Elder Brother Wang Tiezhu

The General's Mansion armory was hidden in a secluded courtyard in the north of the city. Four armored personal guards stood straight at the entrance, their gazes scraping over anyone who approached like blades.

Li Jinshui handed over his wooden token.

The guard inspected it, then stepped aside. "One quarter of an hour. If you exceed the time, it will be reclaimed."

The moment he stepped into the armory, Li Jinshui's breath hitched.

Wooden racks lining the walls were filled with weapons, their edges gleaming with a biting chill. In the corners, piles of well-maintained iron armor sat, while the innermost rows of racks were covered in dust, holding yellowed animal-hide scrolls that squatted there like silent veterans.

The old soldier guarding the armory didn't even look up, his voice languid. "Footwork on the left, saber techniques on the right. Register when you've chosen, and don't rummage through things."

Li Jinshui headed straight to the right.

He had already mastered the Army-Breaking Saber Technique to perfection, but those three forms were too crude. On the battlefield, how many times had he thought that if his saber technique had just a few more variations, that strike could have been faster, fiercer, and less taxing?

His gaze swept over the scrolls of animal hide: Mountain-Opening Saber Art, Thirty-Six Gale Slashes, Seven Blood-Battle Styles... Each name was more resounding than the last, yet he always felt something was missing.

It wasn't until a thin volume in the corner caught his eye.

The writing on the cover was blurred, but the four characters "Wolf Killing Seven Forms" were still legible. Beside it was a small note: An advanced version of the Army-Breaking Saber Technique. A method of slaughter; not to be practiced by those lacking courage and ferocity.

Li Jinshui opened it.

The first page contained only eight characters: Advanced version of the Army-Breaking Saber Technique.

Flipping further, every form was a killing blow.

Each form exuded a wildness, a relentless, life-or-death ferocity.

"This is it." Li Jinshui pulled out the booklet and turned toward the left.

The racks for footwork held far less, mostly shallow techniques for charging in military formations. Li Jinshui looked through them row by row until he saw the animal-hide scroll pressed at the very bottom.

Tiger Walk.

He opened the first page, and his eyes lit up: Tiger Walk is silent; Tiger Pounce covers a thousand miles. It was a technique for short-distance maneuvering and charging into enemy lines.

This was exactly what he wanted. On the battlefield, the greatest fear was being surrounded and unable to escape. With this footwork, he could advance to launch surprise attacks or retreat to dodge, moving in and out with ease.

"Chosen?" The old soldier opened his eyes to look, scribbling crookedly in his ledger. "Wolf Killing Seven Forms, Tiger Walk. Fine, get going."

Li Jinshui tucked the two booklets into his tunic and strode away.

His pace was a few notches faster than when he had arrived.

Back in the barracks, he sat cross-legged on his bed, took a deep breath, and opened the Wolf Killing Seven Forms.

Just as he finished reading the mnemonic for the first page, "Wolf Fang Bite," that cold, mechanical voice suddenly rang out in his mind—

[Advanced saber technique detected... Recording...]

[Recording successful: Wolf Killing Seven Forms]

[Host detected to have mastered Army-Breaking Saber Technique (Perfected), triggering inheritance link...]

[Wolf Killing Seven Forms proficiency +30]

[Wolf Killing Seven Forms: Novice (30/50)]

Boom—

A surge of heat welled up from his dantian, and at the same time, a flood of memory-images rushed into his mind:

In the wilderness, a pack of wolves hunted; the alpha wolf tore at the prey's throat, a single strike fatal, blood spraying three feet high;

On the snow, the wolf king pounced, a triple-tear strike as fast as lightning, the prey falling before it could even howl;

On a cliffside, a lone wolf faced a crowd of enemies, a single tail-sweep clearing the field, carving a bloody path through the opposition...

These images merged with his insights into the Army-Breaking Saber Technique. Li Jinshui closed his eyes, his right hand unconsciously mimicking the movements. One strike, two strikes, three strikes—the triple-slash of the Wolf Fang Bite gradually took shape in his hands. The blade sliced through the air, emitting a low, mournful wail like a wolf's howl.

A full hour later, he opened his eyes and let out a long breath.

The Wolf Killing Seven Forms had reached the Novice stage. His proficiency had shot straight to 30/50, only a step away from Minor Success.

He gripped the hilt, and the saber seemed to come alive, radiating a thirst for blood.

He opened the Tiger Walk.

[Recording successful: Tiger Walk]

[Tiger Walk: Not yet initiated (0/20)]

He was about to continue when Er Gou's loud voice came from outside: "Squad Leader! The mess hall is serving! There's stewed meat today, all you can eat! And wine, too!"

Li Jinshui put away his stance and pushed the door open.

The battle had been won, and the food was indeed different.

A crowd gathered around the campfire, the fat from the roasted whole lamb sizzling as it dripped onto the coals, the aroma mixing with the scent of wine and drifting far away.

Camp Commander Zhou Kui was personally wielding the knife, slicing off the fattest piece of leg meat and beckoning to Li Jinshui:

"Come over! You were the top contributor today; this piece is yours!"

Li Jinshui took the meat and bit into it. The skin was charred and crispy, the fat melting in his mouth, the savory saltiness mixing with the charred scent of the charcoal—it was the most decent meal he had eaten since coming to this world.

"Drink!" Zhou Kui shoved a bowl of wine into his hand. "The rule in North-Rejecting City is that after a victory, you have to get drunk. Even if you die tomorrow, you won't have any regrets!"

The veteran soldiers around roared with approval, their bowls clinking together in a rhythmic din.

"Squad Leader, if every day could be like this, wouldn't that be grand?" Er Gou wiped the grease from his mouth, his eyes shining bright.

Er Gou leaned in, half his face glowing crimson from the bonfire: "Squad Leader, how did you train that blade technique? That strike today—I was seven or eight paces away and still felt a chill run down my neck..."

Li Jinshui chewed his mutton without a word, while Zhang Shuan'er chimed in from the side: "What do you know? The Squad Leader is a natural-born killer; you'll never catch up to him in your entire life!"

"Go to hell!"

The two began to scuffle by the fire, and Zhou Kui laughed as he threw a mutton bone at them, the atmosphere so heated it felt as if the tent might catch fire.

Li Jinshui leaned against a wooden post, watching the group.

They didn't know if they would die tomorrow, or if they would have another meal, but tonight there was meat and wine, so they chose to laugh first.

On the way back to the barracks after eating, the sky had turned pitch black.

The camp was filled with soldiers who had eaten their fill, gathered in twos and threes to chat. Some were boasting about how many Di People they had killed, while others cursed the mess hall for the lack of meat; boisterous laughter drifted through the night wind.

Li Jinshui walked slowly, his stomach feeling warm and cozy, that long-lost sense of stability making his steps feel a little lighter.

As he turned the corner of the barracks, his footsteps suddenly faltered.

Seven or eight men stood in the open space ahead, the burly figure in the lead flickering in and out of the torchlight.

Wang Tiezhu.

He wore leather armor, a blade slung at his waist, his face full of thick, coarse flesh, his eyes as fierce as if he were about to devour someone. The wooden plaque on his chest, inscribed with the words "Squad Leader," glowed red in the firelight.

He was speaking to a few soldiers in a low voice, yet the sense of oppression could be felt from over a dozen paces away.

"Before my brother died, who did he have a conflict with? Think carefully, and make sure you're clear before you speak."

The soldiers turned pale, shaking their heads repeatedly: "N-no, Squad Leader Wang usually got along well with everyone..."

"Got along well?" Wang Tiezhu grabbed one of them by the collar, "Then how did he die on the city wall? Why was his blade in the hands of his own men?"

The man was so terrified he couldn't even speak properly: "I... I really don't know! It was too chaotic at the time, the Di People were surging up in waves, and it wasn't until we beat them back that we realized Squad Leader Wang had already... already..."

Wang Tiezhu let go, his gaze scraping across their faces like a blade.

Then, that gaze swept over and landed on Li Jinshui.

Their eyes met.

A torch popped and crackled.

Li Jinshui did not stop, did not turn his head, and did not even speed up or slow down his pace. He walked right past them, his stride as steady as if he had seen nothing at all.

He could feel that gaze clinging to his back, like a wolf stalking its prey.

It wasn't until he entered the barracks and closed the door that the gaze was finally shut out.

Li Jinshui stood behind the door, motionless.

After a long while, he slowly sat on his bed and pulled up his panel:

Technique: Iron Shirt (7th Layer 0/40), Wolf Killing Seven Forms (Entry 30/50), Tiger Walk (Not yet entered 1/20)

Realm: Body Forging 7th Layer

Points: 27

It still wasn't enough.

Body Forging 7th Layer against a peak 9th Layer was a gap of two stages.

Add to that the fact that the opponent was a seasoned veteran with rich combat experience, and his chances of winning a head-on clash were slim.

He had to be faster.

He lay down and closed his eyes.

In the darkness, Wang Tiezhu's wolf-like eyes still flickered before him.

But he was not afraid.

He was simply thinking—

Would that man named Wang Tiezhu, just like his brother, smile as he plunged a blade into someone else?

If so, then Li Jinshui wouldn't mind sending these two brothers to reunite in the underworld.

Outside the window, the night wind suddenly tightened, whipping the camp flags until they snapped, as if something were stirring in the shadows.