273: Chapter 273 Victory Celebration Feast, Future Outlook

Night wind carrying the scent of scorched earth swept across the Main Hall square, torches snapping on the flagpoles.

Chen Wuwang kicked over a low table, wine jars rolling across the ground. He stood in the center of the high platform and suddenly threw his head back and laughed: "Hahaha! Why are you all dazed? You won, and yet you don't dare to laugh?"

The laughter was like a knife cutting through the heavy air. Below, a group of young Disciples were bowing their heads to eat dry rations; hearing the laughter, they snapped their heads up, their eyes still carrying the fatigue and daze of consecutive days of battle preparation.

He yanked open his cloak, revealing the Titanium Alloy Dagger at his waist; the blade's edge was blackened, and the bloodstains had already dried into crusts.

"Look closely!" He raised the dagger with one hand, pointing it at the crowd. "On this is the blood of Blood Demon Sect scouts! Not ours! We survived, they died!"

Below the platform, there was silence for several breaths.

An old craftsman slowly set down his bowl and raised a hand to wipe his face, the back of his hand covered in burn scars from welding mecha. He stood up, said nothing, but simply thumped his chest heavily.

This muffled sound was like opening a floodgate.

Chen Xiaodao was the first to move. With a "clang," he unsheathed his sword, his mechanical left arm humming to life as the runes on the blade lit up with blue light, and he thrust it fiercely into the ground. He raised a wine cup with one hand, his voice tearing through the night: "For a stronger future!"

The entire Sword Cultivator Team rose with a roar, longswords striking the ground, the sound of metal clashing ringing like thunder.

"For a stronger future—!"

Chen Tiezhu sat in the western construction area, clutching an empty wine jar with a grin, a piece of roast meat still stuck between his teeth. He slammed the jar onto the ground, shards flying everywhere, and grabbed a freshly poured jar nearby to gulp it down.

"Thirty years!" He wiped his mouth, shouting until the veins on his neck bulged. "I haven't had such a satisfying victory wine in thirty years! Bottoms up!"

The men of the Artifact Refining Workshop responded immediately. Some swung hammers against scrap parts, the rhythmic clanging becoming a beat; others simply stripped off their shirts, revealing backs full of scars, and began a rugged Forging Dance around the fire.

Bai Ling leaped lightly, her toes tapping the top of a flagpole as she floated in mid-air. With a flick of her fingers, she scattered a string of Fluorescent Spores, as if she had plucked the entire starry sky and let it slowly drift down upon the crowd.

"I have seen thousand-year-old withered trees bloom in spring," her voice was clear and pure, without a single impurity. "And I have seen weak races perish in silence."

She looked down at the faces below—children with grease on the corners of their mouths and eyes shining terrifyingly bright; elders leaning on canes but stomping their feet to the rhythm; and those guards who should have been on patrol, now putting down their weapons and clinking cups with smiles.

"And today—" She paused, the corners of her lips curling slightly. "I see hope growing."

As those words fell, someone first shouted "Patriarch," and then the entire square erupted.

"For a stronger future!"

"For the Chen Family!"

"For everyone who survived!"

The shouts shook the mountain walls until they hummed, startling a flock of birds in the distant forest. High in the sky, the moon hung bright, casting everyone's shadows long and connecting them like an indestructible wall.

Chen Wuwang said no more, simply standing there and letting the waves of cheers wash over him. His gaze swept across the scene: craftsmen striking their tools with long-absent smiles; Sword Cultivators standing shoulder to shoulder, even those wounded standing tall; children chasing the fluorescent light, their laughter crisp enough to cut through the night mist.

He knew these people were exhausted.

He knew they had been afraid.

He also knew that some still didn't dare close their eyes, for the moment they did, images of collapsing insect hives and Yao Beasts lunging at them would appear.

But now, they were all smiling.

After finishing his wine, Chen Tiezhu plopped back into his seat and grabbed a piece of roast meat handed to him by an apprentice, munching as he muttered: "Don't say, the heat of this tech-furnace is damn steady. Crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, it smells even better than what I used to simmer with Spiritual Qi."

The apprentice chuckled: "Of course, you're now the 'Cyber Lu Ban,' the only one in the entire Eastern Wasteland."

"Stop flattering me." He glared, but couldn't help grinning. "But... I like the sound of that."

On the other side, Chen Xiaodao still held his sword-drawing posture; though he had relaxed his strength, his Battle Intent had not dissipated. A young Disciple approached and asked timidly, "Young Lord, will we... still have to fight wars next?"

He looked down at the boy, then gazed at the figure on the high platform, saying slowly: "I don't know if the enemy will come."

He paused, his voice deepening: "But I know that as long as I can still hold a sword, no one will set foot into the Chen Family."

Bai Ling landed at the edge of a beam of light, the remaining fluorescence on her fingertips flickering slightly. She watched the jubilant crowd and suddenly whispered, "So the lights of humanity really can burn through the darkness."

In the center of the square, the bonfire burned brighter and brighter.

Chen Wuwang finally raised his hand and pressed down with his palm.

The waves of sound gradually subsided.

He didn't laugh or shout; he just quietly looked at everyone, then raised the wine cup in his hand.

"Someone asked me, who are we fighting next?" His voice wasn't loud, yet it reached every corner. "I say—I don't care who the enemy is."

He turned and pointed toward the distant night sky.

A formation of three mecha was flying low over the Medicinal Field, their shield generators tracing silver lines under the moon, as if weaving a net for the earth.

"What I care about is whether tomorrow's Medicinal Field will have one more ridge." His tone was calm, yet every word was like a driven nail. "Whether the Acquired children can practice their swords for one more moment."

The crowd listened in silence.

There was no applause, no shouting, only the crackling of the flames.

"We don't become strong to kill." He turned back, his eyes burning. "It's to protect the lights behind us from going out."

He paused for a second, his voice suddenly becoming fiery: "As long as there is still one person who wants to move forward, the Chen Family's path—has no end!"

In an instant, heaven and earth seemed to be ignited.

"No end—!"

"No end!!"

"No end!!!"

The roars reached the heavens, making even the galaxy tremble.

Chen Tiezhu laughed while clutching his wine jar, but his eyes were a bit moist.

Chen Xiaodao stood before the Patrol Team with his sword, his back as straight as a spear.

Bai Ling floated in mid-air, fluorescence flowing from her fingertips, reflecting in her clear eyes.

The clansmen hugged, jumped, cried, or laughed; their fatigue vanished, and light was rekindled in their eyes.

Chen Wuwang still stood on the high platform, his wine cup not yet lowered, his cloak snapping in the wind.

He gazed at the starry sky, his expression fervent and profound, like a beast poised to strike; amidst the victory fireworks, he caught the scent of the next battle on the wind.