Chapter 435 207: Desolate Land of Death

In a head-on fight, He Zhiping was confident he could take down Batubohe, but his own losses would be immense. All his hard work would be for nothing. It wasn't worth it, so he had chosen to retreat. He hadn't expected Batubohe to be so relentless, chasing him nonstop.

'Is he crazy?'

No, He Zhiping didn't think Batubohe would be chasing him for no reason. Something had to be up. If nothing was going on, based on his understanding of Batubohe, even knowing he couldn't win, Batubohe would have fought him to the bitter end instead of just trailing him from a distance.

'He has backup?'

'So who is Batubohe's backup?'

He Zhiping's mind raced, and he immediately guessed it: the Undead. Batubohe's Ally had to be the Undead.

'No, I can't wait any longer. I can't keep messing around in this Wasteland, or I'll be a dead man.' Alarm bells rang in He Zhiping's mind. He had the Dragon Lizard Fortress change direction and charge toward the border.

Once he broke out of this region, he could find a way to shake Batubohe.

Go, go, go!

Full power!

Faster, faster, faster!

The Dragon Lizard Fortress charged ahead frantically. Batubohe was getting anxious, chasing relentlessly from behind while sending a constant stream of coordinates to Li Ziyu via private message. He urged him to hurry; at this rate, the Dragon Lizard Lord was likely to escape.

Li Ziyu had never left this Wasteland, but Batubohe had come from the outside. He knew what it was like out there. In the Wasteland, long, wide buffer zones separated each region.

These buffer zones were completely desolate, devoid of vegetation, and consisted of nothing but barren soil. Massive dust storms that blotted out the sky were a frequent occurrence. Even a Mobile Fortress traveling through one would be completely hidden if caught in a major storm.

The Natives called these buffer zones the Desolate Land of Death.

No Tribe could survive in the Desolate Land of Death. There was no water, no food, and no resources—only wind and dust.

The existence of the Desolate Land of Death was precisely why the Natives rarely left their home territories. To attempt a crossing was to court death, a gamble they would never take unless it was their absolute last resort. Consequently, once a Tribe entered the Desolate Land of Death, all prior grudges were considered settled. Their enemies would abandon the pursuit.

It was the same principle as death canceling all debts.

The Transmigrators in the Wasteland, however, could use this to their advantage. They had Mobile Fortresses, which traveled much faster, and they were stocked with plenty of supplies. For them, crossing the Desolate Land of Death wasn't particularly difficult, as long as they didn't get lost.

As the Dragon Lizard Fortress drew closer to the border, a smile spread across He Zhiping's face. 'Just a little longer, and I'll be in the Desolate Land of Death. Then I can use the wind and dust to hide my Fortress and escape with ease.'

[Private Chat]

Arrogant Brother Ping: Batubohe, come and get me! Hahaha, can't keep up, can you!

Soaring Eagle: You'd better pray I don't catch you!

Arrogant Brother Ping: I just love how you're so pissed off and can't do a thing about it. You keep trying, though. Hahaha…

Soaring Eagle: MOTHERFUCKER!

He Zhiping closed the private chat, shaking his head smugly and feeling extremely pleased with himself. 'That's right, little punk, keep chasing. Just you wait. I'll find a new place to build up my power, and then I'll come back for you. One way or another, I'll make sure you're dead.'

'What do they call this? Revenge is a dish best served cold. Either way, I've got you marked.'

A Dragon Lizardman rushed to He Zhiping's side. "My Lord, there's an army ahead!"

He Zhiping, who had just picked up a piece of fruit and was about to pop it into his mouth, froze. He quickly asked, "What kind of army? How many of them?"

The Dragon Lizardman replied, his expression grim, "The Undead. Millions of them."

The fruit dropped from his hand, splattering juice as it hit the floor. He Zhiping shot to his feet and exclaimed, "How many? Millions? Are you kidding me?"

He Zhiping found it impossible to believe. After all this time, after exploiting so many people and seizing so many resources, his own army was just over a hundred thousand strong. How could the Lord of the Undead Race, hidden away in a remote corner of the Wasteland, possibly have such a massive army?!