Chapter 77: Echoes of the Fallen

“Lord Ye Lin, aren’t we leaving yet?”

He called out loudly.

At the rear defense line, the Chen Siblings, keeping their distance, stared in puzzled silence at Yenir at the front.

He couldn’t understand why, after asking the question, Yenir made no move to leave.

The soldier phantoms were on the verge of disappearing.

In just a few minutes after the appearance of the Third-Stage Mutant, the phantoms would be completely gone. By then, escape would be impossible.

Standing beneath the city, Yenir merely chuckled softly as he listened to the urgings behind him.

He watched in silence as bodies, smashed by mutants, tumbled from the City Wall, while each harrowing blast of the charge horn deepened the melancholy spreading in his heart.

Leave?

Leave? What do you mean by leave!?

He already knew how the mission would be resolved and understood exactly what was unfolding.

mA RANZ! Ma Ranz! Ma Ranz!!

Recalling a map he had once seen, Yenir’s expression turned bitter as he quickly pieced together a piece of history.

Guangxi… and the new recruits who struggled to understand.

If he wasn’t mistaken, in the second year after the apocalypse, the Linjiang Battle Zone recruited a batch of new soldiers from the Guangxi Zhuang Autonomous Region to hold the line.

After only a brief period of training, these recruits were rushed here to construct defensive works.

At first, it seemed manageable—the Military believed they could halt the northbound undead horde, so they dispatched troops and awakened fighters to snipe it.

But three days later came the grim news. The first unit sent to take down the horde had failed, and reconnaissance revealed that the horde’s numbers far exceeded all expectations—complete with an unstoppable Third-Stage Mutant!

Consequently, after reallocating some artillery units and a few awakened fighters, the Military immediately launched an escape plan to evacuate the rear survivors as quickly as possible!

Meanwhile, the soldiers at the front line remained oblivious, still fixated on holding their position.

Yet amidst the unmistakable tension, many front-line commanders began to suspect the truth.

But…

There was no turning back… their homes lay just behind them.

At the subtle hint of the company commander and the doomed officers, the battalion scribes were ordered to have the soldiers send one final letter home, a meager solace for their guilty hearts.

Soon, the undead horde descended. Realizing once again that they could never withstand it, every frontline warrior—from squad leaders to commanders—chose to sacrifice themselves, delaying the inevitable as long as they could. Even the noncombatant scribes, who had fled on instinct, watched in horror as their comrades fell one by one.

Overwhelmed by grief, even the man who had once feared death abandoned his escape, resolved to record their final words in those last moments.

But…

It wasn’t over yet!

Taking a deep breath, Yenir looked on with a complex mix of emotion as he observed the soldiers marching to their doom.

According to Chen Yong’s account, his grandfather was among the survivors in the rear.

For decades afterward, his grandfather lived in the nearby battle zone and eventually rose to become a regional commander.

This meant that, in fact, the undead horde had been stopped that day.

The reason was simple. The emergence of the Third-Stage Mutant had accelerated the collapse of the defenses beyond anyone’s expectations—the information on the letter made it clear there wasn’t enough time to retreat! Thus, the horde must have vanished! It never even breached the Safe Zone!

Otherwise, with the horde’s rapid spread, hardly any survivors could have escaped the rear!

But… the undead horde doesn’t just disappear! Where are they?!

The answer was clear.

The unwavering resolve and faith of thousands of fallen soldiers transformed in their final moments into a unique phenomenon that forever trapped the horde and the mutants within this space.

Much like vengeful spirits in a ghost story, countless souls determined to protect their homelands were transformed in that very instant.

They became undying heroic spirits, eternally guarding this place.

He clenched his fists tightly.

Gazing at the projection of a Third-Stage Mutant beginning to materialize in the distance,

a whirlwind of emotions surged within Yenir.

Had it ended there, he wouldn’t have even felt a flicker of murderous intent when he questioned Chen Yong earlier.

If it were to end like that, this would simply be a forgotten chapter of history—a moving legend.

But…

The truth was far more complex!

After these heroic spirits trapped the undead horde within this space, the Military—or perhaps another great power—discovered the secret of this place, whether by accident or design.

All it took was someone shouting, “mA RANZ! Ma Ranz! Ma Ranz!!”

And those once-resting heroic spirits would reappear to help eliminate the enemies within the space, all in the pursuit of resources!

Driven by greed or other motives, those who had tasted success began to exploit this phenomenon without restraint.

Ten times, a hundred times, even a thousand…

They used this method to continually amass equipment and resources, all while helplessly watching these soldiers die over and over again!

Yenir was even convinced that someone had grasped the unique nature of this place—the reason why these soldiers kept reappearing.

The answer was simple.

As long as the final Third-Stage Mutant remained alive, this space would persist forever. Those warriors, whose only devotion was to the protection of their homeland, must have had one final resolve in their dying moments—to kill that mutant and prevent these monsters from destroying their home!

Yet…

Realizing this, all the informed Third-Stage Mutants quietly agreed. For the sake of preserving this space and ensuring a constant flow of resources, not one of them would act. None were willing to release the souls trapped there.

If nothing went awry, that cry of “mA RANZ… Ma Ranz” was understood in the Zhuang language as a call to “Return Home…”

After this shout, the heroic spirits would mistakenly believe someone was coming to guide them home—only to face perpetual death and exploitation.

That is why each can only be awakened once.

Ultimately.

In an endless cycle, these soldiers repeatedly reenacted history, dying over and over until they finally formed what became known as the Ruins Battlefield. Even the promises made to them transformed into the deceit of a false homecoming!

It felt as if their hearts were constricted.

An indescribable rage filled his chest.

Yenir drew a deep breath and bent down to scoop a handful of soil from beneath his feet.

Every patch of earth here was stained with blood that should never have been spilled.

He lifted his head, watching from afar as the ever-observant phantom of a monster fixed its gaze on him.

Slowly, he released the soil, and the biting cold wind carried it away behind him, scattering it into the air.

….

“This time.”

“I’ll take you home.”