Through these messages, Edward Carter finally understood where his glorious Great Tang had gone. His glorious Great Tang had already been frozen in the river of history, never to return.

The dead, once dead, are truly gone, never to come back to life...

A black line appeared on the horizon—that was Edward Carter’s destination for this journey: Shuofang City.

Even though he knew that obtaining the imperial dragon aura of Shuofang City could never bring the dead back to life, Edward Carter still decided to launch an attack on this target city. After all, this was the dying wish of all his brothers. They believed that Edward Carter could break through Shuofang City, seize the imperial dragon aura, and rescue them from the darkest depths of hell.

“Kill—!” Edward Carter mounted his horse, raised his lance, and pointed it toward the distant Shuofang City.

A cluster of tumbleweeds seemed to suddenly surge out from hell, bouncing and stopping in front of Edward Carter’s horse. Wangcai did not move, and Edward Carter’s lance did not sweep away these obstructing things.

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Extra: Dragon Totem, The Age of Great Strife (Part 2) [Qidian Exclusive Extra]

Where there are tumbleweeds, there will soon be sandstorms...

Edward Carter pulled up the cloth hanging from his chin to cover his mouth and nose.

Sure enough, a gust of wind carrying sand and dust rushed toward him. Edward Carter tightened his cloak and urged Wangcai forward.

The wind lifted Edward Carter’s long red cloak. Even though his cloak was already soaked with blood, the wind still billowed it, revealing his body, already riddled with wounds.

Wangcai trudged on alone. Edward Carter sat on horseback with his head lowered, doing his best to steady himself.

The wind grew stronger, and the tumbleweeds driven by the wind became denser. Just as a huge mass of tumbleweed was about to sweep past Edward Carter, he suddenly opened his eyes. His lance flashed like lightning—one thrust, one flick, and a short, stout body was dragged out from the tumbleweed by him. Before the body could hit the ground, Edward Carter swung his lance again, slicing it in two at the neck.

Foul blood was flung far away by the wind, with a few drops splattering onto Edward Carter’s dust-covered face. He did not wipe the blood away—there was no need. His face had already been stained with too much blood.

He stopped his warhorse. Wangcai snorted, uneasily pawing at the ground.

Edward Carter reined in his horse, raised his weapon, and shouted in the direction the wind was coming from: “Grandpa Edward Carter is here! Who dares to come and die?”

“Edward Carter, how much longer can you hold on? Leave the imperial dragon aura of Great Tang you’ve collected, and I can give you an intact corpse.” A voice came with the cold wind, making it sound even more chilling.

“Who are you? Why do you want to harm me? Who are you?” Edward Carter urged his warhorse forward, slowly approaching the source of the voice.

“Edward Carter, hand over the imperial dragon aura of Chang’an and Luoyang, or you will see the head of Samuel Clark.”

Edward Carter was furious and spurred Wangcai into a wild gallop. He had already determined the direction of the voice. As long as he cut through these annoying tumbleweeds, he could strike down the villain beneath his horse.

His lance danced up and down, shredding the oncoming tumbleweeds into powder. Moments later, his vision cleared, and before him was still a vast, desolate wasteland.

Only, on a suddenly jutting stone pillar, there was a human head placed—it was Samuel Clark.

Samuel Clark’s head had just been severed, the blood still steaming. His head was not yet dead, desperately blinking at Edward Carter. After so many years as brothers, how could Edward Carter not understand what Samuel Clark wanted to say?

“I will not run!” Edward Carter lifted Samuel Clark’s head with one hand, holding it tightly to his chest. Then, with a wolf-like howl, he continued forward.

As long as he broke through Shuofang City ahead, he could gather enough imperial dragon aura. Then, Henry Benson, who died in the Battle of Chang’an, would come back to life; John Thompson, who died at Hulao Pass, would come back to life; David Thompson, who died in Luoyang, would come back to life... All the brothers who died would come back to life.

Wangcai trampled across the wasteland, crushing wild grass and several freshly emerged human heads underfoot.

Ahead, crossbow bolts rained down, spears flew like a forest from the left, and stones hurled from above like locusts. Edward Carter carried an iron shield on his back, his lance whirling, smashing aside the crossbow bolts, knocking away the spears, and shattering the flying stones.

He fought desperately without retreat, struggling forward. He knew there were no enemies to his right or behind, but those two directions were his true deathtraps.

Though it was only a moment, to Edward Carter it felt as long as a lifetime.

With the harassment of crossbow bolts, spears, and stones gone, Edward Carter’s vision suddenly cleared, and the pitch-black Shuofang City, crouched on the wasteland like a fierce tiger, finally appeared before him.

Andrew Jackson looked down at the head of Samuel Clark hanging on his chest. Two crossbow bolts were stuck in the head—one in the forehead, one in the face. Pulling out the bolts, he cradled Samuel Clark’s head, overcome with grief. Even in death, he would protect his brother.

Behind him, corpses were strewn everywhere. Edward Carter lifted a head with his lance, letting the blood pour down the shaft. He greedily licked the blood from the lance, moistening his parched lips. Placing Samuel Clark’s head at the highest point, he laughed loudly: “Brother, with so many people buried with you, do you feel comforted?”

At that moment, the once-angry eyes of Samuel Clark slowly closed.

A large-horned wild ox slowly walked out from Shuofang City, and on its broad back sat a young man wrapped in a fur coat.