144: Chapter 144 Oath-taking Ceremony and Command of Generals: Life and Death in Their Hands (2)

The Right Wing Personnel Dispatch Department—He Zhengyuan turned and ran. He hadn't even run ten steps on the drill ground—ten steps later, a black-armored personal guard slammed into him from the side. It was a knee that struck him. The knee drove into the side of He Zhengyuan's waist—one of the most vulnerable spots on the human body.

He Zhengyuan's entire body folded upward from the waist—the moment the knee struck, his upper and lower body formed an angle no living person could naturally achieve. His body flew out to the side—crashing into the Array Pattern flagpole, causing the Array Pattern on the pole to flash with a dull gold light. He slid down the flagpole—by the time he slid to the ground, he was already motionless.

The Military Supplies Coordination Department Left Wing Warehouse Chief—Zheng Bai did not run. He stood in the third row of the Unified Coordination Department square formation on the right side of the drill ground—his hands hung at his sides, fingers opening and clenching, clenching and opening. He flipped open his lapel—sewn into the inside of the lapel were three dark red storage rings. Three storage rings—each containing the original ledgers of military supplies allocation that had passed through the Warehouse Chief's hands. As he flipped open his lapel, he knelt on one knee.

"Commander—this subordinate holds all the original ledgers for the Military Supplies Coordination Department's Left Wing warehouse. Over the past three years—a total of forty-six shipments of military supplies were transferred into the private treasury of East District 3 through my hands. It is not just seven shipments."

Right Commander Li Feng's fingers stopped on his knee. He tapped four times—then stopped. He moved his hand away from his knee—wiping his fingers on the hem of his battle robe. This action was exactly the same as when he wiped the bamboo shavings from his fingertips in the military tent—only this time, there were no bamboo shavings on his fingertips. No expression could be seen on his face—not even anger. The muscles on that thin, long face remained completely still—as if he were watching something that had absolutely nothing to do with him.

Commander Tie Zhan did not look at Right Commander Li Feng. He pressed his hand onto the surface of the iron desk—his five fingers spread out, pressing down on the desk engraved with Array Patterns. The Array Patterns on the desk were stimulated by his spiritual energy—a faint ripple of dull gold spread outward from where his palm made contact. The Spiritual Pressure of the False Infant Stage seeped down from the iron desk—passing through the bluestone bricks, through the hard soil layer, through the iron sand. Everyone on the drill ground felt a subtle vibration beneath their feet, traveling up along their shinbones.

"Vanguard Grain Officer Li Chuan. He Zhengyuan. Zheng Bai—accomplices. According to wartime military law—those who embezzle over one hundred items of military supplies, behead." Commander Tie Zhan lifted his hand from the iron desk—paused in the air for a breath—and slashed downward. "Behead."

Within two breaths, three sword lights flashed simultaneously across the drill ground. The first sword light was in the Vanguard Battalion square formation—Vanguard Grain Officer Li Chuan's head was severed from his neck, the cut clean and smooth. The second sword light was before the Array Pattern flagpole—He Zhengyuan's body, curled up at the base of the flagpole, twitched twice and then stopped; by the second twitch, the blood gushing from his chest had turned a very deep dark red. The third sword light was in the third row of the Unified Coordination Department square formation—the moment Zheng Bai's head was severed from his neck, his body still maintained a kneeling posture for a few breaths—his hand still clutching the three storage rings on his lapel.

The drill ground fell silent. The drill ground, holding over a hundred thousand people—within the three breaths after the sword lights flashed, no one made a sound. The soldiers of the Vanguard Battalion in the front row stood where they were—the lips of several soldiers were trembling—blood had splashed onto their faces. The splashed blood flowed down their cheeks, and when it reached their chins, they raised their hands to wipe it away. In the square formation in the back, someone was retreating—as they retreated, their heel stepped on the toes of the person behind them. The person behind did not make a sound—they simply pulled their feet back.

Commander Tie Zhan withdrew his hand back to the sword hilt. His fingers gripped the old, polished leather cord once again.

"Sin Battalion—step forward."

On the far left of the drill ground. Two thousand seven hundred people stepped forward simultaneously. Their footsteps struck the hard soil with a perfectly synchronized sound—thud. Just one sound. Commander Cai walked in the very front—the old scar on his face was half-covered by the shadow of the dark red military flag in the morning light. Behind him were two thousand seven hundred people who had an extra stain on their military records—there were troublemakers, rejects, those who were shoved in, and those who were thrown over. Everyone was walking forward. No one's hands were shaking—after lingering in the Sin Battalion for too long, the execution orders coming down from the Generals Review Platform were like thunder in the sky that had nothing to do with them.

On the far right of the formation—the fifth person in the fourth row counting from front to back—was Xue Mingyuan. He was barefoot—the mud on the tops of his feet had already dried, the dried mud cracking into several fine fissures. The old gray-yellow silk shirt he wore was exceptionally eye-catching amidst the surrounding sea of dark gray military uniforms. But he stood in the ranks—when the formation moved forward, he also took a step forward. The soldier next to him glanced at him—looking at the fact that he had no shoes on his feet, then pulled his own foot back half an inch, making way for him.

Commander Tie Zhan walked out from behind the iron desk—walking down the steps of the Generals Review Platform. Below the platform, the square formation of two thousand seven hundred people lined up before him. His battle armor did not reflect light in the morning sun—the dull gold armor plates looked like a reef dug out of sea mist.

"Logistics Supervision Department—Lu Changyuan."

Lu Changyuan walked forward from a position slightly to the right of the front of the drill ground. He walked past the Vanguard Battalion square formation—the soldiers in the formation automatically cleared a path. He walked past the center of the drill ground—the sea breeze blew the hem of his casual clothes to the left. Over his casual clothes, he wore a deep black military robe on the drill ground—the cuffs of the military robe had no trim. He walked to the front of the Generals Review Platform—standing half a step behind and to the side of Commander Tie Zhan, he turned around—facing the square formation of two thousand seven hundred people.

"Sin Battalion—from today on, you are directly under the command of Deputy Envoy Lu. Supplies that the Unified Coordination Department cannot manage—the Logistics Supervision Department will manage. The rations for the lowest-tier battalion—are void from today. The logistics for the Sin Battalion—will be issued according to the standard battalion allocation. Spiritual Rice—one stone per day for every hundred men. Armor plates—one replaced for every one damaged. Healing medicine—issued according to the quota for enlisted combat soldiers."

On the right wing of the drill ground—the direction where Right Commander Li Feng sat—the armrest of the iron chair was pinched by fingers. The force of the pinch was not heavy—but the position pinched was at the end of the armrest. The end of the armrest was a piece of spiritual wood engraved with Array Patterns—when the fingers pinched down, the Array Patterns on the spiritual wood caved in, forming an extremely fine crack. The sound of the spiritual wood cracking was extremely light—so light that only the person sitting in the chair could hear it.