'Hey, it is actually a nice idea!' Gael suddenly said.

Zane, obviously, wasn't expecting that answer. 'Wait, really?'

'NO!' Gael shouted back in their minds. 'What kind of fucking idea is that? First of all, what if doing such a thing actually messes up the balance instead. Not to mention, I would never allow that!'

'Tch...' Knowing it wouldn't go anywhere, he spoke slowly. 'The necromancer, despite being a pathetic bastard, can summon a large number of skeleton soldiers. In a war with so many corpses nearby, it's a simple strategy for him to multiply his army without expending much energy. Besides, there are two other dark cultivators attacking in different areas.'

'This war must have been going on for a few years, and the level of humanoid race cultivators shouldn't be higher. You're not an idiot; we ourselves have faced an attrition battle like this in the past, and the enemy's level was slightly higher than ours. You should already know perfectly well how they've held their ground in this war,' Zane added with a tone of wicked amusement.

The skeleton turned his gaze upward and began to move slowly toward a busier area. "There are still two hours until dawn; let's find out then," Gael communicated mentally, sneaking through the shadows.

On top of a hill, a soldier cautiously observed a cluster of darkness. A few kilometers away from him, other points of light were visible; they were the scouts, forming a defensive chain as they carefully watched the enemy over a wide area.

The skeleton, blending in with the shadows of the trees, slowly approached the hill. Around him, they could see a command tent in the center of the camp, and as their sights adjusted to the darkness, they began to notice scattered wagons throughout the camp.

One of them was filled with people. Someone in that wagon felt something and looked into a dark shadow, catching a glimpse of two small points resembling red orbits watching them. Everyone there was dirty and ragged, and the person looked back at Gael and Zane with a mixture of curiosity and fear in startled eyes.

Suddenly, the two red points went out, but the trembling eyes of that person didn't waver. There was something strange in the air, a small glimmer of hope for a possible change.

As Zane and Gael continued to approach slowly, they noticed that some soldiers with considerably higher cultivation were patrolling in a small group. In the center of the camp, a long table was filled with people eating and drinking.

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The skeleton continued to creep toward the large empty tent, sliding along the ground with its skeletal fingers and bones until it reached the back of the tent. There, Gael picked up a knife and began to carefully carve the tent fabric, opening a small slit that allowed his skeletal body to pass through silently.

Gael's skeletal head appeared between the thighs of two women tied up with ropes, while dozens of other women watched with expressions of despair on their faces. Their mouths were tightly closed, but their gazes conveyed a primal fear and terror as if they wished to scream with all their might.

Gael was the one in control and exuded that frightening aura, while Zane smiled inwardly.

'You wanted to see with your own eyes, there you go! The people inside the wagons were all men and children native to small villages of the same race. Further away, there were others from different divine beast races,' Gael explained.

'They will probably be used as cannon fodder with slave seals. Historically, slavery techniques are the first techniques created by cultivators, and in this universe, it's no different.'

'This race uses the weaker ones around them as sacrifices, while the more powerful ones attack the necromancers directly. It's a good tactic; they save energy and go all out against the necromancer. If the necromancer is defeated quickly, his or her summons lose their connection and become easier to deal with later,' Zane added sarcastically.

'The women must be destined for other purposes. Well, you and I know many refining and dual cultivation techniques, so you can imagine their fate,' Zane concluded sardonically. 'In fact...' Zane controlled the skeleton arm as he started to go up in one of the women's tight. 'We can have some fun ourselves.'

Gael snorted after seeing it. 'You? Having fun with women? Alright, go ahead. Let me see it!'

Zane let go of the skeleton arm, feeling a little down that Gael didn't fall for that. 'Fine, you have the same memories as me, so you know I have never forgotten our wife. That is the one barrier I could never cross.'

Gael was taken aback. 'Errr... I simply thought you had no penis, so you couldn't have fun anyway.'

Zane was once again speechless.

They left the tent and moved stealthily, staying in the shadows while they listened to the guards' conversation. The guards boasted about how they had moved from tent to tent while their villages were burned, capturing slaves and killing those who refused to make the journey.

Zane didn't miss the opportunity to ridicule, saying, 'These are definitely our ancestors; humans are great at killing themselves. Using other races and the weakest as shields? That's just inevitable. I would have gathered them all and refined their lives into power. It would be a sinister bloodbath, but it would be swift and elegant,' Zane concluded with a muffled laugh.

After a few meters, they reached an area where the slaves were held in waiting. Three rows of slaves were tied by a master chain to a crude and rudimentary metal anchor. The slaves inside the wagons were of the same race as the soldiers, while those tied outside were a strange mixture of horned humanoids with wings of various sizes, closely resembling half-human, half-divine beast beings.

Gael remembered that someone inside the wagon had noticed their presence and approached it. When he got close to the chain that held them, Gael heard words he didn't understand, but Gael didn't need to understand; it was written on the humanoid's face, 'What the hell is THIS?' as he breathed in fear.

Suddenly, a blue-eyed gaze turned in their direction, and Gael looked closely at that figure. It was clearly a child; their body was dirty, but their eyes were pure and clear, without any trace of fear.

This mortal child, without any cultivation, was the only one who had noticed their presence, while not even the soldiers had sensed them. Their gaze was fixed on Gael, and they now had conviction. No matter the era or location, in times of crisis and disaster, talented and genius individuals always emerge. This child could instinctively merge with the world and its laws. Nothing escaped his senses, something only a cultivator in the higher realms could achieve.

'Combined with their bloodline, this child is destined to become someone superior and incomparable. Hahahahahah...' Zane laughed uncontrollably.

'It's very likely that if this boy had the opportunity to cultivate, he could end this war in a few hundred years. But this race of humans is simply going to send him to his death and bury his chance of victory completely,' Gael lamented instead.