Chapter 85: Student Council

“What’s wrong?” Fang Qingyun’s expression turned cold. “Didn’t you just say you’d listen to me? What’s changed now?”

“It’s not that…”

“Then what is it?” Fang Qingyun sneered. “Are you trying to push me to the front? After I hit the upperclassmen, you all run away, leaving me as the target, making me take the heat for you?”

“How could that be?!” Yang Xiu protested. “We will absolutely follow your lead…”

“I don’t believe you. If you’re so sure, then you go first. Lead the way!” Fang Qingyun sneered. “Otherwise, I won’t feel reassured.”

A barrage of curses surged through Yang Xiu’s mind, most of which he hadn’t even dared imagine before.

Now that you put it that way, I don’t dare go either.

What if I go up and you wash your hands of it? What’ll I do then?

Wouldn’t I just be falling into your trap?

Probably, dropping out would be my only option.

“Hmph!” Fang Qingyun snorted. “You don’t even dare yourself, but you want to coax me into doing it—what a despicable tactic.”

Yang Xiu’s face turned bright red in an instant.

Zhao Junhong, watching from the side, grinned. “Of course, if you go first, do you think we’ll follow?”

With that single sentence, all the courage Yang Xiu had just managed to muster instantly deflated.

“It’s just like how we don’t know if, after we make a move, you’ll do anything at all.”

“In the end, you can only rely on yourself!” Fang Qingyun drawled, then turned and walked away.

Unwilling to give up, Yang Xiu called after him, “But, but, these bad traditions—”

“Enough!” Even the upperclassmen couldn’t stand to watch anymore. One of them barked, “You think you’re the only clever one here, and the rest of us are idiots? You think a few words from you can represent the will of all the new students, crown a new king, or use others as your pawns? Moron!”

Yang Xiu’s face alternated between red and pale.

The two people beside him had already quietly picked up their brooms and begun cleaning again.

At this moment, Yang Xiu stood there like a clown.

Under the mocking gazes of the upperclassmen, blood rushed to his head.

A clown—was that what he’d become?

He nearly coughed up blood in anger.

Such bad traditions!

They must be changed!

He must change them!

Yang Xiu’s expression twisted with resentment as he stared at Fang Qingyun’s receding figure, his eyes full of spite.

Sometimes, hating someone can be that simple, that irrational.

Even if you didn’t fall into their trap or suffer at their hands, you could still become the object of someone else’s resentment.

…

As for Yang Xiu’s matter, Fang Qingyun and Zhao Junhong forgot about it the moment they turned away.

Older students bullying newcomers—it happened everywhere. The only difference was how far it went.

As for the Northwest Military Academy, Fang Qingyun didn’t even consider this a vice.

They were about to head to the battlefield—if one couldn’t endure even this, how could anyone rely on them later on?

Besides, what was so bad about being bullied? If you had what it took, then bully them right back.

“You know,” Zhao Junhong suddenly remarked, “this isn’t really a bad tradition. In fact, the higher-ups at Northwest Military Academy probably encourage it on purpose.”

“Oh?” Fang Qingyun looked at Zhao Junhong in surprise. “While I’m not against it—in fact, I think it’s good for the weak to strive to become stronger—but can something like this really be done on purpose?”

“No.” Zhao Junhong shook his head. “Yang Xiu was half-right. It’s a test.”

Fang Qingyun thought for a moment. “So the higher-ups want to see how the freshmen handle it?”

“Exactly.”

Zhao Junhong smiled. “Think of the Northwest Military Academy as a battlefield. When you face an opponent stronger than yourself, just like in war, how do you win?”

“Some people choose to ally with some and suppress others; others quietly grow stronger, biding their time. Every possible method is used. It’s said that some student tactics have even been adopted by the war zone command.”

“That’s really…” Fang Qingyun was a little speechless. “Whatever. It’s not really our concern. If anyone has the guts to mess with us, let them try. Come on, let’s go submit this task, then pick up a few more.”

“Deal!” Zhao Junhong grinned. “This time, we can finally buy an advanced off-road vehicle. Damn it, so much time wasted just getting to and from the mission sites.”

“True. With a better vehicle, we’ll save enough time to take on even more missions.”

…

Beacon Fortress.

Meeting Room One.

The secretaries all kept their heads bowed, staring at their toes as if they were gazing at a breathtaking landscape.

Even their ears drooped.

If they could, they would gladly turn deaf for a while.

Because the argument they most dreaded was erupting right now.

The entire room was stifling.

Two old men stared coldly at each other.

One had a steely face and a towering frame. Just sitting there, he exuded an aura of command.

Though he was alone, he seemed to carry the might of an army.

The other’s gaze was cold and sinister, snake-like. One look at him and you felt uneasy.

The first was Xiang Tian, Warden of Beacon Fortress, Supreme Commander of the war zone, one of the Empire’s Ten Marshals.

The other was Snake King Liu Hen, Deputy Commander of the war zone, also one of the Empire’s Ten Marshals.

At this moment, these two most powerful men in the war zone faced off in icy silence.

Xiang Tian spoke in a cold voice: “The demonfolk are bringing in more troops by the day. We should call for reinforcements and wait for our follow-up forces before taking any action.”

Snake King sneered, “By then, it will already be too late. Better to strike now, before they’re fully prepared, and break through their fortress.”

“Reckless!” Xiang Tian roared. “They may be unprepared, but are we ready? Their stronghold is stronger than ours—how do we attack by force?”

“If we don’t give it our all, how will we know?”

“You—”

Xiang Tian grew livid. “This is a battlefield! We command six hundred thousand troops—living, breathing men. Are you ready to gamble with their lives?”

Snake King’s reply was as cold as ever. “Over the years, more than a million have died under your command. What’s six hundred thousand more?”

Xiang Tian glared at Snake King, his voice frigid. “Liu Hen, remember—I am the Supreme Commander here!”

“Of course,” Snake King replied coolly. “You’re in charge. So why bother asking me at all? What a waste.”

“All right, all right. You two—aren’t you a little old for these quarrels?” A round-faced, smiling man spoke up, stepping between them. “Marshal Xiang prefers caution, which is sensible. Marshal Snake has his reasons too. But in my view, minimizing casualties is always best.”

Snake King laughed coldly. “You think waiting for them to attack first will reduce our losses?”

With that, he turned and strode away.

All those loyal to Snake King followed him out.

In a blink, half the room was empty.

Xiang Tian and the Duke exchanged glances in silence.

Yet at this moment, though the Duke still smiled outwardly, there was not a trace of mirth in his eyes.

“A predictable outcome, wouldn’t you say?” Zhu Yao sighed as he watched Snake King’s sullen face.

Snake King scoffed, “Caution, caution—that’s all he knows. Does he have any idea how many have died because of his damned caution?”

Zhu Yao replied evenly, “You want them to risk everything, but of course they won’t. Even when they know you’re right, they’ll magnify the dangers.”

Snake King’s cold smile revealed sharp, snake-like fangs.

His icy grin radiated nothing but menace.

“Unfortunately, nothing ever goes as they wish. On the battlefield, only those who dare risk their lives have the right to speak.”

Zhu Yao felt a headache coming on.

He knew his master was about to stir up trouble again.

He had always been this kind of man.

In order to destroy more demons and fiends, time and again he had gambled his own life, using himself as bait.

Perhaps even he wondered why he was still alive.

For years, the human and demon fortresses had been twin meat grinders, devouring endless lives.

Not long ago, human scouts discovered the demonfolk were massing troops.

Several powerful demon clans had sent their strongest to the fortress, clearly planning something big.

The pressure on humanity mounted at once.

But Snake King saw this as a golden opportunity.

Since its founding, the human race had grown in the cracks between two great races.

The demons and fiends were not united.

Demons and fiends fought among themselves as well.

Right now, the demon fortress was just such a powder keg.

Several powerful clans had sent reinforcements, but they were at each other’s throats, on the verge of civil war.

Compared to their real enemies, what were humans? Nothing but food.

That was the prevailing view among the demons.

Snake King believed they should concentrate all their strength and launch an all-out assault on the demon fortress.

But Supreme Commander Xiang Tian vehemently opposed him.

Thus, the scene in the meeting room.

As Snake King’s secretary, Zhu Yao knew well that this really was a rare opportunity.

Several powerful demon clans reinforcing the demon fortress—at their strongest and also their weakest.

At this very moment, for some unknown reason, Duke Lu of the Empire had come to the fortress.

Marshals wielded the Empire’s military power.

Dukes ruled vast fiefs and established their own domains.

Both were among humanity’s mightiest.

Snake King wanted to draw him in.

With three top human leaders united, they might just break through the demon stronghold in one stroke.

If everything went right, it wasn’t impossible.

Unfortunately, some people simply didn’t care. If they managed to break the demon fortress, the glory would be immense. But if they failed?

They’d bear a staggering cost—and face harsh reckoning from the Empire.

Zhu Yao heaved a sigh.

Snake King suddenly asked, “What about those two youngsters?”

Zhu Yao started, then quickly replied, “I gave them emergency training, then sent them out to do tasks on their own. They’ve adapted remarkably fast—at this rate, they’ll be ready for the battlefield in half a year.”

“Too slow!” Snake King spat out two words.

Too slow?

Zhu Yao was speechless.

What did he mean, too slow?

By any standard, those two youngsters were progressing at breakneck speed.

Could it be that Snake King planned to involve them in the coming assault on the demon fortress?

Who knew…

“Send them a message. In one month, I’ll assign them a mission. Tell them to focus on growing stronger in the meantime.”

“S-snake King!” Zhu Yao was stunned.

Had he lost his mind?

Those two weren’t even at the general rank, yet you want to give them an assignment? Personally?

You’re a Marshal of the Empire, a man who holds the Marshal’s scepter, a pillar of the military.

A single word from you is as heavy as a mountain—enough to crush countless people.

Now you want to meddle with two fledglings?

Zhu Yao felt a chill run down his spine.

…

If you asked who held the most power at the Northwest Military Academy, the upperclassmen would answer without hesitation: the Student Council.

Snake King had dominated the Beacon war zone for decades and established the Northwest Military Academy here to supply talent to the front.

He rarely appeared in person.

The teachers each had their own roles—most were officers or wounded warriors, responsible for running the school.

Student management fell to the Student Council.

One president, two vice-presidents, and one inspector.

The Four Pillars of the Student Council.

At this moment, two dossiers lay before them.

Fang Qingyun and Zhao Junhong.

“What’s with these two kids?” The Student Council president, just returned from the front, frowned as he read their files.

“Freshmen? Did they cause trouble?”

“No,” replied Vice President Cui Sheng calmly. “On the contrary, it’s good news.”

“Oh?”

“Take a look at this.” Cui Sheng handed over a document.

The president glanced at it—and shot to his feet in astonishment. “So many?”

The dossier was filled with completed missions.

“Those two maniacs!”

There was no better word for it—maniacs.

Three missions per day on average, no breaks, and in half a month they had completed fifty missions.

Two powerful madmen!

“Are they aiming for promotion?” The president narrowed his eyes.

“Yes,” Cui Sheng replied. “They’ve done enough to qualify for B-rank, which requires your signature.”

With their accumulated points, the two could be promoted and take on B-rank missions.

But, as customary, the president’s signature was still required.

He did not hesitate, picking up his pen to sign.

Just then, a hand pressed his down.

“Cui Sheng?” The president frowned at his trusted aide.

At that moment, his mind ran through many thoughts.

First and foremost: Cui Sheng might be worried about his own position.

Given how fast Fang Qingyun and Zhao Junhong were rising, it wouldn’t be long before they threatened the standing of everyone in the Council—including the president.

But as a fourth-year about to graduate and spend most of his time at the front, the current president didn’t care. He’d be glad to see a capable new leader emerge.

The Northwest Military Academy was their rear base. Stability here meant peace at the front.

But for the two newly-promoted third-year vice presidents, the rise of Fang Qingyun and Zhao Junhong was like a bolt from the blue.

Just two weeks after enrolling, they’d completed more than fifty missions—were they superhuman?

Barring unforeseen events, these two would inevitably become president and vice president.

And since they were close, the Council would surely fall under their control.

Where would that leave the current junior vice presidents?

The more the president thought about it, the colder his gaze became.

Were they plotting against the school’s prodigies?

“Don’t misunderstand,” Cui Sheng said frankly. “I do covet the presidency, but I have no wish to antagonize those two monsters. The gap is too great—there’s no real competition.”

They had beaten intermediate warriors right after enrolling. Many of their recent missions were top-tier C-rank tasks usually reserved for advanced warriors.

In another year, who could stand against them?

The presidency was tempting, but not worth making enemies of such talents.

To sacrifice one’s future for a year of authority—only a fool would do that.

The president’s expression softened slightly. “Then what do you mean?”

“It’s not just me.” The other vice president, Qin Ran, spoke for the first time.

“We propose sending Fang Qingyun and Zhao Junhong to Chaos City.”

The president instantly understood. “The Blood Axe Gang?”

“Exactly.”

“Nonsense!” he snapped. “Matters involving the Blood Axe Gang are always handled by the president and vice presidents personally, and even then, the risks are enormous. How can you send two freshmen?”

Cui Sheng maintained his calm. “We need to train them up as quickly as possible. The front lines are desperate for warriors. Besides, the three of us have a shared concern.”

“A concern?”

The inspector finally spoke, turning to the president. “We believe the current Student Council has a problem with its management.”

“What do you mean?” The president’s face darkened. Was this an accusation?

He prided himself on his diligence and care during his tenure.

“One year,” said the inspector.

With those words, the president fell silent.

The Student Council undoubtedly wielded immense power.

But their term was too short.

Typically, second-years became vice presidents, third-years became president.

By fourth year, they spent most of their time at the front.

That meant—

The new president barely had time to get familiar with the school and students before having to groom a successor and head to the front.

In such a short time, what could they really accomplish?

“Let’s hear your plan,” the president said.

“Send these two to take on the Blood Axe Gang mission. If they succeed, they can join the Council and get familiar with its workings—then, by the end of their first year or the start of their second, they could become president and vice president,” Cui Sheng explained. “That way, they could lead the Council for two years or even longer.”

There was another point Cui Sheng left unsaid.

He and Qin Ran had always been rivals. Whichever became president, the other would hardly be at ease.

Say Cui Sheng became president—he might trust Qin Ran’s character, but what about Qin Ran’s loyalists?

Who could guarantee Qin Ran would accept defeat graciously?

“Very well.” The president was decisive. “Let’s treat this as an experiment and see if it works.”

“Qin Ran, you contact Fang Qingyun and Zhao Junhong personally. Ask if they’re willing to take this mission. If not, so be it—they’re both promising talents, destined to become the bane of the demons in the future.”

“Understood,” Qin Ran agreed with a nod.