Volume One, Chapter 14: A Single Strike to Sever the Sergeant
A forced march? Cross-country running? For him, once the chief military medic of the “Blood Wolf” special forces in Huaxia, these posed no challenge at all. Back in the days of chasing drug traffickers along the southwestern border, it was routine to sprint five kilometers through the rainforest carrying thirty kilograms of gear.
Moreover…
He was now at the peak of the Skin Refining Realm in physical strength!
With every push off the ground, the frozen earth cracked with fine lines, unleashing astonishing speed.
“Yingzi, keeping up?” Zhang Muyang glanced back to ask.
“A Bone Refining Realm warrior, do you think I need your concern?” Su Ying didn’t even raise her eyelids. She lightly tapped her toes on the snow-covered rocks, her figure gliding like a swallow without disturbing a single snowflake.
To Zhang Muyang’s surprise, Zhang Xiaobei also gritted his teeth and kept pace.
This youth, who had spent years hunting roe deer in the mountains, eyes bloodshot and breathing like a wild beast, stubbornly clung to the two of them, pushing himself all the way to the finish line with sheer grit.
However, they didn’t surpass many others—only by a few steps at best.
Panting heavily, Zhang Muyang leaned on his knees, sweat dripping down his forehead and cheeks, forming icy beads on his chin. His waist bent like a shrimp, as if utterly drained.
Su Ying and Zhang Xiaobei were in no better shape, clutching their chests and coughing violently, faces pale as paper.
The new recruits were even more miserable: some clung to tree trunks, retching uncontrollably; others convulsed in the snow; some fainted outright and had to be dragged by companions, a complete disorganized mess.
Zhang Muyang ignored them and scanned the youths of Zhang family village… fortunately, everyone had kept up, though their rankings were toward the back—at worst, they’d be hungry for a meal.
Chen Xiucheng stood on the platform, a rare smile tugging at his lips. “You three are quite impressive!”
“This… this is all thanks to your excellent guidance, sir.”
“Ha ha!” Chen Xiucheng chuckled and waved his hand. “Alright, go eat now.”
“Thank you, sir!”
The three rushed into the mess hall, where steaming heat hit them like a wave.
The so-called six taels of dry rice was actually coarse rice mixed with sixty percent husk bran—biting into it scratched the throat, and swallowing felt like swallowing sand.
Two taels of dried vegetables were frozen, hard Chinese cabbage soaked in murky broth with a few spots of oil floating on top… but for new recruits used to thin congee, this was heavenly treatment.
Zhang Muyang and the others ate ravenously, stuffing rice balls into their mouths with one hand while guzzling broth with the other, clearing their bowls in just a few mouthfuls. Even then, their eyes never rested.
The squad leader’s bowl had only thirty percent bran mixed in the rice, and the oil on the broth formed a thin layer.
The platoon leader’s rice had even less bran—only ten percent.
As for Captain Wei Wentong… his was pure white coarse rice, accompanied by a small dish of preserved meat, the fragrance wafting from afar.
It seemed that to eat well and fill one’s stomach, one had to climb higher.
Tian Chong patted Zhang Muyang on the shoulder with a smile. “Don’t envy that; only captains and company commanders enjoy such meals.”
The Jingbian Army was strictly hierarchical, with tiered treatment from meals to lodging. This gap was like a whip, lashing every soldier forward: to live with dignity, one had to fight with their life.
Zhang Muyang earnestly said, “Sergeant Tian, with your glorious battle record, you’ll eat pure coarse rice sooner or later.”
Tian Chong felt comforted by the words, straightening his back a little. Others flattered him with hopes of promotion, but Zhang Muyang’s praise felt natural and sincere—a rare and pleasant thing.
After a brief rest, everyone regrouped at the training ground.
Several veterans carried over a dozen large wooden boxes, which crashed onto the ground with a clang. As the lids were opened, a cold blast mixed with the scent of rust swept out… inside were knives, swords, and spears, many stained with dark brown blood. The blades were serrated, with several unmistakably Northern Yan-style curved sabers.
“These are weapons picked up from the battlefield,” Chen Xiucheng’s voice echoed in the cold wind. “If you want to survive, you must master them! From today on, two hours daily for blade training, understood?”
“Understood!” everyone shouted.
“Captain, shall we have someone demonstrate? Let the new recruits watch,” Wei Wentong suggested.
“Alright!” Chen Xiucheng agreed without hesitation.
---
“Who will step up?”
“I will!” Zhang Kui was the first to leap onto the platform, holding a polished battle knife. He cupped his hands and said, “Captain, a demonstration alone isn’t exciting. Why not let me find someone to spar with?”
Wei Wentong nodded. “Fine, you choose.”
Zhang Kui’s gaze swept the crowd like a venomous snake, then he pointed. “You.”
Zhang Muyang?
The training ground fell silent; even the wind seemed to pause.
Zhang Xiaobei wanted to stop it but was firmly pulled back by Su Ying. This was an opportunity for Zhang Kui—and for Zhang Muyang as well!
Panting, Zhang Muyang waved his hands. “Brother Kui, I just ran over ten miles. I can’t even lift my arms…”
“Just a friendly match. What’s there to fear? You scared, huh?”
Tian Chong sensed something wrong; Zhang Kui’s eyes clearly held deadly intent.
“Heh, too scared to come up? Don’t tell me you’re a coward?” Qi Zhiyuan suddenly sneered. He had arranged this act with Zhang Muyang; the double act had to be convincing.
“I… afraid of what?!” Zhang Muyang shouted angrily, fearing Tian Chong might intervene again. He leapt onto the platform in two steps.
Wei Wentong smiled. “Just sparring isn’t interesting. How about a wager? I’ll give two taels of silver to the winner!”
Chen Xiucheng remained impassive. “You two agree?”
“Agreed!” Zhang Kui answered eagerly, eyes full of greed. Killing Zhang Muyang would earn him the reward and earn merit from Captain Wei—a perfect win-win.
“I…” Zhang Muyang hesitated, breathing heavily. “Two taels is too little; this is life or death…”
“Five taels! Fate decides!” Wei Wentong declared loudly, a playful glint in his eyes.
Zhang Muyang finally gritted his teeth and agreed. He looked back at the youths of Zhang family village, panting. “Blades know no mercy. If Brother Kui kills me by accident, it’s my own fault—nothing to do with him!”
This kid understood the game!
Zhang Kui sneered inside but feigned politeness. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.”
“Thanks, Brother Kui!”
Zhang Muyang slowly drew his blade. The moment the Frost Feather Blade slid from its sheath, frost patterns on the blade shimmered without a breeze, emitting a dragon-like hum that rang clearly across the silent training ground.
Huh?
Chen Xiucheng and Wei Wentong both narrowed their eyes.
This blade looked unimpressive, gray and rusty like scrap metal, but the hum was no ordinary sound. The blade was narrow and slender, its tip curved just right—reminiscent of the standard military sabers of Daliang, yet bearing the shadow of Northern Yan curved sabers, exuding an indescribable strangeness.
But could this broken blade really kill?
[Beep!]
[Host provoked by small fry detected; recommend quick victory to avoid delaying marriage!]
[Task triggered: Slay Squad Leader]
[Reward: Armor Penetration +1]
[Activate Bloodthirsty Growth: Sharpness +1]
Zhang Muyang’s expression instantly changed. The previous weakness vanished, replaced by a terrifying gleam.
He stood proudly, the Frost Feather Blade pointed diagonally to the ground, voice deep: “Come!”
Zhang Kui felt an inexplicable chill. It was as if he faced not a novice recruit but a lurking beast. Yet, strength in lifting weights did not mean skill in combat. He was a squad leader who had killed three Yan bandits—he wasn’t afraid of a rookie.
“Attack!”
---
Zhang Kui roared.
His battle knife sliced through the air with a gust of wind, a four-hundred-pound strike force capable of cleaving a wooden post in half.
The new recruits gasped and cried out in fear. Tian Chong even stepped forward, ready to intervene.
Zhang Muyang moved.
His figure slipped sideways like a phantom by three inches, the blade grazing his clothing.
At the same time, the Frost Feather Blade slashed upward diagonally—
Shh!
The sound of tanned leather armor tearing was so light it was almost inaudible.
Zhang Kui staggered forward two steps, looking down at his chest—there was only a hair-thin crack, no blood seeping out.
“Is that all?” He was about to mock when suddenly his eyes widened.
“Pfft—!”
Blood gushed like a fountain from the crack, instantly soaking half his body. Under all the horrified gazes, Zhang Kui collapsed like a log.
One strike!
Just one!
A deathly silence fell over the training ground, so still that even a pin drop could be heard.
Everyone was stunned, including Chen Xiucheng and Wei Wentong. No one expected this seemingly one-sided duel to end so decisively.
The silence lasted two breaths before erupting into thunderous cheers.
The youths of Zhang family village were the first to leap up, shouting hoarsely, some even throwing their hats into the air in excitement.
But more of the new recruits instinctively stepped back.
The veterans who had seen battle fell silent, exchanging glances and instinctively resting their hands on their sword hilts—they recognized this blade technique. It was the deadly method of battlefield veterans.
This blade was strange!
Chen Xiucheng stared at Zhang Muyang for a long moment, then suddenly clapped and laughed. “Zhang Muyang, in the army, martial skill commands respect. Since you have slain a squad leader, you deserve to be one!”
“Thank you, sir!”
Zhang Muyang knelt on one knee, his voice steady.
Wei Wentong’s finger scraped deeply on the scabbard, a murderous gleam flashing in his eyes—this man must be eliminated quickly!
Zhang Muyang stood, meeting Tian Chong’s gaze and grinning broadly.
Suddenly, Tian Chong felt a chill run down his spine. The way this kid looked at him carried an uncanny familiarity, as if… as if sizing up his next target.
This guy, could he be aiming for the sergeant’s position?
Tian Chong cursed silently, planning to kick him twice later. If he wanted to scheme, he should scheme against someone else—why him?
“Squad Leader Zhang!”
“Squad Leader Zhang!”
The youths from Zhang family village shouted in unison.
Zhang Muyang stood on the platform, the Frost Feather Blade hanging at his side. A few threads of blood traced the blade’s pattern like living things, seeping into the steel before disappearing. The frost on the spine gleamed faintly, as if freshly drunk on blood and now returning to silence.
[Beep!]
[Frost Feather Blade Bloodthirsty Growth: 5/100]
[Slayer Path Proficiency: 8/100]
[Next stage: Drink the blood of ten men to unlock “Frost Edge”]
The snowstorm intensified.