A powerfully built general strode out.
He looked to be in his early fifties. The wind and frost had carved deep lines into his face, his uniform did not have a single crease, and the general's stars on his shoulders gleamed.
He swept his gaze around, then fixed it on Lin Shigong at the entrance to the Vault.
He strode over and stopped in front of Lin Shigong.
Snap.
A textbook military salute.
"Zhou Shan, commander of the Second Division of the Arctic Theater, reporting as ordered to provide support."
He lowered his hand and looked at the city lord before him, with his disheveled hair, bloodshot eyes, and unshaven face.
There was no condescension in his gaze, only the respect shared between comrades in arms.
"Comrade, thank you for your hard work."
"Leave the rest to us."
Lin Shigong returned the salute, his lips moving.
He wanted to say something, but in the end, no words came out.
An immense sense of security and a surge of hot blood overwhelmed him.
At that moment, the tension he had held for an entire day finally eased.
Inside the Vault, the technicians, staff officers, and information officers watched their comrades streaming out beyond the door.
Someone took off their glasses and wiped them. The lenses were completely fogged over.
Someone released their grip on a keyboard, their finger joints cracking.
Someone turned away, shoulders trembling, without making a sound.
The Portal's blue light still shone.
Soldiers kept pouring out, squad after squad.
Their footsteps merged, like drumbeats, like heartbeats, like the pulse of this dying city beginning to beat again.
Zhou Shan turned to face his troops and raised his voice.
"All division personnel, hear my orders!"
"Coordinate with Tianxiong City's existing defenses and take full control of every combat sector!"