An Assignment and a Special Camp

Before long, a middle-aged man in armor, yet with the air of a scholar, entered the tent carrying a book, escorted by two personal guards.

"Lord Zhang!"

Everyone in the tent rose and greeted the newcomer respectfully.

The middle-aged man nodded, walked to the seat of honor, and sat down.

His name was Zhang Ci. He oversaw recruitment for all the camps in Cloudrise City and was also responsible for assigning the recruits. That was why everyone treated him with such respect.

After all, if they displeased him, he could stuff their ranks with crooked melons and cracked dates-worthless recruits who would give them no end of grief.

Zhang Ci placed the book on the table before him and slowly opened it.

Without wasting words, he began, "More than eight thousand people took yesterday's recruitment assessment."

"Three thousand one hundred and twenty-one had no cultivation but passed the physical test."

"Two hundred and thirty-eight had cultivation."

"Five hundred and sixty-nine possessed special skills."

"That makes three thousand nine hundred and twenty-eight in total."

At this point, Zhang Ci raised his head and looked around at everyone. "After accounting for previous losses, the main legion should currently have just over eight thousand men across its camps. These recruits will be enough to bring the entire legion back to full strength."

"Now, each of you will report how many replacements you need."

As soon as he finished, the tent fell silent. Everyone exchanged glances, and only their breathing could be heard.

Suddenly, one man stood. "Lord Zhang, I request two hundred replacements for my camp. I'm not asking for much. Half with cultivation and half ordinary soldiers will do."

Everyone turned toward the speaker, their eyes wide.

You bastard, your table manners are ugly enough. You want to gobble up that much all by yourself?

A moment later, another man stood. "Your camp only has seven hundred men, and you dare swallow that many recruits? Can you even stomach them?"

"If you ask me, that allocation would suit me perfectly. I command a reinforced thousand-man camp, and I'm short on men."

Another man seated nearby quickly shot back, "Reinforced camp, my ass. When the barbarians hit you in the rear, who was it that saved you? If you dare take that many, I dare swallow all the rest."

"You looking for trouble, bastard?"

"So what if I am? Forgotten those three hundred fine horses you owe me? You just decided not to pay up."

"Screw your grandmother! I haven't even settled the matter of you stealing my spoils!"

"Yeah, I stole them. What of it? You owed me!"

"Damn you! You want to have a go?"

"Then let's have a go!"

Just then, a clod of dirt flew from somewhere and struck one of them on the forehead.

The tent briefly fell quiet.

The clod did little damage, but the insult was immense.

The camp commander touched the dirt on his forehead. His face went from livid to black, then from black to red. Suddenly, he slammed the table. "So you want to throw things? Then nobody gets anything! I'll beat you to death today!"

His opponent showed no fear whatsoever and flipped the table over. "Then we're not doing this at all! I've put up with you long enough!"

In the blink of an eye, the two camp commanders collided and began brawling.

Their fight seemed to ignite everyone else's tempers. Friends of one side rushed in to help, and friends of the other side joined in as well.

One dragged in another, until more than thirty camp commanders were embroiled in a mass brawl.

At the seat of honor, Zhang Ci remained firmly seated at his table. He was even in the mood to pour himself some tea.

Beside him, one of his personal guards could not help asking, "My lord, aren't you going to stop them?"

Zhang Ci looked up, his expression showing that he had long since grown accustomed to this. "Why stop them? Let them fight. They do this every year when they meet."

"A little fighting does them good. It burns off a year's accumulated grudges and anger, so they can discuss things properly afterward. Otherwise, if we went straight into negotiations, believe me, we wouldn't settle this in a month."

The two personal guards were stunned. Apparently, there was even a rationale behind it.

Still, it made sense. To become a camp commander in a legion directly under the Marquis of Suppressing the North, one needed to have at least reached Innate.

If they truly fought in earnest, it would be nothing like this petty scuffle.

The guards could also see that these commanders were fighting purely hand to hand. None used true qi. It seemed they were simply burning off their anger.

Half an hour soon passed.

The brawl in the tent was nearing its end.

Those who wanted to keep fighting stood up and fought. Those who had had enough simply sat on the ground and watched.

Finally, when the last two commanders dropped onto their backsides, it was over.

Though their hands had stopped, their mouths remained busy.

"Damn it, who was vicious enough to bite my ass?"

One commander felt his backside and found a set of tooth marks.

But when he saw the man beside him, his curses stopped at once. Two patches of cloth had been torn from the other man's chest, exposing two...

"Laugh if you want."

The commander covering his chest glared at the flushed faces around him and spoke irritably.

"Hahahaha!"

At those words, everyone around him could no longer hold back their laughter.

Each of them had suffered some minor injuries, but nothing serious.

Then Zhang Ci's voice rang out. "Finished fighting? If you have, hurry up and put everything back in order, or you can forget about getting any recruits this time."

"I'll simply recommend that General Shen establish a few new camps instead."

Everyone immediately scrambled up and began tidying.

Before long, they were all seated in their places again, and the atmosphere in the tent was no longer as stiff as it had been at the start.

"All right."

Zhang Ci swept his gaze over them. "Now you'll all speak to me properly. Anyone who talks nonsense can get out."

Seeing that no one was bristling anymore, he continued, "Then, starting with the first person..."

Before he could finish, the tent flap lifted. A soldier ran in, hurried to Zhang Ci, and whispered something in his ear.

Zhang Ci looked startled, then nodded. "Invite him in."

After the soldier left, the flap was soon lifted again, and a young man who appeared to be in his early twenties entered.

Everyone present froze at the sight of him, then quickly rose.

"Deputy Captain Qi, what brings you here today?"

Zhang Ci stepped forward to greet him.

The young man cupped his fist. "Lord Zhang, I've come on an assignment."

"Oh? What assignment did General Shen give you?"

Zhang Ci immediately grew interested.

The young man looked at the others and said slowly, "I'm here to select a group of reserve personal guards for General Shen."

Everyone else froze at those words.

When they recovered, their expressions turned decidedly unpleasant.

He made it sound nice by calling it a selection, but he had really come to snatch their recruits.

Zhang Ci showed little reaction. He merely asked, "As I recall, General Shen's personal guard has always been in good shape. Why recruit so suddenly?"

The young man surnamed Qi answered frankly, "My master will soon be transferred away, and he'll be taking some men with him. This is to prepare in advance."

"Oh."

Zhang Ci looked surprised. "Why would he suddenly be transferred? Could it be..."

Suddenly, shock flashed in Zhang Ci's eyes as he looked at the young man before him. "Deputy Captain Qi, have you broken through?"

The young man smiled faintly. "I was fortunate enough to break through recently."

"Hah!"

Hearing the confirmation, Zhang Ci drew a sharp breath.

He had heard of this young man's illustrious achievements.

His name was Qi Sheng, and he came from the Imperial Capital Qi Family. Even in his youth, he had been a renowned genius in the Imperial Capital.

He had become a Xiantian Martial Artist at twenty. Only recently, he had still been at middle Innate, yet now he had already broken through to late Innate.

A twenty-three-year-old late Innate martial artist. No wonder his master was being transferred away. He was clearly making room for his disciple.

At that thought, Zhang Ci set aside his shock and said frankly, "General Shen's needs take precedence. Captain Qi, you may take your pick from this batch first."

His words had become noticeably warmer.

Someone who reached late Innate at twenty-three would surely attain the grandmaster realm in the future, and might even glimpse the heights of a Great Grandmaster. There was no harm in befriending such a man.

Besides, he had come on an assignment.

Once Zhang Ci spoke, the other commanders had nothing left to say.

They could afford to offend this young man surnamed Qi even less.

Though he was only a deputy captain in name, this was the personal guard, which accompanied General Shen at all times. His master was also its captain, a martial artist in the half-step grandmaster realm.

Forget these camp commanders-even some generals had to treat such a man courteously.

After all, who knew what things, appropriate or otherwise, might pass from his mouth to General Shen's ears?

Zhang Ci did not hold back. He handed Qi Sheng the book from his table.

Qi Sheng accepted without ceremony. Or rather, he had no need for ceremony.

Beside him, Zhang Ci asked, "How many reserve personal guards does General Shen need?"

Flipping through the book, Qi Sheng said, "My master will probably take eight guards with him, so I need eight reserves. Do you have any promising seedlings for me to choose from, Lord Zhang?"

Promising seedlings?

Zhang Ci thought for a moment, then said, "Speaking of promising seedlings, there really is one."

"What sort?"

"With physical strength alone, he could easily lift a five-hundred-jin stone weight with one arm."

"Oh!"

Qi Sheng looked surprised as well. If the man could lift a five-hundred-jin stone weight with one arm, his strength with both arms had to exceed a thousand jin. And that was pure physical strength. He certainly qualified as a promising seedling.

"What's his name?" Qi Sheng asked.

"Li Dao."

"Li Dao?"

Hearing the name, Qi Sheng could not help frowning.

Zhang Ci had been watching Qi Sheng closely. Noticing his reaction, he asked, "Is something wrong?"

Qi Sheng shook his head. "Perhaps I'm overthinking it."

It should just be someone with the same name. That wastrel who defiled Princess Mingyue is already dead.

At that thought, an inexplicable heaviness settled in his heart.

When he first saw Princess Mingyue in the Imperial Capital as a boy, her peerless beauty had stunned him. Ever since, he had been unable to forget her.

Besides his own talent, one reason he had reached late Innate at such a young age was his desire to improve his standing, so that one day he could draw closer to Princess Mingyue. He had even harbored ambitions of stealing a kiss from that fragrant beauty.

Yet before he could establish himself through great deeds, news arrived from the Imperial Capital that Princess Mingyue had been defiled.

Had Princess Mingyue married, he would not have been so furious.

Given His Majesty's love for Princess Mingyue, he would certainly have found her a man of matching status and distinguished standing. Qi Sheng could have accepted losing to such a man.

But the point was that Princess Mingyue had been defiled, and the culprit was a fallen third-rank earl, a useless wastrel.

For a time, he had been unable to reconcile himself to it.

In fact, he had only broken through to late Innate this time because he heard the news while cultivating. His fury sent him into cultivation deviation on the spot, leaving him no choice but to force a breakthrough.

Fortunately, luck had been on his side. With his master risking his life to help, he had successfully broken through. Otherwise, even if he survived, he would have been in a miserable state.

That only deepened his hatred of the wastrel Li Dao.

At the same time, deep in his heart, he also felt envy and jealousy.

Sometimes, he even wished he had been that wastrel. It would have been worth sacrificing his status as a young prodigy.

In short, hearing that name now left him deeply displeased, even if it merely belonged to someone with the same name.

Gathering his thoughts, Qi Sheng asked, "His physique is good. You could call him naturally gifted with tremendous strength. What about his cultivation? Has he ever cultivated?"

At that, Zhang Ci recalled the report from his subordinates and frowned. "He has no cultivation. I heard he said he was born unable to cultivate."

"Unable to cultivate?"

Qi Sheng frowned. "No. Strength alone isn't enough to serve as General Shen's personal guard. He must have cultivation."

"General Shen's guards will receive personal instruction from both General Shen and me. Their strength will improve within a short time."

"That Li Dao's natural strength is indeed impressive, but it can at most put him on par with a Houtian Martial Artist below third grade Houtian. To formally join the personal guard, one must be at least third grade Houtian."

"So a slightly poorer physique is acceptable, but cultivation talent must be good."

Hearing that, Zhang Ci could only find some other suitable candidates for Qi Sheng.

An incense stick's worth of time later.

After a careful selection, they finally found eight men who satisfied Qi Sheng.

Looking at the list in his hand, Qi Sheng nodded in satisfaction. "Sorry for all the trouble, Lord Zhang."

Zhang Ci shook his head. "No trouble. We're all working for General Shen."

"All right. I'll come collect them in a few days."

Qi Sheng was about to leave when something suddenly occurred to him, and he stopped.

Seeing this, Zhang Ci asked, "Is there something else, Deputy Captain Qi?"

Qi Sheng said frankly, "Nothing much. I just wanted to offer you a suggestion, Lord Zhang."

"Oh? What suggestion?"

"Didn't you mention a man named Li Dao who possessed tremendous natural strength?"

"I did. Is there a problem?"

Qi Sheng smiled faintly. "No problem. I simply feel that someone like him is a born battlefield warrior. Personally, I think a challenging place like the Yellow Sand Town Camp would suit him. What do you think, Lord Zhang?"

The Yellow Sand Town Camp?

Zhang Ci frowned. He knew a great deal about this camp. It too was directly subordinate to Shen Zhong, the Marquis of Suppressing the Far Realm, but it was a very special camp.

Even among all the camps housing Cloud Province's army of a hundred and fifty thousand, it had one of the highest death rates.

Of course, that did not mean its death rate was high because the camp was weak.

In terms of its soldiers' fighting prowess, Yellow Sand Town Camp actually ranked among the top ten of Cloud Province's hundred-plus camps.

The reason it was so formidable yet suffered such a high death rate was that most of its soldiers had been pushed out of other camps for making mistakes or refusing to submit to discipline.

Thus, Yellow Sand Town Camp had another name.

"Troublemaker Camp."

Eighty percent of the people in the camp were troublemakers, and the remaining twenty percent were troublemakers among troublemakers.

In short, it was a military camp full of contradictions.