Chapter 66: The Military Department, the Ruthless Iron Hand

Zhou Yan and Luo Ke followed Luo Xuan as she led them across the plaza.

Along the way, they passed groups of young people arrayed in various formations, each gripping a longsword and practicing the Nam Ming Sword techniques with absolute precision.

These young men wore uniforms distinct from those of Luo Xuan and Zhou Yan. Instead of the white base with red trim worn by the ordinary sword hall, their attire was black with red patterns, giving them a far more austere and martial air.

“Those are members of Vermilion Bird Palace’s ‘Military Division’,” Luo Xuan explained calmly when she noticed Zhou Yan glancing around. “Unlike the Nam Ming Sword Hall, the Flame Pavilion here is the backbone organization of all the main cities within the Vermilion Bird District. It oversees the city’s armed forces, namely the Military Division. The difference between these people and you is…” She cast Zhou Yan a sidelong look, her tone even. “They’re soldiers cultivated with imperial military funds, while the Nam Ming Sword Hall is a public institution open to the people, providing a way for civilians to learn martial arts.”

Zhou Yan nodded, curiosity glinting in his eyes. “So, between them and the Sword Hall, who’s stronger?”

“In terms of the proportion of individual elites, the Sword Hall is slightly higher. But in sheer numbers of true experts, the Military Division far surpasses us,” Luo Xuan replied with composure.

Zhou Yan seemed thoughtful. “Will the Military Division send people to participate in this exchange?”

“They will,” Luo Xuan answered with certainty. “Every year, the chief recruit from the Military Division will spar with the Sword Hall’s top student in a special match.”

“Chief?” Zhou Yan’s interest was piqued.

Luo Xuan nodded. “The main goal of the exchange is to determine the year’s most outstanding batch of students. The strongest among them will be awarded the title of ‘Chief’.”

She glanced at Zhou Yan. “Are you thinking of competing for that position?”

Zhou Yan smiled and narrowed his eyes. “Xuan, you know—men can hardly resist the urge to become ‘the strongest’…”

Beside them, Luo Ke stroked her chin and nodded solemnly, affecting a thoughtful air. “Indeed… men are such curious creatures—they’d risk everything just to hear ‘you’re impressive’…”

Luo Xuan only shook her head. “Much as I’d like to encourage you, you’ve only been training with the sword for a short time. This year, I’ve heard a few prodigies have emerged. If you wish to become the strongest, you may have to wait until next year.”

She didn’t say Zhou Yan was incapable of becoming the best—only that he’d need to wait until next year. Clearly, even Luo Xuan, a prodigy herself, believed that with Zhou Yan’s talent, a year of training would be enough to astonish everyone.

But for now, his foundation was still too shallow.

Zhou Yan smiled, offering no rebuttal.

He simply followed Luo Xuan into the Flame Pavilion, where they found the department responsible for registration.

*

The registration went smoothly. At Luo Xuan’s request, the staff assigned them two rooms—the sisters shared a twin, while Zhou Yan had his own.

Chatting amiably, the three took the elevator up to the higher floors of the apartment building and stopped outside their respective rooms.

Luo Xuan checked the numbers, then handed a key card to Zhou Yan. “This is your room—1606. Luo Ke and I are in 1607. Rest for a while, and at mealtime I’ll have food sent up from the cafeteria. We won’t train today; save your energy for the matches tomorrow.”

“All right.” Zhou Yan took the card, bid the sisters goodbye, and entered his room.

The accommodations were simple—a bed, a desk and chairs, and a wardrobe.

Zhou Yan quickly unpacked, sat on the bed, and happened to glance at the ever-ticking countdown.

[Next Walk in the Calamity Realm: 3 days, 4 hours, 18 minutes, 22 seconds.]

Three days left until his fourth journey…

According to Luo Xuan, this exchange’s “competition” would last five days, with daily “exchange matches” for each Sword Hall representative. If he made it through the first three rounds, he’d face another Calamity Realm walk before the semifinals and finals.

“If the rewards from this fourth Calamity Realm walk are great enough, perhaps I’ll have the right to compete with those so-called prodigies…” Zhou Yan mused.

What he truly desired was to contend with his own strength, not by relying on equipment, Fategear, or over-fusions.

He longed to fight for the title of strongest, but that didn’t mean he would carelessly reveal all his cards.

After a brief contemplation, he dismissed his concerns.

No use overthinking—best to adjust his state and prepare for the “first battle” tomorrow.

*

The next morning, early.

As usual, Zhou Yan woke before dawn.

After a quick wash, he began his routine training within the confines of his room. The space was limited, and not knowing if there were cameras, he refrained from practicing his breathing techniques.

Still, basic bodyweight exercises and Nam Ming Sword shadow drills had become ingrained habits—he felt ill at ease if he skipped even a little.

After repeating the routine three times, his phone rang.

He checked it—sure enough, Luo Xuan had messaged him, telling him to get ready, have breakfast in the cafeteria, and then head to the exchange venue together.

Finishing his workout, he showered quickly. With the mechanical hand Luo Ke had made for him, everyday tasks such as bathing were now far easier than before.

Afterward, he dialed Luo Xuan.

“We’re at the cafeteria on the third floor of the main building. Just come straight down,” came her voice amid the noisy background.

“All right.”

Zhou Yan hung up, left his room, and pressed the elevator button.

“Ding.”

Moments later, as the doors slid open, Zhou Yan’s brows lifted slightly at the scene inside.

Two groups were squared off in cold silence.

One group was unmistakably Zheng Keren and his lackey, Zhao Jie; the other comprised three youths in Nam Ming Sword Hall attire.

As the doors opened, both groups turned to look at Zhou Yan.

Zheng Keren frowned, but Zhao Jie’s eyes lit up. He stepped forward, arm outstretched. “Sorry, it’s full. Wait for the next one.”

Zhou Yan glanced at him coolly, head slightly bowed.

The next instant, he reached out, seized Zhao Jie’s collar, and with a gentle tug, yanked him out of the elevator.

Catching on too late, Zhao Jie tried to resist, but to his horror, Zhou Yan’s strength was unassailable—he could only stumble out, helpless.

“If it’s full, then you can get out instead,” Zhou Yan remarked as he strode into the elevator.

“What do you think you’re doing!” Zheng Keren, seeing his companion humiliated, immediately blocked Zhou Yan’s path, shoving his palm toward him.

But Zhou Yan was ready—he twisted aside, left hand forming a blade, and struck swiftly at Zheng Keren’s neck.

Zheng Keren reacted quickly, switching from attack to defense in surprise. In a heartbeat, the two exchanged three blows, palms as swords.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Three sharp metallic echoes rang out.

“Ah!” Zheng Keren cried in pain, snatching back his left hand, face contorted.

Zhou Yan made no move to pursue. He simply withdrew his left hand, gloved in black, with a faint smile. “Sorry, I’m disabled—my left hand’s artificial.”

He tugged his glove back just enough to reveal the metal beneath.

“Not hurt, are you?”