Chapter 1030 - 375: The First Sword at Humanity’s Dawn!!

Arctic Great Wall.

Veteran Bar.

The heavy wooden door shielded against the bone-chilling wind outside.

But it couldn’t block the steam inside, the spicy scent of cheap tobacco, and the rich aroma of strong beer.

It was nearing evening, the bar bustling with heads, voices rising to a fever pitch.

The men who had just rotated from the front lines took off their combat uniforms and changed into worn-out cotton jackets or shiny leather vests.

They gathered in groups of threes and fours around the sturdy wooden tables.

The crisp sound of coarse ceramic bowls clashing, hearty laughter mixed with curses, and the intermittent whimper of a harmonica from the corner.

All melded into the unique warmth of this frozen land.

In the corner near the bar.

A man sat alone.

He appeared to be around forty, his face etched with wind and frost, showing indifference.

Sunken eyes within carried a near-void silence.

As if he’d seen too much snow and death.

Without a hint of emotional fluctuation.

He wore a deep-gray casual jacket washed until faded, frayed cuffs.

At odds with the men around him in standardized combat clothes or thick leather coats.

Slovenly, or rather, a complete disregard for outward appearance.

His name was Mo Yan.

A name that had served the Arctic Front for twenty whole years.

A name that ought to carry power and status, perhaps even command a prestigious unit.

Yet now, he was just a lone person.

Listed in the Federation Army Department only as a basic combat personnel.

The sole purpose was to obtain the permission to hunt outside the city as a lone wolf.

A coarse ceramic sea bowl sat on the table before him.

Within was cloudy cheap beer.

He lifted the bowl, his wrist steady without a tremble, raised his head and took a deep gulp.

The icy liquid slid down his throat, bringing a brief burning sensation, quickly enveloped by deeper cold.

A few drops of beer trickled down his mouth, he bothered not to wipe.

Letting it drip along the stubble of his chin.

Spreading a small dark stain on the greasy tabletop.

Twenty years.

From a spirited youth to the silent, solitary wolf he was now.

His existence seemed to hold only two purposes.

Killing Life Ghosts, and in this noisy bar.

Numb himself with the cheapest alcohol.

Waiting for the next chance to head outside the city.

"Tsk... This ghostly weather, a drink is better than anything else."

A complaint rang from a nearby table, the sound loud.

Instantly overpowering the surrounding clamor.

Mo Yan didn’t lift an eyelid, as if he hadn’t heard.

Four or five burly men sat at that table, led by a sturdy man with a thick beard covering his face.

His face bore the red-black marks of constant exposure to sun and wind, now slapping the table, saliva flying.

His name was Hu Biao, also a seasoned veteran of the front.

Always well-informed.

"Biaozi, stop howling, you’ll deafen our ears."

A leaner companion next to him grimaced, rubbing an ear.

"Aren’t we just resting a few days after the Ice Claw tide? Can’t you settle down instead of shouting?"

"Settle what!"

Hu Biao widened his eyes, gulped down another mouthful of beer, his throat making a gulping sound, wiped his mouth, and suddenly donned a mysterious expression, leaning slightly forward, lowering his voice, clear enough that tables nearby could faintly hear.

"I’m worried for you all, holed up here like tortoises drinking horse piss, do you know what’s happening outside? A colossal thing!"

His enigmatic demeanor indeed piqued his companions’ curiosity.

A scar-faced companion immediately leaned closer: "What? Another squad overwhelmed? Or a bigwig coming for an inspection?"

"Bah! That’s nothing."

Hu Biao sneered, eyeing everyone, pausing intentionally, relishing the focused attention, then threw the bomb, word by word.

"A few days ago, a brother of mine, went out on an external reconnaissance mission, guess what he saw on the ice shore outside the Great Wall?"

"What? Couldn’t be Life Ghosts performing tricks, could it?"

The scar-faced man scoffed.

"Get lost!"

Hu Biao punched him, though his face bore a glow of near-elation.

His voice lowered further, yet became clearer.

"Construction site! A damn huge construction site, as far as the eye can see, machines roaring, a sea of people, lights bright as day."

"Construction site?" The lean man frowned.

Instinctively glancing around, his tone carried professional caution.

"It’s near the Ice Sea, the closest coast is over a hundred kilometers from the Great Wall, building what? Secret defense works? Biaozi, are you sure this can be talked about recklessly? Leaking secrets costs heads."

Mo Yan’s hand holding the bowl paused imperceptibly.

The cloudy beer wobbled gently along the bowl’s edge, reflecting his deep pond-like eyes.

"Nonsense! You think I don’t know the rules?"

Hu Biao shot the lanky man a glance, beating his chest.

"If it weren’t cleared, would I dare shout in here? My brother was curious, went over and asked a foreman who looked like a small boss over there, he spoke directly, it’s not secret works."

"Not works? Then what? Surely not building houses for people?" The scar-faced man looked skeptical, "That ghostly place, Life Ghosts are denser than snowflakes, you know one can splash patrol ghost claws just relieving themselves at midnight."

"Hey!" Hu Biao had been waiting for this, slapped his thigh hard.

A look of irrepressible pride and a kind of historical witness excitement on his face.

"You’ve hit the nail on the head, it’s precisely building houses, building a city, a real big city, right outside the Great Wall, on the ice sea surface!"