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Chapter 2 Battlefield (I)

It was dusk.

A brutal battle starting from early morning had finally reached a conclusion.

The Pingyuan Kingdom, with its 8,000 warriors and five mystics, finally beat the Luosheng Kingdom—which had invested 10,000 warriors and two mystics—but only at a great cost.

This wasn't the first big war for the mystics, but it was the first time so many mystics joined a conventional battle. The desperate struggles of the Luosheng Kingdom and the determination of Pingyuan Kingdom paled in the face of the mystics' creation of a spectacular, Earth-shaking battle.

Luosheng instigated the war, but Pingyuan's thorough preparations had them beat until Pingyuan was deep inside Luosheng. Now the enemy was but 300 kilometers away from Luosheng's capital city, Pingyang.

Maybe in a month or two, Luosheng, a hundred-year-old ancient empire, with its six-month-old coup, would no longer be part of the world.

Pingyuan's 8,000 warriors didn't sacrifice any less than Luosheng's fighters; among the mangled bodies of the battlefield were the dead wearing uniforms from both sides.

There were but 1,000 warriors left alive for Pingyuan. The living had to collect any leftover crystal swords, alloy shields, and cut off the ears of the dead Luosheng warriors as war souvenirs.

These were their spoils of war, and the only way lower-ranking warriors collected credit to exchange for energy crystals and higher level warcraft skills.

In this world, this brutal method was the only way warriors of low status could climb up the ranks. The dead were already dead; the living had no other way to keep going or to live better.

About one-tenth of Luosheng's 10,000 dead warriors were pummeled into pieces by the mystics' magic, so even a fingernail-sized piece of their bodies was hard to find, much less entire ears.  

The war spoils for Pingyuan was limited to less than 9,000; divided up, each warrior had about nine ears.

According to Pingyuan's rules, every ten ears could be exchanged for one low-level energy crystal, or a promotion.

Most warriors didn't want to use their spoils this way.

They wanted to keep their earnings until they had 100 of these, and then exchange them for a warrior's craft manual from the high-level war officers.

To become stronger and stay alive was more important than being promoted or becoming richer. The warriors who only cared about their immediate benefit had already perished in past battles.

Even the veteran warriors who managed to survive couldn't become national heroes like one might imagine.

They were only warriors.

The fate of warriors was decided the moment they were born.

After all, it was their fault they didn't have the gift of the mystics.

Ch. 1 Battlefield

Slicing off ears was not a pleasant task, especially in an environment full of mutilated corpses and brain matter.

Many among the Pingyuan warriors had vomited several times; some were sick from the hellish scene, and some were still shaken by the battle.

This wasn't a surprise. No matter how strong one's will, thoughts of what just occurred could turn one's stomach.

Yet, one warrior among the lucky survivors was not feeling sick at all. He had a lean figure, was expressionless, and he effortlessly walked among the dead.

The way he walked resembled a crane skipping across a pond. Whenever his sword fell, ears of the enemy soldiers flew up, were caught by his blade, and dropped perfectly into the black sack on his back.

The whole process was seamless and even had an unnatural beauty.

Soon, his bag held at least 300 ears, and each ear was cut as neatly as a polished leather purse.

Even veteran warriors, who were given the "Three Leaf" title, couldn't have had such perfect skills in slicing off ears, yet, this black-haired young warrior, who had been at war for but a month, achieved it with ease.

This warrior had also defeated countless enemies in all the earlier battles with a few swings of the sword, overwhelming the Luosheng warriors' spirit.

He was the one to charge in front. He had used up seven crystal swords; other than the first sword, which was issued by his kingdom, he acquired the rest from the enemy, and cut down no fewer than forty enemies with each sword.

Which was why, while he hadn't killed as many as 300 Luosheng warriors, no one among the remaining Pingyuan warriors dared to question why he owned so many enemies' ears.

They quietly gave him a wide berth.

No life remained in the area. Wherever this young warrior walked, any spoils among the corpses belonged to him.

Even when a few new warriors wanted to ask why this man got to keep so many ears, they were stopped by more veteran soldiers.

This battlefield may have had fights over enemy ears or other war spoils elsewhere, but this black-clad warrior produced no questions.

"Who is this guy? If he was so good, why is he still fighting with us minions?" a new warrior couldn't resist asking.

He spat while his gaze followed the black shadow. "Didn't they say the best warriors from this battle would get picked to join that mystic academy or something?"

The veteran warrior next to him was in a bloody and tattered uniform; his sword was missing from its distorted handle.

The veteran looked down to carefully slice off a dead enemy's ear. "Don't worry about it. It's none of your business. If the bosses don't think Yang has any mystic potential, what can we do?"

"But if someone this good can't be a mystic, what are they looking for?" The veteran grimaced. "Oh well, at least we're safe following behind him."

Everyone looked toward that lonely figure in the distance, each remembering the brave silhouette that had charged ahead.

This kind of warrior was a real man.

Why did the mystic training academy not pick him? At this moment, the remaining Pingyuan warriors all believed this black-haired warrior was their most trustworthy idol.

One warrior seemed to know more. "I heard the people from the mystic academy noticed him, and wanted to recruit him, but then they found out he couldn't cultivate Qi."

Everyone seemed to say "Oh" at the same time. The previously admiring gazes all turned into pity and disdain.

Some younger warriors were brutally honest. "I thought he was so powerful, but he is actually useless."

A warrior who couldn't cultivate Qi was not really a warrior.

Their gazes were now filled with a sense of superiority; even if that man was stronger than everyone else now, that was as strong as he was ever going to be.

The warriors' faces showed derisive grins as they mused. "We're weaker than you now, but we'll grow and get the cultivation manual for building Qi; we can become four-leaf, five-leaf, or even six-leaf warriors. Can you?"

Warriors who didn't cultivate Qi were forever stuck at the three-leaf level and
could only ever be soldiers.

What the gossiping warriors didn't know was that the young man heard everything they were saying as if they were next to him. His face remained calm.

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