"To train one final batch of disciples, and then Grand Commander Sun can finally retire, enjoy peace in his later years, and live out his days in comfort."
Inspector Hou drawled the words with his trademark sharp tone. "How this humble servant envies you, truly."
"Yes, indeed."
Governor Liu quickly echoed, smiling obsequiously. "Lord Sun has toiled his entire life for the Great Sheng Dynasty. It's about time he rested. The defense of the northern border and command of the Eight Great Camps should now fall to us juniors, to shoulder the burden for the court!"
Sun Xiangzong raised his teacup, slowly stirring the foam with the lid. He said nothing.
"Grand Commander Sun."
Governor Liu leaned forward slightly. "Recently, the Nanxu Kingdom has been growing suspiciously close with envoys from the southern tribes. The situation looks dangerous. Once this Elite Selection ends, the chief and deputy commanders of the Azure Dragon, White Tiger, and Vermilion Bird Camps should be sent to assist the Prince of Zhen'nan. The southern border needs generals like them."
"What's the rush?"
Sun Xiangzong spoke calmly as he took a sip of tea. "We'll discuss that when the time comes."
"Grand Commander, what… what do you mean by that?"
Governor Liu was caught off guard, his tone turning serious. "But we already agreed on this earlier."
"That was then; this is now."
Sun Xiangzong set the cup down, brushing tea leaves off the rim. "Ten days ago in Yunzhou, even someone like you, Governor Liu, could have barely held the northern line with the Eight Great Camps behind you. But ten days after Yunzhou… I doubt that'll still be the case."
'Barely held'?
Governor Liu's smile stiffened at the choice of words. "Then what is Grand Commander trying to say?"
"The Yunzhou Ten Days," Sun Xiangzong said evenly, "a blood sacrifice was held there—its purpose remains unclear. Both of you are aware of this. If we keep delaying, those southern barbarians will only grow stronger until they can no longer be contained."
His tone was calm, almost casual. "Before this old man lays down his command and returns to the fields, I must at least crush two of their tribes—to ensure that no foreign power dares provoke our borders for the next fifty years.
"My disciples must remain to assist me. They can't be reassigned just yet."
He paused briefly, then added, "Also, I intend to expand the army.
"The Eight Great Camps will become twelve, and total troop strength will increase to over 150,000.
"I've already calculated the funds, provisions, and medicines required. I only need the court's cooperation."
"Expand the army?"
Both Governor Liu and Inspector Hou were stunned. Then, almost in unison, they exclaimed, "Grand Commander, this is a serious matter! It's not something you can decide with a single word!"
Sun Xiangzong reached slowly into his robe and pulled out a sealed letter. "The memorial has already been written. I'll trouble Inspector Hou to deliver it to His Majesty. Once he reads it, I trust he'll approve.
"There's no need to be so alarmed.
"This old man is nearing his end. I only wish to do something worthwhile for the people before I die. After I'm gone—whether it's twelve camps or twenty—all of it still belongs to His Majesty and the Great Sheng Dynasty. Surely you don't think I plan to rebel?"
"Grand Commander, you speak too heavily,"
Inspector Hou quickly tucked the letter away, bowing slightly. "Who under heaven would ever doubt your loyalty to the court?"
He placed the letter inside his sleeve. "I'll see to it that this confidential memorial reaches His Majesty's hands as soon as possible."
"Good."
Sun Xiangzong leaned back once again in his grand chair, half closing his eyes. "Now, let's focus on the selection."
"Indeed."
Governor Liu nodded solemnly. "If His Majesty approves your petition, then this group of young men will become the backbone of the four new camps to be established."
"Clang!"
The great war drum resounded as Li Qianzong struck it with force. "Enter the field!"
The sealed wooden gates of the training arena creaked open with a deep rumble.
The first candidate, Cui Yongping, stepped forward to begin his assessment.
Not long after, the three chief examiners conferred briefly and gave their verdict: Grade B.
"The formation was smooth overall," Governor Liu commented, "but he took too long to stabilize after the initial surprise attack. Even though he recovered without collapsing, that hesitation costs him the top grade. B it is."
"Next!"
"Xie Sishu!"
…
"Next, Chen Sanshi!"
"…"
"Chen Sanshi?"
Governor Liu raised a brow, clicking his tongue. "Isn't that the young general who led the refugees across the river?"
"The same,"
Inspector Hou replied with a faint smile. "Lord Chen earned His Majesty's favor for that deed. He was awarded a third-rank merit title by special decree. If he achieves further military success, he's on the path to marquisdom."
"Hmph."
Governor Liu sighed. "I've been in officialdom most of my life. Even now, I only hold a second-rank governorship and a formal second-rank peerage. For someone his age to already bear a third-rank title—his future is indeed boundless."
He paused, then added coldly, "It's a pity he doesn't know how to keep himself clean. Getting tangled up with Young Master Yan—he's bound to fall with him. Mark my words, he'll end up disgraced."
"Governor Liu, you should watch your words,"
Inspector Hou shot back immediately. "Grand Secretary Yan is respected by all. How did he become a 'treacherous villain' in your mouth?"
"Is he not?"
Governor Liu snorted. "Thirty years ago, the capital's confiscation case. Twenty years ago, the levee breach that drowned fields. Fifteen years ago, countless others! The Yan faction's crimes have killed loyal ministers one after another. They hid behind their so-called 'reforms,' deceived His Majesty's trust, and ran rampant. Tell me that's not treachery!
"And as for the fall of the Great Wall at Anding Prefecture—wasn't General Li Yuan, who oversaw that sector, once Yan Liang's student? I wouldn't be surprised if the man betrayed us to the enemy himself!"
"Without evidence, how dare you say such things?"
Inspector Hou's voice turned cold, his words sharp as a blade. "If palace servants like me spoke that recklessly, we wouldn't live three days.
"Whether Grand Secretary Yan is loyal or corrupt—His Majesty will judge. As for you, Governor Liu, perhaps a reminder is needed: His Majesty's cultivation has already reached the path of the Dao. One day, he may truly ascend as an immortal. Yet you, following Lord Gao and maintaining such frequent contact with the Crown Prince's faction—what exactly are you plotting?
"Remember this: whether it's Grand Secretary Yan, Lord Gao, or the Crown Prince himself, all are subjects under His Majesty's rule!"
"No need for your reminder."
Governor Liu's tone chilled to ice. "Our loyalty to His Majesty is as clear as the sun and moon!"
"Give them each a blade."
Sun Xiangzong's calm, commanding voice cut through the tension.
"Yes, Master!"
A burly, bald officer with a ring scar on his head and massive prayer beads around his neck stepped forward. Though armored and built like a mountain, his movements were fluid and silent. He drew two gleaming sabers from the belts of the soldiers behind him and tossed them onto the ground before the quarreling officials.
"Lord Sun!"
Governor Liu's face went pale. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Quit your squabbling like a pair of women."
The bald general cursed loudly. "You two have yapped so much that you're putting my master to sleep! If you really can't stand the sight of each other, then roll down there and settle it with life and death! Oh wait, my bad—Inspector Hou, you don't even have the equipment for that!"
"You…"
Inspector Hou's face turned an ugly shade of blue. He raised his delicate orchid fingers and pointed furiously. "General Meng, how dare you insult me?!"
Meng Guangxin didn't flinch in the slightest.
They both noticed Sun Xiangzong's expressionless face and finally swallowed their anger. Neither dared to speak another word. The atmosphere grew heavy and silent as everyone turned their attention back to the selection field.
…
"Brother Chen, even a Grade B would be fine."
Yan Changqing said encouragingly, "Once I take the championship and establish my position, I'll be sure to help promote you."
"Then I'll have to thank you in advance, Brother Yan."
Chen Sanshi didn't waste words. He led his men toward the center of the martial field.
The enclosed training ground was vast—spacious enough to hold over 10,000 people. On the high walls surrounding it sat hundreds of spectators, each emanating powerful internal energy—some strong, some even stronger.
Chen Sanshi raised his gaze. With his keen eyesight, he immediately spotted Inspector Hou and the two men seated beside him.
One wore a crimson robe embroidered with a golden pheasant insignia—a symbol of a governor. The other, in coarse hemp clothes, had an unassuming look that belied his authority.
Judging from their seats, both were chief examiners. The red-robed one was naturally Governor Liu, while the old man in coarse cloth could only be Grand Commander Sun Xiangzong himself.
'Didn't expect the famous Grand Commander to look this plain.'
More importantly, the qi flowing within his body was unlike anyone else's.
Every martial practitioner in sight carried transparent qi—its density and purity were the only distinctions. Inspector Hou's qi was particularly thick, almost tangible. Governor Liu's wasn't far behind. The bald monk-like general and the other commanders all radiated similar energy.
But Sun Xiangzong's qi was azure.
Completely different from everyone else's.
It resembled the faint blue qi of rare beasts but deeper—more profound, more alive. Azure was the truest color to describe it.
'So this is what lies beyond Martial Saint.'
Even his cultivation method was nothing like ordinary martial arts—it felt alien, transcendent.
Yet Chen Sanshi couldn't sense any trace of that "Azure Profound Qi" in the world around them. That meant it wasn't absorbed from nature—it had to be self-condensed, born from within. Or perhaps such qi could only be perceived after reaching a certain realm.
"Clang!"
Li Qianzong stood atop the high platform and called out, "Commanders of the Selection, step onto the command stage! You may only direct your troops from above. No personal fighting allowed. The test begins after two cups of tea!"
Formation drills were meant to assess leadership and tactical command. If a commander had to do everything himself, he wasn't a general—just a strongman.
Chen Sanshi climbed the platform. His sharp eyes caught traces of blood that had been scrubbed off the floor. Clearly, some of the earlier tests had seen casualties. That made sense. Without the threat of real death, a soldier's true combat ability could never be measured. Still, he wondered what kind of test they would use this time.
"Roar…"
His ear twitched as a low growl echoed from behind the walls. "So that's how it is," he murmured.
He glanced toward Xu Wencai amid the ranks and gave a small nod. That was the signal.
"Formation—set!"
Xu Wencai flicked open his feather fan.
Over 500 soldiers swiftly assembled into a tight Four-Gate Encirclement Formation, the defensive lines locking seamlessly.
Li Qianzong's voice boomed from the platform. "Once the test begins, a team of our own cavalry will charge in to break your formation. They may injure you, but rest assured—they will not kill. Your only task is to hold the line."
Not kill?
Chen Sanshi didn't believe that for a moment.
It was obvious—they were testing reaction under sudden assault. The goal was to see how the formation adapted under real combat pressure.
Still, he trusted his men completely. There was no need to break the rules by warning them.
"These aren't troops from Liangzhou, are they?"
Governor Liu narrowed his eyes. As a provincial governor and overseer of three provinces' armies, he could tell at a glance.
"They're not," Inspector Hou said in surprise. "Where are they from, then?"
From the stands, General Zhao, seated a few rows behind, answered, "They're the routed soldiers from Poyang County—men who fled their post."
"Routed soldiers?"
Governor Liu chuckled. "And what's Lord Chen thinking?"
"How could he use deserters in a test?"
Inspector Hou's sharp voice turned cold, his gaze sliding sideways. "General Zhao, Lord Chen is an imperial-appointed general. Are you implying someone's withholding proper troops from him on purpose?"
"Inspector Hou, I would never dare," General Zhao quickly replied. "Lord Chen insisted on using his old troops. Many can testify to that. But truth be told, those so-called peasants have been trained to quite a decent standard."
"Oh?"
Inspector Hou's eyes brightened with interest. "So Lord Chen wants to show us his skill in leading men, then."
"He'd better not end up lifting a rock just to smash his own foot," Governor Liu muttered, clearly eager to see him fail.
Sun Xiangzong, however, said nothing—just watched silently, his eyes calm and deep as still water.
"Boom… boom… boom!"
The drums rolled again, echoing through the enclosed martial field.
The vast arena suddenly felt like a massive coliseum. As the drums thundered, eight massive gates swung open at once. From each gate charged twenty cavalrymen—160 in total—racing straight toward the Four-Gate Formation.
Under Wang Zhi's command, the formation moved like a living beast. Without barriers or walls, the soldiers shifted positions rapidly, blocking charge after charge. Even as cavalrymen crashed against their shields, the lines held firm—unyielding, unbroken.
After four waves of cavalry assaults, the riders finally withdrew.
"That's it?"
Zhao Kang blinked, disbelief on his face. "It's already over?"
"Don't let your guard down! Maintain formation! No breaking ranks until the examiner announces the end!"
Xu Wencai's voice thundered from the center of the array. "If anyone slips up before the order is given, they'll face military punishment when we return!"
"Yes, of course it's not over yet."
Wang Zhi tightened his grip on his spear, his eyes sharp and calm.
'This is only the beginning.'
Having served in the Eight Great Camps for so many years, Wang Zhi naturally understood the true difficulty of these examinations.
Even though the testing methods changed each year, none had ever been this easy.
"Roar—!"
Sure enough.
The moment the last cavalry unit withdrew, monstrous roars erupted from all directions. Out of the eight gates surged a stampede of beasts—wolves, tigers, leopards, and jackals—all grotesquely larger than their normal counterparts. Their eyes burned crimson like fresh blood, fangs glinting like steel blades, saliva dripping in thick, viscous strings.
They hadn't eaten for who knew how long. The moment they saw living flesh, madness overtook them, and they charged toward the center of the arena.
To the onlookers above, it looked like a beast tide—inescapable, overwhelming.
But the strangest thing was their unnatural state. Their bodies were twisted, their movements unnatural, their eyes glowing as if cursed—more like the fabled demonic beasts from legends.
"Could they all be mutated beasts?"
Most of the candidates were new to Liangzhou and had never even heard the term poison beasts. Their first thought was naturally "mutant beasts"—and once a wild creature mutated, its power grew exponentially.
For ordinary soldiers, such a sight was enough to make their knees give out in terror.
Worse still, the earlier cavalry charge had lulled them into thinking the exam would be bloodless. The sudden contrast—the illusion of safety shattered—spread panic through the ranks. Panic led to bloodshed, and once fear took root, the entire formation could crumble.
"A bunch of animals! Don't panic—kill them all!"
Wang Zhi roared, blade raised high as he braced himself at the front line.
The flag officers waved their formation flags with precision, directing the troops in synchronized motion. Under their command, the Four-Gate Encirclement Formation reached full efficiency. The 500 soldiers split and rejoined seamlessly, dividing the charging beasts into isolated groups.
There were about 400 beasts—almost matching the number of soldiers—but through discipline and command, the formation created the illusion of a force many times larger, trapping the creatures with airtight coordination.
These poison beasts were terrifyingly strong.
A few tiger-like ones, in particular, possessed strength comparable to tempering bone martial artists. Each swipe of their claws sent men flying, smashing shields and breaking spears. But even when soldiers fell, the formation did not break.
Men from the rear stepped up immediately to close the gaps. The lines held tight.
Some soldiers even threw their bodies in front of beasts to buy one or two seconds of time for the formation to reset.
Their fighting will was iron-hard.
It was just an assessment—but they fought as if on a real battlefield, as if each death would decide the fate of the army. None showed fear. Not one abandoned his post.
[Blood Oath of the Battlefield] combined with [How Can One Say There Are No Clothes?]—their morale hadn't even peaked yet, but already their killing aura surged sky-high.
Animals were animals.
Soon the beasts grew disoriented under the wall of shields, unable to break through. Then came a forest of spears and a storm of arrows.
The martial field turned into a slaughterhouse.
At this rate, it wouldn't be long before every poison beast was dead.
"Stop!"
Li Qianzong hurriedly struck the bronze gong. "Disperse the formation! Leave some of the poison beasts alive—we'll need them for the next test!"
"Boom—!"
Several vice generals at Meridian-Connecting level leapt out, driving the surviving beasts away and clearing the field.
In truth, they had been watching from the shadows the entire time. None of the soldiers would have been allowed to die. At most, a few would be seriously injured. The examiners would intervene if things went too far.
But this time, they hadn't needed to step in. Aside from the few injured at the start, Chen Sanshi's men had handled the crisis beautifully—regaining control and finishing strong.
"Truly worthy of being the man who led refugees across the river!"
Inspector Hou clapped lightly, his sharp voice filled with awe. "Grand Commander Sun, did you see that? These men treat even a mere assessment as if it were life and death! Imagine them on a real battlefield—they'd be unstoppable! Far stronger than many Liangzhou troops we've seen today."
By now, the assessment was halfway through.
Roughly 40% of candidates had earned a Grade A evaluation.
The beast wave wasn't actually that difficult. It wasn't meant to kill soldiers—just to test their reaction under pressure. As long as the Four-Gate Formation held steady, they could pass easily.
But many soldiers panicked precisely because they saw it as an exam rather than a battlefield. They were unwilling to risk injury or sacrifice, and that fear made them falter.
The test was as much about discipline as it was about leadership.
The three chief examiners all noticed something.
The man commanding the formation was not Chen Sanshi himself—but an elderly scholar standing at the center of the array.
A scholar commanding troops.
Among the Eight Great Camps, only one other man was known for that—Fang Qingyun.
That alone spoke volumes about Chen Sanshi's mastery of military coordination.
"This Lord Chen truly has skill,"
General Zhao admitted, shaking his head in admiration. "It's just a shame his talent in cultivation can't keep up. Otherwise, he'd be a top contender for Grand Commander Sun's final disciple."
"Still, he's got the makings of a fine general," Governor Liu added.
The three examiners shared no disagreement. Together, they raised their brushes and marked his result—Grade A.
The wounded were carried off for immediate treatment, while the rest of the troops, still standing tall, marched out of the arena in perfect order.
"Master,"
Fang Qingyun pushed his own wooden wheelchair up beside the old man. "Did you see him? Sixth Junior has changed a lot these past years. Even after being demoted to a mere Hundred-Household in a county garrison, he's steadied himself. That kind of composure isn't easy to find."
…
The first major assessment of the Elite Selection ended soon after, and the results were officially announced.
Chen Sanshi—unsurprisingly—received Grade A.
Alongside him, Cao Fan of the Capital Army also received Grade A, as did Lu Shuhua.
Others were not so lucky.
Some possessed strong personal cultivation but lacked leadership. Yan Changqing's cousin from Yanzhou, Xie Sishu, despite his Innate Martial Saint Body, scored only Grade C, effectively disqualifying himself from half the competition.
"So the heir was right after all."
Wen Qiushi murmured as he listened to the results being announced. "That Chen fellow actually made it through with an A."
"What's the use?"
Yin Hanwen's face had gone pale, his wounds reopened. "This isn't the only test."
Cao Fan's gaze turned dark as he looked toward the martial field, where the officials were already setting up for the next round.
After a short half-hour rest, the second stage of the Elite Selection was about to begin.
The next test—Formation Breaking.
Li Qianzong raised his voice once more, reading the rules aloud.
"Next, forty thousand soldiers will be drawn from the Eight Great Camps to form a simplified Nine-Palace Eight-Trigram Formation across the martial field.
"Your goal—enter the formation and break through it in the shortest time possible!"
He grinned faintly.
"Scared yet?"
"Don't be afraid. This round mainly tests how you respond when surrounded by overwhelming forces—whether you can form formations, read formations, and find a path to survive. The soldiers inside the formation will aim to capture you alive, not take your lives. Also, despite the large number of participants, the strongest among them are only at the Bone Tempering Perfection stage. None have reached the Tempering Organ realm. Your only task is to find the path of life hidden within the array and break out."
"Anyone who breaks through the Nine-Palace Eight-Trigram Formation within one incense stick's time will be rated Grade A. For every half-stick longer you take, your rating drops one level. If you're captured alive, you'll be eliminated from the main general assessment and may only continue in the sub-general's exam. But don't lose heart—future enlightenment or military merit can still earn you a command position."
"The formation is ready. As before, I'll call your names—prepare to enter!"
"Cui Yongping!"
"Boom—boom—boom—!"
An enormous formation unfolded before everyone's eyes.
Banners whipped wildly in the wind, and the thunder of war drums shook the sky.
From the high platform, one could see that the entire formation resembled a living Eight-Trigram diagram. The soldiers moving within were like flowing qi, aligning with the forces of heaven and earth. Their formation wasn't just organization—it subtly elevated their fighting power.
A mystic formation!
Only such rare tactical arrays could achieve this kind of amplification.
This time, the examination wasn't sealed off. Everyone could watch each participant's performance.
But that didn't make it easier to follow. The Nine-Palace Eight-Trigram Formation was alive—ever shifting. From ground level, only the front few ranks were visible. Beyond that, towering eight-foot-high black-iron shields blocked everything from view. The deeper layers of the array were impossible to see. Staring at it too long even made one's chest tighten from the pressure.
Cui Yongping once again went first, spurring his horse forward.
Roughly half an incense stick later, the verdict came.
"Cui Yongping—captured alive. Eliminated!"
"…"
After that, eight more generals entered one after another.
Half of them were immediately eliminated. The rest barely scraped a Grade B, and not a single Grade A appeared. The audience grew restless.
"Even Xie Sishu from Yanzhou, with the Innate Martial Saint Body, only got a Grade B!"
"This formation's cursed! Once you go in, you can't come out!"
"Wasn't last year's Elite Selection test completely different?"
"Why's it so much harder this year…"
Even the favorites—Lu Shuhua, Cao Fan, and Yan Changqing—were visibly tense.
After all, this was a formation of forty thousand men. Even if they weren't killing, the sheer scale of the encirclement made it terrifyingly difficult.
"Chen Sanshi!"
Already prepared, Chen Sanshi stepped forward.
"This is your horse—and your weapon!"
This stage was a battle against time. The better the horse, the greater the advantage.
Those born to noble or military families might have their own spirit beasts or elite warhorses. But for fairness, no one was allowed to use their personal mounts. All mounts were issued uniformly by the Eight Great Camps.
Chen Sanshi was given a black horse—decent quality, though far inferior to Qianxun. Still, it was sturdy and responsive enough.
After confirming the horse's condition, he was handed a willow-leaf spear without a sharpened edge.
Every participant's weapon type was already registered; their usual armament was public knowledge.
The unsharpened weapons served two purposes—one, to increase difficulty; two, to prevent excessive bloodshed. Many of these elite candidates could easily kill hundreds if left unchecked.
Even though this was just an assessment, injuries were inevitable—but deaths were not allowed. Like the previous test, several Meridian-Connecting experts were secretly watching, ready to intervene.
Thus, blunted weapons were distributed to minimize casualties and remind everyone to show restraint.
The Mountain-Suppressing Sword wasn't allowed either.
That mystic weapon, wielded only by Transforming Strength martial artists, would've given an unfair advantage.
Chen Sanshi didn't mind. Since breaking through to the Tempering Organ stage, he hadn't yet trained his sword or saber techniques seriously. Bringing them wouldn't have made much difference anyway.
He checked the horse—no issues. The spear looked fine too, though who could say if there were hidden flaws?
There was no time to test it. On the table beside the examiners, a stick of sandalwood incense had already been lit. Every second that passed now was priceless.
"Begin!"
"Hyah!"
Chen Sanshi spurred his black horse forward. Man and mount shot into the shifting formation like a meteor plunging into the open maw of a beast—and vanished.
The Nine-Palace Eight-Trigram Formation, also called the Eight-Gate Golden Lock Formation, was a tactical array invented over a thousand years ago. It had been lost for nine hundred years, until Fang Qingyun successfully reconstructed it barely a decade earlier and proved its might in live combat.
That was when the "Phoenix Chick" earned his fame.
The array was intricate beyond measure—ever-changing, filled with false paths and deadly traps. Even those familiar with the principles of the Nine Palaces and Eight Trigrams needed both knowledge and instinct to distinguish illusion from reality.
That so many generals before had been captured alive was only natural.
Fortunately, Chen Sanshi had long since mastered this formation.
If this were a normal drill, he could easily break through within half an incense stick—certainly far less than one full stick.
But…
His senses were too sharp to miss the cold gaze fixed upon him. Cao Fan, the Crown Prince's heir, was watching him with the eyes of a snake.
Coupled with Tang Yingke's earlier warning, Chen Sanshi knew trouble was coming.
Still, what could he do? Such things couldn't be proven before they happened. Who would confess to sabotage before the act?
'So be it. My path has always been full of obstacles.'
Chen Sanshi tightened his grip on the willow-leaf spear, eyes fierce and calm.
"If someone really wants to make things hard for me," he muttered, "then even a blunted weapon… can still kill."