A full‑grown taotie weighed six to seven hundred catties—all corded muscle, crushing bite force, and saber fangs. Ordinary soldiers lasted only an instant.
But Fenric was anything but ordinary.
His current physical stats utterly outclassed a taotie’s raw power. A thousand catties? He could haul it. Add mind power—while he couldn’t outright puppet a taotie, he could nudge, tug, and foul its motion at key monts.
The fight was over in minutes.
Seven taotie. Seven kills. All by one man.
The last beast tried to flee. Fenric snagged its tail, skidded it back across the dirt, and finished it cleanly.
Gulp.
All along the wall, soldiers swallowed hard. Several looked faint.
"In all my years... could he be a war god descended?" the wall Captain muttered, eyes wide.
Boots thundered from deeper within the ramparts.
An all‑female unit in azure scale armor trotted into view, formation tight, weapons ready. At their head strode a striking young woman: wide, alert eyes; pale skin; dark hair pulled back; posture straight as a spear. The armor only amplified the fierce, commanding aura she carried.
The captain hurried forward, saluting with clenched fist. "Subordinate greets Commander Lin!"
The woman nodded once. This was Lin i, Commander of the fad Crane Army—an elite corps composed entirely of won. Dismiss them at your peril; line for line, they matched any male formation on the Wall.
"Where are the taotie?" Lin i asked.
"Tao—" The Captain had to swallow. "They’re all dead, General."
"Oh?" She arched a brow. "Well done. Casualties?"
"None, General. Seven taotie—killed by one man."
"What?" Lin i’s composure slipped. "Impossible. Who could—?"
"That man, below the wall."
She followed his pointing hand. Below lay seven hulking carcasses scattered across the slope—and a lone youth with a black sword, clothes torn, but seemingly uninjured.
"He killed them all alone?" she pressed.
"Yes!" the Captain said, then rushed to explain. "He arrived first, alone, claiming to be Han. His garb was strange, so we held him outside. Then seven taotie appeared—he cut them down, every last one. The clash shook the ground; he fought like a god co to earth. Those beasts—invincible to us—couldn’t last a breath before him..."
Lin i felt as if she were listening to myth. Yet the proof lay below in reeking heaps. She’d fought taotie herself; even with her skill she couldn’t guarantee a one‑on‑one kill, much less seven straight—and walk away without a scratch.
Fenric stepped back into view beneath the parapet and called up, voice ringing clear: "Hey! I am Han. I’ve lived overseas all my life, so I might look a bit different from you folks."
He looked up at "Jing Tian"–esque beauty on the wall and confird it in his heart.
[TL/n: Jing Tian. It’s the real na of the actress who played Lin i.]
It’s really the Great Wall.
So this was his personal instance.
The Captain leaned close to Lin i. "General, his speech is like our Han tongue... but twisted. Strange."
Of course it’s strange, Fenric thought. Modern vernacular isn’t ancient Han.
Lin i frowned, considering, then raised her voice. "You say you’re from overseas? Which land?"
Fenric admired her for half a beat—then answered, "I grew up in the Albion lands. From my father I learned my blood is Han, so I ca seeking my holand."
"Oh? Have you proof?" Lin i asked.
The line jogged his mory. In the film’s plot, Commander Lin i had studied Anglish from a foreign captive—so he declared, "I can speak the Anglish language."
"Let’s hear it," she said.
Fenric switched tongues without hesitation, crisp and fluent: "Beauty, you are so beautiful."
Lin i’s expression changed at once.
Of everyone on the wall, only she understood his Anglish.
Lin i was no delicate flower; beneath the armor beat a serious soldier’s heart. When the foreigner below chose his first Anglish sentence to praise her looks... anger flared before embarrassnt ever had a chance.
[TL/n: Cringe right? Lmao.]
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