Chapter 110: Gnawing

The Tianshan Mountains, usually defined by their biting winds and profound silence, were filled with a cacophony of sound on this day. It was a chorus of wailing and furious curses.

People from the surrounding villages and towns had climbed, breathless and exhausted, to the plateau near the summit, their eyes scanning the terrain. Although locals possessed a certain tolerance for high-altitude environments, they typically found even a few hundred meters of climbing on Tianshan an arduous task.

Yet, today was different.

Driven by a burning, righteous fury, they had ascended from the foot of the mountain. Facing the freezing snow and the howling gale, these men and women moved with tireless determination, conquering the heights.

"Xue'er! Xue'er!" a man shouted the name of his wife, who had gone missing two years ago. Even as his lips turned purple from the cold, he sprinted toward the summit.

"My child!" A woman, who usually spent her days preparing meals for her family, climbed the snowy mountain in her heavy down jacket.

Even an octogenarian, leaning on a cane and supported by two others, repeated his grandson's name with every trembling step as he ascended the mountain.

Under normal circumstances, even well-trained soldiers would find it difficult to climb this majestic, snow-capped peak in one go. It was a test of nature's raw power. But these ordinary citizens—people who spent their days buying groceries, cooking, and working—were now climbing with unwavering resolve. Neither the blizzard nor the bone-chilling wind could stop them. These were the footsteps of those seeking their loved ones.

The power displayed by these common people made even Tianshan tremble. This was the strength of the Daxia people—the power to protect one's own. They might be ordinary, even perceived as mediocre, but they never lacked this strength, nor this iron will.

"My child!"

Amidst the cries and angry roars, the villagers finally reached the plateau where the Yetis had been hiding. Looking across the platform, they saw blood staining the ground, scattered with the corpses of the terrifying beasts. White Yeti fur was matted with snow, and the marks of gunfire and artillery were everywhere. It was clear a brutal battle had taken place.

Nearby, a group of well-equipped soldiers was acting like madmen, tearing into the Yeti carcasses. They didn't even bother to cook them; they used their teeth to rip through flesh and snap bones, behaving like wild beasts themselves. Their blood-stained faces and deranged intensity sent a chill down the spines of the onlookers.

Situ Hong, dressed in her military uniform, stepped forward to meet the villagers who had arrived at the scene. Looking at her compatriots, whose eyes were bloodshot and bodies trembling, she said in a raspy voice, "You have come..."

"Officer, my... my daughter went missing two years ago... I heard..." A man looked at Situ Hong, his body shaking uncontrollably.

"Your loved ones... are all inside," Situ Hong sighed, looking at the villagers with profound sympathy as she pointed toward the dark, blasted-open cave. "I am sorry... we arrived too late."

As she spoke, cries of "Xue'er!", "Mom!", and "Brother!" erupted. The villagers, young and old, rushed toward the dark opening. Inside lay their children, their flesh and blood, their lovers, and their siblings.

When they saw the thick pile of gnawed bones and the "stored rations" that the Yetis hadn't yet consumed, the wailing became deafening.

"Xue'er, Xue'er! How... how could this happen?" A man knelt on the ground, picking up an exquisite necklace from among the remains, cradling it with trembling hands. The iron-willed man collapsed, his eyes streaming with tears. The fate of his lover was all too clear.

"Xiao Han, my child, wake up..." A woman in her sixties pushed feebly at a body in the corner that had not yet been touched. As if she had lost her mind, she held the corpse's hand and muttered, "Come home with Mom. I'll make your favorite lamb wontons..."

"Why are your hands so cold, Xiao Han? Listen to me, get up and come home with Mom."

The weeping echoed through the cave and out into the biting wind. This was the sound of Daxia's grief. For the people of Daxia, there was no greater pain than the loss of one's family.

The villagers searched the cave. Some were "lucky" enough to find their children among the remains that hadn't been eaten, but most could only weep silently over the piles of human bones that filled the cavern.

"They were all kidnapped by the Yetis," Situ Hong stood in the cave, her eyes stinging. Even for her, a veteran of countless battlefields who had grown hardened to the horrors of war, the scene brought tears to her eyes. This was a grief born of their shared bloodline—these victims were her own people.

"I am sorry!" Situ Hong bowed deeply, her voice trembling. "We were too late!"

The cave suddenly fell silent. The villagers, who had been sobbing over the remains of their families, turned toward the soldier. Suddenly, an old woman walked toward Situ Hong, followed by the others.

"Please, hit me!" Situ Hong shouted.

The old woman looked at the young officer and raised her hand. But instead of a blow, Situ Hong felt a warm, withered hand patting her shoulder. She looked up to see the old woman.

"Everyone says I've gone senile," the old woman said, her eyes red and her voice shaking. "But I know. I know Xiao Han is never coming back. Yet, I am not senile... you are good children. Thank you."

The old woman bowed. The men who had surrounded Situ Hong bowed with her. They bowed to Situ Hong, to the special forces soldiers who were still tearing at the Yeti carcasses like madmen, to the members of the God-Slaying Army, and to Lin Fan, who stood covered in blood.

Then, the old woman straightened up with difficulty and turned to look at the Yeti carcasses.

"I know it was these beasts who killed Xiao Han!" she cried. "These monsters are our true enemies!"

"Xiao Han, Mom is here to avenge you!"

Her gaze, sharp as a knife, locked onto the severed, fang-filled head of a Yeti. With the intensity of a mother lion seeking vengeance, the elderly woman lunged forward. She threw herself onto the ground and, like a feral beast, began to bite into the hideous, terrifying head of the creature. She would treat these Yetis exactly as they had treated her child.

It was no longer a question of good or evil. It was simply what a mother—what a grieving Daxia person—had to do.