For the first time in nearly a year since his reincarnation, Si stepped beyond the confines of the Bi clan residence. Marching alongside the six thousand five hundred strong army of the Bi clan, a faint sense of nostalgia stirred within him.
While the main force advanced at the front, the Death Banner Battalion trailed behind. Even so, every division maintained disciplined formation, their orderly lines allowing them to pass smoothly through the crowded streets.
Civilians gathered along the roadside, cheering loudly as they threw flowers into the marching ranks. War drums thundered with fervor, their rhythm echoing through the city. The entire atmosphere pulsed with energy, and even Si found himself allowing the faintest trace of a smile to surface.
The glorious march that preceded every war always amused him. Both sides departed with unwavering confidence, each believing they would emerge victorious. Their conviction was fed by the cheers of loved ones and the pride of their people.
Yet the battlefield had a way of stripping those illusions bare. It forced men to confront reality, and that was why the return march was always quieter, even in victory.
"The price of war is always heavy," Si sighed.
"Nervous, Captain?"
Ruìzhì's voice dripped with mockery, but Si remained unmoved. He cast the sly librarian a brief, meaningful glance before turning his gaze back to the road ahead.
It took them five hours to leave behind the roaring cheers of the city and reach the outskirts, where the main force had already assembled.
For this campaign, the commanding officer was none other than the foremost general of Yunhe, the man who led an army of twenty-five thousand soldiers, Zhèn Huá.
Zhèn Huá was a mountain of a man, standing well over six and a half feet tall. His build was robust, though his bulk leaned more toward fat than muscle. His round face was marred by an unfortunate goatee that did little to enhance his appearance.
Clad in blue armor, he rested a Blue Tiger glaive upon his shoulder. Though his outward appearance lacked refinement, he was anything but ordinary. He was an esteemed True Martial Realm expert, a genuine elite among warriors.
Beneath him stood Bi Xian, Li Bang, and Lui Chou, each commanding five thousand troops, accounting for fifteen thousand of the total force. Another five thousand belonged to the Blue Tiger Army under Yu Fei, while the remaining five thousand comprised the three Death Banner Battalions from the Bi, Li, and Lui families, with fifteen hundred under Bi, fifteen hundred under Li, and two thousand under Lui.
The composition of the army was staggering. Ten thousand cavalry, five thousand archers, seven thousand infantry, and three thousand artillery units equipped with Whirlwind Catapults and Zhuge repeating crossbows.
It was a formidable force, and it was no wonder they marched with such confidence.
'It is a pity at least ten thousand of them will be buried at Kong'gong Pass,' Si thought, shaking his head as he let out another quiet sigh.
"You've been sighing a lot. You don't think we can win?"
Si turned toward the voice. It was Jun, wearing his usual bright smile.
Si held mixed feelings about the boy. He carried Bao's optimism, but where Bao lacked ambition, Jun possessed it in excess, along with a boldness that bordered on recklessness.
He reminded Si of Bao, but of a version he found far less appealing. In his past life, he had never encountered this youth, leaving him uncertain of the role Jun might play in the future.
"Yes. There is a ninety-five percent chance we will be slaughtered," Si replied without hesitation.
Hmph!
Si raised a brow at Jun's scoff. The boy clenched his fists, youthful fire blazing in his eyes.
"Five percent is enough..."
Silence followed.
Si found himself momentarily at a loss. Was this simple stupidity, or some delusion born of blind confidence?
How could anyone be so foolish?
Did he truly believe war resembled the embellished tales of legendary generals told across the central plains?
'There is a one hundred percent chance this fool dies in this battle,' Si concluded in a single breath.
"Great, I am stuck with a delusional fool who will most likely break formation and get all of us killed!" Ruìzhì facepalmed, his voice thick with irritation.
Si rolled his eyes at the old man's dramatic display and shifted his attention to Zixuan. The towering brute looked completely out of place, as though he did not know how to exist within the tension that bound their squad together.
In just two months of guidance, the man who had never possessed a cultivation base had already reached the second stage of the Foundation Realm. His innate talent eclipsed even Si's, yet his lack of intelligence was equally profound.
The same heavens that had blessed him with monstrous strength and terrifying potential had stripped him of the simplest sense.
The heavens were cruel.
"We… die?" Zixuan asked, turning toward his captain with uncertain eyes.
Si shook his head casually, his expression as calm and indifferent as ever.
"We won't. Do not worry."
A disdainful snort escaped Ruìzhì almost immediately.
"Yes, let us take comfort in the words of a madman marching into battle with his bare hands," he said, his tone laced with heavy sarcasm.
Si did not react.
If every buzzing insect deserved his attention, he would never have risen to the rank of Divine General in his past life. Ruìzhì's disrespect was not something to be argued into submission. It would be crushed through action, through strength, through results on the battlefield. That was a language all men understood.
He had long since outgrown petty exchanges.
Qiang, on the other hand, paid them no mind at all. He moved in silence, broken only by the occasional low grunt. His attention was fixed entirely on Zhèn Huá. His eyes gleamed with a primal hunger as they lingered on the general's gleaming armor.
Si spared him only a brief glance before returning his focus forward.
General Zhèn Huá stood at the head of the formation, flanked by his commanders, his Blue Tiger glaive raised high into the air. Before him, the twenty-five thousand strong army roared as one, their voices crashing together with such force that the ground itself seemed to tremble beneath them.
The war had begun.