Commander Li (Part 2)

The journey back to the camp was much slower than the way there.

The living supported the heavily wounded and carried the fallen, inching their way back step by step. Nearly five hundred men had set out, but fewer than two hundred returned, and a good portion of those could only walk with assistance.

Li Jinshui walked in the middle of the formation with Er Gou trailing behind him. He and Er Gou were all that remained of Squad Jia—Niu Er had died in the valley, his skull crushed by a Di soldier's mace.

Er Gou didn't speak the entire way, just walked with his head down.

Li Jinshui didn't speak either.

When the sky turned pitch black, the troop finally caught sight of the lights of North-Rejecting City.

Those flickers of light swayed in the darkness, dimming and brightening as if they might go out at any moment, yet they remained lit, burning steadily.

Someone began to sob in a low voice.

Someone knelt on the ground, kowtowing toward the city walls.

Li Jinshui stood where he was, watching those lights, his face devoid of any expression.

Three hours later, he lay back in his cramped barracks room.

The door was shut, the lamp unlit, and the surroundings were plunged in darkness.

He kept his eyes open, staring at the ceiling, not moving a muscle.

From next door came the faint sound of Er Gou's snoring—the kid was exhausted and had fallen into a dead sleep the moment he returned.

In the distance, there were the groans of wounded soldiers, the coughing of old veterans, and the snapping of camp flags in the night wind.

He listened for a while, then closed his eyes.

Tomorrow, there would be tomorrow's troubles.

But for tonight, he just wanted to lie still.

The next day, at the hour of the dragon.

Drums thundered across the parade ground as the entire Third Battalion assembled.

All the living were present; the heavily wounded were carried in, and the lightly wounded limped their way over. The fallen would never come again, but their spots remained, empty and gaping like rows of toothless mouths.

Zhou Kui stood on the high platform, his body wrapped in bandages, that scar on his face appearing exceptionally ferocious under the sunlight.

He scanned the crowd below, his gaze sweeping over every face before he spoke:

"In yesterday's battle, one hundred and forty-two men of the Third Battalion died."

The parade ground was so quiet one could hear the wind whistling past their ears.

"They were all good men," Zhou Kui continued. "Their names will be carved onto the Loyalty Monument. Their families will receive pensions."

He paused, his voice dropping:

"Those who are alive should also remember—you are alive because someone died in your place."

No one spoke.

Li Jinshui stood in the ranks, head bowed, staring at the dirt beneath his feet.

Among those who died in their place was Wang Tiezhu.

The man who had wanted to kill him.

He didn't know how he should feel, so he simply chose not to think at all.

Zhou Kui's voice continued:

"Among the fallen brothers, there was a decurion, Wang Tiezhu."

Li Jinshui looked up.

Zhou Kui's gaze happened to sweep over, lingering on his face for a split second before moving away.

"The position of decurion is now vacant."

A buzz of low discussion erupted across the parade ground.

A decurion.

That was a position in the Third Battalion second only to the battalion commander and the sentry leader. The monthly stipend was doubled, twenty catties of meat, three Blood-Qi Pills, and the privilege of living in a private barracks room.

More importantly, one could enter and leave the camp freely and go into the city to enjoy life.

Who wouldn't want that?

"By the old rules," Zhou Kui raised a hand to suppress the noise, "compete to seize the position. Anyone at the seventh level of Body Tempering or above may sign up. Three days from now, on the parade ground arena, the winner takes all."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the crowd:

"This time, only one will be chosen. Those who sign up, think clearly before you come. Swords and spears have no eyes on the arena; if you are killed or injured, you bear the consequences yourself."

As his words fell, the parade ground went silent for a moment before exploding into chaos.

Li Jinshui stood where he was, not moving.

He could feel several gazes landing on him from the surroundings.

Some were sizing him up, some were sneering, and others were whispering to one another.

"Can someone at the seventh level of Body Tempering really sign up? Isn't Li Jinshui at the seventh level?"

"Him? Does he dare? A seventh-level Body Tempering going up against a ninth-level? That's just asking for death."

"I heard he saved Old Zhou and Xiao Sun, but so what? The arena isn't a patrol. When it comes to real blades and genuine combat, what does he have to win with?"

"Stop talking. At the very least, he killed over thirty Di People. Do you dare to do that?"

"Killed over thirty? That was on the city walls with others shielding him. In a one-on-one duel in the arena, how many moves can he even last?"

Li Jinshui didn't speak; he merely glanced at them.

Then, he turned around and walked toward the barracks.

"Squad Leader!" Er Gou chased after him. "Where are you going?"

"Back to sleep."

Li Jinshui didn't look back.

Registration began that afternoon.

Li Jinshui didn't go.

The next day, he still didn't go.

On the morning of the third day, Er Gou came running back from outside. "Squad Leader! Registration is about to close! There are already nine people signed up, and they are all at the ninth level of Body Tempering!"

Li Jinshui was practicing his blade.

He stood in the open space behind the barracks, repeating the simplest movements over and over—hacking, chopping, lifting, and slashing.

The Wolf Killing Seven Forms had already reached great completion, yet he continued to practice, grinding away repeatedly as if he were just starting to learn the blade.

The blade edge sliced through the air, emitting low, mournful whimpers, like a wolf growling in the distance.

Er Gou stood to the side, watching him, pacing in circles with anxiety, yet he dared not speak again.

Li Jinshui finished the final strike, sheathed his blade, and turned around.

"Let's go."

Er Gou was stunned. "Go where?"

"To register."

The registration desk was set up outside the battalion commander's main tent, consisting of a long table, a ledger, and an old soldier holding a brush.

When Li Jinshui walked over, a crowd had already gathered, all there to watch the spectacle.

The old soldier looked up at him and opened the ledger. "Name, cultivation level."

"Li Jinshui, eighth level of Body Tempering."

As the words fell, the surroundings suddenly went quiet.

Eighth level of Body Tempering?

Wasn't he at the seventh level?

Li Jinshui remained expressionless, waiting for the old soldier to write it down.

The old soldier paused for a moment, then lowered his head and wrote "Li Jinshui, eighth level of Body Tempering" in the ledger.

"Done. Tomorrow morning at the hour of the dragon, the arena at the drill ground. Don't be late."

Li Jinshui nodded and turned to leave.

After walking a dozen steps, a scoff suddenly came from behind him:

"Eighth level of Body Tempering? And he dares to come? I thought he was something impressive."

Li Jinshui didn't stop his pace.

Another voice rang out: "Kid, the arena isn't a patrol. No one is behind you to block blades for you. Think clearly before you step onto that stage—missing arms or legs is far worse than dying."

Li Jinshui still didn't stop.

Er Gou followed behind him, his face flushed red with anger, yet he dared not utter a sound.

Not until they were far away did Er Gou manage to choke out a sentence: "Squad Leader, those people..."

Li Jinshui raised a hand to stop him.

"Let them talk."

He continued walking forward, the corners of his mouth curling into a slight arc.

Ninth level of Body Tempering?

Nine people at the ninth level of Body Tempering?

Perfect.

He needed a whetstone.

The harder the whetstone, the sharper the blade it hones.

The next day, at the hour of the dragon.

The drill ground was a sea of people.

Almost everyone from the Third Battalion had arrived; even those with severe injuries were carried in, squeezed into the crowd to watch the spectacle.

In front of the high platform, a three-foot-tall ring had been erected, its surface covered with thick wooden planks and surrounded by colorful flags.

On the ring, a dark-faced man was loosening his muscles, unreservedly releasing the blood-energy pressure of a ninth-level Body Tempering expert, making those below the stage struggle to breathe.

"That's Zhao Tieniu! A veteran ninth-level of the Third Battalion, just one step away from entering the Inner Strength realm!"

"I heard he killed two Di People centurions last year; he's vicious!"

"Who's going to fight him?"

Those who had signed up took the stage one after another.

The first was a ninth-level Body Tempering expert wielding a pair of iron hammers, the heads of which were larger than his own head. After stepping onto the stage, he cupped his fists toward the crowd: "Who's next?"

Zhao Tieniu stepped forward: "I'll take you."

The two exchanged fewer than ten blows before the hammer-wielder was struck in the chest by Zhao Tieniu's fist, sent flying off the stage, and spat out blood.

The second to take the stage was also a ninth-level Body Tempering expert, wielding a long spear. His spear technique was fierce, like a venomous dragon emerging from its cave, forcing Zhao Tieniu to retreat repeatedly.

Yet after twenty moves, Zhao Tieniu took a spear strike head-on, charged into the opponent's guard, snapped the spear shaft with one punch, and landed a second punch on the man's face—the man was covered in blood and passed out instantly.

The third, the fourth, the fifth...

Zhao Tieniu fought five people in a row, winning four matches and losing one—he lost to a dual-blade wielder whose blades were too fast; he couldn't dodge in time, took a hit, and lost the round.

But the dual-blade wielder didn't fare well either, being defeated by a staff-wielder in the very next match.

People on the stage changed one after another, and the crowd below watched with boiling blood, their cheers shaking the heavens.

Li Jinshui stood below the stage, motionless, watching every bout on the platform.

He was memorizing.

Memorizing everyone's techniques, everyone's flaws, and everyone's habits.

Er Gou was beside him, rubbing his hands in anxiety: "Squad Leader, when are you going up? If you don't go soon, there won't be anyone left to fight!"

Li Jinshui said nothing.

On the stage, a burly man wielding a saber had just won a match and was standing there panting, his gaze sweeping across the crowd until it suddenly landed on Li Jinshui.

He grinned, his voice loud enough for the entire field to hear:

"That eighth-level Body Tempering kid, why haven't you come up yet? Scared?"

The whole crowd erupted in laughter.

Countless gazes turned in unison toward Li Jinshui.

Er Gou's face turned pale.

Li Jinshui remained expressionless, walking toward the ring step by step.

The crowd automatically parted to make a path.

He reached the edge of the stage, leaped lightly, and landed on the platform.

The burly man looked him up and down and laughed even harder: "Eighth-level Body Tempering? Are you sure you aren't here to throw your life away?"

Li Jinshui looked at him and spoke:

"You've fought three matches, won two, and lost one. You lost that one because you were greedy for merit and rushed in, wanting to finish your opponent with a single strike, only to have your weakness exploited."

The smile on the burly man's face froze.

Li Jinshui continued: "When you stand, your left foot bears more weight than your right, which means you have an old injury in your right leg. You used your right hand for that last strike, but now your right hand is trembling slightly; you're exhausted."

The burly man's complexion changed completely.

The crowd below suddenly fell silent.

Li Jinshui slowly drew his military saber.

"You can't fight anymore," he said. "Send someone who can."

The burly man's face turned the color of liver, and with a roar, he swung his saber and lunged!

Li Jinshui did not move.

He was waiting.

Waiting for that blade to descend to three feet above his head—

Then, he moved.

Tiger Walk · Tiger Pounce!

His entire body was like a bolt of lightning, instantly closing the distance into the burly man's guard! His left hand rose to block the descending blade, while his right hand flashed with a blade of light—

Wolf Killing Seven Forms · Wolf Fang Bite!

One strike, two strikes, three strikes!

All three strikes landed on the burly man's blade, yet each was faster and heavier than the last! When the third strike fell, the burly man's weapon flew from his hand, and he stumbled backward, landing hard on his backside.

The entire arena fell into a deathly silence.

Li Jinshui sheathed his blade and looked down at the man sitting on the ground.

"Next."

The burly man scrambled up and slunk off the stage in disgrace.

Suddenly, a thunderous roar of cheers erupted from the crowd!

"Bravo!!!"

"That was too fast! I couldn't even see it!"

"Eighth Layer of Body Tempering? Is this really the eighth layer?"

Li Jinshui remained expressionless, standing on the stage as his gaze swept over the remaining few at the Ninth Layer of Body Tempering below.

"Who's next?"

The first to step up was the one wielding twin blades.

He was slight of build, but his movements were incredibly swift; his twin blades danced into two spheres of white light, attacking from every direction.

Li Jinshui did not meet the force head-on.

Utilizing the Tiger Walk to its full extent, he wove through the blade light like an agile leopard, narrowly dodging every strike as if dancing on the very tips of the blades.

Thirty moves passed, and sweat began to bead on the forehead of the twin-blade wielder.

His blades were fast, but Li Jinshui was faster.

Furthermore, after every dodge, Li Jinshui would return a strike—not a heavy one, but one that landed precisely on his opponent's opening, forcing him to retract his blades to defend.

"Are you going to fight or what?" the twin-blade wielder snapped, losing his composure as he unleashed both blades in a full-force assault!

This was exactly what Li Jinshui had been waiting for.

With both blades committed, the center was left wide open!

Tiger Walk: Tiger Pounce!

He slammed into the opponent's guard, his left hand seizing the man's right wrist, while the blade in his right hand—

Wolf Killing Seven Forms: Wolf Thrust!

The tip of the blade stopped half an inch from the man's throat.

The twin-blade wielder froze.

The entire arena froze with him.

Li Jinshui sheathed his blade and took a step back.

"You lost."

The man stared at him blankly, then gave a bitter laugh, cupped his fists, and stepped off the stage.

Below, an even more intense roar of cheers erupted!

But Li Jinshui did not smile.

He turned and looked at the final person standing off the stage.

That man had not moved the entire time, standing in the furthest corner of the arena, watching everything on stage with cold eyes.

Ninth Layer of Body Tempering, peak stage.

His vitality was far stronger than anyone who had come before him.

His name was Qin Lie, a veteran of the Third Battalion who had served for ten years and killed countless enemies. It was said he should have been promoted to squad leader long ago, but he had always been overshadowed by Wang Tiezhu and had been waiting for his chance.

Now that Wang Tiezhu was dead, his chance had arrived.

Qin Lie walked slowly onto the stage, each step causing the platform to tremble slightly.

He stopped three paces in front of Li Jinshui.

"You can certainly fight," he said, his voice low, like stones grinding against the ground. "But you've fought three matches. You're tired."

Li Jinshui looked at him without speaking.

Qin Lie continued, "I haven't fought a single match; I am at my peak. What will you use to beat me?"

Li Jinshui finally spoke:

"My blade."

Qin Lie paused, then laughed.

It was the kind of laugh that sent a chill down one's spine.

He slowly drew the blade at his waist—a thick-backed heavy saber, more than twice the weight of a standard military weapon.

"Fine," he said. "Then let's see you try."

The two stared at each other.

The air on the arena seemed to solidify.

Below the stage, everyone held their breath, not daring to let out a sound.

Li Jinshui's hand gently tightened around the hilt of his blade.

A panel glowed faintly in the corner of his vision:

[Technique: Iron Shirt (8th Layer 3/45), Wolf Killing Seven Forms (Grand Completion), Tiger Walk (Minor Completion 24/30)]

[Realm: Body Tempering 8th Layer]

He was still six points away from bringing his footwork to Grand Completion.

But he had no points left.

He only had the blade in his hand.

Qin Lie moved.

The moment he moved, it was like a mountain collapsing!

That blade cleaved down, carrying the sound of wind and thunder, splitting even the air itself!

Li Jinshui did not meet it head-on.

Tiger Walk! Sidestep! Dodge!

The blade's edge grazed past his ear, the wind it kicked up stinging his cheeks!

With his first strike missing, Qin Lie's second followed immediately in a horizontal sweep!

Li Jinshui ducked! Dodge!

Third strike, a cleave!

Fourth strike, an upward slash!

Fifth strike, a thrust!

Strike after strike, fast as lightning, heavy as a collapsing mountain!

Qin Lie's blade technique had no frills, only the simplest of moves, yet every strike was tempered a thousand times, and every strike aimed for a vital point!

Li Jinshui was forced to retreat again and again, able only to dodge and weave, finding absolutely no opportunity to counterattack!

Below the stage, some began to sigh.

"It's over, this Li Jinshui can't hold on."

"Qin Lie is too strong; he's simply no match for him."

"To have lasted this long is already quite impressive."

Er Gou, down below, was so anxious his eyes turned red, and he shouted at the top of his lungs: "Squad Leader! Keep going, Squad Leader!"

Li Jinshui could not hear him.

His entire focus was on the blade before him.

Dodge!

Dodge again!

Dodge once more!

But he knew that if this continued, it would not end well.

Qin Lie's blade momentum grew fiercer, and his own footwork grew slower—if he dodged ten more moves, twenty more, there would eventually come a time when he could not dodge.

He had to. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the instant Qin Lie's left foot landed.

In that split second, Qin Lie's center of gravity shifted slightly to the right.

A flaw!

It wasn't a major opening, just a shift of a thousandth of a second, but for him—

It was enough!

Tiger Walk: Tiger Pounce!

He no longer dodged, instead throwing his entire body toward Qin Lie!

A flash of surprise crossed Qin Lie's eyes, but there was no time to think as he brought his blade down!

Two figures collided violently!

"CLANG—!!!"

The sound of metal clashing was deafening!

Below the stage, everyone's eyes widened!

As the dust settled, the two stood face to face, their blades locked against each other, neither moving.

Li Jinshui's blade had held off Qin Lie's.

Yet Qin Lie's blade was only three inches from his neck.

Qin Lie looked at him, a complex emotion flashing through his eyes.

"Why... didn't you dodge just now?"

Li Jinshui did not speak.

He simply looked at Qin Lie, the corners of his mouth slowly curling into an arc.

That smile sent a chill down Qin Lie's spine.

He suddenly realized something and looked down—

Although Li Jinshui's blade was parrying his own, the tip was pointed directly at his heart.

If he had pushed forward even an inch more, that blade would have pierced his heart first.

"I dodged for twenty moves," Li Jinshui said, his voice so soft that only the two of them could hear, "just to wait for this strike."

Qin Lie was silent for a long time.

Then, he laughed.

It was not a cold laugh, nor a bitter one; it was a smile of relief.

"Good," he said. "You win."

He sheathed his blade, took a step back, and cupped his fists.

"This Qin admits defeat."

The entire arena fell into a deathly silence.

Then, a thunderous, mountain-shaking roar of cheers erupted!

"Li Jinshui!!!"

"Li Jinshui!!!"

"Li Jinshui!!!"

Countless people shouted the same name until their voices grew hoarse!

Down by the stage, Er Gou was laughing and crying at the same time, grabbing the person next to him and shaking them frantically: "He won! The Fifth Squad Leader won! He won!"

Li Jinshui stood on the stage, listening to the deafening cheers, his face devoid of any expression.

He lowered his head and looked at the blade in his hand.

There was a thin crack along the edge of the blade.

It had been left behind when he forcefully blocked Qin Lie's strike earlier.

He sheathed his blade and turned to walk off the stage.

Behind him, the cheering continued.

But he walked quickly, never looking back.

Returning to the barracks, he closed the door, sat on his bed, and pulled up his panel:

[Technique: Iron Shirt (8th Layer 3/45), Wolf Killing Seven Forms (Grand Completion), Tiger Walk (Minor Completion 29/30)]

[Realm: Body Tempering 8th Layer]

[Points: 0]

He was only one point away from bringing his footwork to Grand Completion.

He stared at that "29/30" for a long time.

Then he stood up, pushed open the door, and walked to the open space behind the barracks.

Under the moonlight, he began to practice his footwork.

One step, two steps, three steps.

Once, twice, three times.

Sweat soaked through his clothes, but he was completely unaware.

The moonlight grew brighter, and his footsteps grew faster, gradually blurring into a vague shadow—

Suddenly, he stopped.

Something within his body loosened.

[Tiger Walk proficiency +1]

[Proficiency full]

[Tiger Walk: Minor Completion → Grand Completion]

A surge of heat flooded into his legs; it felt as if the sandbags that had been tied to his legs were suddenly removed, making his entire body as light as a feather.

He gave a light leap and actually soared over ten feet high!

When he landed, it was silent and soundless, like a true tiger.

Li Jinshui stood under the moonlight, clenching his fists.

Body Tempering Eighth Layer, Blade Technique Great Success, Footwork Great Success.

He raised his head, looking toward the direction of North-Rejecting City.

The lights there were still burning.

Those people were still sleeping.

He did not know if those people would have nightmares.

But he knew—

Soon, they would see a true nightmare.