According to the original plot, the outlander William not only beca the protagonist—he even smuggled black powder back to Albion.
Not this ti.
"Drag them out. Behead them."
General Shaw’s order was final. The two rcenaries died still confused about what had given them away.
With the matter closed, Fenric was formally accepted into the Naless Order. His shredded school uniform was swapped for regulation gear. At his request he wore light black armor—reinforced but not as heavy as full plate. Less protection, far more mobility. That suited him.
At first light the next day—
"Commander Wu, morning."
"Sir Fenric—early."
Fenric produced a rolled drawing. "I’ve heard Commander Wu is unmatched at forging. I’d like your help making... a few toys."
Commander Wu unrolled the parchnt. A narrow, double‑edged short blade, symtrical—no grip.
"What kind of weapon is this? A thrown dagger? Hidden blade?" Commander Wu asked, intrigued.
Fenric smiled. "Hidden weapon. I’ll need twenty."
Commander Wu rembered yesterday’s duel—Fenric snatching and returning an arrow with surgical accuracy. If anyone could make use of flying steel, it was this man. So he slapped his chest. "Wrapped. I’ll have them done before noon!"
"Many thanks."
Why he wanted them?
Simple. Because directly steering large weapons with mind power burns through ntal energy. Small mass = light load. A storm of palm‑length blades, guided by thought? Lethal—and efficient.
Free for the morning, Fenric walked the Great Wall for the first ti in either of his lives. Dawn drills were in full swing.
Eagle Army
Archers loosed in disciplined volleys under Commander Chen. He still hadn’t gotten over having his arrow returned to his forehead; he pretended not to see Fenric. Fenric only chuckled and kept walking.
Crane Army
Slender figures in azure harness took turns launching off the parapet attached to counterweighted lines—zipline assaults. Spear down, stab the target, get winched back before the Taotie swarm closed. In theory.
In practice? Anyone who’d seen the movie knew: the Crane Army took brutal casualties. Taotie could leap. A mistid drop ant being snatched mid‑air and shredded before the line hauled you ho.
"Commander Lin—morning."
"Sir Fenric." Lin i’s eyes brightened as she turned. In fitted armor he looked nothing like the ragged traveler from yesterday; every line of muscle filled the cuirass cleanly. Power radiated off him in waves. So this is what a real man should look like, she thought before catching herself.
"How did you sleep?" she asked.
"Best rest I’ve had in a long ti." That was no lie. Since entering the Samsara Space, his sleep had been ragged at best. Last night he’d actually relaxed.
"You’re not here to drill?"
"Just looking around." He glanced toward the won diving from the wall. "Charging in face‑first like that... dangerously close to the enemy, isn’t it?"
Lin i exhaled softly. "It’s the duty of soldiers."
Fenric fell silent. He’s not a straight steel man who will open his mouth and crush the mood with battlefield mortality.
So after a beat, he changed his wording. "I heard the Taotie Beast Queen wakes every sixty years. Is it true?"
"It is." Lin i’s expression turned grave. "Each awakening brings a full assault."
"When’s the next one?"
"Soon. The General estimates within the month."
"Any way to stop them?"
"Kill the Beast Queen." Lin i’s tone was iron. "Without it, the horde collapses."
They spoke a while longer—until a shout cut through the morning drills.
"Commander! Look—beacon smoke!"
Fenric followed the pointing finger. Far to the north, a column of wolf smoke climbed the sky.
Ancient signal fires did not rise without cause.
"That direction..." Lin i’s face was drained of color. "No! The Taotie Beast Queen has awakened!" She spun. "Inform the General—now!"
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