Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life

Chapter 413: Corpse Marionette Cavalry

Su Ming's alertness shot up to maximum in an instant.

He didn't walk over directly. Instead, he first carefully extended his divine sense to survey the area, confirming there were no ambushes nearby before retrieving a hard, dry flatbread from the hidden compartment in the carriage.

He walked up to the old soldier and handed the flatbread over.

The old soldier's hollow gaze shifted with difficulty, landing on the piece of flatbread.

He was stunned for a moment, as if unable to believe that in this world where men devoured men, someone would still share food with a cripple on the verge of death.

The next second, the instinct to survive conquered everything.

The old soldier's remaining right hand lunged for the flatbread, not even bothering to wipe off the dust before shoving it into his mouth and biting down fiercely.

The rough, coarse flatbread scraped a trail of bloody rawness down his parched throat, yet he swallowed desperately, his eyes rolling back as he choked.

Su Ming casually handed him a waterskin.

The old soldier downed half the skin, finally managing to force the bite down. He gasped heavily, and the deathly grey of his face finally showed a glimmer of life."Thank you... little brother." The old soldier's voice was as hoarse as two pieces of sandpaper grinding together.

Seizing the moment, Su Ming sat down on a broken stone two steps away from the old soldier and asked calmly, "Were you a soldier in the Great Xing army? With those injuries, were you pulled back from the northern front lines?"

Hearing the words "northern front lines," the old soldier's body gave a violent jolt.

The trace of vitality that had just returned to his eyes was instantly swallowed by an indescribable, utterly hopeless terror.

"The front lines... That's not the front lines... That's hell..."

The old soldier gripped the half-eaten flatbread so tightly his knuckles went white.

"Those iron cavalry of the Northern Barbarians... They aren't even human!"

old soldier's breathing grew rapid, his voice trembling

weird red scribbles! Our blades couldn't even break their skin! Our arrows shot into their eye sockets, and they didn't even

and arrows... Feeling no fatigue...

spoke, the more agitated he became, as if he had returned to that

Several old priests with white beards, they could breathe fire and summon thunder. We watched from

soldier swallowed hard, his terror reaching

them from their

covered his face, weeping in

Ming listened quietly, his expression growing

old soldier's account,

up and walked back to the carriage, pretending to adjust the harness while

provided four key pieces of

and arrows, feeling no

But if it were the power of a "formation," it would make perfect sense—by inscribing a variant of the "Solidify" rune onto the cavalry, their defense could be boosted several times over. However, this type of formation line required continuous consumption of

Ming's pupils

weren't "living people" at

Second: "The red scribbles."

energy flow in those runes was always a dark blue or light gold. Red... that was a sign of

discarded archives in the Repair Hall, he had once stumbled upon a dusty case file—a fragment of *Records of Southern Border Wonders: Chapter on Evil Entities*. It recorded a lost heretical art: carving runes onto the skin of living people and then using a secret method to nourish them with human blood. This could unleash power far exceeding ordinary runes, but

the

low in cultivation and had crude techniques, they were still cultivators. For a group of mortal cavalry to kill a cultivator,

numerous enough to bury the cultivator in a sea of

cavalry

Foundation

importantly—the old

was truly unstoppable, why would a one-armed old soldier

Northern Barbarians deliberately let him go

Or...

he had discovered while studying the nearly broken formations at Iron Wall Pass: the more powerful a

iron cavalry had to return to a fixed location at regular intervals for its controller