Chapter 3: Embracing a Life Where Freedom Determines Life and Death

At that moment, only a thin layer of skin and flesh connected the Jin soldier’s head to his body, narrowly escaping being severed by Wang Lu’s kick.

“Phew~”

With a thud—

As Wang Lu lent a hand, Shen Lian seized the opportunity to plunge his blade into the Jin soldier’s body.

Now that the soldier was truly dead, Shen Lian finally exhaled in relief.

With both hands, he pulled the blade free.

He fell backward, arms resting casually above his shoulders in a spread-eagle posture.

His eyes fixed on the dark sky as he gasped heavily.

A short knife was still embedded in his shoulder—an heirloom from the Jin soldier Wang Lu had just slain.

“What’s your name?” Shen Lian asked, panting.

No response came.

He glanced up at his comrade in arms, whose martial skills rivaled his own, only to find him dazed and forlorn.

Indeed, after such a dismal battle, none could feel anything but despair.

Wang Lu was no exception.

What unsettled him most was the mission completion prompt that suddenly echoed in his mind upon slaying the last Jin soldier.

This startled him.

[Current World: Embroidered Spring Blade: Asura Battlefield]

[Identity: Captain of the Brocade Guard, son of Wang Chaoju, subordinate to General Wang Xuan of the Western Army, defender Wang Lu]

[Side Quest (Completed): Prisoner Rescue Operation]

[Reward: Deduction Points *10*3]

[Current Deduction Points: 30]

[Current Martial Art: Xinyou Saber Technique (Intermediate)]

“Can you hear me?” Shen Lian asked again.

But Wang Lu’s face lit with a trace of joy, puzzling Shen Lian.

Wang Lu closed the interface, suppressing the impulse to immediately allocate points, and looked at Shen Lian.

“What did you say? I got distracted.”

“I asked your name,” Shen Lian repeated.

“Wang Lu.”

Wang Lu answered succinctly.

At that moment, someone near Wang Lu began shaking violently, sobbing.

“Brother, could you untie my ropes first?” Lu Wenzhao, kneeling in the center, requested in a steady yet hoarse voice as Wang Lu looked his way.

Wang Lu bent down, picked up a short knife from the ground, and approached the three prisoners, slicing through their shackles one by one.

“Thanks,” Lu Wenzhao said, pushing himself halfway up with his hands after the ropes were cut.

“No problem.”

Wang Lu sheathed the short knife at his waist, attempting a smile that stiffened awkwardly, his tone rigid.

Yet no one seemed to notice.

Seeing Lu Wenzhao’s cracked lips reaching out, Wang Lu immediately understood and handed him the water pouch from his waist.

“Thanks again.”

Lu Wenzhao accepted it, removed the stopper, and gulped down two or three mouthfuls.

He swallowed with difficulty.

The only sound on the battlefield was the gurgle of his water.

“I serve under General Du,” Lu Wenzhao said, red droplets staining his beard, splattering as he spoke.

This was the dried blood diluted by the water.

“Is General Du well?” Wang Lu asked.

He realized he had stolen Shen Lian’s line.

No wonder it came out so naturally.

“Fine, exceptI'm sorry, but I cannot assist with that request.