the magic seeds. Wu Qingsong had heard of such things long ago, but today, for the first time, he had witnessed it with his own eyes.

The furious face of Red Moon seemed to appear before him once more.

“The Gate of Calamity did not appear only now. Before the elves ruled this world, the beastfolk were the ones protecting it from the insectoids. You have seen the elves’ role in this war, but if they had not spent centuries slaughtering talented beastfolk, the insectoids might never have had the chance to break free!”

“The elves destroyed the very power that could have safeguarded this world. Now, they are merely suffering the backlash of their own sins. They deserve every bit of it!”

Had she once endured the same thing? Had she watched as her own kin were slaughtered, their heads taken as trophies?