Chapter Sixty-One: The Assault Squad and the Instructor Corps

"I want to go back."

Du Huaishan frowned.

Unexpectedly, no one questioned his decision. In less than half a second, Wu Ming was the first to shout, "I'll go with you, Huaishan!"

"Huaishan, I'm coming too!"

"So am I."

Li Anqi raised her hand.

"Count me in!"

"Me too!"

"I'm coming as well!"

One after another, the group drew their sabers, resolute and unwavering, determined to return to Bluestone Mountain alongside Du Huaishan. Xu Yuan was already standing by his side.

Raising his head, Du Huaishan saw many among them. Their armor was long soaked in the foul blood of demon-ghosts, their blades thick with flesh, yet every pair of eyes was wide as bronze bells, blazing with anger and a will to fight to the death.

Human hearts are made of flesh.

The reason Du Huaishan wanted to return to Bluestone Mountain was partly to avenge Sun Tian, and partly out of gratitude for the instructor corps who had supported his rise, especially Chang Suian and Zhou Zhongai.

Du Huaishan could never forget the day he was taken away by the special forces. After seeing Luo Zongwen, he returned to campus and found Chang Suian waiting below the office building, patting his shoulder like an elder brother, smiling as he watched him leave.

In this chaotic world, Instructor Chang was among the few who truly cared for him.

But weren't these trainee soldiers the same? Some sought vengeance, some could not bear to leave their instructors, and still others had witnessed veteran soldiers sacrifice themselves without hesitation, inspiring them to courage and boiling blood.

At this moment, these elite trainees finally understood the true meaning of the phrase "death with honor, life with shame" that Lai Yanlong so often spoke of.

They did not want to die.

But they even more refused to live with regret.

"What are you all doing? Hurry up and get in the truck!"

A patrol soldier with a scarred face jumped down, glaring as he urged them on.

"We're going to support the instructors!"

The trainees shouted in unison.

The scarred patrolman frowned. "I understand how you feel, but you’re too weak. You can’t even kill a single demon-ghost. This hot-blooded sacrifice is meaningless! Don’t waste the veterans’ and instructors’ rescue!"

"Who says we can’t kill demon-ghosts!"

"Exactly! We just killed a level twenty-one demon-ghost, and Huaishan landed the final blow!"

What!?

The scarred patrolman froze in place, his expression shifting from shock to confusion and back again, unable to find words to dissuade them.

Who could have imagined that a group of trainees, with only four months’ training, could slay such a colossal demon-ghost?

Not even he could have done it.

He looked again at Du Huaishan.

In his demonized state, Du Huaishan’s gray muscles bulged under filthy armor, black mist swirling around him, and under his helmet, scarlet-black demon horns gleamed with a terrifying power.

That black mist...

It was the release of attributes.

This kid had broken through the first threshold even in the early stages of training!

"You’re right, senior. Meaningless sacrifice is completely useless." Du Huaishan suddenly spoke. "Fatty, how many pressurized gas canisters do you have left in the truck?"

"N-not even two full cases," Yang Anfu replied, rubbing his tired, red eyes and sniffling. "Huaishan, are you really going back?"

Du Huaishan nodded. "Bring them all out and distribute them to the trainees with the best maneuvering scores. Our main goal isn’t to kill demon-ghosts, but to draw their attention and relieve pressure on the instructors—so we don’t need everyone!"

"Du... Huaishan, right?" The scarred patrolman interrupted. "Even if your plan works, if no one covers the retreat and the demon-ghosts surround you, do you want everyone to die with you?"

"Senior, with the defensive line shrinking, demon-ghosts could appear from anywhere on the way back. Without the instructors’ high combat power, we’d be in danger either way. It’s safer to stay here!"

"And if we do get surrounded, we still have the autocannon unit!"

This made the patrolman’s eyelid twitch.

"Xinhong!"

"Huh?"

Inside the truck, Zhao Xinhong, looking dejected, responded. Like Sun Tian, he was usually a quiet presence in Dorm Eight, but that didn’t mean he lacked feeling—he, too, was devastated by Sun Tian’s death.

"Send an urgent message right now, in Instructor Luo’s name. Contact the autocannon unit. Make sure they reach their assigned position as planned. When they see the green smoke signal, shell Bluestone Mountain immediately!"

As Du Huaishan spoke, the trainees remembered.

Of course! This was the 173rd class’s grand field assessment. Besides the elite trainees, there were ordinary infantry and the autocannon specialists.

Originally, the planned two o’clock shelling had been canceled because of red smoke in the mountain.

But if they could get autocannon support, the demon-ghosts’ assault could be greatly suppressed.

That way, they wouldn’t need to leave anyone behind as a rear guard, and they wouldn’t fear being overwhelmed!

But...

Zhao Xinhong looked at Du Huaishan, panicking. "Huaishan, this is issuing a false command! At best, we’ll be expelled from the military—at worst, we’ll be shot!"

"I know," Du Huaishan said. He had learned military discipline on his very first day.

But he had no choice.

The autocannon unit had their own instructors. Most recruits followed their instructor’s orders. Without a higher authority, their instructor would never order the cannons to fire without cause—what if they hit the wrong target?

So he could only send the order in Chief Instructor Lai Yanlong’s name.

"Send it. If anything happens, I’ll take the blame!"

Du Huaishan remembered he still had two commendations pending with Lai Yanlong—if it came to it, he’d throw away his rank.

But the others didn’t know this.

In that instant, over three hundred trainees looked at him with admiration.

Even the veteran instructors were moved by his courage and resolve.

To risk execution for giving a false command just to save their instructors—how many would truly dare?

"No wonder you’ve always been my goal to catch up to!" Li Anqi clapped him on the shoulder. "Du Huaishan, I’ll share the blame with you!"

"Hey, Huaishan, how could the brothers of Dorm Eight not join in?" Old Wu led the cheer.

Tan Hai and Guo Tingyu all grinned widely.

Du Huaishan suddenly remembered that time in the mess hall, lining up and being mistaken for someone else, and couldn’t help but grin too. "Enough talk about blame—time is short! Switch out those canisters now!"

Yang Anfu was no longer afraid of being scolded by the logistics instructors. He took it upon himself to carry out the last two cases of pressurized gas from the transport truck.

There were twenty-four sealed canisters in the unopened case.

The half case had eight left.

Split up, they could outfit a team of sixteen.

Everyone wanted to contribute, especially those who had used up their canisters and been carried back by teammates—those who had indirectly caused casualties felt even more guilt.

But Du Huaishan insisted, no reckless heroics.

In the end, they selected the sixteen best all-rounders to form a spearhead team, to return to Bluestone Mountain and support the instructors.

But the scarred patrolman insisted he couldn’t let the trainees go alone—he would go too.

Du Huaishan had no choice but to agree.

"Signals and protecting the recruits are in your hands!"

At last, the patrolman glanced at his companions, took a deep breath, and, with a flash of strange light, entered his demonized state and slowly drew his saber.

"Wang Yao!"

Suddenly, a young patrolman with red eyes shouted, "...Come back alive!"

"Haha!" The scarred patrolman laughed, looking at the eager faces of the elite recruits, and saw himself and his teammates taking their own assessment years ago. "Don’t worry, I’ll bring every one of these kids back safe!"

With that—

Zip, zip, zip!

In seconds, the sixteen elite trainees, together with Patrolman Wang Yao, vanished into the trees.

Within the forest—

"There are tracks ahead on the right—let’s move left!"

A muscular trainee with a buzzcut and violet-glowing eyes—He Zongtai, known for his skills and strength in the third training squad—shouted.

"Something’s up on the left too!" Tan Hai, ever sharp-eyed, sensed danger.

"Move right," Xing Zhenhao called from the side.

"Argh! What’s going on—are we going left or right?" Li Anqi finally lost patience and yelled.

"Everyone, halt!" Wang Yao barked.

Instantly, the sixteen trainees stopped, landing on the trunks of the pines.

"This hit-or-miss approach won’t work—we need one voice in this team. Du Huaishan!"

"Here!"

Wang Yao glanced at the determined youth. "Since you started this, you lead!"

"Yes, sir!"

With no need for more words, Du Huaishan slung his crimson marrow spear, drew his saber, and with a flash of steel pointed toward the western back mountain.

"173rd Elite Spearhead Team—prepare for action! Xu Yuan and I will take point. Tan Hai, Old Wu, Tingyu, Xing Zhenhao, cover the flanks. He Zongtai, Li Anqi, and you, senior, cover the rear. The rest will support from the center."

"Stay tight in formation, avoid unnecessary fighting and save your gas. Objective: the back mountain, link up with the instructors. Move out!"

Zip! Zip!

Without hesitation, Du Huaishan and Xu Yuan launched their cables and led the charge.

The rest followed his orders to the letter, spreading into their assigned positions.

"Haha! Du Huaishan, you really know how to give orders!" Li Anqi laughed, leaping from the treetop to join He Zongtai and Wang Yao at the rear.

The team immediately took a wedge formation.

A spearhead?

Wang Yao, from the rear, noted the formation and gave Du Huaishan another look.

Not many at his age knew tactics. Even veteran soldiers usually just followed their squad and platoon leaders.

He recalled that the spearhead was an offensive formation with the commander near the rear-center, main force concentrated centrally, and the front fanning out like an arrowhead—good for breaking through, with less offense than some but better defense than the fish-scale formation. The front could withstand flanking pressure.

That meant—

The most dangerous positions now belonged to Xu Yuan and Du Huaishan.

The two focused intently, darting through the forest.

"Right front—demon-ghost, level eleven!"

"Straight ahead behind the slope—demon-ghost, level seven!"

Xu Yuan continued to shine as scout leader.

At its core, this formation was the tactic Du Huaishan had crafted for the assessment—just expanded for the larger team.

With Xu Yuan’s constant reports, Du Huaishan adjusted course in real time.

Indeed, as both Wang Yao and Lai Yanlong had said: in battle, the army needs one voice.

With Du Huaishan in command, the team’s efficiency soared.

His mind was cool and decisive; he always found the safest path, and when combat was unavoidable, Xu Yuan used her agility to sever grasping claws with a single stroke.

On the flanks, Wu Ming, Tan Hai, and others would shoot or slash as needed.

They advanced like an arrow, swift and fierce, driving into the heart of the demon-ghost horde.

Now, inside the encirclement, the pressure wasn’t only on Xu Yuan and Du Huaishan; the flanks and rear were in constant peril.

That was when the trainees in the center had to provide timely support.

Meanwhile—

On the back of Bluestone Mountain.

Boom!

With a tremendous roar, Lai Yanlong burst out laughing, twin sabers blazing green, slashing like a wolf leaping, a tiger bounding, a snake coiling, a crane darting—seven strokes in a flash, his arms spinning like airplane propellers, shredding a two-zhang-tall demon-ghost with a human head and tiger’s body into pieces.

Thud.

A crimson demon-heart, glowing with red light, rolled across the snow.

The scalding, foul blood steamed, melting the snow into a shocking pink.

Looking down, the demon-ghost flesh began to self-immolate, turning to dust.

"Cough... cough..."

Dropping to one knee, Lai Yanlong gripped his saber, thrust into the bloody earth, coughing uncontrollably. His armor was pierced at the upper ribs, red soaking out.

"Commander Lai!"

Zip—Zhou Zhongai rushed over. "Are you all right?"

"Haha, not dead yet. Watch that mutant—the thing’s second spirit fusion is extremely high, and it’s devoured many demonized soldiers. Suian and I managed to cut off five of its demon heads, weakening it to a mere monster. But it’s hiding now, ready to ambush us—cough, cough..."

Lai Yanlong coughed up blood, fighting the agony in his lungs. His mismatched demon eyes scanned the woods like knives.

But around them, the pines were broken and snapped, blood everywhere, and more demon-ghosts were circling, drawn by the scent—there was no sign of the black-pillar mutant.

"It’s awakened a camouflage skill—like Zhu Gong’s color-shift. Without perception abilities, we won’t find it easily," Zhou Zhongai said, her pink eyes full of worry.

Not far off, Chang Suian burned with fire, red light coiling. His massive crimson blade hissed as he cleaved through a one-zhang-tall minotaur demon—an orange line split its face, purple light burst out, and the beast fell in two like a felled log.

He fired his grappling line, landing beside them, breath steaming with sparks. "Commander Lai, the demon-ghosts are gathering, and I have less than half a canister of gas left."

Half a canister—enough for nine more flights.

Nine.

Surrounded as they were, it would never be enough to get off Bluestone Mountain.

They were trapped.

"Haha, damn it—cough... What’s the 73rd Brigade’s patrol battalion doing? Not worth a damn!" Lai Yanlong cursed through blood, but his mouth curled into a relieved, almost proud smile. "At least the kids we trained should be out by now. If they’re safe, these months weren’t wasted!"

He suddenly unhooked his canister. "Suian, Zhongai, I still have most of mine. Take it and go—I’ll cover the rear."

"Commander Lai!"

Chang Suian and Zhou Zhongai shouted as one. "No, we can’t leave you! We go together!"

"Go together, my ass! Even if I give you my gas, there’s no guarantee you’ll escape! That mutant hasn’t left—I can feel it—cough..." Lai Yanlong spat blood and waved them off. "To you, the 173rd class are new recruits. To me, so are you two. In the academy, old soldiers bully new ones; on the battlefield, old soldiers protect them. That’s the tradition of the Yingzhou Army. Now go—if one escapes, it’s worth it!"

"Go! I’ll hold them off! Run, Suian! Zhongai! Go—!!"

Chang Suian’s eyes flashed with memories of the Battle of Anguo, the moment before Junjiang’s death.

In that instant—boom!

His demon eyes blazed, the fire on his body flared. The red blade wailed with ghostly cries from the heat, golden spikes growing and extending, muscles swelling like dragons, claws thick as iron, his face a mask of molten rock—a kirin demon’s visage. His hair, streaming from his helmet, grew over a meter long, wild as a horse’s mane—a row of red spikes!

First spirit—Fire Kirin—fusion: fifty percent!

Second spirit—Mighty Boar—fusion: twenty-three percent!

Chang Suian at his peak!

"Suian," Zhou Zhongai seemed to know why he transformed.

Chang Suian tossed his canister to her. "Zhongai, I’ll stay with Commander Lai."

Her pink eyes widened with shock.

Seven years.

Since Junjiang’s death, this was the first time Chang Suian had called her by name.

Smack! Zhou Zhongai slapped the canister away, white fur sprouting across her skin, a demon tail rising behind her. "Chang Suian, what’s that supposed to mean? You think I’m a burden?"

"Pfft! Hahaha... cough... Lai Yanlong is honored to fight alongside you both!"

Squeak, squeak.

Lai Yanlong laughed, reattached his canister, and stood, sword in right hand, blade before his chest.

At the same time, Chang Suian and Zhou Zhongai straightened and saluted, rifles at the ready.

As if this was their final conversation.

Boom!

Lai Yanlong spat blood and pushed his demonization to the limit, toxic green gas billowing skyward, standing before his companions, sabers raised, facing six demon-ghosts and an unseen mutant.

"173rd Instructor Corps—attack!"

Before he finished, zip, zip, zip—they all charged forward.

But after half an hour of fierce battle, all three were exhausted, especially after facing the mutant.

Lai Yanlong had taken a direct hit to give Chang Suian the perfect opening, and now was spent.

Bang!

A moment’s lapse—an eight-meter demon-ghost slapped him aside like a cannonball. He crashed into a tree and spat blood.

Chang Suian and Zhou Zhongai were soon also locked in desperate combat.

Then—

Not far to his left, a patch of snow began to take shape—the mutant with only two demon heads left.

It looked at the half-dead Lai Yanlong with cunning in its pale almond eyes and darted over.

Though now under five meters, its presence was still overwhelming. Two gnarled ghostly hands stretched from black slime, stabbing toward Lai Yanlong.

"Hah! You wretched beast!" Lai Yanlong forced himself up, serpent eyes locked on the mutant, swung his saber with all his might. "Even in death, I’ll drag you with me!"

Clang!

His saber clashed with one ghostly claw, fingers shattering—but he only deflected one. The other claw struck from the side, aiming for his wounded ribs. If it landed, he’d be skewered.

Damn it! Lai Yanlong cursed himself for not landing one more blow.

Old Niu, Xiao Wu, Lixin, Xiumin... Ha! Lai’s coming. Our old Class Eleven of the 116th, after sixteen years, finally together once more...

Bang—

A gunshot.

The bullet struck the ghost’s claw, startling the mutant, Lai Yanlong, Chang Suian, and Zhou Zhongai.

In a flash—

Zip, zip, zip, zip! Seventeen figures, cables hissing, burst from the snowy woods!