13: Chapter 13: Generous Rewards Mobilize the Army, Military Merits Granted Land

That afternoon, the atmosphere in the camp changed completely.

The Mortals, previously silent and oppressed, seemed ignited by something, spontaneously beginning to organize weapons and reinforce fortifications.

The blacksmiths didn't need urging; they voluntarily worked overtime to forge iron spears and shields.

Several Mortals with experience as hunters gathered together, studying the route the Water Apes had taken in their attack last night, discussing how to plant wooden spikes outside the trenches.

Lu Changyuan walked slowly around the camp, silently noting these changes.

He walked to the east side of the camp, where a group of young Mortal Martial Artists were practicing coordination; their movements were clumsy, but they were exceptionally serious.

One youth was particularly conspicuous; he was short in stature with dark skin, holding a firewood chopper in his hand, repeatedly practicing the simplest chopping motion. Every strike was incredibly heavy, his shoulders and back taut like a bow.

Lu Changyuan stopped and watched him for a moment.

The youth felt the gaze, looked up, and met Lu Changyuan's eyes.

There was no evasion in his eyes, common among slaves; instead, there was a nearly stubborn clarity.

"What is your name?" Lu Changyuan asked.

The youth was stunned for a moment, then straightened his back: "Shi Jian."

"How long have you been practicing?"

"Three years," Shi Jian gripped the firewood chopper tightly, a hint of defiance in his tone, "No one taught me, I just practiced blindly on my own."

Lu Changyuan nodded, said nothing more, and turned to leave.

Shi Jian stood in place, watching that retreating figure, an inexplicable warmth rising in his heart, then he raised his blade again, chopping harder than before.

After returning to the Central Army tent, Lu Changyuan did not rest, but immediately called Lu Hu, Leng Feng, and several stewards over.

"Reorganize those who fought last night and are willing to fight today," he spread out a simple map, his tone steady, "Mortals will still be organized into squads of ten, but no longer based on familiarity. Hunters, blacksmiths, strong laborers, and those who are quick-footed must be separated and mixed. Appoint a squad leader for every five squads, overseen by Dao soldiers."

The old steward was taken aback: "Young Lord, are you afraid they will fall into chaos during the battle?"

Lu Changyuan looked up at him, "They will definitely fall into chaos."

He tapped his finger on the map, dividing the path between the camp and the high ground into three sections: "When charging head-on, as soon as there are too many people and vision becomes chaotic, trampling, colliding with each other, and friendly fire are most likely to happen. After mixing them, each team will have at least someone who can navigate, someone who can carry the wounded, and someone who can deliver the finishing blow. Even if people die in the front, those in the back will know which gap they need to fill."

Hearing this, Lu Hu's eyes shifted slightly.

This was forcing a group of Mortals into a barely usable auxiliary army.

"Also," Lu Changyuan continued, "Let me clarify the calculation of military merit again. Those who are wounded but do not retreat will be credited for bravery; those who drag back comrades will be credited for support; those who transport arrows and medical kits, or hold the flank gaps, will also be credited. What I want is to win the entire battle, not for anyone to rush forward and end up breaking the formation."

The several stewards exchanged glances, feeling a chill in their hearts.

They had originally thought that so-called military merit just meant cutting off more Water Ape heads to exchange for more fields. But according to the Young Lord's explanation, even carrying the wounded, transporting supplies, and filling gaps were being recorded. This meant that as long as one was willing to strive, not everyone had to risk their lives in head-on combat.

Once these rules were set, those in the camp who had been pale with fear now had a position where they could truly stand.

Soon, a rough wooden board was erected next to the high platform.

On it, a few lines of simple and clear characters were written with charcoal: Front line, flanks, transport, finishing blows, and medical aid all earn military merit; retreating in battle, fighting for credit and disrupting formation, or leaving the ranks without authorization will all be met with execution.

The characters were crudely written, but everyone could understand them.

Soon, circle after circle of people gathered in the camp.

Those who were literate read aloud at the front, while those who were illiterate pricked up their ears to listen. After each line was read, people in the back whispered it repeatedly, as if trying to carve these words into their brains one by one.

A tall, thin middle-aged man listened, then suddenly shouted: "Young Lord, my legs are slow, I can't kill Water Apes. If I only carry people and transport the wounded, does that count?"

The crowd immediately quieted down.

Lu Changyuan stood before the high platform, looking at the man indifferently: "It counts. If you drag someone who can kill Water Apes back from a pile of corpses, then whatever he kills the next time he enters the field, you will have a share."

As soon as these words fell, a collective, hushed intake of breath sounded from below.

Only at this moment did many people truly understand that the Young Lord wanted to squeeze every bit of use out of these three thousand lives.

By evening, each team began their final round of drills.

The Dao soldiers stood on the periphery, watching, while the squad leaders shouted out the steps at the top of their lungs. How to close the wooden shields, how to thrust iron spears through the gaps between shields, how to step back half a pace after seeing blood to let the person behind fill in, who should drag the wounded when they fall, and to which line one must drag them to be considered safe—they practiced over and over until everyone's legs were trembling.

The squad Shi Jian was in was trained the hardest.

Because he charged fast, and because the fellow villagers around him were not stupid. The squad leader watched them practice for a full two hours, and finally, when he pressed them to the ground to catch their breath, he cursed: "Don't think tomorrow is just about throwing your lives away. If you die without being of any use, the Young Lord won't even spare you a second glance."

Shi Jian lay in the mud, his chest heaving violently, but he took those words to heart.

Yes.

The Young Lord is not a kind man, nor does he need trash.

But precisely because of this, the path the Young Lord opened up was more believable than any empty, pretentious benevolence.

At night, Lu Changyuan sat alone in the main tent, repeatedly simulating tomorrow's tactics in his mind.

The Xuanwu Killing Formation would advance head-on, attracting the main force of the Water Apes.

The Mortal Martial Artists would be divided into three groups: two groups would hold the flanks, and one group would be responsible for transporting arrows, delivering finishing blows, and clearing the battlefield.

Leng Feng would not be responsible for assassination; he would only be responsible for maneuvering and closing the net, waiting until he gave the signal to deliver the final blow.

As for himself, he would need to lock onto the Ape King on the battlefield and use the heavenly secret jade slip to find the weakest point of that beast.

The biggest variable in this battle was whether these three thousand Mortals could truly sustain the Qi he had ignited within them until after they had seen blood.

The next morning, in front of the high platform in the center of the camp, three thousand Mortals had spontaneously assembled.

Some clutched iron spears in their hands, some carried rough wooden shields on their backs, some had firewood choppers tucked into their waists—they were clearly the cheapest weapons, yet at this moment, they were gripped with Killing Intent.

Lu Changyuan stood on the high platform, looking at them, his expression calm.

He did not repeat yesterday's promises, but simply raised his hand and pointed to the jungle outside the trench, his tone clear and direct: "You are not going to your deaths; you are going to seize your lives."

"The lives you seize belong to you. The fields you seize will also be your own."

"Whoever retreats in battle will be executed by military law. Whoever leads the charge and earns merit, I, the Young Lord, will personally record his top achievement."

There was a moment of silence below.

Then, someone roared low and raised their weapon.

That low roar quickly spread, like fire burning along dry grass, rapidly igniting the air of the entire camp.

Lu Hu stood to the side, watching this group of red-eyed Mortals, finally understanding why Lu Changyuan had first given them fields, and then laws.

Fields were a way to survive; laws were a delusion.

A way to survive could force people to risk their lives; a delusion could make people forget they were Mortals.

Lu Changyuan said nothing more, just turned and stepped off the platform, speaking indifferently: "Move out."

After the force entered the jungle, a sense of oppression quickly descended.

The trees were tall, blocking out the sky and sun; sunlight could only leak in through the gaps in the leaves, like shredded golden threads. The ground beneath was damp and soft, with thin frost spreading along the grass blades and rock crevices; the deeper they went into the hinterland, the heavier the cold became.

But this time, no one retreated.

Shi Jian walked at the very front of the Mortal force, his knuckles white from gripping his firewood chopper. He didn't know if he would survive, but he knew that if he didn't fight today, he would really only be a slave for the rest of his life.

After walking for about an hour, the jungle ahead suddenly cleared, and a wide high ground appeared before everyone's eyes.

On the high ground, dense masses of Green-Scaled Water Apes had already assembled.

They were covered in blue-green scales, with ghostly green eyes and protruding fangs, standing among rocks and ancient trees like a breathing tide. In the center of the high ground, a giant ape, several times larger than its peers, slowly rose; its scales were pitch-black and shiny, and every heave of its chest carried immense pressure.

In the Mortal force, some immediately turned pale.

Lu Changyuan, however, only raised his hand and calmly gave the order: "Remember what you heard yesterday. Today, whoever kills the most, changes their fate."

This sentence was like a nail, driven directly into everyone's brains.

The first Water Ape roared and charged out of the high ground; waiting to meet it were the red eyes of these three thousand people from the camp.