The next morning, the sun drove the wandering rotten wolf back to its nest, but it also brought howling winds and fist-sized sand and stones. From the mining site to the west, there is an endless Gobi Desert where fiery red rocks are blown by the wind and sand, forming pillars with numerous holes and cavities. Looking around, one can only see a few low, sharp thorns scattered all over, and the branches and leaves contain highly toxic sand thorns.
Rock scorpions and giant bellied black bees are both deadly threats, but the biggest danger is the lack of water, even polluted water filled with radiation. When the rock scorpions hide in the cracks of the rocks to avoid sunlight, a boy appears at the edge of the Gobi. He wraps his body tightly in a black blanket, holding a small child in his bandaged hand, who is also covered in a black blanket. In the compound eyes of the rock scorpions, two figures, one large and one small, hold hands and slowly walk towards the depths of the Gobi. Suddenly, a gust of strong wind blows over and lifts the blanket on the child's head, revealing long gray, silky hair that shines brightly under the sunlight.
The young man stops, carefully tucks her long hair back together, covers her with a blanket again, and then takes her hand to continue walking towards the depths of the Gobi. After walking like this for a whole week, they finally find the cave mentioned by Old Jack and also discover the mutated leech. The young man places the girl in the cave and walks alone towards the nest of the fire ant in the darkness. It isn't until dusk on the third day that the boy struggles back. The little girl sits quietly at the entrance of the cave, waiting for him to return, without knowing how long she has been sitting.
This evening, the little girl furrows her brows and uses her snow-white teeth to fully bite into the blue-white, rubbery flesh of the fire ant. The ant meat is tough and fishy, but she tries to chew every piece of meat finely and swallow it, even licking the juice on her fingers clean. Deep in the cave, the young man hides in the darkness, cleaning up the crisscrossing and deeply visible wounds on his body bit by bit. The mutated leech, which is soaked in fresh blood, lazily crawls out of the porcelain bowl and silently slides into the sparkling sewage pool, diving deep into the pool, leaving half a bowl of clear water in the porcelain bowl.
It takes three days for a young man to go to the nest of a fire ant. So the lives of teenagers, girls, and leeches repeat in a cycle of three days. Three years later, the leech dies. No matter what changes occur, the sun will always rise. The boy and girl stand side by side at the entrance of the cave, and the strong wind blows their tattered blankets, occasionally pulling a piece of broken wool from them. "We have to go to the settlement now." The young man's voice is always gentle and calm, with a faintly revealing magnetism that is even deeper and wider.
The girl has now grown to the young man's chest. She leans against him, wraps herself in a tight blanket, and whispers, "I'm afraid." "Don't be afraid, I will protect you." The young man's voice is firm, showing unwavering determination. However, only he himself would know how much confidence there can be. The young man brings four carefully selected fire ant forelimbs. Old Jack once said that this thing should sell for a good price in a settlement, and a good price means food and clean water. His experience in mining tells him that he should not bring too many things that can sell at a good price; otherwise, there will be trouble.
The young man walks ahead, while the girl leads him by the corner of his clothes, walking together towards the desolate and despairing front. Westrovia is a settlement that has only developed in the past decade. There are already five to six hundred people of all kinds living here, and bars, hotels, restaurants, grocery stores, and clinics have all opened one after another. There is even a sheriff responsible for maintaining order. The power of the sheriff comes from the Uzi submachine gun that he always carries on his back. Compared to the common wine bottles, iron bars, machetes, and even homemade gunpowder guns in the surrounding area, the police chief's submachine gun is clearly more convincing. Therefore, there is basic order in Westrovia, where at least people cannot be killed casually. If someone is killed, there must be a legitimate reason to do so. The reason recognized by the sheriff is a legitimate reason. On this day, a real big shot arrives in Westrovia, and some people of different positions go outside to greet him. Those who are not qualified to go are excitedly discussing the big shot, even though they don't even know if the big shot is a man or a woman. In this way, no one pays special attention to the young couple entering the town. The butcher in town runs the only hotel. After collecting a top-notch fire ant blade, he is very happy to open a room for the boy and girl, and even offers a free dinner. Of course, if you want high-quality goods with low radiation, a flamethrower ant blade is not enough.
The young man asks the girl to rest in the room and takes the remaining Fire Ant Blades out of the hotel. He hears that this item can be sold at a better price in the grocery store. Before leaving the house, the young man carefully arranges an inconspicuous mechanism on the door. From the butcher's unnaturally wide smile, the young man has a premonition that there might be trouble, but he doesn't expect it to come so quickly. Just after passing a crossroads, the young man is stopped by two people. It is clear that they are malicious from the square-headed wooden stick in one of their hands. "Hi, kid! I heard you have a Spitfire Ant Blade for sale. Our boss wants to talk to you," one of them says. The young man hesitates for a moment, then follows the three of them into a secluded alley and walks into a relatively complete large house. There is a big man sitting in the center of the room, seemingly the leader, while the three people behind intentionally or unintentionally block the entrance.
The boss was clearly satisfied with the boy who always kept his head lowered. He said, "Kid! You can call me Viper. I heard you have a Fire Spitting Ant Blade, which is great. No matter how many you have, I'll take them. This is your reward." The young man looked at a hard, stone-like black bread that rolled to his feet and slowly bent down to pick it up. At the same time, he placed the three Fire Ant Blades on his back on the ground. Although the bread was hard enough to last a long time, its radiation level was not high. The girl had grown up and could withstand the radiation from this food.
When he stood up straight, he noticed that the three people behind him hadn't moved away from the door, and their hands gripping the wooden sticks showed signs of force.
Viper also stood up and took out a handmade single-barrel gunpowder shotgun from his back. Smiling grimly, he said, "You are quite up to date and aware of current affairs. If you had completed this transaction, you would have made a living. Unfortunately, the butcher reported that you also brought along a thin little girl, so there's no way out. Actually, I'm not the boss, just the boss's messenger. The boss's name is Black Bear, and he's probably having a great time with that little girl! There's no way out; the boss is nearly as big as a mutant, but he prefers children. Alright, kid, it's time to hit the road! I hope that little girl is still breathing by the time I get there."
At that moment, the boy, who was hiding his ear under the bandage, suddenly heard a faint dripping sound. It was the sound of the metal plate he was hanging on the door being broken and scraped. These high-frequency sound waves were inaudible to ordinary people.
He raised his head abruptly. Although his face was hidden in the shadows of the blanket, his left eye shone like a green flame. "You..." The Viper let out a startled cry, which ended abruptly. Then a loud gunshot echoed from the room, shattering the only intact glass and filling the air with the pungent smell of gunpowder. The boy, wrapped in a black blanket, appeared at the entrance of the butcher's inn like a ghost. The door, haphazardly nailed with wooden boards, was half-opened, and a strong stench of blood wafted from inside. A profound silence enveloped the hotel, intermittently interrupted by soft sobbing. The young man paused at the door before stepping into the hotel, leaving behind a trail of bloodstains.
The butcher stood frozen at the door of the boy's room, his eyes wide with fear. All that remained of him was his head; his body was nowhere to be found. The door of the room was slightly ajar, and blood gushed out from underneath like a spring, sending a shiver down one's spine. The boy stood amidst the blood, and the warmth on his skin told him that it was still fresh. He gently pushed open the partially covered door and entered in silence.
The girl was sitting in the middle of the room, huddled with her knees hugged tightly to her chest, her head buried deep between her knees. She wept softly. The black blanket that always wrapped around her was tossed aside in a corner of the room, and the rough wooden bed had completely collapsed. The girl wore a coarse but spotlessly clean skirt. Her exposed skin, whether it was her arms or her calves, was fair and tender, reminiscent of a time when she could drive men in the whole city mad with desire.
The room had transformed into a living hell. Human flesh and limbs were strewn about, leaving almost no space to move. Some fresh organs still wriggled, and the walls were stained black and red from the splattered blood. Blood continued to pour from the shattered limbs, forming puddles several centimeters deep on the floor. It was impossible to determine if the butcher's body was present or which pieces of meat belonged to Black Bear. Everything had been cut up and mixed together.
The girl sat there, amidst this bloody and fleshy nightmare. Her long, beautiful gray hair cascaded down like a waterfall, delicate and silky, with the ends soaked in blood. Next to her lay a giant square-bladed bone-chopping knife with a blade length of one meter. The blade was riddled with gaps, and numerous thin tendons hung from it. Only when dealing with furious iron bears, whose bones were as hard as rocks, would the butcher use this stainless-steel square-bladed bone cutter.
Upon hearing the sound of the door, the girl lifted her head and saw the boy. A rainbow-like smile immediately spread across her face, and in the sunlight streaming in from the window, the tears hanging at the corners of her eyes glimmered like two sparkling diamonds. The boy sighed and carefully found his way among the limbs scattered on the floor as he approached the girl. She didn't mind the blood and threw herself into his arms, splattering blood along the way. The young man gently stroked her long, gray hair, which remained soft and warm despite being drenched in blood. No bloodstains clung to it for long. "I'm scared," the girl whispered. Her little hands tightly gripped the bandages wrapped around the boy's body, unintentionally causing him pain. The boy knew she was truly scared, but he didn't know how to ease her fears.
Inhabited areas always bring trouble, but in the wilderness, it is becoming increasingly difficult to find food. The biggest lacking resource is clean water. In this era, survival is the first thing everyone faces every day. When it comes to survival, there is no room for tolerance or sharing. In the eyes of others, anyone could potentially have access to clean food and water. Suddenly, there was a loud commotion outside the hotel. Someone shouted, "Outsiders have been killed! The butcher is dead! I saw them still inside!" The crowd's shouts grew louder, and the sound of metal banging could be heard intermittently. Judging from the noise, there were at least dozens of people surrounding the hotel, which only had four rooms. The boy lightly tapped the girl and silently took out a meticulously crafted fire-breathing ant blade from under the black blanket. Half of the blade was missing, leaving only the sharpest tip. Each sawtooth on the blade emitted a faint blue light, and the handle was carefully polished and tightly wrapped with a coarse cloth belt. In terms of power, this weapon was comparable to the military daggers of the old era.
The boy tightly clenched the blade, waiting quietly for the moment when the crowd would break through the door. The girl stopped crying, her beautiful blue eyes scanning the room, eventually fixating on the square-bladed bone-chopping knife. She reached out her small hand, attempting to grab the knife. She knew how to use it well. However, the boy extended his left hand and pulled the girl back, preventing her from touching the knife. He protected the girl behind him and kept a watchful eye on the door and windows. Although the windows were nailed shut with wooden planks, there was no guarantee that no one would attempt to enter through them. "Quiet!" the commanding voice of the sheriff sounded from outside the hotel, immediately quieting the noise and demonstrating his authority, although it was not enough. "Let me assess the situation first! Damn it, what a bloody smell. How many people have died inside?"
With a loud bang, the sheriff kicked open the door of the hotel, causing the crowd to gasp. Then, with another bang, the sheriff's Uzi was already primed. At that moment, a cold and menacing voice suddenly echoed from outside, "Move aside! Make way for Madam!" The boy immediately heard several screams and the thudding sound of heavy objects falling to the ground. People quickly dispersed to make way. However, the chaotic uproar outside had completely subsided. The mob, including the sheriff, fell into complete silence. No one dared to make a sound or voice any opposition. Amidst the rumbling noises, smoke, and dust, the walls, gates, and roof of the hotel were forcibly dismantled. With a snort, a hand wearing a dark black leather glove pierced through the thin iron sheet used as a wall. With a firm grip and pull, the entire sheet of iron was torn off and thrown more than ten meters away. It was a tall, handsome, arrogant, and cold young man with short blond hair standing upright like a blazing flame. He wore a half-body armor made of silver-gray alloy, protecting vital areas such as the front chest, back heart, and lower abdomen. Under the armor, he wore a dark black uniform adorned with dark gold stripes. The long leather boots on his feet shone brightly, in stark contrast with the surrounding chaos. This person, just moments ago, demolished everything in his path from the intersection, more than ten meters away, to this spot in a matter of minutes, using only his bare hands. He created a five-meter-wide path through the random houses.
The boy, the girl, and the horror within the room were now exposed to everyone's sight. The girl raised her head, gazing in bewilderment at the crowd surrounding her. This was the first time she had seen so many people gathered together. She instinctively sensed a hint of danger and attempted to reach out for the square-bladed bone-chopping knife, but the boy held her hand tightly. As soon as the girl's face became visible, the noisy crowd fell into silence, even the proud expression on the blond warrior's face froze. Everyone's breathing seemed to echo clearly in the young man's ears, increasingly heavy. He sighed, lifted his head, and looked beyond the blond warrior. At the other end of the newly opened path, there stood a parked carriage. It was a four-horse carriage reminiscent of the eighteenth century in the old era. The black body was adorned with gold inlays, exuding an ancient and elegant charm. Polished copper lamps emitted a radiant glow. The carriage was pulled by four tall horses, all sharing the same pure white coat without any markings.
No one in town would recognize these horses as purebred, but it mattered little. Regardless of their breed, they were already an extravagant luxury far beyond the limits of imagination. Positioned at the front and back of the carriage were eight fully armed warriors, each wearing the same alloy armor as the blond youth. The difference was that the blond youth was unarmed, while the sixteen warriors were armed to the teeth, focused on firepower. Compared to the four heavy machine guns, the sheriff's Uzi seemed like a toy. Four attendants retrieved rolls of scarlet carpet from the rear of the carriage and laid them along the main road, starting from under the wagons and extending all the way to where the boy and the girl stood.
The room was a gruesome scene of blood and flesh. As the thick scarlet carpet was laid down, it immediately sank into the partially frozen blood. The attendants did not hesitate to stack the evidently expensive carpets one by one until the blood was five centimeters higher, ensuring that it would not flow onto the carpet. Once finished, they stopped.
Whether the four attendants were dressed in black tuxedos, white shirts, or neatly pressed bow ties, it was clear that they did not belong to this era. Even the decent people in town were little more than beggars of old. There was a conspicuous large hole in the sheriff's jeans, but because the hole was not on his buttocks, it was considered first-class attire symbolizing status. Due to the scarcity of water, the townspeople rarely bathed. In contrast, the boy observed the feet of these attendants. They gracefully stepped on the broken limbs, which gushed with blood, as light as butterflies. The muscles in their sagging limbs, usually evidence of weakness, only slightly drooped under the weight they carried. When they finished laying the carpet and exited the room, only a small amount of blood stained the soles of their shiny black leather shoes. Observing this, the boy's dark green pupils contracted slightly.
An elderly butler approached the carriage. He opened the door slowly and gracefully, then placed a snow-white kerchief on his arm and held it up flat. From inside the car, a hand emerged, elegant and delicate, like an orchid, resting on the butler's arm. On the middle finger of the hand, there was a deep sapphire ring the size of a quail egg that caught everyone's attention. The only thing that seemed slightly unsettling were the slender five-centimeter-long nails. They were impeccably shaped, but adorned with black and red patterns, sending shivers down people's spines.
Stepping out of the carriage was a woman dressed in antiquated medieval court attire. Her hair was intricately coiled and tied into a bun, adorned with a golden rosette headband. Appearing to be in her early twenties, she possessed light gray eyes typical of aristocratic indifference and skin so delicate that it seemed it could be blown away by the wind at any moment. From every angle, she exuded the utmost standards of classical beauty.
As soon as the woman emerged from the carriage, the residents of the town instantly forgot about their fallen neighbors lying at their feet. Most of them had never before seen such smooth and flawless skin, let alone witnessed the old-fashioned dress and jewelry that would spark jealousy in even the highest-ranking ladies. Everything about this woman seemed out of sync with the era, but more accurately put, it was extravagance beyond imagination. The excited crowd surged forward, step by step, driven by a collective courage. In this era, the line between man and beast had blurred.
Just as emotions were reaching their peak, a guard suddenly raised a heavy machine gun. Fiery streams of bullets burst forth from the muzzle, effortlessly tearing through the flesh before them and creating a gaping hole in the crowd. Only after the entire chain of ammunition had been expended did the guard lower his scorching hot weapon. His expression remained devoid of any emotion, as if he had merely shot a dozen animals rather than a dozen people. The crisp and cold sound of the guard changing the belt echoed in the ears of the townspeople. The sheriff swallowed hard, discreetly concealing his Uzi behind him.
The woman paid no attention to the massacre unfolding before her eyes. From the moment she alighted from the carriage, her gaze had been fixed on the girl. Gracefully, she extended her hand, pointing with her black and red fingertips, and uttered, "I want this girl." Her tone brooked no questions or objections. It was an order directed at both the boy and the butler. The butler bowed slightly and responded, "As you wish, madam." The boy understood that this was an order, leaving no room for negotiation. Since the woman had disembarked from the carriage, he had kept his head down, steadfastly avoiding eye contact. Yet, his body trembled uncontrollably, intensifying with each step the woman took toward him.
Using his arm as support, the elderly butler followed her every step, carefully avoiding the bloodstained carpet. Amidst the ruins, his leather shoes remained spotless, unlike those of the waiters, whose soles carried traces of the carnage. In fact, his every step seemed to hover just above the ground. The woman approached the boy, reaching out to pull the girl from behind him and position herself in front. Leaning forward slightly, she scrutinized the girl's exquisitely delicate face. After a long pause, she exhaled and complimented, "Such beautiful eyes." The girl had possessed an extraordinary beauty since birth, a beauty that only grew with age. Perhaps due to her youth, she did not understand fear. Instead, she gazed back at the woman with curiosity.
Throughout the entire encounter, the boy stood with his head bowed, unmoving, allowing the woman to separate him from the girl. Despite being wrapped in a thick blanket, he couldn't conceal the tremors wracking his body. The woman regarded the boy with surprise, nodding approvingly as she remarked, "It is me whom you fear, not my subordinates. Excellent! You are a clever boy, knowing what choice to make. What do you think I will offer you?" After a moment of silence, the boy responded, "If I am alive, she is yours. If I am dead, she is still yours." The woman's surprise grew, not because of the boy's answer, but because of his voice. Softening her tone, she inquired, "Tell me your name."
"William."
The boy hesitated for a moment before uttering a single word. He had to suppress the trembling in his body to maintain a steady voice. The woman smiled slightly and said, "Very well, William. My name is Eleanor. I am taking this girl with me, and you can no longer protect her. Only with me can she fully explore her talents. Remember my name. If one day you become strong enough, you may come seek me out. Now, show me your face." Leaning closer, she lifted the boy's chin with the long nail on her index finger. Their faces were less than ten centimeters apart, and the mysterious fragrance of her breath enveloped his entire being. Using two nails, she carefully removed the bandages obscuring his face. Although the bandages appeared dirty, they emitted no odor.
The black and red nails traced slowly across his skin. The elderly butler standing nearby lowered his head, his gaze fixed on the tips of his leather shoes. The guards all turned away, their backs facing the scene, their weapons aimed at the onlookers. The dark gun muzzles served as a stark reminder for the people of the town to not simply bow their heads, but to turn around if they wished to survive. In the midst of utter silence, the concept of time became distorted. It seemed like mere moments had passed, yet it also felt like an eternity.
At some point, Eleanor readjusted the boy's bandages, covering her mouth with a smile. She spoke, "I look forward to the day you come to find me!" With that, she led the girl toward the carriage. As she departed, her crisp, high-pitched, and enigmatic laughter reverberated through the bloodstained carpet. The girl shed no tears and offered no resistance. She continuously glanced back until the carriage door blocked her deep blue eyes.
From the carriage window, Eleanor suddenly drew back the curtain, partially revealing her classically beautiful face. She addressed the young man, saying, "In this era, the greatest challenge is to live with dignity. I hope you did not choose the worst path." Only after the four carriages had completely departed did the young man slowly raise his drooping head. At that moment, he remained unaware of the true significance behind the name Eleanor. He also did not comprehend the role the Spider Queen of the Blood Parliament played in this era.