147: Chapter 147 The visitor felt awe and dared not act rashly.

Static electricity crackled against the metal, repelling the dust.

The Gray-robed man still held a coarse ceramic teacup in his hand, his fingers numb.

The tea had long since gone cold; he stared at the mech, his throat bobbing, and walked over slowly to place the bowl gently back on the table.

The bottom of the bowl made a soft sound as it touched the table.

"Let's go." His voice was dry.

No one answered him; seven or eight people stood motionless, their eyes fixed on the five iron mountains in the distance.

The middle-aged man in the green shirt touched his sleeve, where a note was hidden with four words written on it: "Eliminate them immediately."

But the thing before their eyes could not be solved just by "eliminating" it.

The old man in the brown robe suddenly spoke: "Did you see... that crack from just now, did it disappear?"

Everyone followed his gaze.

The mech's left arm had originally had a scratch, left behind during yesterday's test explosion; now it was gone, the armor was intact, and even the reflection was perfectly uniform.

"It healed itself," he said in a low voice, "I saw green patterns crawling over it with my own eyes, like it was alive."

The Gray-robed man didn't turn back, only saying: "It is not a weapon."

"Then what is it?" someone nearby asked.

"It is the return of the War God." He finally turned around, his steps very slow, as if afraid of disturbing someone; every step on the ground was very light.

Only then did the others start to move; some had weak legs and nearly fell, others had shaking hands and nearly knocked over their teacups.

They backed out of the training ground step by step, their backs to the black steel, none daring to look back.

After walking three hundred steps and rounding a gravel slope, the mountains blocked their view and the mech was no longer visible; only then did the middle-aged man in the green shirt stop and sit down on the ground.

"Let's rest for a moment." He wiped his face, "If I walk any further, I really won't be able to move."

The Gray-robed man leaned against a rock and took a sip from his waterskin, his hand still shaking.

Water spilled on his clothes, leaving a dark patch.

"When we came, we thought we were here to watch a joke."

He smiled bitterly, "We heard the Chen family made a few iron lumps that could fly and fight, so we wanted to come and see the commotion—but what was the result?"

"It wasn't a commotion." The old man in the brown robe leaned against a tree and looked up at the sky, "It's a killing weapon; and... it listens to one person."

"It's not just listening." The man in the green shirt closed his eyes, recalling, "It reacts; when Chen Wuwang pats it, it flashes green light, like it's responding. What do you call this? Is it a machine? Or... something else?"

"It was exchanged for with lives," the Gray-robed man said in a low voice, "Didn't you notice? There are bloodstains on the mech's joints, dark red, seeping into the crevices; it's not painted, it's real."

Everyone was silent.

A young man couldn't help but ask: "Then what should we say when we go back? Our master ordered us to investigate clearly; if we say we 'can't beat them,' we'll definitely be scolded."

"Only by not telling the truth will you die quickly."

The Gray-robed man said coldly:

"Do you remember the Li family of West Ridge three years ago? They also said the Chen family was incompetent and sent thirty Cultivators to seize them; and the result? Thirty corpses hung at the mine entrance, their heads all gone, leaving only their bodies stuck in the ground like flagpoles."

The young man shut his mouth.

The man in the green shirt opened his eyes and looked at the path outside the woods: "We will split into two groups; one group will head north to report, and one will head east back to the city. The news must be spread, but it cannot be the same."

"What do you mean?"

"Tell the superiors that the Chen family has mechs, that they can fly and fight; this is intelligence."

"Saying it can repair itself, has consciousness, and only listens to one person's command—this is a warning."

"If we say it feels pain, remembers things, and is treated like a brother, that is a declaration of war."

"So?"

"So we must be clear, but not too explicit."

The Gray-robed man continued: "Just say—the Chen family has five mechs, their performance is much stronger than imagined, and the master, Chen Wuwang, has strong control; they cannot be underestimated. As for the rest... let them guess for themselves."

"But the secret letter says 'Eliminate them immediately'..."

"Then reply with: 'The timing is not right; forcing it will result in the loss of important combat power.'" The Gray-robed man sneered, "Anyway, we are just scouts, not the ones making decisions; we've said what should be said, we've advised what should be advised, their life or death is none of our business."

Everyone nodded.

The old man in the brown robe took one last look at the direction of the training ground; on the distant mountain ridge, five black shadows were faintly visible, like blades stuck in the ground.

"I used to think the Chen family was a lame dog that would die with a kick." He said in a low voice, "Now I see, they are wolves in iron skins, and a whole pack of them."

"Not just wolves." The man in the green shirt shook his head, "Wolves would hide; those five mechs, cannons pointed to the sky, standing motionless, just letting us watch—it was intentional. It isn't afraid of us knowing; it wants us to be afraid."

Everyone fell silent again.

The wind blew through the woods, leaves rustling; a crow flew by and cawed, and several of the men shrank their shoulders in fright.

"Let's go." The Gray-robed man stepped forward, "Take the news back and let the superiors think for themselves; we can't afford to provoke them, so don't try to act brave."

The group split up, three heading north, four heading east.

The sound of footsteps gradually faded, rustling on the fallen leaves.

The three heading north walked halfway, when one suddenly stopped.

"What's wrong?" a companion asked.

He looked back at the path they came from: "Do you think... that mech can really recognize people?"

"Otherwise, why would all five light up at one word from Chen Wuwang?"

"I mean... will it remember us?"

The two were stunned.

"You mean, it remembered what we look like?"

"It had light in its eyes; when it scanned us, I was thinking—did it record us? Did it save it? If we meet again, will it open fire directly?"

"Don't talk nonsense." The other scolded, "That's a machine, not a monster."

"But it can repair itself." The man insisted, "It responds to its master; do you think it has a brain? Does it have memory?"

No one answered.

The three continued walking, their steps faster than before.

Among the four heading east, the middle-aged man in the green shirt walked in front; he suddenly raised his hand, signaling everyone to stop.

"What?" the person behind asked.

He didn't speak, taking the secret letter from his sleeve; he stared at the words "Eliminate them immediately" for a long time, then suddenly tore it up, tore it again, and again, until it turned into small fragments, scattering into the wind.

The paper scraps drifted away and quickly disappeared.

"What are you doing?" someone asked in surprise.

"This order cannot be executed." He said calmly, "I can report the news, but I cannot take this and go to my death. The same goes for you—when we go back, just say we saw with our own eyes that the Chen family has incredible power, and acting rashly will surely lead to disaster."

The three looked at each other and finally nodded.

"Actually..." one said in a low voice, "I haven't wanted to come for a long time; I heard the Chen family head has three scars on his right cheek, left by the Zerg. He survived and even used the Zerg cores as energy; such a person should not be provoked."

"It's not too late to know now." The man in the green shirt continued walking, "I used to think the Chen family using technology was an Evil Path; now I see, they have bound their lives to iron. What can we use to fight? Fill it with human lives? They already have iron brothers to block blades for them."

The road ahead widened, sunlight shining in and falling on the muddy ground.

The Gray-robed man walked in the back and suddenly looked back.

The distant mountain ridge was quiet, the five shadows no longer visible; but he knew they were still there, like five monuments that would not fall.

He said softly: "When we go back, say—the Chen family cannot be provoked."

The three in front didn't turn back, but answered in unison:

"Understood."