Chapter 327: Chapter 300: Summoning Reinforcements

Tide Sound Plain. Dusk was falling.

On the pockmarked plains, dried blood had stained the earth into large, dark-brown crusts that made a faint CRUNCH when stepped on.

Countless blood-soaked bodies lay scattered across the ground.

In the most densely packed area, dozens of human corpses were piled in a low-lying ditch.

"This was quite a fierce battle."

Evan’s expression was somber as his gaze swept over the field of bodies, finally landing on a few fish scales on the ground nearby.

The scales were a dark cyan, their edges thinly coated with blood that hadn’t completely dried.

He crouched down, lifted a scale with the tip of his sword to examine it, and said, "The wounds on the bodies show the piercing characteristics of the conical blades Fishmen favor. That, plus these scales, means the other side of the fight must have been Fishmen. And they won—they took all their own people’s bodies with them."

Ryan kicked at a broken blade by his feet and commented casually, "The Tide Sound Plain really is chaotic. To think they’d fight this hard over a single salt mine."

Evan was noncommittal.

The Tide Sound Plain was home to many races—humans, halflings, the Sea Race, Fishmen, and Beastmen, to name a few—forming hundreds of factions. It could be described as a total melting pot.

The geopolitics were unstable, and there was little trust or camaraderie between the various races. The discovery of any resource point was enough to trigger a bloody conflict.

As a result, warfare here was more frequent than in other regions.

"Whatever, why worry about it?" Ryan said, taking out his Soul-Gathering Banner. "We’re just here to collect Residual Souls."

Evan nodded, took out his own Soul-Gathering Banner, and channeled a wisp of Spiritual Qi into it.

In an instant, the dark red patterns on the banner’s surface lit up inch by inch, spreading intricately across the cloth.

Then, the banner trembled lightly, and a gray-white mist emanated from its edges. It spread out slowly, clinging to the ground like a thin haze covering the wasteland, silently expanding in all directions.

Wherever the mist passed, translucent, grayish-white humanoid figures gradually appeared in the air, as if coalesced from smoke and dust.

They floated in the void, their forms ethereal. They had no facial features, only the vague shapes of limbs and torsos, like dreams not yet fully formed.

Evan then planted the banner’s pole in the ground, sat down cross-legged, and formed a hand seal.

An invisible suction spiraled out from the center of the banner, enveloping the entire mist.

In the next moment, the mist began to slowly contract, gathering toward the banner’s center like a receding tide.

The phantoms were helplessly swept up by the mist and gradually absorbed into the Soul-Gathering Banner.

When the last wisp of mist had vanished into the banner, not a single phantom could be seen within a hundred-meter radius of Evan.

Only the empty plains and a lingering chill in the wind remained.

Evan closed his eyes, sensing the Soul Power accumulated in the banner. He calculated for a moment and nodded to himself.

’These Residual Souls should be enough to refine at least four or five wandering-spirit-level Shadow Soldiers.’

Nearby, Ryan also finished gathering souls.

The two then moved to a new location and continued collecting Residual Souls.

It took them about half an hour to finish collecting all the Residual Souls from the entire battlefield.

"A great harvest," Ryan said, his face full of delight. "There were a lot of Residual Souls on this battlefield, as much as we’ve gathered in the last half-month. After we turn them in, we’ll definitely be able to exchange them for a ton of Contribution Points."

"Turning them in as raw materials would be too wasteful," Evan countered. "I heard the Meeting Hall posted a mission to refine Shadow Soldiers. We could refine these Residual Souls into Shadow Soldiers ourselves before turning them in. We’d get more Contribution Points that way."

Ryan was taken aback for a moment, then nodded. "Makes sense."

Just then, the sound of urgent footsteps suddenly came from the distance.

Their conversation interrupted, Evan and Ryan turned to look and saw a group of figures running frantically toward them.

Faint, panicked shouts and the cries of children could be heard.

"That’s... Half-Elves!"

Relying on his excellent eyesight, Evan quickly made out the faces of the newcomers.

It was a group of tattered, ragged Half-Elves.

Evan’s expression shifted. His gaze went past them, focusing on what was behind.

Sure enough, about a hundred meters behind the Half-Elves, more than twenty burly men in leather armor and carrying weapons were in hot pursuit.

From the chains and nets hanging from their bodies, it wasn’t hard to guess their identity.

"It’s a Slave Hunting Team," Ryan said, frowning as he looked at Evan. "What do we do?"

Evan put away his Soul-Gathering Banner and replied without hesitation, "Half-Elves appearing in the eastern part of the continent at this time are, nine times out of ten, heading for the Clan. Since they’re future companions, we can’t just stand by and watch."

"Besides, we have standing orders from above. Any Slave Hunting Team that dares to intercept those seeking refuge on the way is to be eliminated."

Ryan wasn’t surprised by Evan’s answer. He nodded and took out his Magical Treasure.

The two of them then charged toward the group of Half-Elves.

They were incredibly fast, reaching the front of the Half-Elf group in just a few bounds.

Seeing two Elves suddenly appear before them, the Half-Elves were stunned at first. But when they clearly saw the oak emblem on their chests, their faces lit up with ecstatic joy.

’Elves from the Silver Moon Race! We’re saved!’

But this joy lasted for less than a breath.

They soon noticed that only two Elves had rushed over; there was no one else in sight.

Instantly, the hope that had just ignited was quickly extinguished, and despair flooded their hearts once more.

’The Slave Hunting Team behind us has over twenty people. Just two Elves are no match for them at all.’

At the same time, the Slave Hunting Team also noticed Evan and Ryan, and their expressions changed in unison.

"That emblem... They’re from the Silver Moon Race!"

"Dammit, it’s these guys again! They’re like ghosts you can’t shake!"

"How do we run into them everywhere?"

They had heard the stories about the Silver Moon Race hunting down and killing Slave Hunting Teams everywhere.

They originally thought that since the Tide Sound Plain was so far from the Green Highlands, they shouldn’t run into anyone from the Silver Moon Race. They never expected to bump into them anyway.

"Captain, what do we do?"

The group all looked toward their burly leader.

The captain’s expression wavered for a few seconds before a ruthless glint appeared in his eyes. He said coldly, "There are only two Elves. Kill them, capture the Half-Elves, and no one will ever know it was us!"

The members of the Slave Hunting Team thought about it and agreed. Killing intent reappeared on their faces.

In the next moment, however, they saw the two Elves raise their hands in unison. Four golden beans flew from their grasp, landing with a CLINK.

’What are those?’

The question flashed through the minds of the Slave Hunting Team members.

Before they could figure it out, the golden light suddenly exploded.

Four blurry silhouettes in the light rapidly solidified, expanded, and grew, transforming in the blink of an eye into four behemoths, each a full three meters tall.

They were clad in Dark Gold Armor, their faces covered by iron masks. The Golden Melon Hammers in their hands rested on the ground, radiating a heavy, intimidating aura.

The savage grins on the faces of the slave hunters instantly froze.

But the Yellow Turban Warriors didn’t pause. They strode forward in unison, charging toward the Slave Hunting Team like war chariots and crashing into the crowd in the blink of an eye.

BANG!

A Golden Melon Hammer swept out, sending three men flying. Shields shattered and bodies fell, like building blocks scattered by the wind.

Another Warrior brought its hammer down, striking a man squarely on the shoulder. The man let out a muffled grunt as his shoulder was instantly pulverized. His knees slammed into the dirt, and he couldn’t get back up.

The Slave Hunting Team tried to spread out and flank them, but the four Warriors coordinated perfectly. Each held a position, their crisscrossing hammer shadows tearing the formation of more than twenty men to shreds.

Someone swung a blade at a Warrior’s Arm Armor, sending sparks flying in an instant.

But not only did the blow fail to harm the Yellow Turban Warrior, the recoil split the web of the attacker’s hand. The blade of his weapon bent, and the man himself was sent staggering backward from the force.

Before he could even catch his breath, he was smashed to the ground by a Yellow Turban Warrior’s hammer. Blood spurted from his mouth and nose; he was clearly dead.

The Yellow Turban Warriors possessed the combat power of mid-tier Silver. Facing a Slave Hunting Team of twenty-odd men who were at most Black Iron Tier, dealing with them was almost laughably easy.

Evan and Ryan had only managed to kill one or two members of the Slave Hunting Team before the four Yellow Turban Warriors finished off the rest.

Nearby, the Half-Elves stood frozen, staring blankly at the scene before them, unable to process it for a long moment.

’That vicious Slave Hunting Team... was defeated just like that?’

’So this is what the Elves of the Silver Moon Race are like?’

’They’re incredible!’

Only when Evan and Ryan recalled the Yellow Turban Warriors and walked over did the Half-Elves finally snap out of it.

A Half-Elf man who appeared to be their leader hurried forward and bowed deeply. "Milords, thank you for your help."

Evan said with a gentle expression, "We are from the Silver Moon Race. If I’m not mistaken, you are here to seek refuge with the Clan?"

"Yes," the Half-Elf man nodded quickly. "We heard the news that the Silver Moon Race was willing to accept Half-Elves, so we came immediately."

Ryan glanced at the Half-Elves, their faces showing the relief of having survived a disaster, and asked curiously, "Is this all of you?"

"No." A bitter expression appeared on the Half-Elf man’s face. "Our group originally had over a hundred people, but not long ago, a Slave Hunting Team... the accomplices of the men you just fought, captured many of our kin, so now..."

At this point, the Half-Elf man gritted his teeth as if making a difficult decision. He looked up at Evan and Ryan, his eyes pleading. "I know this is sudden, but could I ask you two milords to please rescue our companions?"

Evan and Ryan exchanged a glance, both hesitating.

They had come out to collect Residual Souls; escorting Half-Elves was not part of their mission.

Helping out when they happened to cross paths was one thing, but going out of their way for a dedicated rescue mission would take too much time.

But looking at the miserable group of Half-Elves before them, they couldn’t find it in their hearts to refuse. After a moment’s hesitation, they sighed to themselves and agreed.

Seeing Evan and Ryan agree, the Half-Elf man was overjoyed.

"Thank you, thank you, milords! I’ll take you there right now..."

Evan waved his hand, interrupting him. "Not so fast. First, let’s find a place to settle your people. Then you can tell me about that Slave Hunting Team."

The Half-Elf man glanced at his exhausted kin, realized his mistake, and nodded repeatedly. "Yes, yes. I was being too hasty."

After that, Evan and Ryan led the Half-Elves to the nearest town and rented a few rooms to temporarily house them.

Although Half-Elves weren’t well-regarded in mainstream society, as long as they stayed within the town, protected by its walls and guards, they wouldn’t have to worry about being captured by a Slave Hunting Team.

Evan also went out of his way to buy a batch of clean clothes and food from the town’s merchant guild for the Half-Elves to distribute among themselves.

Only after all this was done did he begin to question the Half-Elf man for intelligence on the Slave Hunting Team.

The answer he received made him frown slightly.

The Slave Hunting Team that had captured the Half-Elves was surprisingly large.

They had even established a camp in the wilderness, specifically for holding captured slaves and serving as a transit point for slave transport.

This wasn’t something a mere Slave Hunting Team could accomplish on their own. There was clearly another power supporting them from behind the scenes.

’Looks like the two of us won’t be enough.’

Evan sighed. With a flick of his wrist, a Cyan Jade feather about a palm’s length, shaped like a bird’s tail feather, appeared out of thin air in his hand.

He gripped the base of the feather and injected a trace of Spiritual Qi.

The feather trembled slightly, then flew from his grasp on its own, transforming in mid-air into a palm-sized bird of Spiritual Light.

It circled once in place, then beat its wings and soared high into the sky, trailing a long, thin, cyan tail of light.

This kind of Thousand Mechanism Feather was one of the essential tools for disciples of Taichu City when they were out training or on missions.

It could emit a unique fluctuation of Spiritual Qi within a certain range. If there were other disciples from Taichu City nearby, they would sense the fluctuation, know that one of their own was in trouble, and come immediately.

The enemy was numerous and powerful. Evan had no intention of charging in recklessly with just the two of them. The priority was to summon enough reinforcements first.

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