Chapter Seventy-Five: Farewell, Departure

The two exchanged glances, their eyes filled with envy and desolation.

Once upon a time, they too were new recruits at the Military Academy. But failing their assessments, they ended up as ordinary soldiers. If not for being assigned to the logistics department, perhaps they would never have a chance to interact with such decorated heroes in their entire lives.

Leaving the logistics office, Du Huaishan strolled along, spinning his newly acquired hook-and-sickle spear. Compared to the standard training weapons, this one felt heavier and more solid in his hands. Fortunately, he had broken through the phase of integrated force, his strength greatly increased, and he could easily leverage his entire body’s muscles and bones, making the weapon feel just right.

The more he handled it, the more he liked it.

Returning to the dormitory, Tan Hai, Wu Ming, and the others immediately noticed the spear he carried, their excitement palpable—like monkeys spotting bananas atop Mount Wutai, they eagerly crowded around him.

“Whoa, Huaishan, is this the weapon you just exchanged for with your merits?”

“My goodness! That’s so cool!”

“Huaishan, tell us, what else can you exchange for with your merits? Let us broaden our horizons!”

“Look at this merit weapon, it’s different. The metal surface is patterned, cold to the touch…”

Du Huaishan briefly recounted the situation at the logistics department’s second floor merit exchange.

“Tsk tsk!” Wu Ming smacked his lips, his face full of envy. “That breech electric rifle you mentioned, I’m dying to get one. If only I had it on Qingshi Mountain, I’d have mowed down those demon ghosts!”

“Don’t worry, Wu, Tan Hai, you two actually have merits as well,” Du Huaishan said, instantly drawing everyone’s attention.

“Really?”

“Yes, anyone who participated in the extermination of the insect-headed demon ghost last time received a share of bronze stars. Though it wasn’t enough for a full star, so there’s no physical medal.”

Wu Ming was delighted at first, but quickly looked crestfallen. “By your conversion method, neither Tan Hai nor I have enough to exchange for much—maybe not even for a bottle of energy potion.”

Indeed, less than one bronze star split among four people, especially since Xu Yuan and Li Anqi contributed the most. It was likely the two would barely get 0.1 each.

“At least you can exchange for some bullets. One merit point can be exchanged for twenty rounds of Red Marrow rifle ammunition. I exchanged one point; let’s split it among us. Wu, I’ll give you a few extra—at a critical moment, they might be useful.”

Du Huaishan pulled a box of ammunition from his wool military coat and distributed it to the others.

Guo Tingyu took the box, examining the special silver-tipped bullets, so unlike the standard rifle rounds. In his mind, he was thinking about those miraculous training medicines.

His demon-fusion ratio had stalled at eight percent for a long time. Relying on the Academy’s weekly potion was too slow. To catch up with Du Huaishan’s progress, he needed additional medicines.

But he didn’t even have the tiny bit of merit that Wu and Tan Hai scraped together.

Truthfully, Guo Tingyu had even considered buying Du Huaishan’s merit with money, but everyone knew merit’s value couldn’t be measured in currency. Besides, since Du Huaishan’s promotion to second lieutenant, he was hardly short of silver.

It seemed his only option was to seize as much merit as possible on this mission.

Guo Tingyu’s goal was the top ten of the 173rd batch of recruits. Only with such strength could he hope to be selected for the Marshal’s Guard Battalion upon graduation. Entering that unit would mean he’d already stepped halfway into his dream of becoming a general.

“Hey, you all packed up quickly!” Yang Anfu squeezed in through the door.

He had also been assigned a real military order by the logistics officer: transferred to Ma Island logistics, responsible for coordinating the strategic supplies shipped to Shanlong Pass.

Ma Island City was a major city in the southern part of Pingliao Province, right beside Shanlong Pass—considered “on the frontline.”

After marveling at Du Huaishan’s new hook-and-sickle spear, Yang Anfu suggested they all go to the mess hall for lunch and ask Uncle Zhang to personally cook for them—a proper meal before their missions.

After all, once the real combat assignments began, who knew when the brothers of Class Eight would meet again.

“Alright, let’s have a proper feast!” Wu Ming slapped Yang Anfu’s shoulder. “Honestly, I really crave Fatty’s cooking.”

Yang Fatty opened his mouth, wanting to say something, then scratched his head. “...Well, since we’re all taking the afternoon trains, let’s tidy up and get to the mess hall!”

“Let’s go.”

“Hehe, let’s go!”

Du Huaishan changed out of his dress uniform into cotton armor, watching his brothers, arms draped around each other, reminiscent of the night before his senior-year internship.

He and his roommates had been just the same. After one meal, some chose graduate studies, some stayed at school, some went off to box, each pursuing their own goals, each choosing a different path in life.

He smiled unconsciously, then suddenly called out, “Wait, Fatty, take my beef and stew it with your pot.”

It seemed Yang Anfu feared they might not often taste his cooking again.

That meal, Yang Anfu cooked with particular care.

No one mentioned “farewell dinner,” nor spoke of “parting” in their conversations; instead, they simply reminded each other to take care.

Especially Yang Anfu and Zhao Xinhong, who would be undertaking their missions alone.

As the oldest “big brother” in the dorm, Wu Ming fussed at them before departure:

“Fatty, Xinhong, remember to take care of yourselves over there. If you get into arguments or face danger, hide first, don’t try to be a hero—wait till we gather, then we’ll have your back!”

“Don’t worry, what danger could logistics have? I’m off!” Yang Anfu patted Wu Ming’s belly and left, backpack slung over his shoulder.

Casual, as if they were just splitting up after lunch or heading to separate training sessions, with no formal goodbyes—like they’d see each other again soon.

The bleak wind grew sharper, midday sunlight obscured by dark clouds, and before anyone realized it, a misty drizzle began to fall.

Landing on Du Huaishan’s face, he touched it and felt its dampness.

It was spring rain.

At noon, soldiers from the First, Seventh, and Eighth training teams assembled at the Academy gate, each clad in armor, carrying packs, rifles slung left, Red Marrow sabers at their waists, trench daggers strapped to their legs.

Du Huaishan’s blue hook-and-sickle spear naturally drew many glances.

After handing over the military order signed by Chang Suian, the gate slowly opened.

They formed two columns and jogged to the military train station.

“Do you think Du Huaishan and the others have left by now?” In the 173rd recruits’ training ground office, Zhou Zhongai sipped his tea.

“They’re probably at the station,” Chang Suian glanced at the clock on the wall—12:30 PM. The phone rang. “Captain Chen? Yes, received. Alright, I’ll head over now.”

“Chen called you?” Zhou Zhongai asked instinctively after Chang Suian hung up.

Chang Suian nodded. “There’s movement at the new garrison, I need to check it out.” He opened his briefcase to reveal a brand-new officer’s uniform, with shoulder insignia: fine wool yellow base, two purple-red stripes, and three copper medals sewn in the center.

Yingzhou Army.

Captain, company commander!

At 1 PM, Du Huaishan arrived at the Garrison City train station. After checking their orders, the inspecting soldiers told them to wait on the concrete platform—the military train to Jiu was undergoing maintenance and would depart in fifteen minutes.

On the platform were not only their training teams, but also other recruits, infantry, and army soldiers.

Clearly, everyone’s destination was Jiu; to save resources, they were sharing a train.

Half a year had passed.

Returning to this familiar platform, many recruits felt nostalgic.

One pointed to a patch of concrete, saying he’d boarded a troop transport here to the Academy.

Back then, they knew nothing, curious about everything.

But now, the childishness had vanished from their faces. Their eyes showed a strange fierceness, their brows faintly marked with the bloodlust of veterans.

“Woo—!” Moments later, a massive black armored train rolled in, screeching with metal-on-metal, halting before them.

Du Huaishan couldn’t help but be awed by the gun turrets on the armored train.

On-duty soldiers ran to each door, unlocking them. “Board!”

The soldiers filed in.

Du Huaishan and his group shared a carriage with male recruits from the artillery division.

This carriage was far more “luxurious” than the one they’d ridden as new recruits. Besides the machine gun platform and dim tungsten bulbs, each side was lined with bunk beds for rest.

Each pair of carriages shared a restroom.

Clearly, the earlier train was truly a “coal wagon.”

Tan Hai excitedly lay on a bunk, stroking the bedding. “Hey, I’ve never had my own bunk before!”

Du Huaishan smelled coal dust in the yellow bedding, but for soldiers on a long journey, a place to rest was enough.

From Garrison City to Yanshun City was over five hundred kilometers, and the steam engine usually ran at sixty to eighty kilometers per hour.

“Ah, we’ll probably arrive around midnight!” Wu Ming flopped onto a bunk, using his arm as a pillow, sighing as Li Anqi walked past.

From this angle, he could see her proud curves.

It had to be said, she was the only one who could fill out cotton armor like that.

With the train’s whistle, the carriage began to sway, slowly pulling away from the station.

Xu Yuan and the others found their bunks.

Tan Hai and the others started chatting with the artillery recruits.

Turns out, these men were headed to Antai City to man the wall guns.

Antai City was Wu Ming’s hometown.

Everything was unfolding as Du Huaishan had originally analyzed—the Shanlong Pass battlefield was draining Yingzhou Army’s “blood,” impacting the defenses behind.

These artillerymen were replacements for the rotating garrison.

“Wu Ming, you don’t seem worried about your family,” Li Mingcheng remarked, seeing Wu Ming unmoved by news of his hometown.

“My dad’s the only one at home, but he’s a veteran hunter, very capable. He’s taken me hunting since childhood—always able to spot demon ghosts early and avoid them. If there’s any trouble, he’ll survive.”

Wu Ming, though from a single-parent family, was visibly proud when speaking of his father.

“Wu Ming, you can spot demon ghosts ahead of time?” Xing Zhenhao asked, surprised.

In theory classes, they’d learned that Yingzhou Army’s demon ghost reconnaissance relied on binoculars from high vantage points. Small units used balloons; medium units, airships. Large troop movements called for air force reconnaissance planes.

“Of course.” Wu Ming reclined comfortably. “Demon ghosts are living creatures. My dad says they have activity patterns. They don’t leave waste or need water, but you can track their footprints—walking, running, sprinting—all indicate their distance.”

“And their sense of smell and sight are sharp. When moving, you have to pay attention to wind direction and use vegetation for cover.”

With the topic of demon ghosts, everyone perked up, listening intently to Wu Ming’s experience.

Even the artillery recruits were drawn in.

After the Qingshi Mountain incident, Du Huaishan had specifically sought Wu Ming’s advice on wilderness survival—he had memorized these lessons well.

Leaning on his pillow, Du Huaishan took a book from his backpack: “White Elder Mountain Chronicles.”

He’d bought it from a bookshop before coming to the station.

Though Wu Ming had been to the region and could guide them, Du Huaishan wanted to familiarize himself with it through books first.

As the conversation continued, Xing Zhenhao and the others grew sleepy, and soon the carriage was filled with snores, irritating Li Anqi and her fellow female soldiers.

After about two hours, the armored train stopped at the first station—Iron Mountain City, as Li Anqi had mentioned.

Gradually, soldiers disembarked at each main city.

Outside, darkness fell unnoticed.

Yingzhou Army’s train was considerate—at night, duty soldiers patrolled the carriages, handing out potatoes and coarse grain buns.

Not delicious, but filling.

Du Huaishan took out the dried beef Yang Fatty had prepared for him, chewing as he read.

“Are you devising a strategy?” After a long time, as Du Huaishan was sketching maps in his notebook, a voice sounded beside him.

He turned to find Xu Yuan standing nearby.

“Just getting familiar. The book has illustrations of the White Elder Mountain area—not military-grade, but at least it gives me a basic impression.”

Du Huaishan stretched, realizing everyone else was asleep.

Just then, the locomotive whistled, the train slowed and eventually stopped.

Crash.

The door was pulled open by the duty soldier, the platform’s floodlights shining into the dim carriage, making him squint instinctively.

The next moment, the soldier blew a sharp whistle:

“Yanshun City! We’ve arrived!”