The next day arrived swiftly.
Before noon, Xiao Lin arrived at the military camp he had left six years ago. As if by unspoken agreement, Mu Chen arrived at almost the exact same moment. Looking at the camp before him, which exuded a cold, murderous aura, Xiao Lin showed no discomfort.
After all, awakening his past memories didn't mean his current life's experiences had vanished. He had spent five years crawling through the mud of this very army, fighting on the front lines against neighboring empires. The military environment was his second home.
"Brother Xiao, it seems six years away haven't dulled your edge at all," Mu Chen remarked. It sounded like a question, but his tone was certain.
"How could I forget the life of the trenches so easily?" Xiao Lin replied, turning to his friend after the troops had assembled. "When do we set out?"
"Now?" "No problem."
With that simple exchange, the decision was made. Together, they led a massive army of sixty thousand men, marching majestically toward the front lines.
As the war between the Jia Ma Empire and the Chu Yun Empire worsened, Marshal Intel Moyai had been calling up reinforcements from across the country.
To be honest, the average strength of these armies was lackluster. Most ordinary soldiers were only at the 1st to 3rd stage of Dou Zhi Li (Dou Qi Layer). Only a few reached the 4th stage or higher.
Dou Zhe (Disciple): Could serve as a Centurion (leader of 100).
Dou Shi (Master): Eligible to be a Commandant (leader of 1,000).
Da Dou Shi (Grand Master): Could hold the rank of Lieutenant General.
Dou Ling (Spirit): A General commanding tens of thousands, like Xiao Lin.
In a world of supernatural power like Doupo, the hierarchy was absolute. As long as the Imperial Family held peak powerhouses, they never feared a military coup. If a General like Mu Chen rebelled, what could his army do against an Emperor like Jia Xing Tian? A Dou Huang could suppress an entire army with a wave of his hand.
This was the reason for Xiao Lin's freedom. Even though Marshal Moyai controlled the deployments, the Imperial Family controlled the Empire through raw, overwhelming strength. Following a Dou Wang like Moyai to rebel against a Dou Huang was, as the saying goes: "The Old God of Longevity hanging himself—tired of living."
The General's Tent
After three days of forced marching, they reached the border outpost, thousands of kilometers from the capital. The Jia Ma Empire had gathered over 700,000 troops here just to hold back the fierce Chu Yun invasion. The atmosphere was suffocating. If the situation didn't improve, neighboring countries would undoubtedly swoop in like vultures to scavenge the remains.
Upon arrival, Xiao Lin and Mu Chen were immediately summoned to the Great Marshal's tent.
Marshal Intel Moyai looked his age—nearly sixty, with deep wrinkles and graying hair. Compared to his peers—Yun Shan of the Yun Lan Sect, Jia Xing Tian of the Imperial Family, and Hai Po Dong of the Primer Clan—he looked much older. While they had all reached the rank of Dou Huang, Moyai was still stuck at the peak of Dou Wang.
As Xiao Lin entered, dozens of gazes locked onto him. He remained calm, his Heavenly Realm Soul subtly scanning the room.
"General Xiao, General Mu, you've finally arrived," Moyai said.
"Greetings, Great Marshal!" they responded in unison.
The tent was filled with over a dozen Generals, all of whom were at least Dou Ling practitioners. Among them, Xiao Lin—displaying a 9-Star Dou Ling aura—was the strongest after Moyai.
As Moyai looked at him, Xiao Lin's soul perception caught something strange. For a split second, a flash of... pity?... crossed the Marshal's face before it returned to a cold mask.
Something is wrong, Xiao Lin thought. We are peak reinforcements. Why would he look at us with pity?
"Wait," Xiao Lin whispered to Mu Chen. "Where is Nalan Jie?"
As if answering his thought, Moyai spoke, his voice heavy with forced gravity. "Gentlemen, what are your thoughts on General Nalan's distress signal?"
Xiao Lin's brow furrowed. He quickly leaned toward a colleague to get the details. A month ago, Moyai had received intel that Chu Yun was sending an elite squad for a flank attack. He had sent Nalan Jie with a hundred elite Da Dou Shi and seven Dou Ling to ambush them.
Instead, they were the ones ambushed. Now, they were trapped.
It was a Yang Mou—an overt conspiracy. The Chu Yun Empire hadn't killed them yet because they wanted to lure out more Jia Ma experts.
"We cannot abandon them," a general muttered. These elites came from the most powerful clans in the capital. If the Empire abandoned them, the clans would turn their backs on the throne.
The logic was simple: Moyai had to stay to command the main army. Anyone weaker than Nalan Jie (an 8-Star Dou Ling) would just be sending more lambs to the slaughter.
All eyes turned to the only person left who had the strength to break the siege.
Xiao Lin. The 9-Star Dou Ling.
Moyai looked at him, his eyes harboring a dark, unreadable depth. "General Xiao... it seems the rescue falls to you."