Of course, Qian Ye would never allow the Expeditionary Force the luxury of an orderly retreat. Even as the enemy officers strove their utmost to regroup the scattered forces and maintain formation during the withdrawal, still, they could not halt Qian Ye’s relentless pursuit. Striking time and again, each time he surged forward, soldiers toppled lifeless to the ground. At this moment, Qian Ye was akin to a winter wolf stalking prey, constantly snapping at its flanks, tearing chunks of flesh from it at intervals, and thus each wound continued to expand bit by bit.
It was only when Qian Ye neared the outskirts of the town that he became aware of several sniper rifles locking onto him. Only then did he abandon the chase and withdraw inside.
Thick smoke billowed in the small town as raging fires still burned among ruined rubble. The two guard captains strode toward him, their clothes soaked in blood—whether enemy or their own’s blood was unclear. Their fighting spirit, however, was significantly stronger. Eyes ablaze with raging fire burned passionately beneath their gazes and their stares now held something new compared with before.
Qian Ye clearly understood the nature of that stare—it was reverence and admiration, even a form of worship toward an unrivaled power, a mighty presence. From this moment on, Qian Ye really began to earn the heartfelt respect of the two guard captains.
A sudden jolt passed through Qian Ye’s mind. His realization tore through the fog like lightning—this very instant, he suddenly grasped his fundamental problem. On this battlefield, he could no longer act alone as a soldier or be the lone warg; instead, he had to become the commanding force leading every corner of the battlefield himself.
When maximizing personal kills was the focus, there had been no mistake in Qian Ye’s choice; long-range snipers naturally operated independently, and only when they chose positions autonomously in most cases would they unleash their true potential. But in a battlefield commander’s role, a crucial need emerged: he had to place himself where his underlings could witness it; where they could trust and rally behind the undeniable presence that the leader still stood alongside them.
Previously in Regiment 131, this situation differed. They had been a hardened company forged from endless campaigns; Officers like Bao Zhengchen were strong nodal points, field tacticians refined from countless joint skirmishes into capable local commanders within the ranks of seasoned battle-brothers, and the product of uncountable trials together forged that trust. But Qian Ye’s force was a hastily thrown-together ensemble lacking not only deep cohesion, battlefield chemistry accumulated from past endeavors was practically nonexistent either—which is where they desperately required a forceful on-the-ground commander.
Wu Patian was clearly best suited for that critical role—Qian Ye had personally witness Wu during dark-bled battles in City Deepshadow, and observed his leadership during the spring war games of Ten Mysteries. His style of leading men into enemy positions with an almost reckless front-line valor, with the swagger to announce himself as the unshakable fulcrum upon an entire battlefield—it was no question Wu thrived best guiding head-to-head assaults in brutal open terrain. Observing Wu’s standing and reputation even among his revered fallen comrades within the maimed angel unit left one with no room for doubt.
Meanwhile Qian Ye himself had trained in martial killing arts within realms both Hellgate and Crimson Claws, while upon Eternal Night’s continent, guerrilla-style hunting was second nature—but a new reality today challenged him for this was warfare beyond a single assassin’s shadow, where turning an outnumbered defense into a battle capable of overcoming odds required something more: a critical need to maintain troops’ morale meant it fell entirely upon his shoulders to lead in person at the frontline and pierce straight through the opposition’s frontlines.
That’s where lay distinction between mere soldiering and commanding as a general—it was the epoch where strong men stood triumphant, the era was forged solely in dominance of mighty ones.
Yet it was since the instant he hurled out the raw vampiric Primordial Bomb, when he exploded across the battlefront’s blood-soaked theater as an unmatchable force, slaying any foe with ruthless swiftness—ensuing from lieutenant to major—all struck down within an instant! Every single killing strike crushed further enemy’s battle spirits, while galvanizing our allies beyond reckoning.
Eventually, the Expeditionary Army’s first campaign had been broken and driven back.
In addition to the two captains, the elite soldiers—those “seedlings”—began gathering around Qian Ye as well. Though originally selected solely for command training before, following this harrowing battle they had all become de facto heartbeats anchoring their respective units, some senior combat veterans even started assembling survivors the moment fighting ceased.
Scant words came from Qian Ye. His command remained brief:—”Conduct casualty counts immediately. Re-establish defense lines, be sure every able fighter gets full battle loads of weapons.”
His eyes swept the dead-strewn terrain filled with bodies of Expedition troops lying amidst blood-soaked soil, as all dispersed to enact these orders.
Alone upon the fractured stoneware turret overlooking ruined village ramparts, Qian Ye gazed afar observing retreating forces; they retreated nearly a mile before beginning to form new lines. The opposing general knew Qian Yan’s hawkshot range intimately enough to fear—only beyond those distant limits did they dare risk reorganizing under cover of distance.
His eyes remained fixed upon that field battalion lieutenant colonel near their formation front, as at this great distance his modified personal variant of the Hawken could theoretically still reach across voids to pierce flesh. In this open expanse, however, too expansive a gap allowed his target sufficient time to evade and escape danger.
“Aiya, sir…you’re wounded sir…!” Spoke hesitating voice—trembling with young uncertainty.
Qian Ya glanced back; there stood a teen recruit girl whose dirty soot-swept tears-streaked young face failed utterly to mask native attractiveness buried briefly beneath gore.
Following that girl’s horrified pointing gesture downward, Qian Ya’s own glance revealed a pool of blood had blossomed along mid-torso; a ghastly wound still oozed blood, which surprised him for the pain had dulled to almost negligible levels.
He barely recalled receiving when this scar appeared—perhaps during his fearless surge beneath hail volleys through the central square’s assembling shock-troopers or maybe even from some coward’s rear-shot during chaotic withdrawal. Focusing primordial energies within revealed something sinister still clinging: a residual chilling priming essence hindering blood regeneration around his wound’s edges.
The shooter responsible, unmistakably, possessed a peculiar ability too. These strange frozen essences weren’t common, and during combat, were extremely potent. Such an opponent, if time and nurture awaited, could very well bloom into great power. But tragically that fate met Qian Ya’s shadow. Though their names remain unknown to him directly Qian Ya clearly recalled each primed-shooting foe whose names marked his past records among kills cataloged by name.
Such is indeed war eternal.
Beyond the town borders, Colonel Kaito from the Expeditionary force glowered darkly while beside him Commander Laozu of the 7th Battalion bore equal grimness.
Sudden silence shattered when Kaito snarled with resolve:
“Next round—the initiative becomes our priority! We breach ahead as lead attackers!”
“Absolutely not,” Kaito’s cold response immediately cut in.
“Three of my key officers have died within—that’s three: our lead shock battalion captain alongside his own two wing commanders. How dare you presume your life is worth more than them, to believe you might endure where they failed miserably?”
“I fear death little! What I cannot accept is—”
A slicing reply sliced deep:
“Young pup, none here ever shunned dying needlessly on behalf, that isn’t the crux here! But your life must serve some strategic purpose! Dashing in headstrong will only give that young devil additional target practice, while achieving nothing! Can such sacrifice truly turn tides?”
Blood flushed wildly within Lao’s clenched jaw. Yet another verbal jab followed, sharper than knives:
“There might be plenty unshunned death back their—but tell me…among the runaways who arrived first, whose men ran away in panic?”
A heavy silence thickly followed.
Of course those who fled bore Kaito’s insignia. Not willing to take insult, the old officer huffed once, then stood silent.
Checking ticking wrist chronometer, frustration over delays overboiled as Lao asked,
“Then what? If not charging immediately when shall we advance??”
“Orders: we remain entrenched. Further action postponed until first sun.”
“Our whole battalion of the Seventh can’t afford prolonged delay! The full cleanup must finish before nightfall of this coming midnight—the elimination cannot falter this time. Kill all the seed troops before any dawn arrives!”
“That’s *strictly* your concern from Seventh.”
Once again erupting:
“When *we* Seventh suffers losses, do you still naively imagine Fifteenth might escape consequences peacefully? Remember clearly—it was we who shared identical roles across the entirety of past sins!”
At that reminder, Kaito darkened beyond previous shadow-like gloom, like obsidian carved into living form by grief as finally turning to barked sharply at a bodyguard:
“Send word! Summon assistance—urgent—mass reinforced troops from our parent division at once!”
The message rider leaped into all-terrain armored vehicle and tore into darkness, racing across terrain where mere dozen miles separated base camp.
By midafternoon next day additional fresh divisions would arrive swarming from Fifteenth Division’s headquarters—but would Tenth Division, who owned surrounding local sectors, react in opposition? Such strategic conundrums, however, belonged properly to higher commands above these two officers.
No sooner had Lao Zu’s spirits begun reviving than Colonel Kaito poured icy oil upon fragile fire,
“You realize you only allocated one lonesome Sevenths battalion into this engagement? Keep recalling this truth—when all these secrets eventually expose before greater scrutiny—you Fifteenth will indeed face consequences…but you remember Seventh, by being orchestrateurs who masterminded everything—that entire division will pay as principal scape goats on frontline’s chopping block.”
Once again drained pallor spread over Lao’s skin.
Without a glance, Colonel Kaito had confidence Lao understood implications. Without adding unnecessary words, the Colonel turned commanding to his orderly:
“Carry tally of casualties!”
From merely the very first attack waves alone, near four hundred corpses already choked soil red beneath their boots, battlefield losses already reaching twenty percentage point of the original attacking forces. Admittedly, he had no illusions either force’s cost came free in the engagement. Even with that awareness at backmind, such unexpectedly high tolls were beyond all estimations, and not only had this engagement cost lives in spades… it still ended in outright strategic failure—the little hamlet still stood!
At that moment a breathless Captain officer burst into camp, lowering his voice as he informed,
“Major Sir…situation turns serious sir! We lost far way too many officers within assault…some troops hesitate on re-committing for second battle.”
Steady gaze unshaking Colonel responded calmly:—”Loss reports?”
Over thirty junior and company officers confirmed KIA alone during initial combat wave!”
“What was your count just said just now?!”
Stable composure evaporated instantaneously from Colonel’s countenance:
Thirty—WHAT?! What kind of supposed fifth tier warrior can account for slaughter on this magnitude?”
He was no longer simply shouting but now yelling at the top of lungs, with spray from each word landing directly across Lao’s own face! Helpless to reply, Lao could only remain silent and bitterly smile without even reaching to wipe saliva from his expression.
Back in the village, barely allowing wound treatments upon himself Qian Ye immediately started moving along perimeter zones, monitoring reestablishment lines of outer and inner defense structures.
Casualty levels within his unit remained acceptable: roughly a couple hundred casualties within seed recruits and heavy guard units of Eastern End Manufacturing, well bearable. Most heartening was how those wide youth gazes that had feared war’s fury now radiated bold determination and reverence instead.
There lies only one reason warriors follow and adore leaders without hesitation: when that leader continually charges forward into the gravest battlefield risks personally challenging the greatest enemies upon every frontline.
Gathered around slowly but surely were young resilient warriors with hope newly kindling behind steel gazes. Speaking serenely, yet carrying undeniable conviction behind his calm composure:
“Hold on little longer still. Withstand one more offensive attack. Before sundown tomorrow, the backup divisions shall arrive as promised at our back. Remember this village still stands as part of House Wei dominion in Eastern Provinces—an uppermost first grade noble lineage. Within Empire’s borders these paltry commanding officers from Expedition Army will eventually kneel.”
For those gathered around him came moments of heavy yet total silencings, then erupted into roaring victory chant breaking through exhaustion. Their earlier weariness, injuries and mental anxieties instantly disappeared with these affirmations—vanishing completely from sight. Within their own hearts, they saw before merely one indomitable colossus—an empire that commanded Eternal Night’s land. Perhaps death itself remained nothing to fear… yet their individual future remained as opaque as misty night sky, and what then of tomorrow even if one survived a battle?
None mentioned beforehand who actually protected their temporary sanctuary’s identity—some among them perhaps even remained ignorant of the House Wei reputation. But all present recognized instantly “First-grade aristocrat families within Imperial Court’s ranks” equating to entities capable of standing eye to eye with military monstrosities like Expedition Army itself—a living reminder that even if only one sliver of light flickered ahead within these shadowed times, there remained possibilities as long as life continued on breathing.
Yet as always happens upon capricious battlefield—reality defies prediction with merciless truth.
Despite expecting reinforcements summoned by brother Wu Patian, who had promised reinforcements…
Instead what marched in grim formation next—was the dreaded reinforcements from Fifteenth Division, bringing fresh horrors anew.
Fifteenth Division deployed in fact a fully battalion again immediately. Given the short notice and the distance beyond assigned defensive territories involved in the sudden re-committing deployment of *yet another second brigade* during very limited timeframe—it stretched the capacities of Fifteenth Division to absolute limit. Meanwhile, 20 miles away toward river town capital base the Tenth still chose its path through eerie, suspicious silence remaining entirely dormant—choosing nothing…
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