The Wandering Samurai and his Beloved General (BL)

Haruki and Lanling touched down softly, their descent so gentle it didn't even disturb the dirt beneath their feet.

Reluctantly, Haruki released the waist that had clouded his judgment, taking a half-step back to regain his composure. Yet inwardly, he couldn't help but think he'd trade anything for just a few more moments.

Kang Xi's face was noticeably paler than before. "General… why have you activated a high-grade imprisoning scroll?" His voice carried both confusion and a faint tremor of unease.

Lanling didn't dignify him with a response. Instead, his gaze shifted to the four advisors standing nearby. Three of them faltered under his scrutiny, their attempts to conceal their panic ranging from stiff expressions to poorly feigned indifference.

"It's good that we started early today," Lanling said, his voice calm and deliberate. "We can take our time unmasking the traitors in this encampment."

His words struck like a whip, shattering the advisors' attempts at composure. Grim expressions flitted among them, their masks of confidence crumbling. The usually languid tone that soldiers clung to on the battlefield now carried the chilling precision of a scythe poised to reap lives.

One advisor cracked under the pressure, his voice shaky. "Traitors? General, you must mean the people behind Xuzhan and Baili!"

Lanling, unfazed, turned casually to Haruki. "Do you see how effective this is? Corner the guilty, and they start yapping."

His pointed observation sent an unspoken signal. The veterans who had fought by Lanling's side for years needed no further instruction. In perfect unison, swords were drawn, the steely ring of their blades cutting through the tense air as they formed a tight circle around the advisors.

Kang Xi found himself unceremoniously shoved into the group, his protests ignored. Xuzhan and Baili were also surrounded, but the soldiers guarding them wore conflicted expressions, their skepticism apparent.

Haruki, sensing the shift, acted quickly.

A subtle wave of silent consensus seemed to spare him from suspicion, and he wasn't about to waste the opportunity.

"Hey, hey, put those swords down," he said, stepping forward with an air of confidence. "If you're that eager to point blades, aim them over there."

With calculated ease, Haruki 'guided' the soldiers, redirecting their hostility toward the advisors. Glances darted toward the general, but Lanling's lack of objection was all the approval they needed. One by one, the soldiers lowered their weapons, stepping away from Xuzhan and Baili and focusing entirely on the other side of the standoff.

"It must be the Entropy Mirage! The general has long been bewitched!" Kang Xi screamed in frantic protest.

"That's right! Kang Xi has been the general's right-hand man for three years! How can the general suddenly label him a traitor?!" one of the advisors quickly chimed in, desperate to salvage at least one of them.

"General," Kang Xi stepped forward boldly, despite the blades that surrounded him like a wall. "Will you truly believe the words of an outsider? I've protected your back with my life! How can you question my loyalty when we don't even know this man's origin?!"

His eyes burned with a mix of fury and betrayal, and his voice trembled with the weight of it all while he rudely pointed at Haruki.

No soldier with a clear conscience would want their loyalty questioned, and the tension was palpable as the soldiers' hands tightened on their blades, wavering slightly.

"Don't speak of loyalty so easily when you've sold yourself to the devil." There was a trace of sorrow in Lanling's voice, his gaze unwavering. "I feel incompetent for only realizing it yesterday."

At his words, a subtle signal passed between Lanling and the group of clerics and mages standing at the ready. In an instant, they summoned a torrential rain over the encampment. The first drop hit Kang Xi's face, and it sizzled like oil on fire.

"AAARRGH!" Kang Xi screamed, his body writhing in agony.

The chaos was immediate. Countless soldiers howled in pain as their true forms were forcefully ripped from their physical shells under the endless rain. Black mist poured from their bodies, and their skin cracked and peeled away, as if the very essence holding them together was being washed clean.

In a matter of minutes, the encampment was filled with grotesque, undead-like creatures, their unnatural forms shuffling through the disarray, their hollow eyes searching for victims in the midst of the turmoil.

It became apparent to everyone that the rain had been holy water all along. Their minds had cleared while the zombies writhed in pain.

Unmasking the traitors made it easy for the soldiers to act. Chaos descended on the field immediately as sword met sword and divine energy clashed with necrotic power.

A few minutes later, a chilling realization sent a cold shiver down the soldiers' spines— a third of their comrades were zombies.

Amidst the chaos, Haruki and Lanling's backs were against each other as they kept their circle clear, much like when they fought the crocodiles a week ago.

Haruki had never fought an undead creature before. When he struck, they didn't die. When he chopped off an arm, they simply carried it back, and after a moment, it was magically reattached. Even a patient person like him started to feel irritated.

"Decapitate them, then make sure they can't reach their heads," Lanling advised, scorching one of the advisor's heads into ashes with his lightning. It was only then that the body finally stopped moving. "The mages will clean them up later."

Haruki shuddered at their tenacity. "Got it!"

After a while, the soldiers were horrified to see floating heads above them, securely cradled by the wind. When a soldier tossed a head away from the prying hands of a zombie, the wind would guide it toward the pile, slapping away any headless zombie attempting to jump and reclaim their heads.

Though it greatly tested their mental fortitude, it proved very convenient.

Soon, soldiers would harvest a head and toss it into the air. Then, a group of mages would begin blasting it with fire before the pile could grow any larger.

The only thing they complained about was the deathly stench that made their stomachs churn.