“Mister Baxter may have accepted you, but you better not try anything, or you might come to regret it,” the squad leader said to Ning Shan, his rifle still firmly in his hand, yet wasn’t aimed at him anymore.

  He motioned for Ning Shan and Sera to move forward while he and his subordinate fell behind them. Ning Shan could clearly see the resentment in the other man’s eyes. The man’s finger hovered over the trigger while the muzzle of his weapon was but a breath away from being pointed at him.

  “Aren’t you professionals? Shouldn’t you be used to death by now?” Ning Shan asked, unconcerned by the threat to his life.

  On the other hand, Sera couldn't help but take a step to the side, distancing herself from him as she couldn't believe how he could be so brazen in this tense situation.

  "Stand down," the leader said, putting his hand on his subordinate's shoulder. "They knew the risks when they enlisted. Mr. Baxter may be an understanding man, but you know full well what happens to those who go against his wishes."

  The man gritted his teeth while fury smouldered in his eyes for a moment longer before he took a deep breath, letting the rage flow away. While the threat had been neutralized for the time being, Ning Shan did notice that the man’s finger still hovered over the trigger.

  Sooner or later, I’ll have to deal with it.

  Ning Shan's eyes showed a slight light which couldn't help but unnerve Sera. She shivered at the sight, but fortunately, Ning Shan's look was hidden from the two men. She could practically feel the killing intent hanging in the air. She sought to break the ice if only to defuse the situation.

  "Marquez!" She exclaimed much louder than anticipated, only for the squad leader to turn his attention to her. She was briefly stunned by her own actions and nervousness before biting her lips. She could only trudge on through. "Now that we're allies, why don't we exchange information? You said you came here for my former squad, but is that really the case? Considering your association with Lightforge Industries, I doubt they would loan you such firepower only to deal with a red-class hunter squad. What are you truly here for?"

  She held her breath, awaiting a response. Even Ning Shan remained silent, slightly interested in the answer. Marquez frowned as she looked at her. His glare pierced her back, yet she did her best to resist the urge to run away. Somehow, all she wanted to do was to hide behind Ning Shan, yet she clenched her small fists and held her ground. The answer to this question would determine their path forward.

  “Dealing with those guys was just a bonus,” Marquez finally replied, breaking the overbearing tension. Sera finally let out a silent breath as the man added, "Our main objective was to determine this place's threat level. We were only scouting. That is, until our run-in with you... With our squad gone, we've no choice but to retreat."

  “Marquez, is that your name?" Ning Shan asked, only for the man to turn toward him, not intending to answer.

  “His name’s Julio Marquez. He and my former boss have been rivals for years, always competing against each other,” Sera whispered, yet her voice was clearly heard by all those present.

  The two men behind them turned their gazes toward her. She could feel them staring a hole through her. Still feeling somewhat emboldened by the fact that they still held themselves back, she revealed some more.

  “My former boss complained a lot about Marquez's squad, saying how unfair it was that he was being sponsored by some of the small companies within The Cradle," she added.

  “The Cradle?” Ning Shan asked.

  “The Cradle of life, where civilization will sprout anew to reclaim this ravaged and broken world...” Sera replied, only to be interrupted.

  “That’s just the government’s propaganda to keep the populace content. They just like to foster hope to keep the peasants in their places, like tossing dregs to the swine to keep them complacent,” the other man sneered.

  “Swine? What’s that?” Sera asked, intrigued.

  “Ignore him. That’s just an expression he’s heard before,” Marquez replied, giving his companion a heavy look, only for the man to scoff and turn the other way. “Anyway, Jack has always been a sore loser, and he only grew worse with age. Still, I didn’t expect him to croak in this way.”

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  “So, you finally believe me when I said they were dead?” Sera said as she turned toward the man, only to see a look of regret on his face. Whether it was due to her boss’s death or the fact that Marquez couldn’t finish him with his own hands, she would never know.

  “Their life signals have gone dark,” Marquez shrugged. “Mr. Baxter confirmed it for us directly.”

  “Not to interrupt this lovely conversation, but can we return to why you are here?" Ning Shan asked. "How do you even quantify the threat level? Is it by their numbers or by their strength?"

  “By strength, of course,” the other man sneered. “What kind of idiot are you to not even know that much?”

  “Do I really look like I belong here?” Ning Shan replied, unbothered by the man's condescension. In fact, he found it somewhat refreshing. It had been long since someone was so fearless in his presence. Anyway, he did not need to care about someone so inconsequential. That man would disappear soon enough.

  “I must admit the fact you can live outside the cradle without a filter is not lost on me. This is also probably the reason Mr. Baxter is so interested in you," Marquez replied. "As for the Dustborns' threat level, it is determined by the strongest individual of the pack. After all, numbers don't mean anything in front of true might since higher-ranked Dustborns can control the lower-ranked ones."

  “How do you determine their ranks?" Ning Shan asked, somewhat intrigued as this strangely resembled his own world. Cultivators were also ranked by their realms, as the gap between each was almost impossible to cross. The strongest individuals usually determined fights between sects, while the weaker ones were only fodder to the slaughter to keep the other side engaged.

  "Some strong Dustborns possess an aura that can become tangible once they reach a certain threshold. The further they grow, the aura's quality changes with time and is usually represented visually through colours. It starts with red, then orange, yellow, green, blue, and finally purple."

  "Some say there are other colours after purple, but none had ever been documented," Sera added. "They are mostly just rumours. After all, a purple-ranked Dustborn is already at the Apex of its species. Something greater would be akin to a god..."

  Ning Shan couldn't help but think back to the purple-eyed bird he had encountered. While he didn't see the colour of its aura, he had clearly felt the power emanating from its body. It was comparable to a cultivator at the Tribulation Realm, just a step away from ascension. If a Dustborn above the purple rank existed, it would have to be akin to an immortal, the realm all cultivators aspired to and the one Ning Shan had been denied.

  “But, why the colours of a rainbow?” he couldn’t help but mutter as he pondered.

  “Rainbow, what’s that?” Sera asked as she looked at him, feeling slightly lost by how foreign he seemed. “Sometimes you said words I just can’t understand.”

  "Just talking to myself; don't worry about it," he replied before addressing the men behind him. "Judging by those criteria, this place should be purple-ranked. While I was fighting for my life against a swarm of vultures, I spotted a giant purple-eyed bird. While I can't really confirm that it was truly purple ranked as I didn't see its aura, I can say for certain that it should be the strongest being around."

  Marquez frowned, and so did his subordinate. Both looked at each other before the other man took a few steps back, putting his gloved hand to the side of his ear. Ning Shan could see the man's lips moving, yet no sounds came. He seemed to be talking to someone, if only because of his agitated state.

  Wishing to know more, Marquez asked Ning Shan to elaborate on his findings, only for Ning Shan to humour the man. He started telling the story of what he had encountered as he stepped foot in this ravaged city, only to withhold information about his identity. He told the man about his encounter with Sera and her hunting squad and the altercation with the vultures.

  He also vaguely mentioned what they had encountered deep underground, omitting some more controversial elements. While he wasn't thrilled about being so forthcoming, he needed to find allies in this strange world, and these people were better than nothing.

  “That’s quite the tale. Hard to believe you managed to survive all that.” Marquez replied. There was a glimmer of distrust in the man’s eyes, yet Ning Shan had no intention of pleading his case. Whether the man believed him was of no concern. “You claimed that the purple-eyed Dustborn saw you. If so, why didn’t he act? They usually do anything to sate their unending hunger.”

  “Would you see an ant as a meal?” Ning Shan replied, only for the man to grow quiet, silently accepting this argument.

  “In that case, you are one lucky man. Not many can claim to have survived a meeting with a purple-ranked Dustborn. In fact, I only know of Mr. Baxter.”

  “You talk of the fall of Londinium!?” Sera exclaimed, suddenly feeling excited. “I heard that two hundred years ago, a dust storm assaulted the city of Londinium, led by two purple-ranked Dustborns. For days, the city managed to fend them off as wave after wave of Dustborn crashed against the force field protecting the city. Still, due to the relentless siege, the reactor was constantly working above what it was designed for, and the strain meant it was always on the verge of an overload. The only way to prevent it from exploding was to shut it off. I heard Charles Baxter was against it as it would mean the city would be ravaged by the hordes of Dustborn. Instead, he led his team out of the city and confronted the two purple-ranked Dustborns, slaying one and wounding the other. However, the strain on the reactor was unsalvageable, and they had no choice but to abandon the city. While some chose to remain in Londinium and tried to repair the city, Mr. Baxter took most with him and chose to join the cradle."

  "So it is told, but who knows what really happened," Marquez shrugged. "After all, that was over two hundred years ago. There's no telling what the truth of the matter is. After all, only Mr. Baxter remains from the team that set out to face the two purple-ranked Dustborns. None but him was witness to it all."

  Ning Shan could understand the reverence they held for that man. After all, strength had always been idolized, even more so for a man of virtuous character. As for whether that story was true, Ning Shan didn't put much trust in it. After all, he had seen history be distorted so many times before—most of the time on his orders.

  “So, you never answered me properly. What now?” Ning Shan asked as he walked with no destination in mind.

  "We're almost there," Marquez replied as the other man finally rejoined the group. This time, his weapon hung from his side, and his expression had mellowed considerably. Instead, he seemed to be concerned about something else.

  Suddenly, something appeared in the distance. It resembled a large box of dark metal, which almost blended perfectly into the night. It seemed sturdy, with many angular edges, and its exterior was thick and durable. Four large wheels sprouted from each side, supporting its massive weight. It reminded Ning Shan of something resembling an armoured carriage.

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