Armed Train in the Apocalypse

The nights near the Eternal Night Zone are exceptionally long, with not a single star in sight, only the relentless wind and snow, like a dull knife, scraping against the earthbound figures. Snow particles patter onto him, as if persuading him to stop.

He doesn’t walk quickly, but he keeps going, with each step sinking a half-foot deep into the snow, leaving dark holes which are soon swept smooth by the wind.

His black hair, like a disheveled cloak, obscures the nearly transparent wounds on his back. The intermittent energy patterns dim to near invisibility, occasionally flickering with white flames. Sometimes, demon horns and faces try to emerge from the wounds, but the man presses them back with his palm.

The demon mark on his right hand absorbs the sealed demon within his body while giving him impure life energy. Yet before it can heal the wounds, he uses it to repair the ”energy circulation” instead.

The body is merely a vessel for the energy pathways, which in truth do not overlap. It can bypass the flesh first.

Only by maintaining proper energy circulation can he use his domain to suppress the four high-tier demons within him. As a result, the passive skills derived from the rules are temporarily ineffective, unable to use energy torrents to speed up travel. Su Huan has no choice but to walk step by step.

The battle is not over. If it were just one high-tier demon, he could grind it down slowly. But facing four, he can only seal and carry them away, as the battlefield is too close to the Armed Train—far too close.

If the four demons turn against the train, He Jie and the others will have no power to fight back.

Before the battle, Su Huan had thought about where these formless entities could be completely confined.

And after a long walk, his answer now appeared before him.

—Step into the Eternal Night.

The snow remains thick on the ground, and with his eyesight, he can catch no trace of light here.

Su Huan stops, a long exhale streaming out like a white dragon, traversing more than two meters against the wind and snow, freezing into ice crystals that fall gently.

Yet in his perception, the whole world remains bright as day, and at a position a hundred meters behind, there’s another persistent silhouette.

Letting the wind and snow flutter the cloak, the youth stands steadily in place, his black eyes fixed on Su Huan.

(Twelve-year-old Xiaoba, first meeting the conductor [past])

(Fourteen-year-old Xiaoba, bidding farewell to the conductor [present])

(Eighteen-year-old Xiaoba, reuniting with the conductor [future])

”Su, you said you would take us with you.”

Upon hearing Xiaoba’s voice, Su Huan sighs inwardly and turns around.

A year of battles and frost has made the youth’s features sharper, yet his wrists and ankles still reveal the child beneath, though the eyes under his tousled hair are so earnest, none can take them lightly.

”You can’t seal us!”

A distorted voice emerges at Su Huan’s back; a sharp hand grows from his shoulder, another shoulder has half a head trying to push through.

”Noisy.”

Su Huan coldly rebukes, wiping with his right hand, the mark on it snarls at the protruding limbs. Amidst wailing, the conductor returns to human form again, but it’s only temporary. He’s unsure how long he can seal these entities, given they’re inherently Tier Four in rule mastery, not surpassing them by a tier.

But upon seeing Xiaoba, a hint of apology still rises in Su Huan’s heart.

He was the one who brought Xiaoba aboard, and promised to lead them northward, together seeking the truth of the apocalypse.

But now... he had changed his mind.

”You’ve violated your principle.”

The dean’s figure appears beside Su Huan, eyes squinting with an oppressive presence.

Su Huan uneasily turns his head, ”What principle, isn’t breaking my word part of my nature? One who argues with his own memories daily, can he still be a good person?”

”In mom’s heart, my son is the kindest child.”

A cold hand rests on Su Huan’s shoulder, a woman with slightly graying temples carries a loving gaze, ”See, so many people trust you.”

The sky, dark as pitch, suddenly brightens; Lin Jin, winged, descends from the sky, with pallid Qu Hang close behind.

Then follows the panting He Jie, Mountain Goat, and Mongoose.

The worried faces of Tong Zizhan, Gao Yuan.

One by one, gray-green figures stand tall amid the snowstorm, lighting up this night where hands cannot be seen.

The woman silently withdraws, returning to the glasses-wearing man’s side, bowing her head to wipe her tears.

The man asks her with concern, ”He has someone who cares for him now, isn’t that good? Why tears again?”

The woman whispers as she sobs, ”I’m happy too. He no longer needs us.”

With more figures appearing on the snowfield, Su Huan notices the forms of his parents and the dean growing ever more thin, nearly swept away by wind and snow.

On this journey, he’s seen suspicion, doubt, resentment, vendetta... But he’s also seen the persistence of the elderly, the zeal of youth, the yearning of women, and finally, those previously misunderstood lines and entanglements became clear on him.

Yu Yue, Yu Jing, Shu Wei, He Jie, Professor Ma...

He’s all alone from north to south, yet upon returning, there’s already a crowd with him.

Because he never had it, he fears losing it more than anyone.

When the Armed Corps show up, Su Huan instead completely severed his retreat within.

Facing the crowd’s confusion, tension, or sorrow, Su Huan smiled brightly, ”Plans have changed; I’ll go in first. I’m counting on you for what’s next—He Jie, take good care of them, wait until I’m back to promote you to general.”