Body Forging 7th Layer Peak

The month of scouting finally reached its last day.

When Li Jinshui led his squad back to the camp, the sky had already turned pitch black.

Er Gou and the other two followed behind him, their footsteps unsteady and their faces ashen, as if every ounce of strength had been drained from them. Yet, Li Jinshui walked at the front with a steady gait and even breathing, even having the spare energy to glance back before entering the camp gate.

In the direction of Eagle Beak Ravine, the dark, heavy mountains looked like crouching giant beasts.

"Go back and rest. Roll call tomorrow morning," he said.

Er Gou opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end, he only nodded and dragged his legs toward the barracks.

Over this past month, the three remaining members of Squad Jia had followed him out of the camp every single day, patrolling the mountain gullies. They had encountered Di People six times and fought five battles of varying sizes.

Er Gou had a new scar on his left arm, and Zhang Shuan'er's spot had been taken by his younger brother, Zhang Yishuan—Zhang Shuan'er had died in a skirmish on the eighth day, his throat pierced by a cold arrow from the Di People.

Li Jinshui stood where he was, watching them walk away, before turning to return to his own cramped barracks.

The door closed.

He did not light a lamp. Sitting cross-legged on his bed in the darkness, he pulled up his status panel:

[Name: Li Jinshui]

[Realm: Body Forging Seventh Layer (Peak)]

[Techniques: Iron Shirt (Seventh Layer 20/40), Wolf Killing Seven Forms (Entry 48/50), Tiger Walk (Minor Accomplishment 7/30)]

[Points: 1]

Two more points, and Iron Shirt would break through to the eighth layer.

Two more points, and the Wolf Killing Seven Forms would reach Minor Accomplishment.

Tiger Walk was already at Minor Accomplishment; with its short-range maneuvers, the power of those seven blade forms had increased by at least thirty percent.

This month, his suffering had not been in vain.

Five skirmishes, twenty-three enemy kills, including two tenth-rank commanders at the sixth layer of Body Forging and one hundred-rank commander at the seventh layer. He had poured all his points into his techniques and blade skills, forcibly pushing himself to the peak of the seventh layer.

He closed his eyes and circulated Iron Shirt, feeling the surging internal energy rushing through his meridians.

Body Forging seventh layer peak—he was only one step away from the eighth layer.

And only two layers away from the ninth.

And from that person—

He opened his eyes. He could see nothing in the darkness, but he knew that person lived in a barracks not far away, standing at the doorway every night to glance in this direction.

Wang Tiezhu.

For the past month, he had sent men to watch Li Jinshui from the shadows every day.

Li Jinshui knew, yet he pretended not to. Leaving the camp, patrolling, killing enemies, returning to camp, practicing, sleeping—every step was routine, every step was impeccable.

He was like a stone, letting others handle him, examine him, and trample him underfoot.

But only the stone itself knew what was hidden beneath it.

The next day, at the hour of Chen.

Drums thundered across the training grounds as the entire Third Battalion assembled.

Li Jinshui appeared in the ranks on time. The three remaining members of Squad Jia stood behind him, and though they were exhausted, they all held their heads high.

On the high platform, Battalion Commander Zhou Kui stood with his hands behind his back, clad in iron armor.

He was in his early forties with a swarthy face, a jagged scar running diagonally from his left eyebrow to the corner of his mouth. When he wasn't speaking, his mere presence felt like a mountain pressing down on the entire training ground.

Above Body Forging was the Inner Strength Realm, and above that was the Pulse-Opening Realm; such a person was already one of the top experts in North-Rejecting City.

Beyond that were the Origin-Opening Realm, capable of projecting true energy, and the Mystic-Penetration Realm, capable of flight; what lay beyond that, he did not know.

Li Jinshui had little access to information.

The Inner Strength Realm, as the name implied, involved tempering the internal organs, tendons, and bones. With blood and energy as full as a furnace, one could exert a thousand catties of force with a mere gesture. Ten men at the ninth layer of Body Forging surrounding an early-stage Inner Strength expert might not even be able to win.

Zhou Kui was in the Inner Strength Realm.

Moreover, it was said he was already at the mid-stage of Inner Strength, killing ninth-layer Body Forging practitioners as easily as slaughtering chickens.

"Listen up," Zhou Kui said. His voice was not loud, yet everyone heard it clearly, as if he were speaking right into their ears. "Scouts reported last night that a group of Di People, roughly three hundred strong, bypassed North-Rejecting City and headed west."

A deathly silence fell over the training ground.

Bypassed North-Rejecting City?

To the west were over a dozen villages, home to thousands of people—

"The latest news from this morning." Zhou Kui paused, the scar on his face seeming to deepen. "West River Village, Willow Ditch, and Blue Stone Ridge—those three villages are gone."

Gone.

The two words struck everyone's heart like a heavy hammer.

Everyone understood what it meant to be gone.

Li Jinshui stood where he was, his fingers curling slightly.

He recalled fragments of memory from the original owner of this body regarding a place called Blue Stone Ridge—after his parents died, he had once intended to go there to seek refuge with a distant relative, only to give up after hearing that the relative had long since moved away.

What if he had gone back then?

What if that relative hadn't moved?

Would he have ended up like those villagers, a charred corpse?

"The General has issued an order." Zhou Kui's voice pulled him back. "The Third Battalion is to mobilize in full to pursue these Di soldiers. I want to see them alive or dead. Not a single one is to escape."

"Yes!" A thunderous roar of compliance erupted across the parade ground.

Zhou Kui's gaze swept over the crowd. "This pursuit will be fraught with danger. Though the number of Di soldiers is small, anyone daring enough to bypass North-Rejecting City must be elite. This Camp Commander will not force anyone; those willing, step forward."

As his voice fell, the parade ground went silent for a moment.

Then, one person stepped out of the ranks.

Li Jinshui.

He did not hesitate, nor did he even think.

He had survived a month of patrols, reached the peak of the seventh level of Body Forging, and his blade technique was nearing perfection—he needed more points and faster breakthroughs. And the heads of Di soldiers were the best source of points.

What's more—

His peripheral vision swept toward a certain direction in the crowd.

Wang Tiezhu was standing there, watching him, a flash of surprise crossing his eyes.

Surprised by what?

Surprised that someone who had been bullied for a month would dare to throw himself into the jaws of death?

Li Jinshui retracted his gaze, expressionless, and stood in the front row.

Another person stepped out of the ranks.

Wang Tiezhu.

He strode forward and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Li Jinshui, eyes fixed straight ahead, as if he did not know the man.

Immediately after, soldier after soldier stepped out. Those at the ninth level of Body Forging, the eighth, the seventh... soon, those who had stepped forward accounted for more than half of the Third Battalion.

Zhou Kui nodded. "Good. Muster the troops; we depart in a quarter of an hour."

Fifteen minutes later, nearly five hundred men of the Third Battalion marched out of the camp gates, speeding westward.

Li Jinshui walked in the middle of the formation, the three men of Squad Jia following closely behind him. Er Gou leaned in and whispered, "Squad Leader, that Wang fellow went too... is he coming for you?"

Li Jinshui did not answer.

Whether he was coming for him or not, he did not know.

But he knew this was an opportunity.

Wang Tiezhu was at the peak of the ninth level of Body Forging, just one step away from entering Inner Strength. In a head-on fight, he had no chance of winning.

But the battlefield was chaotic, and blades had no eyes; who could say for sure whose hand someone died by?

He remembered the morning of the twelfth chapter, when Wang Tiezhu had blocked the barracks door, those eyes burning with the desire to kill him.

And that line: "One month, not a single day less."

He lowered his head, the corners of his mouth curling into a faint arc before smoothing out again.

The debt of a month—it was time to settle it.

The troop marched rapidly for two hours, crossing two mountain ridges, and finally arrived at their first destination: West River Village.

Li Jinshui stood at the entrance of the village, his footsteps coming to a halt.

The wind carried the scent of charred remains, thick and suffocating.

The village was gone.

It hadn't just been burned; it had been erased.

The ruins of houses were still emitting wisps of gray smoke, and corpses lay scattered everywhere—on the road, in courtyards, by the wells. There were old men, women, and children; the smallest one lay prone on the ground with an arrow stuck in its back, the shaft thicker than the child's arm.

The blood had already dried into dark, brownish patches, like dirty water splashed onto the ground.

Someone began to retch.

Someone gripped their sword hilt so hard their knuckles turned white.

Li Jinshui stood where he was, staring at the child lying on the ground, motionless.

He remembered his past life, on the way home from overtime, the truck that had slammed into him.

He also remembered this life, the smiling face of Li Jinbao as he was dragged out of his home.

To what extent could man kill man?

He did not know.

But he knew that the child lying on the ground would never need to know again.

"Search," Zhou Kui's voice came from the front, as cold as winter iron. "See if there are any survivors."

The soldiers fanned out, scouring the ruins and the corpses.

Li Jinshui stepped into the village.

His foot landed on something soft. He looked down; it was a severed hand, fingers curled as if trying to grasp something before death.

He stepped around the hand and continued forward.

When he reached the center of the village, he saw the old locust tree.

Seven or eight people were hanging from the branches—men, women, the old, and the young. The ropes had bitten deep into their necks, and their faces were swollen and distorted. The youngest among them looked less than twenty, their clothes not yet fully burned away, revealing large patches of charred flesh.

Li Jinshui stood beneath the tree and looked up.

The wind blew from the west, causing the corpses to sway gently, as if they were still struggling.

His fingers curled once more.

"Squad Leader..." Er Gou's voice came from behind, trembling. "Let's... let's go..."

Li Jinshui did not move.

He stood there, watching the swaying corpses for a long time.

Then he turned around, his face devoid of any expression.

"Move out."

The squad stayed in West River Village for a quarter of an hour, finding not a single survivor.

Zhou Kui gave the order: continue the pursuit.

As they left the village, Li Jinshui glanced back.

The old locust tree was still there, the corpses were still there, and the blue smoke was still rising.

He carved that image into his mind, as if engraving a tombstone.

Then he turned his head and strode forward.

Ahead lay Willow Ditch, Blue Stone Ridge, and three hundred Di soldiers.

Ahead lay the kill count, the breakthrough, the eighth and ninth levels of Body Forging, and—

He glanced at the back of Wang Tiezhu, who was walking in front.

The man walked with steady purpose, like a moving iron tower, each step planted firmly on the ground.

Li Jinshui withdrew his gaze, the corner of his mouth curling into that same arc.

The debt of a month was due to be settled.

Regardless of whether you are at the ninth level of Body Forging or the Inner Strength Realm, as long as there is an opportunity—

He would not let it go.

The squad vanished into the mountains.

Behind them, the blue smoke of West River Village continued to rise, wisp by wisp, like countless hands pointing in the same direction.

That direction was their direction.