Chapter 39 Blood Iron Wasteland
This is a cruel place known as the "Iron Wasteland," where the land is barren, the rivers are murky, and the sky is often so gloomy that it seems about to fall.
This land lies under the rule of the God of War, whose ruler, known as the "Blood Iron Baron," is renowned for his extreme cruelty and ruthlessness. His castle sits atop a rusty iron mountain, like a colossal beast overlooking the villages and wastelands below. The people under the Baron's rule struggle in misery, yet they have nowhere to escape, for beyond the wasteland lie even more dangerous monsters and barren lands.
Characteristics of rule —
1. Taxation and Poverty
In the Iron-Blooded Wasteland, taxes are like knives. The Baron's tax collectors force every household in the village to hand over grain, iron ore, and even blood. His "blood tax" requires every adult laborer to give a bowl of their own blood every month. The Baron claims that this blood is the "secret medicine for steelmaking," but in reality, it is used for evil sacrifices.
The baron's army controlled all food production in the territory, and widespread poverty and hunger became the most powerful tool for controlling the people. Anyone who resisted was deprived of their food rations and their entire family starved to death.
2. Torture and Sacrifice
The baron also built a "blood-rusted cage" where all captured prisoners would be thrown. His executioners would grind the prisoners' bones bit by bit, and the cries of agony would be broadcast throughout the land via special horns to warn all the people.
On the night of the full moon each month, he would select a villager for a public "iron sacrifice," binding him naked to a blazing iron pillar and burning him alive, in order to please the legendary evil spirits of iron.
3. The Army and Spy
The baron's army was known as the "Rusty Armored Legion," whose soldiers wore blood-stained armor and had their faces smeared with white ash, resembling the Grim Reaper. They were responsible for collecting taxes, suppressing rebellions, and carrying out blood sacrifices, leaving nothing but desolation in their wake.
Each village was guarded by a "stealth eye" spy, the most despicable of the people, who would betray their fellow citizens in exchange for meager rations. If anyone plotted a rebellion, the baron would burn the entire family to ashes.
Territory Landscape —
1. A dilapidated village
Most of the houses in the village were built of dilapidated mud bricks and straw. The fields were overgrown with weeds, and there were hardly any mature crops in sight. The villagers were ragged and emaciated, the children had blank stares, and the women wrapped their babies tightly in rags to protect them from the biting cold wind.
At night, the village was often shrouded in darkness, with only the flickering torches of armored soldiers on patrol. People huddled in their huts, fearing that a single cough might bring about their demise.
2. Baron's Castle
The baron's castle, located in the center of the territory, is a huge and eerie building constructed from unpolished iron blocks and discarded ore, with dried bloodstains covering its outer walls.
Inside the castle is a chilling "Ironheart Hall," in the center of which stands a massive furnace. It is said that the Baron once threw the corpses of rebels into it, condemning their souls to eternal damnation.
3. The Hell of the Mine
The mines are the most terrifying place in the territory, known as the "Rusty Blood Abyss." Hundreds of miners toil day and night, digging for iron ore, their bodies filthy, their hands and feet chained. They have almost no rest; the slightest lapse in attention will result in immediate beheading by the overseer.
Strange red light emanates from deep underground, rumored to be the wailing spirits of miners.
The Baron's Faith
The baron adhered to an ancient cult called "Blood Iron," believing that human blood and iron ore were the soul of the earth and that constant sacrifices were necessary to appease the "evil spirits of iron." To please these evil spirits, he even immersed his left hand in molten iron as a sign of loyalty.
Resistance and hope—
Although the baron's tyranny seemed unbreakable, some sparks of resistance still lingered in the territory.
1. Wandering poet
A wandering poet secretly travels through villages, spreading the baron's atrocities through his songs and telling the people about a distant paradise. His existence ignites hope in the people, but also prompts the baron to send assassins to hunt him down.
2. Rust Alliance
A group of escaped miners formed a secret organization called the "Rust Alliance," hiding deep in the mountains, waiting for the right moment to launch a fatal blow against the Baron's rule. Although they were few in number, they possessed an ancient weapon that was said to be able to destroy the forge on which the Baron depended for his livelihood.
On this land of despair, oppression and resistance are inextricably intertwined, and blood and rust never dry. It is a story of brutal rule, and also a struggle for hope and humanity.
In the year 2449 of the Genesis Calendar, on an unusually cold winter day, fine snowflakes began to fall from the perpetually gloomy sky of the Blood Iron Wasteland. This cursed land seemed to be so stingy with even the heavens, unwilling to grant it a shred of warmth.
Just then, a lone figure appeared on the horizon of the wasteland.
He wore a thick, tattered black robe that almost completely covered his figure. The wide hood hung low, obscuring his face and making it impossible to see his expression.
The robe seemed to have been with him for a long time; it was covered in dust and stains, the edges were badly worn, and in some places the stuffing was even showing. The material of the robe was also unrecognizable; it looked like some kind of rough linen, or perhaps some kind of animal fur. In short, it was tattered and looked as if it would tear at the slightest force.
And this person's body, like his robe, was tattered and broken.
Through the gaps in his robe, one could vaguely see his shattered body.
His skin was covered with scars, some of which had scabbed over, while others were still bleeding, and you could even see exposed bones and internal organs.
One of his arms was twisted unnaturally, as if it had been broken; one of his legs was also severely lame, and he had to pause for a long time after each step, as if he would fall at any moment.
His body was like a rag doll that had been carelessly discarded, wantonly destroyed and ravaged, and then haphazardly stitched back together, barely maintaining its human form.
But in stark contrast to his dilapidated body were his bright eyes.
Beneath the shadow of that wide hood, a pair of eyes shone with a resolute light, like the brightest star in the sky above the wasteland.
Those eyes showed no fear or hesitation, no confusion or despair, only determination and perseverance, as if they contained boundless power.
His back was straight, and despite his broken body, he maintained a noble posture. Everyone could feel that no hardship in the world could crush him