Run!
No stopping!
By the small river at the foot of Linguan Fortress, a hundred soldiers jogged under the urging of Yang Zhengshan and the others.
They wore thin short shirts, every one of them drenched in sweat and gasping heavily.
"You are soldiers. One day, you will go to the battlefield!"
"The stronger you are on the battlefield, the better your chances of surviving!"
"More sweat, less blood!"
"It is always better to sweat now than bleed after reaching the battlefield!"
Yang Zhengshan followed behind the ranks, running as he shouted.
He held a short stick in his hand. Anyone who fell behind received a very merciless strike.
There were no exceptions. Even Yang Chengze and the others had to face his stick.
After half an hour of morning running, the soldiers returned to the fortress for breakfast. Afterward, it was just the hour of the Dragon—seven in the morning—and the hundred soldiers stood in neat ranks on the Training Ground once more.
"Not bad at all. Compared with half a month ago, you can now be considered a motley rabble!"
"Your bodies have grown stronger, and your strength has increased!"
Yang Zhengshan strolled leisurely through the ranks, occasionally reaching out to pat a soldier on the shoulder.
"You must understand that the real training has only just begun. The hard days are still ahead!"
He grinned. "I am about to put you through hellish tempering. Are you ready?"
The basic training had ended. What came next was the devilish training Yang Zhengshan had devised.
As for the training content, it was modeled after special forces.
Even if he had never eaten pork, had he not at least seen a pig run?
"Mingwu, Mingzhi! Distribute the weapons and equipment!"
Until now, these soldiers had not even touched a weapon.