A Martial King Takes the Field

Fortress No. 7, Command Headquarters.

At the end of the corridor, a pair of alloy doors stood tightly shut. Two fully armed guards stood outside, their auras steady.

This was no ordinary conference room.

Those permitted through these doors were either officers with real authority in the fortress or personnel specially approved by the front lines.

Even ordinary soldiers passing through the corridor would lighten their steps.

Li Zhengyang approached from the other end of the corridor, unhurried.

Yet the fluctuations of Blood Qi around him made the two guards instinctively tighten their grips on their guns.

One of them recognized him.

"Sergeant Major."

Li Zhengyang nodded without stopping.

The other guard had just been about to verify his identity when the man beside him nudged him with an elbow and whispered, "Don't stop him. He's the one newly assigned to the Edge-Breaking Sequence."

"The one from this morning?"

"Mm. Also the one from this afternoon."

The latter half was spoken very softly.

The one from this afternoon naturally referred to the news that had just spread from the logistics exchange office.

Thirty-six Fourth-Rank Rift Scorpions, and one Fifth-Rank peak Abyssal Giant Lizard.

Fortress No. 7 had no shortage of ruthless people, but there truly were not many who, on their first day reporting in, had plowed through the entire Northern Wilderness Rift Zone.

The heavy alloy doors slid silently apart.

Inside the vast circular conference room, the lights shone as brightly as day. At its center was an enormous holographic sand table simulating the terrain of the Northern Wasteland.

More than a dozen officers sat on either side of the sand table. Every one of them wore a crisp military uniform, their epaulets gleaming with metallic luster beneath the lights. The lowest-ranked among them was a major.

These were the true core of power within Fortress No. 7.

The instant Li Zhengyang stepped into the conference room, every conversation came to an abrupt stop.

More than a dozen gazes focused on him at once, locking onto him like searchlights.

Scrutiny, disdain, curiosity, and undisguised hostility.

A young man covered in blood and dressed in a disorderly uniform had simply barged into Fortress No. 7's highest-level combat conference.

Song Qing stood by the door. Seeing him like this, the muscles in her face twitched.

She had just submitted that "death report." The ink on the paper had not even dried when this man walked in covered in beast blood.

"Reporting! Sergeant Major Li Zhengyang of the Edge-Breaking Sequence, here to report for duty!"

Li Zhengyang's voice was not loud, but it was neither servile nor overbearing.

No one in the conference room replied.

Nor did Li Zhengyang wait for anyone to offer him an out. He walked on his own to an empty seat at the very end. It was the farthest from the head seat, and a temporary number was pasted to the chair back. It was obvious that it had been reserved for him.

At the head seat, Han Tieshan raised his eyelids.

No emotion could be read from his scarred face. He merely tapped the tabletop with his fingers.

"Li Zhengyang."

"Here."

"You arrived at the fortress at ten this morning. This meeting began at three in the afternoon. During those five hours, you went to the Northern Wilderness Rift Zone and paid a visit to the Abyssal Giant Lizard's territory while you were at it." Han Tieshan's voice was flat, as if he were stating something insignificant. "You killed thirty-six Fourth-Rank Rift Scorpions and one Fifth-Rank peak Abyssal Giant Lizard. You also 'unfortunately' lost two distinguished guests the Military Region Logistics Department had stuffed into the fortress."

The air in the conference room instantly grew colder.

The gazes several battalion commanders turned on Li Zhengyang already carried the look they gave a dead man.

A rookie had caused such a massive disaster on his first day here, and right before the commander-in-chief's eyes at that.

"Yes." Li Zhengyang answered crisply, without offering a single extra explanation.

"I read your report. It was very concise." Han Tieshan picked up the crumpled slip of paper. "You said they ignored your warnings and acted on their own. Do you have any evidence?"

"No," Li Zhengyang replied.

"So this is merely your side of the story?" A burly battalion commander beside him spoke up. His name was Zhao Meng, the commander of First Battalion, notorious for his explosive temper. He slammed the table and rose to his feet, pointing at Li Zhengyang's nose.

"Kid, do you think Command Headquarters is a game of house? The dead are from the Logistics Department. When the Military Region holds us accountable, who's going to carry the burden for you? A rookie fresh out of Fortress No. 13—do you really think winning a selection tournament means you can swagger through Fortress No. 7 sideways?"

Li Zhengyang finally showed some reaction.

He lifted his head and looked at Zhao Meng.

The instant he raised his head, an invisible pressure erupted from him and surged outward in every direction.

Zhao Meng's hand, which had been pointing at him, froze in midair. His face instantly flushed red. He felt as if an invisible mountain had crushed down on his chest, making even breathing difficult.

The Martial Sect Blood Qi within him circulated wildly as he tried to resist, but it was like a stream crashing against a dam, suppressed so completely that it could not move.

The other officers' expressions changed as well.

They were all Martial Sects, and they could most clearly sense the terror of that pressure.

This was not an aura a Martial Sect could possess!

Song Qing's face went deathly pale. She instinctively took half a step back, feeling as though she was not facing a person, but a primordial beast that had just awakened from its slumber.

Only Han Tieshan, seated at the head, remained steady.

But the fingers tapping the table had stopped. His eyes narrowed into slits, and the muscles beneath his scar twitched faintly.

A Martial King!

The thought exploded in his mind.

This kid was a Martial King?

No, his aura was unstable. It was as if he had only just broken through and still could not control it perfectly.

But that innate pressure could not be faked.

A twenty-year-old Martial King?

Those few words, dropped into any meeting of the Northern Frontier Military Region, would make a crowd of old men spring from their chairs.

Even more fatal was that this kid had only been a Fifth-Rank Martial Sect when he arrived that morning.

What had happened in between?

He sold materials, exchanged them for military merit, found a corner to sit in for a while, and then broke through?

Han Tieshan had seen geniuses, and he had seen madmen.

But a genius who was also a madman—this was his first time seeing one.

Li Zhengyang's gaze rested on Zhao Meng's face for two seconds before he slowly withdrew the aura he had released.

Thud.

It was as if Zhao Meng's bones had been pulled out. He collapsed back into his chair, gasping for breath, his forehead drenched in cold sweat. When he looked at Li Zhengyang again, only horror remained in his eyes.

"I'll say it again." Li Zhengyang's voice remained calm. "They went looking for death themselves. My mission is complete."

"Enough." Han Tieshan finally spoke, breaking the suffocating silence.

He gave Li Zhengyang a long, deep look before sweeping his gaze across the room.

"As for the deaths of Wang Dewen and Wang Ming, Li Zhengyang's report will stand. Close the case and file it."

Song Qing abruptly raised her head, her face full of disbelief.

"Commander!"

"This is an order." Han Tieshan's voice allowed no doubt. "Fortress No. 7 is a battlefield, not a resort. If you lack the ability yet insist on running around everywhere, then once you die, you should accept your fate."

Then his tone shifted as he looked at Li Zhengyang.

"Starting today, Li Zhengyang, you will be assigned to First Battalion."

He pointed at Zhao Meng, who was still slumped in his chair and gasping.

"You'll report to him."