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Wu Shaoyi’s breathing was still faint and ragged. “Are you a state soldier, or one of Lu’s scum?”
He Lingchuan rubbed a smear of grime from his temple. “State soldier.”
“No armor on you. Not a common footman, then?”
“Not quite.” He Lingchuan was impressed. The man was already half-dead, yet his eyes were still sharp as a hawk. “I’m just someone who was tagging along.”
He Lingchuan then turned the questioning around, “Why do you call such a monster the crocodile god?”
“It hails from the northern monster state, once fighting under the Divine Master’s banner.” Wu Shaoyi rasped, “In every river or lake battle it led, victory was almost completely assured. The army revered it as the Crocodile God[1], often throwing cattle and sheep into the water as a sacrifice. Save for the Divine Master, it never parleyed with mortals. Anyone who offended it, whether they...
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