Two corpse soldiers who had been ordered to collect bodies from the battlefield had already returned, carrying seven or eight military sabers, two spears and halberds, and about a dozen sets of armor. Remarkably, they had also found some gold and silver ingots.

Grace Walker reached out and lifted the long spear of the red-robed general. After thinking for a moment, he decided to put this weapon, along with all the arms and armor collected by the corpse soldiers, back onto the refined copper war chariot. He then resealed the Fire Dragon Chariot into a copper ruler and tucked it into his clothes.

The red-robed general was certainly a famous general of the Great Qian Dynasty. Who knew how many people would recognize his belongings? If he got into trouble because of this, what could Grace Walker do but curse his own stupidity? So, he only kept a shorter saber and fastened it to his waist. He took all the gold and silver ingots for convenience.

“Bing, Ding, Wu, you go dig a pit and bury this boss.”

After giving orders to the four corpse soldiers, Grace Walker went to the small beast with a leopard’s head and a rabbit’s body and cut it into pieces with his saber.

Corpse Soldier Yi finally succeeded, managing to spark a fire and build a campfire. Corpse Soldier Jia also gathered a large pile of firewood. Grace Walker skewered a piece of meat and roasted it over the fire.

These past few days, he had been eating irregularly, grabbing whatever he could to fill his stomach, so he was no longer picky about taste. His cooking skills were poor, and after a long effort, the meat was still half-raw and flavorless without any seasoning. He gnawed down a few chunks, felt his stomach was full, then kicked out the fire, wiped the grease from his hands on his clothes, and turned to leave the woods.

What he wanted most now was to quickly find a relatively stable city, free from war, and settle down for a good life.

As Grace Walker's figure gradually faded into the distance, a soft sigh sounded from within the forest.

“What is this aura about this child that even I cannot quite figure out?”

Grace Walker never realized that from the start of the great battle, to the death of the red-robed general, to obtaining the Fire Dragon Chariot, everything had been watched by someone...

“What a spectacular fire this is!”

After wandering around like a headless fly all day, Grace Walker felt his luck was finally turning. He actually saw the first city since arriving in this world. Even though it was just a small county town, he was still quite excited.

Although the wisps of smoke drifting from the small city made him lower his expectations of seeing any living people, he still walked in cheerfully.

The county town’s gate had been blasted to pieces, with half a door panel hanging by the entrance, looking rather desolate. As soon as he stepped inside, Grace Walker once again saw the corpses and remains he had become numb to lately. Suppressing his discomfort, Grace Walker cursed loudly, “Do these people kill each other all day just to show off their martial skills? Don’t they know to leave some survivors so there’s something to loot next time...”

The small city wasn’t large, with only one main street. Grace Walker searched every house but found nothing of value. Clearly, the army that burned the city was very thorough—truly, not a blade of grass left, not even a chicken or dog survived.

It was one thing for the men to be dead, but some of the women had clearly suffered terrible abuse before dying.

Passing through the city, Grace Walker had no intention of lingering. The five corpse soldiers behind him staggered along, following closely without complaint.

He looked up at the sky, feeling disappointed, when suddenly the sound of a winch turning reached his ears. Overjoyed, Grace Walker leapt seven or eight meters into the air, grabbed the city wall, and looked out. In the distance, a group of over a hundred refugees was pushing carts and carrying bundles, heading toward the city.

“My luck has finally turned—I’ve finally seen living people!”

Tears streamed down Grace Walker's face. He completely forgot that he had already seen a large group of living people before—only, that village had been slaughtered by marauding soldiers moments later.

Chapter Eight: The World Is Vast, Where Is Home?

This group of refugees, seeing their homeland in sight, felt a glimmer of hope despite the city still burning and the devastation all around.

Grace Walker hid the five corpse soldiers well and stood eagerly at the city gate, his only hope being to find someone to talk to.

“I’ve seen so many dead people lately, I’m about to go insane. My real profession is an artist, I used to paint nude beauties, not some unlucky surgeon dissecting organs. Among this group... there doesn’t seem to be a single woman who’d score over eighty points in looks!”

That he could still be disappointed about this at such a time could only be called extraordinary.

Grace Walker was no country bumpkin from an isolated ancient society. With all the modern information he’d absorbed, his eye for people was top-notch. Among the refugees, a man in a coarse blue robe with loose hair and a scholarly air was clearly the leader.

He was just thinking about how to approach them when suddenly a middle-aged woman, as if struck by an invisible whip, screamed and rushed over. She threw her arms around Grace Walker and burst into tears.

“My son! I knew you weren’t dead...”

“Hey, hey! I’m not sure if I’m your son, but if you keep smothering me like this, I’ll definitely die a second time...”