The year-end approached, marking another year.
...
North of the Sky Lake, atop the Nine Zhang Plain, a human fortress rose from the ground. At Chen Wanli's behest, this stronghold, directly facing the demon encampments, mobilized over two hundred thousand laborers. Within a mere month, it was completed, capable of housing ten thousand troops. Currently, over eight thousand soldiers of the Sky Lake Army had taken up their posts. On either side, the Wu Zhen Tower and the Rock Army established their own fortresses, forming a triangular formation that stood in defiance of the demon's more than ten military tents.
Above the Sky Lake Army's fortress, a watchtower, a full thirty feet high, stood tall. Amidst the falling snow, Lin Zhao, clad in armor, sat on the edge of the watchtower, gazing at the demon tents to the north with a contemplative air.
He furrowed his brow, his thoughts drifting back to the past. He recalled celebrating the New Year with Xiao Shitòu and Guo Dòngyáng last year. Now, both Xiao Shitòu and Xiao Jiǔ'er were far away, and Guo Dòngyáng had been conscripted to logistics and construction. It was rare to see them.
"Sir."
Behind him, Nǜ Zhī, dressed in female armor and with a sword at her waist, approached Lin Zhao and stood beside him, smiling. "Still watching the demons?"
"Mhm."
Lin Zhao smiled. "Does Commander Chu need anything?"
"No."
Nǜ Zhī parted her red lips. "I just came to see you."
"Oh..."
Lin Zhao nodded.
"Sir," Nǜ Zhī hesitated, then after watching the distance for a while, she said, "Are we going back to the Mountain Peak Villa to celebrate the New Year this year? Luò Yāng, Mù Cuò, Huà Píng, they all have this idea. They feel that since Xiao Jiǔ'er and Xiao Shitòu are not with you this year, and our families have all been sent to the south, why don't we all gather at the Mountain Peak Villa to see the year out?"
"No need."
Lin Zhao shook his head, his gaze heavy as he looked north. "The demons have set up a full eighteen military tents. They could march south at any moment. I don't know if we'll even be able to see the New Year through this year..."
Nǜ Zhī pursed her red lips. "Then... we won't celebrate?"
"We won't."
Lin Zhao nodded, then suddenly smiled. "Nǜ Zhī, after the New Year, you'll be twenty. According to the customs in our small town, a twenty-year-old woman is almost ready for marriage."
"Ah?"
Nǜ Zhī's pretty face flushed. "I've never thought about that. People like us, what right do we have to think about getting married? We just go with the flow. Who knows when we'll be crushed and annihilated by the general tide."
"That's true."
Lin Zhao looked into the distance. "Go rest. Don't mind me. I'm here cultivating my fist intent and sword intent; it won't be a hindrance."
"Mhm!"
...
Not long after Nǜ Zhī left, a figure soared through the snow and landed directly beside Lin Zhao. Clad in a green marshal's cloak, it was Chen Wanli.
"Old Marshal!"
Lin Zhao immediately rose and bowed with clasped fists.
"No need for formalities."
The old marshal reached out and pressed him back to the ground, laughing. "Lin Zhao, I came to ask you, are there any adjustments needed to our current deployment?"
"Yes."
Lin Zhao pointed north. "We should adapt to the enemy's dispositions and adjust our deployments accordingly."
"Be more specific?"
The old marshal also sat down, the two of them like kindred spirits who had met late in life.
Lin Zhao surveyed the scene to the north. With the perception of an eighth-realm martial artist, he could see extremely far. He looked into the distance and said, "The demon army is confronting us head-on. Against demons, cavalry is paramount, archery secondary, and infantry least effective. We have three fortresses deployed in the front line, with cavalry ready to charge from the rear, so we don't fear a frontal assault by the demons. However, to the northeast are the demon camps. Over a million demon cavalry are restless, ready to move south at any moment."
He frowned. "Once the demon cavalry launch their attack, our right flank will bear the brunt of a fierce assault. Therefore, we should deploy more spearmen, armored soldiers, and strong archers on the right flank. We should also dig more trenches and set up more abatis and obstacles. We can wait for the demon cavalry charge, and with springboards placed over the trenches, human infantry can move freely, but the demon cavalry won't have it so easy. In my opinion, we still have too few trenches; we need to add another dozen or so."
"Understood."
Chen Wanli nodded, even taking out paper and pen to record everything. Then he asked, "What about the left flank's defense?"
"The left flank is guarded by the ghost race's puppet army. Let the Jade Bamboo Garden defend it. The Jade Bamboo Garden has many cultivators; have them draw more demon-suppressing talismans. Once the decisive battle begins, these talismans will have a very strong killing effect on the ghosts."
"Understood."
Chen Wanli smiled. "Lin Zhao, if you were to personally command this great battle, would you be willing?"
"Ah?"
The young man was surprised. "With Marshal Lao and Commander Chu here, where would it be Lin Zhao's turn to give orders? Besides, I'm only fifteen this year, with little experience. I wouldn't be able to command the respect of the army. Marshal Lao is joking."
"It's almost New Year."
Chen Wanli smiled meaningfully. "You'll soon be sixteen. A sixteen-year-old imperial marshal has appeared in our human history before."
Lin Zhao remained noncommittal, thinking the old marshal was merely jesting.
...
In the small town.
With the great battle approaching, the town's population had dwindled significantly, with more than half the houses vacant. The vacated houses were occupied by people from elsewhere. Cultivators from all over the world, from mountains and seas, gathered in the town. Therefore, in some dilapidated houses, one might find a great sword immortal or a fifth-realm martial artist. Lin Zhao's ancestral home had also been vacated and was occupied by over a dozen people from the Fusù Great Wall.
The business at Baiwei Xuan had become much more sluggish. Even in the cold winter, the number of people eating hot pot had drastically decreased.
At a table by the window on the first floor, the self-proclaimed gourmet, Old Sword Immortal Han Buyŭ, was still enjoying hot pot, praising it as he ate. Han Buyŭ had been in excellent spirits these past few days. Under the tempering of the murderous aura preceding the great battle, his cultivation had progressed rapidly. Within half a year, he had broken through from the Golden Core realm to the Nascent Soul realm. Just a few days ago, he had miraculously entered the Star River realm. The old sword immortal even felt that with a little more time, he might be able to reach the Upper Five Realms. Once he entered the True Realm, he would truly be an old sword immortal, not the current half-baked one. Everyone in town called him Old Sword Immortal Han, but these days, many of the people who had moved into town could kill him with a single punch.
"You scoundrel!"
Sister Qing'er grabbed Jia Chong's ear and shoved him onto the table. "What are you staring at? Are the fairies from the mountains pretty? Let's see if you dare to look!"
Jia Chong repeatedly begged for mercy. "My dear wife, my dear wife... I swear by heaven and earth, I wasn't looking!"
Sister Qing'er released him and glared at him fiercely.
"My dear wife..."
Jia Chong looked at the plump woman before him and said, "Why don't... you go down the mountain too? Most of the townspeople have already left. The ones who remain are those who can wield a sword and kill demons. What are you staying here for? To die with everyone else?"
Sister Qing'er immediately slapped him, saying with frustration, "You good-for-nothing! Don't you see, if we leave, who will make hot pot for Old Sword Immortal Han? So many outsiders have come to our Sky Lake to die, why should we be afraid of death while they are not? In this cold winter, what's wrong with making them a hot meal?"
"Alas..."
Jia Chong sat on the threshold, smoking in silence.
"Why don't you leave then?"
Sister Qing'er's voice softened. "I accidentally ate myself this fat, so I can't walk fast. If you want to leave, just go. Don't let me hold you back..."
Jia Chong's smile was more bitter than a cry. "What are you saying? In my heart, you'll always be as beautiful and slender as you were at twenty. Anyone who dares to call my wife fat, I'll fight them to the death."
Sister Qing'er chuckled softly. "You old rogue, you still have such a sweet tongue!"
...
In the front street, the Zhang family courtyard.
Zhang Liúchéng, clad in a young scholar's robe, carried a bamboo box filled with books and sat by the door, looking wronged and unwilling to leave. His parents, however, had donned armor. The head of the Zhang family was a centurion in the Fenwei Battalion, and Zhang Liúchéng's mother was one of the few Earth Masters in the Sky Lake Army. Both were extremely important talents.
"Liúchéng!"
Madam Zhang lowered herself and affectionately stroked her beloved son's face, smiling. "Be a good boy, go with Uncle Li first. Your father and I will reunite with you in Yun Prefecture after we defeat the demons."
"Don't want to go."
Zhang Liúchéng threw the bamboo box aside and said loudly, "Father, give me a sword, and I can go to the battlefield and kill demons too! Why can you all go, but I have to be a turtle hiding in its shell? Even Lin Zhao is going to the battlefield to kill demons. I don't want to run away alone!"
"Nonsense!"
The family head stepped forward and slapped his son. Immediately, five red finger marks appeared on the young man's cheek.
"You never let me learn the sword, you only let me read!"
Zhang Liúchéng said with teary eyes, "You never cared about what I wanted to do. You just arranged everything you wanted me to do. I want to learn the sword, I want to be a sword immortal. Why can't I?"
"Shut up!"
The family head roared, "What do you know?"
Zhang Liúchéng wailed.
"Li Qǐng, take him away."
Madam Zhang frowned. "Don't mind his crying, take him to your aunt's house in Yun Prefecture, and continue to urge him to study. Your master and I will join you after the battle."
"Yes, Master, Madam!"
The butler tucked the young man under his arm, put him in a carriage, and headed south of the town.
"Alas..."
Looking at the departing carriage, Madam Zhang felt heartache. "Why? We should have told him the truth from the beginning."
"What would be the point of telling him?"
The eyes of the Zhang family head reddened slightly. "His innate spiritual veins are withered. He'll never awaken a single sword-nurturing lake in his life. And he wants to be a sword immortal? Letting him study is just to prevent him from dying too soon."
Madam Zhang wept silently.
She would miss her son dearly, even if she were in the other world.
...
In the bookstore.
The scholar packed scrolls into boxes. Outside the door, two Confucian disciples waited quietly. The junior uncle's collection of books was of the highest quality and had to be taken back to the academy.
"Junior Uncle, are you really not coming with us?" asked a disciple.
"The matter started because of me, how can I leave?"
The scholar took a sword from the wall of the main hall and gently wiped it, a gentle smile in his eyes. This sword had not been unsheathed for who knows how many years.