The sudden appearance of a situation in the marked red zone disrupted their original rhythm, adding chaos to an already frantic scene.
While it was normal for unforeseen issues to arise during the execution of a plan, the number of unexpected complications in this mission was simply too much!
“Stop!” A somewhat panicked voice came from the command seat—it was Zhou Xiuwen. His eyes were bloodshot, and he was practically grinding his teeth as he stared at the live footage… at the people in it.
How could this be? How was it possible? Why were those two here? Shouldn’t they have already left?
Zhou Xiuwen didn’t realize that his jaw was clenched, his eyes red with fury, and his entire body radiating a violent aura, like a provoked lion asserting its dominance to all.
The command room, which had been a chaotic mess of voices moments before, fell silent in an instant. Everyone turned to him with complex expressions, looking at the man chosen as the successor to the former lord of the battlefield.
Not everyone present had watched Zhou Xiuwen grow up, but every single one was a trusted confidant of Zhou Yuanjing. They had followed that imperial marshal through countless campaigns, rising to their lofty positions, and each was a seasoned veteran.
Yet, not all of them approved of Zhou Xiuwen.
Though they were absolutely loyal to Zhou Yuanjing, that didn’t mean they could easily accept a young upstart taking over the power Zhou Yuanjing had built over years without effort—even if that upstart was Zhou Yuanjing’s only son.
The tasks Zhou Xiuwen had taken on before were completed competently, without major errors, but they were unremarkable, lacking any standout achievements. This only reinforced their prior opinions, leaving them somewhat uneasy about the future of the legion under his leadership.
Until today, most of them had firmly believed Zhou Xiuwen took after his maternal grandfather—gentle, mild-mannered, and indecisive, better suited to being a mediocre politician than a general commanding the battlefield.
But in that fleeting moment just now, their view of this seemingly frail young man shifted.
He might inevitably carry the ingrained gentleness of his mother’s lineage, but he was still Zhou Yuanjing’s son, with the blood and pride of that battlefield god running through his veins.
He might not yet be a lion, but he was undoubtedly a young cub yet to fully mature.
Zhou Xiuwen couldn’t hear the questions directed at him, momentarily forgetting his responsibilities. His eyes were fixed solely on the screen, where his two friends were pinned to the ground by powerful air currents.
What was happening? How had things come to this?
---
“Damn it, what’s going on? How did they end up there? Where are the military’s people?”
On another side, someone was cursing bitterly.
“A bunch of useless idiots.” It wasn’t clear who he was cursing.
The young man quickened his movements, rapidly typing a long string of indecipherable characters into the command interface. He checked off options on the panel, then pressed the confirm button without heeding the prompts before swiftly leaving the control room.
Not long after he left, someone knocked on the control room door, intending to update the person inside with the latest situation—only to find the room empty.
Huan Xian had left.
The operation panel still displayed a prompt indicating a transfer to a mobile device, along with a series of follow-up arrangements completed by the operator before leaving.
The young man who had burst in was initially anxious to contact Huan Xian upon realizing the commander was gone. But with a sidelong glance, he noticed that Huan Xian had already anticipated the next steps of the deployment. For the situation the young man was about to report, Huan Xian had provided a specific and accurate plan, as if he were standing there discussing it in person.
How could Huan Xian have calculated this far when much of the intelligence might not even have reached him in time? Could there really be such a thing as a “natural-born commander”?
The young man had been skeptical before, but now he couldn’t help but believe.
He reviewed the next two or three instructions Huan Xian had left and realized the commander had thoroughly grasped the entire battlefield, arranging everything along the battle lines with precision.
Even if there were slight deviations, they wouldn’t be significant. As long as they followed this overarching framework, there wouldn’t be any major issues. So, Huan Xian’s brief absence didn’t seem likely to cause any real problems…
Only now did the young man truly grasp how formidable Huan Xian was. What kind of person could “plan ten steps ahead with every move,” anticipating the enemy’s actions?
This young man didn’t even belong to their Third Army or any military legion. Huan Xian, this special commander, answered only to the military… to the Empire. Without orders from above, even their legion commander couldn’t overly interfere with his decisions.
Fine, then. Since Huan Xian had already arranged everything, there was little to say. It would be shameless for a group of adults to rely on a not-fully-awakened young man to control the entire situation.
After all, he was only here to help—completely voluntarily. They couldn’t exactly complain that he didn’t see it through to the end, could they? Besides, it wasn’t as if he’d left things unfinished; he’d just stepped away briefly, and his command strategies were already laid out in advance…
For a young man to achieve this much, the rest was up to the adults.
Resigned, the young man took over the tasks for this section, likely something Huan Xian had already anticipated. But where had such a meticulous person gone, abandoning this critical work? What could be so urgent?
There was something—something very urgent.
---
The fierce wind roared, battering her body and making her coat flap wildly. Jiang Hui felt that it wouldn’t be long before this knife-like wind tore through the slightly protective outer layer of her coat.
Heavens, couldn’t it hold up just a bit longer?! She was certain the inner lining wasn’t nearly as sturdy as the coat.
Jiang Hui didn’t want to die looking this pathetic… If this was her second death, couldn’t she at least get a more dignified end?
She didn’t dare imagine what would happen if Clarens, pinned beneath her, were exposed. Would he be torn away by the wind? If that happened, he’d be done for.
With this thought, she struggled to crawl upward, using her shoulder to press down on the person beneath her, who seemed to be barely moving.
The relentless gale continued to batter the two, who were already at their breaking point.
—And that wasn’t even the worst of it.
Jiang Hui strained to move her stiff neck. Though she couldn’t turn to look upward, she could already sense a dark shadow looming over them, as something massive hurtled toward their position at terrifying speed.