Clan Building System: I'm not the Protagonist?! - Chapter 320

Chapter 320: 320- The Drunk Man.
Coldwind City:

A soldier knelt beside a deep claw mark.

“Commander,” he reported confused, “it’s as if the beast just vanished from this place. There’s no blood trail, not even any footprints. It’s as if it dissapeared into thin air.”

The commander narrowed his eyes, scanning the empty expanse where the Saberfang had been reported.

His jaw tightened as he recalled how the Fang family had dissapeared during the middle of the war.

“…General Ming is not going to be pleased when he hears this,” he muttered.

Then he straightened, voice hardening into an authoritative bark.

“All units! Form up!”

Boots snapped together and he raised his blade, pointing toward the city exit.

“Mission objective has disappeared. Cease all pursuit. Regroup and withdraw to the rendezvous point! Move out, now!”

A chorus of voices answered,

“YES, COMMANDER!”

The soldiers mobilized instantly, breaking into coordinated formations.

Their footsteps thundered through the ruined streets as they marched out of Coldwind City in tight ranks.

The commander cast one last long look at the empty battlefield.

“There’s definitely an ambush lying ahead…” he muttered to himself.

Then he turned and followed his men.

The Qin army marched through the cracked road leading out of Coldwind City without any interference until a ragged man stepped into their path.

His beard was unkempt and tangled, his hair fell in greasy strands and his robes were torn, stained with ash and mud.

In one hand he clutched a half-empty wineskin.

His eyes were red and swollen as he staggered once, then planted himself firmly before the commanding officer.

“H-Hey…”

His voice cracked.

“You… you Qin dogs…”

The soldiers halted in confusion while the commander instantly frowned.

The drunk man swayed, gripping his wineskin as if it kept him upright.

“What… what did the Fang family ever do to you…?”

His voice trembled with grief and anger.

“Why… why’d you kill them…?”

No one answered him.

The commander simply motioned to walk around the drunk.

“Ignore him. Move.”

But the man stepped in front of them again, blocking the way.

“Hey… HEY!”

He slapped his chest.

“I’m talkin’ to you bastards…!”

The soldiers kept their rigid discipline and remained silent to the questioning.

The man’s voice broke.

“Fang family… they had children… children…”

His hand shook violently.

“Little Fang Mei… she… she used to share her steamed buns with me—”

His voice cracked sharply.

“She was a good girl… a sweet girl…”

The man’s shoulders shook.

“What crime…? What crime did they commit to deserve being slaughtered…?!”

Tears streamed down his dirty cheeks.

“Tell me… tell me!”

This time, a soldier stepped forward, irritated and annoyed.

He drawn his sword as he yelled, “Out of the way, old man.”

The drunk man didn’t move, instead he kept on asking, “You Qin dogs… you can’t even answer a dead beggar…?”

The soldier’s jaw tightened.

“Move, or I—”

SHING!

It happened in a blur of motion followed by a wet thud.

The soldier’s head separated cleanly from his body and rolled across the dirt, eyes still open in frozen disbelief.

His body crumpled a moment later and the Qin troops jumped back in shock.

The commander’s pupils shrank.

Every remaining soldier raised his weapon but the drunk man didn’t even look at the corpse.

He kept staring straight ahead, breathing hard, knuckles white around the wineskin.

“Why…?”

He whispered hoarsely.

“What did the Fang family do to deserve this…?”

He lifted his head and glared at them with bloodshot, grief-torn eyes.

“You bastards… killed them all…”

Another soldier vomited on the spot.

Several staggered backward.

The commander took a trembling step.

“W-Who are you…?”

The drunk man didn’t answer.

He just whispered, as if to himself:

“Fang Mei… little Fang Mei… she… she didn’t do anything…”

He raised his head again and now the air itself trembled.

The Qin soldiers felt it, a killing intent so old, so raw, and so overwhelming

that it made their bones feel like glass.

A lieutenant screamed:

“W-we didn’t kill any of—!!”

Before he could finish his sentence his chest exploded inward, as if punched by an invisible mountain.

CRACK.

His body folded like wet cloth serving as an example for the soldiers frozen in horror.

The drunk man didn’t even look at him.

He merely brushed his thumb across the mouth of his wineskin, smearing the wine and tears on his face.

“Oh youngest brother Yuan’er…”

his voice trembled, broken, empty,

“…I’ll avenge your family’s dead…”

A soldier panicked.

“R-RUN!!”

SHHKK

A thin line of blood opened across his throat, he fell before he even touched the ground.

“R-RETREAT—RETREAT—!”

The commander tried to shout orders,

But his voice choked as the drunk man appeared in front of him.

“Did you kill her…?”

The commander couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t blink, couldn’t think.

“I—I—”

The drunk man tilted his head and his grip tightened.

And the commander’s entire torso twisted with a sickening crunch, bones snapping like dry twigs.

His corpse fell in a mangled heap, and the soldiers started screaming.

Some swung their swords wildly, some ran while some dropped to their knees, begging for mercy.

But the drunk man’s hand rose and

BOOM!

A pressure wave tore through the formation, crushing armor, bone, and flesh alike.

Men burst like fruits under a hammer, blood mist settled over the ruins.

After all that, he walked through the carnage slowly, stumbling, dragging his feet, wine dripping from his hand.

A soldier swung at him with trembling hands to which the drunk man placed a finger on the blade.

Just one finger.

And the sword instantly exploded into shards, followed by the soldiers arms and then his body.

The drunk man staggered forward as he watched another soldier tried to crawl away.

He grabbed the man by the ankle.

The man shrieked and then went silent as he was whipped across the ground.

There was blood, dust and definition death all around until finally only one last sol

ldier remained.

He was too injured to even run.

Yet despite the obviously huge bleeding, he still tried to crawl away crying for help.

“H-Help… help me…”

The drunk man walked toward him slowly and then he knelt beside the soldier and gabbed him by the collar as he whispered:

“Tell me… what crime did they commit…?”

The soldier sobbed, shaking his head.

The man’s grip tightened.

“WHAT CRIME DID THEY COMMIT?!?!”

His roar shook the broken walls.

The soldier screamed in terror until he could hear his voice no more.