Volume One: The Long Wind Rises, Youthful Days

Chapter One: The Madman

　　"Finally, we've arrived at Changfeng City."

　　Seeing the sprawling giant city ahead, with its ancient city walls, Henry Clark was truly moved to tears.

　　He had been in this world for half a month now, fleeing with the army of refugees for just as long. During this time, he had faced death multiple times, surviving by the narrowest of margins.

　　For example, once, in order to snatch a few wild vegetables, he was nearly beaten to death by other refugees.

　　He couldn't help but sigh—he must be one of the unluckiest transmigrators ever.

　　That's right, he originally came from Earth, a struggling web novelist who worked by day and wrote at night. Perhaps from exhaustion, one night he fell asleep while writing, and when he awoke, his soul had transmigrated into a boy with the same name in another world.

　　The original owner's hometown had suffered a natural disaster—scorched earth for thousands of miles, plants withered, not a single grain harvested, not even tree bark or wild vegetables left to eat. If they didn't leave, they would starve to death, so they had no choice but to migrate to another city.

　　The original owner fled with his parents, but fell gravely ill on the way and died. Henry Clark happened to take over his body, inheriting most of his memories, which was the only reason he hadn't been exposed during this time.

　　"I wonder if the noble clans of Changfeng City will take us in?"

　　The speaker was an old man everyone called Mr. Foster. His skin was dark and cracked, his hair completely white, and he was so thin that only skin and bones remained. Though only about fifty, he looked older than a seventy-year-old on Earth.

　　His voice was thick with worry, his eyes full of confusion and helplessness about the future.

　　"Hard to say."

　　The one who replied was Henry Clark's father, William Clark.

　　William Clark was about thirty-five, with a square face. As a hunter, he had spent years hunting, and though he had been fleeing for thousands of miles, braving the elements, his body was still relatively strong.

　　At least, compared to the other refugees.

　　Henry Clark looked around. All around him were masses of refugees—he estimated there were no less than ten thousand.

　　An indescribable stench hung in the air, nauseating, but Henry Clark had already gotten used to it.

　　The refugees stared blankly at the city ahead, awaiting the judgment of fate.

　　It was common for refugees to be refused entry. Some noble clans not only refused them, but also sent soldiers to drive them away. If they resisted, beheading was not unusual.

　　If the noble clans of Changfeng City refused them, they would have to flee again to the next city.

　　But with their dwindling food supplies and poor health, most would die on the road before reaching the next city.

　　Rumble!

　　Suddenly, the ground trembled slightly, and a thunderous sound came from Changfeng City.

　　The sound grew closer in an instant, and the crowd saw that it was a cavalry unit—only about a hundred riders, but as they galloped, their momentum was overwhelming, like an army of thousands.

　　"It's the noble clan's military force."

　　Someone shouted, and everyone's hearts leapt. Would they be accepted or refused? The answer would soon be clear, and it would determine their fate.

　　Neigh...

　　The cavalry stopped ahead, perfectly aligned, not a hint of disorder—clearly well-trained.

　　"The horses are like dragons, the riders like bears—what a terrifying presence."

　　Henry Clark looked on curiously, secretly amazed.

　　The warhorses stood over two meters tall at the shoulder, and the riders atop them wore crimson iron armor, wielded long spears, and were burly and strong, like giant bears.

　　Henry Clark roughly judged that all these cavalrymen were over 1.9 meters tall, a stark contrast to the refugees.

　　He met the eyes of one cavalryman, and Henry Clark's hair stood on end, his heart racing. He felt as if he were being stared at by a ferocious beast.

　　In his previous life, he had once come face to face with a Siberian tiger at the zoo, but even that tiger hadn't made him feel as threatened as this cavalryman did.

　　Henry Clark quickly lowered his head, not daring to meet his gaze.

　　At this moment, a middle-aged cavalryman rode forward, his eyes sharp and predatory, and said, "By order of the clan head, all refugees who have come here are now subjects of the Liu clan. In a moment, porridge will be distributed, and your accommodations will be arranged afterward."

　　What?

　　The ten thousand refugees were stunned at first, then erupted in joy, their faces lighting up with excitement.

　　Not only were they not refused, but porridge would be distributed and accommodations assigned—they were saved.

　　Soon after, large wooden barrels were rolled over from the direction of the city, the aroma of porridge wafting through the air, making Henry Clark's stomach growl uncontrollably.

　　"Porridge distribution begins now! Everyone line up to receive your porridge. Anyone who tries to cut in line will be executed without mercy!"

　　A cavalryman shouted, his voice booming like a bell, carrying for miles—everyone could hear him clearly.