Each time Rhett observed the transformation and brewing of this aura, he felt a profound sense of mystery deep within his heart.
He widened his eyes, even relaxing his mind, attempting to peek into the unknown, but still, he gained nothing.
Soon, the entire world was about to take shape.
Rhett shook off his stray thoughts, his consciousness quickly touring the world, preparing to select a suitable host for possession.
Ten thousand years ago could be described as an era where talents flourished, and strong individuals were abundant. Human forces were at their peak, and there were at least hundreds of Saint-level experts.
However, after searching for some time, Rhett regretfully found that, despite the considerable number of Saint-level experts in this era, none were in a recently deceased state.
After all, precisely hitting this time point was too difficult.
With a slight sigh, Rhett pulled himself together. While the number of Saint-level experts was indeed insufficient, the number of peak Archmages, who were just one step away from the Saint realm, was still considerable.
Although the difference between the two was just a step, that step was like a chasm for transcendents. Once crossed, one would wield boundless power, but if they fell short, it was not uncommon in the annals of history.
After a careful selection, Rhett finally found a group of dying individuals gathered together, among whom was a peak Archmage, just enough to satisfy the needs of his family's possession.
In the next moment, Rhett, along with his three sons, performed the possession.
Boom! The world fully solidified.
"Commander Dagula! Commander Dagula! Wake up, Commander Dagula!"
In a daze, Rhett heard someone calling out to him.
Before him was darkness. Though his possession had brought a sliver of vitality, the severe injuries still caused excruciating pain throughout his body.
It felt as if this wasn't a human body but rather a tattered piece of cloth on the verge of being torn apart.
Gradually adjusting, the calls in his ears continued, and Rhett barely opened his eyes. He saw more than a dozen transcendents dressed as soldiers. Their armor or robes were in tatters, each one covered in wounds, their blood soaking every inch of exposed skin. The cleanest part of them was their bright eyes, which stared at him, filled with pain and anxiety.
"Ugh... Ah..."
Rhett tried to prop himself up, but any movement pulled at his injuries, causing him extreme pain. His brows furrowed tightly, and a painful groan escaped from his throat.
He quickly scanned his surroundings: broken walls, a sea of corpses and blood. As a seasoned soldier, he immediately understood where he was—on a war-torn battlefield!
And it wasn't just any battlefield but one where they were fighting against orcs!
All around, aside from human corpses, there were also many orc bodies—massive, brown-furred Bearmen, a few with snow-white fur, and even some Minotaurs, Nightcats, and other familiar faces...
Rhett couldn't help but feel a strange sense of irony. In reality, they had managed to nearly wipe out the orcs, yet here, in this simulated world, he had to deal with them again...
"He's awake! Commander Dagula is awake!"
The dozen or so people around Rhett exclaimed. Their gazes toward Rhett were filled with confusion and disbelief, but more so with joy!
As their voices faded, a figure streaked over in a flash, arriving next to Rhett in an instant.
It was an elderly man in a white mage's robe, a badge with white wings embroidered on his chest, and a twisted brown staff in his hand. He stared at Rhett, who had just woken up and was sitting on the ground, his expression full of disbelief.
He murmured, "He woke up... He really woke up?"
This elder was naturally a healing mage from the army, exuding the aura of a high-level transcendent. He was a light-attribute Archmage. Just moments ago, he had led the healing squad to support this battlefield, intending to save the commander, but he had arrived too late.
According to the surviving soldiers, Commander Dagula's army of several thousand had been fiercely engaged in battle with the elite Bearmen, resulting in mutual destruction.
In the end, the Bearmen elite had been mysteriously empowered, their momentum surging, and they crushed the human forces in one decisive blow!
Fortunately, the Tiger Hunter Corps had arrived in time, scaring off the remnants of the Bearmen; otherwise, by the time they reached Dagula's forces, the entire army might have been annihilated.
A sense of relief washed over the white-robed elder as he wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and asked with concern, "Commander Dagula, how are you feeling now?"
Rhett panted heavily. Although he had been resurrected, it didn't mean his injuries would vanish instantly. While he no longer had to worry about fatal wounds, the injuries to his body and internal organs were constantly tormenting him, both physically and mentally.
Grimacing in pain, Rhett groaned, "Heal me again!"
The white-robed elder quickly complied. He had tried healing Dagula earlier, but to no avail, which led him to believe Dagula was already dead.
Now realizing the situation, the elder silently chanted, his spiritual power tracing a mystical path. Gradually, light elements descended upon Rhett's body like dewdrops, rapidly soothing his wounds.
All the injuries on Rhett's body healed at a speed visible to the naked eye.
In no time, Rhett was fully healed, his body once again filled with boundless vitality.
He stretched his limbs, cracking his neck, fully revitalized, and smiled faintly. "Thank you!"
The white-robed elder beamed. "No need for thanks, Commander Dagula. It's a blessing that you're alive. If you had perished here, it would have been a great loss for the Glacier Frontline!"
The Glacier Frontline?
Hearing this term, Rhett's heart stirred, focusing on the word "Glacier."
Although he had no recollection of this history, since it was called the Glacier, it was most likely located in the far northern part of the continent. Only there would it connect to the northern Ice River Ocean, forming sporadic glaciers.
Unsure of the battlefield's full situation, Rhett refrained from saying too much. Instead, he forced a wry smile and said, based on the information he had, "A defeated general has no right to speak of honor..."
From the whispered conversations of the surrounding soldiers, Rhett had at least deduced that he was a commander who had just suffered a defeat.
—To be exact, the original owner of this body had suffered a defeat and died in this battle.
It seemed... the opponent had been an elite Bearman force? And they were descendants of the Bearman king's main bloodline...
"An old foe, indeed..." Rhett chuckled coldly in his heart.
The white-robed elder, seeing Rhett's dejection and apparent loss of morale, quickly waved his hand. "Victory and defeat are common in war. How can a single loss erase all your past contributions? If not for your efforts, the Glacier Frontline would have fallen long ago!"
It seems I have a high position here and am well respected?
Rhett speculated inwardly but outwardly maintained a defeated expression, shaking his head. Suddenly, as if something occurred to him, his face changed, and he commanded, "Clear the battlefield immediately, search for any surviving soldiers!"
The people around him were moved by his words. This was the commander they respected—thinking of his soldiers just after being healed from his wounds.
A soldier spoke with sorrow, "Commander Dagula, we've already searched. Those who had any breath left have been rescued. The rest are beyond saving."
Rhett ignored the soldier's words, his expression turning stern, and in a commanding tone, he barked, "Follow my orders! Search the battlefield again and find any surviving wounded!"
The soldiers around him, hearing this, offered no further objections. They dispersed quickly, passing on the orders to the remaining troops.
Soon, the remaining soldiers spread out into the sea of corpses, swiftly searching for survivors.
Taking in the scene, Rhett gained more insight into the situation. The people who had initially surrounded him were all squad leaders, and from the responses of the soldiers, he learned their names and ranks.
"Commander Dagula, serving as deputy commander of the battlefield. It is indeed fortunate for the Glacier Frontline to have you!"
The white-robed elder placed a hand over his heart in a gesture of respect, the wrinkles on his face smoothing as he smiled.
Rhett turned his gaze toward the elder, waved a hand, and after a moment of contemplation, asked, "Where is that Bearman elite force?"
"They've fled. Just moments ago, when I arrived with the Tiger Hunter Corps for support, the Bearmen realized they were outmatched and didn't linger in battle. They fled hastily, and the Tiger Hunter Corps pursued them. I don't know if they'll catch up," the elder replied thoughtfully.
"I see..." A flicker of realization passed through Rhett's eyes. He felt fortunate indeed.
He wanted to continue speaking, but every time he thought of something to say, he remembered that this wasn't the Canyon Frontline or the Coldstream Frontline, but the unfamiliar Glacier Frontline. He was the deputy commander of this battlefield and should be well-versed in all aspects of the situation. If he asked too many common questions out of curiosity, it would surely raise suspicion.
So he had no choice but to maintain the appearance of a defeated but restrained leader, silently brooding.
The white-robed elder, however, didn't read too much into it. Seeing Rhett's downcast expression, he interpreted it as natural and sighed inwardly, hoping Rhett would soon recover from the shadow of defeat.
"There's a wounded soldier here! Where's the medical team?!"
Minutes later, a loud shout came from afar.
Rhett, startled, followed the sound and saw a squad leader, known to others as Gut, kneeling beside a soldier halfway up a horn-shaped hill. His face was filled with urgency as he called out to the medical team.
The white-robed elder, upon hearing the shout, rushed over without hesitation.
The others were slower to react but quickly followed, with Rhett arriving later.
The group gathered halfway up the hill and saw a soldier with a head-sized hole in his chest, a severely damaged heart, and a struggling expression. His fingers twitched slightly as if enduring unbearable pain, but all signs pointed to him still being alive.
The soldier's eyes were closed, his lips moving faintly, as he struggled to mutter a few words.
"Father..."
Rhett's body trembled slightly as he stared intently at the figure on the ground, silently praying.
Those around them were deeply moved, their eyes welling up with emotion. But they didn't think too much of it—after all, it was common for a dying man to call out for his loved ones in his final moments.
As beams of white light descended, the soldier's heart wound quickly healed, his body absorbing the immense healing energy until even the skin on his chest had fully mended. Eventually, all his injuries vanished.
The soldier opened his eyes and, upon seeing so many people surrounding him, was briefly stunned before quickly realizing where he was.
However, he seemed hesitant to speak, unsure of what to say, and chose to remain silent.
The others, seeing the soldier sitting there in silence despite being fully healed, assumed he was still in shock from the battle, especially after calling out for his father in his unconscious state. They believed he needed some time to recover.
Only Rhett understood the soldier's awkward predicament. Feeling a stir of emotion, Rhett spoke seriously:
"Brave soldier, a true survivor of the battlefield. We have been granted a second chance at life. I hope you can rise again, gather your strength, and repay the injuries we've suffered a hundredfold to those Bearmen!"
With just one sentence, he conveyed the overall situation and circumstances.
The soldier's eyes flickered with determination. "Understood, Commander!"
Rhett nodded in satisfaction, though he sensed the soldier hadn't fully grasped the deeper meaning of his words. So he added a more direct hint:
"Good. It seems your spirit remains unbroken. As my soldier, you should be like a 'fledgling eagle,' always full of fighting spirit. Even the fiercest storms can't stop you from soaring."
These words inspired the surrounding soldiers. Despite their recent defeat, Rhett's words were like the first light of dawn after a dark night, comforting their hearts.
His words were both a rallying cry and a way to affirm his identity.
Sure enough, the newly revived soldier finally grasped the meaning behind Rhett's words, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he focused on Rhett and smiled broadly.
Seeing that familiar grin, Rhett felt a wave of recognition wash over him, and he could roughly guess which son this was...
—That familiar smile could only belong to Tuck.
Then, he raised his arm and called out, "We've saved another comrade, but this also means our previous search efforts were insufficient. There may still be comrades clinging to life out there. Everyone, let's keep searching!"
"Yes, Commander!"
The soldiers around him responded with a resounding shout, even Tuck joining in with renewed vigor as he jumped up and followed the others to continue searching for survivors.
Soon after, two more wounded soldiers were found and rescued.
Though severely injured and on the brink of death, they were healed in time and almost fully recovered.
These two, of course, were Riley and Tylus.
Both had been carefully chosen by Rhett from among countless auras, matching water and dark elements, and their strength levels aligned perfectly with their new identities.
Half a day later, the search and rescue efforts were finally complete.
Apart from the individuals Rhett and his three sons had possessed, there were no other survivors.
After organizing the remaining troops, Rhett took stock of their numbers. From an original force of several thousand, only about two hundred remained. It was clear this battle had been especially brutal.