newbobooks Chapter 633 The World's Landscape
Chapter 633 The World's Landscape
Chapter 633 The World's Landscape
"Gulp..."
From some unknown camp came a clear, distinct sound of someone forcefully swallowing saliva.
The burly man from Anvil City had a livid face, and his hand holding the binoculars trembled slightly. He felt as if he were facing not an army, but a mountain range made of pure will and steel that was slowly pressing down on him.
His unruly soldiers all instinctively shrank back behind their cover, not daring to even raise their heads.
The steel-masked man in the Holy Relic Fortress, the rage burning in his eyes was replaced by a deeper chill.
He felt an unprecedented threat, not from heretical beliefs, but from a purer, colder existence itself. He gripped the mace tightly, and cold sweat seeped from his palm.
The leader of the Gear Mafia stopped turning the golden gear in his hand. His sinister eyes were fixed on the armored command vehicles at the forefront of the army, which were clearly flagship-level vehicles, as if trying to penetrate the thick armor to see who was sitting inside.
His thought of "fishing in troubled waters" vanished instantly, leaving only a cold question:
What exactly does the Dragon Group... or rather, the entity behind the Dragon Group... want? Are they really after that elusive "miracle"?
The heavy creaking of tracks crushing the frozen ground, the deep roar of engines, and the chilling atmosphere that seemed to freeze the air reached their peak the moment the Dragon Army came to a precise stop outside the Sighing Pass.
They didn't go any closer, but stopped some distance from the pass.
But the silent tide of steel stopped advancing, which caused the air in the various camps outside the pass to completely explode.
"Stop...stopped..."
"What are they trying to do?!"
"Damn it! The cannons are still pointed at us!"
"Quick! Set up all the heavy machine guns! Now!"
The sounds of commotion were trembling with barely concealed emotion.
Panic spread like a plague. Behind the makeshift shelters, countless pairs of bloodshot eyes, filled with fear, stared intently at the cold, steel army formation.
Inside the leaders' tents, a suffocating atmosphere permeated an eerie calm. They knew perfectly well that the little power they had brought was as fragile as a paper boat in a storm before the Dragon Group's all-out, heavily armed steel torrent.
Once the fighting starts, this place will instantly become a real meat grinder. Nobody wants to die, especially with a new era on the horizon.
Just when this chaos, suspicion, and fear were about to break through the critical point.
The steel forest of troops slowly opened a gap, as if parting the tide.
A group of people walked out from there.
About a dozen people, dressed in the Dragon Group's signature dark gray combat uniforms, moved in unison with steady steps, surrounding one person at the core.
He was a young man.
He stood tall and walked with a composed gait. He wore the same standard combat uniform, but it was exceptionally clean, as if it had just been ironed. He also had a long black robe draped over his shoulders.
In this environment filled with mud, oil stains, and radioactive dust, he stood out conspicuously clean. His face lacked the weathered lines, hideous scars, or despairing numbness commonly seen on wasteland dwellers; instead, it carried an almost refined calmness.
When his face became clearly visible through binoculars or from lookout posts, a chorus of suppressed surprise and gasps of astonishment erupted from each camp.
"Fang Xin! It's Fang Xin from the Dragon Group!"
"It really is him! So young?!"
This cleanliness is the biggest anomaly in the wasteland, and also the deepest deterrent.
Here, everyone who survives and gains power has hands stained with blood and mud, and faces marked with struggle and ruthlessness.
Fang Xin's clean appearance suggests that he is either a useless person hiding in a fortress who has never experienced hardship, but that is obviously impossible. The fact that the Dragon Group can establish itself in the wasteland is proof of this. Or... it means that he has the power and protection behind him that is strong enough to keep him away from the bloody struggles at the bottom of the wasteland.
This realization sent an even deeper chill through the hearts of those leaders who had previously harbored a sliver of contempt or wishful thinking.
Under the protection of an elite squad, Fang Xin walked steadily to the center of the open space outside the pass, which was surrounded by camps of various forces and resembled the core of a powder keg.
He stopped and calmly surveyed the simple tents and bunkers around him, as well as the countless pairs of eyes behind them, some fierce, some surprised, and some fearful.
Without a megaphone, his voice clearly pierced through the frozen air, carrying an undeniable penetrating power.
"The Rockbreaker Chief of Anvil City, the Steelheart Patriarch of Holy Relic Keep, Mr. Trigger of the Gear Mafia, and all my friends whose names are known throughout the wasteland."
He accurately pointed out the names or nicknames of several of the most powerful leaders, speaking in a calm tone as if he were calling out names, yet the hearts of those whose names were called jumped.
"I believe you know who I am. The Dragon Group is here today only for the depths of Forgotten Valley." Fang Xin cut to the chase, without any pleasantries. "There is someone of vital importance to us inside. My purpose is simple: I have been entrusted to find her and take her away. That's all."
His gaze swept across the desolate camp before him, his voice remaining calm, yet carrying an invisible weight.
"I know why you've gathered here—the traces of the gods of the era," he said, shaking his head slightly. "That's nothing but a tempting yet dangerous illusion." "The Dragon Group has no interest in that. Believe it or not, our goal here has nothing to do with the 'miracle' you're vying for."
He took a step forward, and although he was alone, he seemed to carry the boundless pressure of the silent steel army behind him.
"Now, you all have only two paths before you."
Fang Xin's voice suddenly turned cold, like a frozen blade.
"First, clear the way. The Dragon Group will enter the canyon, complete their objective, and then immediately withdraw. After that, you can continue your treasure hunt. We will not interfere with each other."
He paused, then continued.
"Secondly, you're blocking the way..."
The surrounding air temperature seemed to drop by ten degrees.
A cold, nakedly murderous shadow, like an invisible tide, instantly spread from the guards behind Fang Xin. This power was not as vast as the sea, but it was extremely pure and extremely deadly, like the fangs of a venomous snake pressed against his throat.
Meanwhile, in the distant steel army formation, countless cannons and gun barrels seemed to adjust their angles almost imperceptibly, and the roar of the engines seemed to lower for a moment, like a giant beast holding its breath before launching an attack.
Although slight, it was enough to make any perceptive leader instantly feel their hair stand on end and their heart almost stop beating.
Fang Xin seemed completely unaware of the terrifying aura erupting behind him; he simply continued speaking calmly.
"Then, the Dragon Group will choose to clear the obstacles, using you all... and everyone in these camps behind you as the price for forcibly passing through."
The word "cost" fell like a cold death knell tolling in everyone's heart.
The area around the Sighing Pass was so quiet you could hear the dust settling down.
Everyone understood the undisguised cruel reality in Fang Xin's words; this was not a threat, but an ultimatum.
Fang Xin stood in the center of the open space. His young and clean face, under the dim light of the wasteland, exuded an invisible pressure that felt like a heavy mountain, making it almost impossible for the usually arrogant wasteland people to breathe.
After a few minutes, some faint sounds began to emerge from the deathly silent camp.
Immediately afterwards, a commotion arose in the camps of several major forces. Looking in the direction of the noise, several figures dressed completely differently from ordinary people emerged.
Scarface shifted his gaze slightly, looking at Mr. Trigger, Steelheart, and the others who were walking out of the camp like him not far away, and a cold smile flashed across his face.
In the past, his first instinct upon seeing those people would have been to pull out his weapon and start a fight. But now, facing Fang Xin, who posed a greater threat, they tacitly stood together.
Or rather, they had no choice but to stand together.
"Just you wait and see..."
Scarface murmured softly, as if speaking to the woman behind him, or perhaps talking to himself.
The world order is about to change...
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