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This tower was built of black tiles and gray brick, solemn to the point of austerity. Above the main doors hung a massive word: Qiongze. At the base of the tower stood a stele as well, the donor names carved out and colored in red paint.
He Lingchuan looked from the tower’s name to the inscription list, then slapped his palm against his other hand. “I knew it.”
Wu Jinsong had looked too, but he still did not get it. “Knew what?”
He Lingchuan only smiled, saying nothing, just in case whoever was behind this could monitor their every move.
The words on the tower and stele were normal, not reversed as they had been in “Wuze County.”
Which meant the Wuze County he had been running through earlier had been a mirror image or literally a reflection, but the same was not the case for this battlefield.
Or, to put it another way, that reflected Wuze County was the easiest set piece for the hidden puppeteer to control, which was why He Lingchuan had been dropped there first. Only after it failed to snatch his soul did it toss him into this battlefield, hoping the sheer force of war would do the job instead.
And weirdly enough, that thought made him relax.
If the one pulling the strings could not fully control this battlefield, then he and Wu Jinsong’s group were, at least relatively speaking, safer here.
Now they just had to find...
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