65: Chapter 66 Divisional Team Combination

The team formation order for the No. 7 Rift Zone had just been nailed to the stone wall of the War Affairs Hall when Ning Hangce's figure blocked Ning Yanqiu's path, his tone leaving no room for negotiation: "Return to the formation with me."

His voice was not loud, but it was like a block of ice crashing into a boiling crowd; the War Affairs Hall fell silent by more than half in an instant.

The War Affairs Hall was already packed today. The urgent order from the Military Court, which had arrived before dawn, still had the lingering warmth on its red wax seal, yet its few lines of text shook everyone to the core—the outer front station of the No. 7 Rift Zone was opening up team formation qualifications, and all academies were to report their official frontline squads, determine seats, quotas, and merit accounts, with names to be submitted by noon.

This was not just some temporary team cobbled together in the academy! Once a name was signed into the registry, future war merits, access permissions, task shares, and even the first rations distributed at the front station would all be recorded by team. Who one was bound with was not about whether they liked each other or not; it was betting one's life on the frontline!

The area in front of the stone wall was teeming with people; Lu Jin, Qiao Ye, and Wen Zhao were already there. Ning Yanqiu stood in the front row, her hand still resting on the corner of the team formation order, and only when she heard these words did she slowly turn her head.

Ning Hangce stood half a step behind her, his silver-grey short cape accentuating his upright figure. The Cold Mirror direct lineage emblem on his shoulder was particularly striking, and his sleeves were neatly tapered. He was as steady as a Cold Mirror standing in the snow—bright but not dazzling—yet his presence caused everyone in the hall to look at him with wariness.

On the verge of Apprentice Perfection, a main control position of the Ning Family's same generation—this identity alone, standing there, carried the weight of a thousand jin.

Ning Yanqiu's gaze did not waver, and she asked straightforwardly: "Is this the Ning Family's intention?"

"The Family Head has approved it," Ning Hangce nodded, his tone crisp. "You can enter the No. 7 Rift Zone, but your name must be registered back to the Ning Family's frontline squad. Your person returns to the formation, your merits are recorded, and the subsequent mirror groups, fire charts, and front station supply quotas will all go through the Ning Family main team's channels."

"Hah!" Qiao Ye exploded on the spot, stepping forward as if wanting to rush up. "The front station hasn't even opened yet, and you're already in such a rush to come and snatch merits and keep accounts?"

Wen Zhao reached out and pulled him back, his voice low but clear: "Don't be impatient, let him finish speaking."

Ning Hangce glanced at Qiao Ye, not bothering to get angry with him, and locked his gaze back onto Ning Yanqiu, his tone deepening slightly: "I am not pulling you back. The No. 7 Rift Zone is not an academy competition, nor is it a camp defense mini-game from military training—once the front station opens, it's official quotas that die, and long-line nodes that are fought over. Whoever you bind yourself to, you must bear all the risks together with them."

At this point, he finally looked up for the first time, glancing at the silent Lu Jin beside her, his words piercing: "Lu Jin has his own path, and even more so, his own troubles. The Temple blacklist, contaminated troop lines, the Old Military Court fire steles—they all hang over him. It's not that you can't continue to hang out with him, but from today on, all the messy debts he is being targeted for, you will have to shoulder together!"

These words were not harsh to the ear, but every word stabbed the heart. The War Affairs Hall was deathly silent; no one dared to respond—what Ning Hangce spoke of was the clear account that everyone kept in their hearts.

Lu Jin finally moved, first glancing at the team formation order, which was written clearly: four main seats, one alternate; once the main seats were confirmed, they could not be changed before the qualification match; after entering the front station, task shares and node merit recording would be calculated based on the official team first.

Four names, four lives bound together.

Ning Yanqiu withdrew the hand she had pressed against the stone wall, her tone still cold, but with a bit more sharpness: "What position are you giving me?"

Ning Hangce seemed to have been waiting for this question, immediately replying: "Main control airspace. If you join the Ning Family team, you won't be an auxiliary scout, but a main mirror field position. The first batch of resources at the front station—Cold Mirror sub-charts, calibration fire paper, three main mirror archives—will all be green-lit for you. What you lack is not the courage to fight, but a formed team that can push you half a step further toward Apprentice Perfection!"

Ning Yanqiu's eyes remained motionless, but Qiao Ye couldn't help but curse under his breath: "Sounds better than it sings!"

This time, Wen Zhao didn't stop him, but instead nodded in agreement: "It does sound like a good deal. Team formation isn't about loyalty; whoever has a stable path and generous shares has the qualification to poach people—but whether it's stable or not depends on whether it's the position you actually want."

Ning Hangce looked at Wen Zhao, his tone carrying a hint of scrutiny: "What about you all? Binding yourselves to Lu Jin, what are you after?"

This question directly ripped off the most realistic fig leaf, and the atmosphere in the War Affairs Hall instantly tightened to the extreme.

Qiao Ye was the first to step forward, the abrasion on his shoulder from military training still red. He stood there, filled with the impulsive energy of a youth: "I'm after the frontline! In other teams, I'd likely still be the one taking the first wave and bearing the first hit, and after the fight, the controllers and reapers would snatch the credit. But fighting with Lu Jin is different—when it's time to break through, he really lets me go up; when it's cracked open, he really lets me keep pushing. That's the reality I want!"

The more he spoke, the more excited he became, and his voice grew louder: "To put it bluntly, I just want to be that spike that stabs in first! If others think I'm too reckless, I don't mind!"

Someone on the side of the hall sneered, and Qiao Ye turned his head and glared: "What the hell are you laughing at!" The person was so scared that they immediately held their breath, not even daring to breathe loudly.

Wen Zhao walked forward slowly, twirling an unlit small fire pouch in his hand, his tone steady and powerful: "I'm after the lines. During those military training sessions, he retreated the line three times, patched the breach twice, and switched fire once—I remember it all. I know when he needs people to block, when he needs people to release, and when to leave a half-opening for those behind to slip through. Others see me as just a fire-box carrier, but following him, I'm not just lighting fires; I'm recording lines—the Ning Family's accounts are too big; I can't keep track of them, and I don't want to."

Qiao Ye let out a "pfft" of laughter, and even the few people in front of the stone wall who were keeping straight faces couldn't help but twitch their lips.

Ning Hangce, however, did not smile. His gaze fell back onto Lu Jin, his tone icy: "They two have their reasons, what about you? What can you give Ning Yanqiu?"

The hall went completely silent. The onlookers were waiting, and even Ning Yanqiu turned her head, her gaze falling directly on Lu Jin.

Lu Jin finally spoke, his voice not loud, but exceptionally firm: "I cannot provide the Ning Family's master accounts, nor can I give her a ready-made Perfection team. But if she comes to me, it's not to be just a name on a list, nor to be anyone's flank."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over Ning Hangce, his words ringing with conviction: "Once the front station opens, what I need is high-altitude calibration, first-hand reporting, and on-site field breaking—she will stand as a main vanguard, not someone hiding in the back watching the fun. Also, the path I hold is not a stable one; it's a path that charges forward. Binding with me won't be easy, but she will be able to stand in the position she wants to stand in!"

These words didn't mention a single word about the old lines of the Rift Zone or the Grey Stele Post, but those who understood heard it clearly—that was the frontline position Ning Yanqiu had been longing for, the position the Ning Family had never been willing to give her.

Ning Hangce was silent for two breaths, then suddenly looked at Ning Yanqiu, his tone softening slightly, yet still heavy: "What do you think yourself?"

This time, he didn't make the decision for her, didn't calculate the accounts for her, and handed the choice completely into her hands.

Ning Yanqiu looked at him, the sharpness that had been suppressed in her eyes for so long finally erupting completely, her tone crisp and decisive: "I know everything you said is true—returning to the Ning Family team, resources are stable, merit accounts look good, and there are people behind me to cover for me. But the position you give me is a control position; what I want is a vanguard position!"

Ning Hangce frowned for the first time: "The foundation of the Cold Mirror lineage should not be used to take the risks at the very front."

"You always say that!" Ning Yanqiu retorted extremely quickly, her voice not loud, but carrying an unyielding spirit, "That's why that line of the old front markers looks more like waste paper archives every year!"

As soon as these words were out, the expressions of the several Ning Family disciples nearby changed instantly—this was no longer a dispute about team formation; it was clearly defying the Ning Family's old rules in front of everyone!

Ning Hangce looked at her for a long time, his eyes sinking little by little: "You know what you are saying."

"I know," Ning Yanqiu said firmly, "so I am not going back."

As her voice fell, she directly raised her hand, looking at the official declaration registry with the black background and fire patterns below the stone wall—as long as four main seats were signed, the academy would arrange an opponent for the qualification match.

Without a shred of hesitation, she picked up the pen and wrote her name in the blank space. When the first stroke fell, there were still people around who hadn't reacted; by the time the three words "Ning Yanqiu" were finished, the fire patterns on the black registry "buzzed" and lit up half a circle, so hot it dazzled the eyes.

She didn't put the pen back, instead turning and handing it directly to Lu Jin, her eyes shining astonishingly: "I've signed for the frontline position, what about you?"

Qiao Ye was stunned for half a beat, then his eyes went round, and he was so excited he almost jumped up. Lu Jin took the pen, said nothing, and wrote stroke by stroke next to her name, his handwriting strong and forceful.

"Count me in!" Qiao Ye squeezed up, using too much force when picking up the pen, almost snapping the tip, and after writing, he didn't forget to shout, "Front-pressure breach position, don't write it wrong for me!"

Wen Zhao walked over slowly, his pen tip falling, steadier than anyone: "Support, closing the breach, recording lines—whoever runs around randomly in the back, I'll be the first to record it in the ledger."

Four names fell together, and the fire patterns on the black registry instantly connected into a straight line, lighting up from the top of the page to the bottom. The humming sound resonated through the War Affairs Hall, and the originally noisy voices were forcibly suppressed.

Ning Hangce stared at those four names, silent for a moment, before looking at Ning Yanqiu. His tone was harder than before, yet carried a hint of helplessness: "Since you've chosen, walk this path to the end. In the future, if you encounter the Ning Family's safety net positions, don't complain that it's too stable on one hand, while expecting it to clean up your mess on the other."

"I have never thought that way." Ning Yanqiu looked up, her tone neither humble nor arrogant.

Ning Hangce nodded, surprisingly not trying to persuade her further. Before leaving, he took a deep look at Lu Jin and left a warning, every word heavy: "She signed her name with you, not for you to take her on adventures to put on a show. If you really have the ability, don't let this step she took be in vain."

After saying this, he turned and left, his silver-grey robes sweeping over the stone steps, with the Ning Family disciples following closely behind. Yet, the heavy atmosphere he had pressed into the War Affairs Hall still hadn't dissipated.

Qiao Ye waited until his back completely disappeared before swallowing hard: "That guy is too good at suppressing the field; just now I almost didn't dare to flare up."

Wen Zhao tucked the small fire pouch into his sleeve and said indifferently: "Nonsense, the Ning Family's main control position of the same generation doesn't rely on a surname, but on real ability. But that line of yours just now was tough enough."

Ning Yanqiu tossed the pen back to the side of the registry, her tone still plain, but the tips of her ears quietly turned red: "I was just clarifying things."

"Well said!" Qiao Ye immediately agreed, "Vanguard positions should be fought for; why let others decide your path for you!"

"First stabilize your own breach position before talking." Wen Zhao retorted slowly.

"How did I not stabilize it? In those military training sessions, which time wasn't it me who hit the breach first?" Qiao Ye shouted unconvinced.

Seeing the two about to argue again, Lu Jin raised his hand to press it down, his tone calm: "Don't make a scene here; the names are signed, now the positions must be solidified."

As soon as he finished speaking, the back door of the War Affairs Hall was pushed open, and a black-armored academy instructor walked out, holding the newly collected registry. His gaze swept over the four, his tone icy: "Lu Jin, Ning Yanqiu, Qiao Ye, Wen Zhao, those who signed for the official front station team, come in."

The four exchanged glances and immediately followed him in.

The inner hall was much quieter than the outside, with only a long table, a battle map stone wall, and a black iron verification stele standing against the wall. The black-armored instructor spread the registry on the table; without asking for their thoughts, he pointed directly at the verification stele: "Official front station teams do not accept empty names. Standing here is not about brotherly loyalty or freshmen huddling together; what I want are four hard positions that the Military Court can use."

He looked up, his gaze sweeping over the four, his tone even colder: "Who is playing front pressure?"

Qiao Ye stepped forward, without a shred of hesitation: "Me! Breaching, bearing pressure, the first impact—it's all me!"

The black-armored instructor looked at the old injury on his shoulder, didn't ask much, and stamped a grey seal on the corner of the registry: "Recorded. Who is supporting and recording lines?"

Wen Zhao raised his hand, placing the small fire pouch from his sleeve and the Line-Marking Nail together on the table, his tone composed: "Me. I patch the leaks, I record the chaotic lines, and when retreating, if anyone runs the wrong way, I can drag them back."

The black-armored instructor took an extra look at him, the corner of his mouth twitching imperceptibly: "At least you have self-awareness."

"One must first state their own value clearly." Wen Zhao smiled, his tone plain.

Someone beside the long table chuckled, but the black-armored instructor ignored it and continued to ask: "Who is doing aerial calibration and field breaking?"

Ning Yanqiu spoke, her words crisp and decisive: "Me. Reporting codes, fixing airspace, breaking the field, positioning—I take it all."

The black-armored instructor nodded, stamped next to her name, and finally looked at Lu Jin: "What about you?"

Lu Jin stood at the very end, his answer concise and powerful: "I control the terrain, troop lines, and rhythm."

The black-armored instructor closed the registry, his tone slightly easing: "Alright, at least you don't look like a team here to join in the fun."

After speaking, he raised his hand and pressed it onto the verification stele. Four fire patterns instantly emerged on the front of the black stele, corresponding to the four people's names and positions from top to bottom—front pressure, aerial calibration, support, main core—a line drawn clearly.

From this moment on, this team was finally truly officially registered by the academy.

Qiao Ye stared at his "Front Pressure Breach Position" fire pattern, his mouth nearly stretching to his ears; Wen Zhao stared at his position, silently memorizing it; Ning Yanqiu only took a glance at the "Aerial Calibration and Field Breaking Position," and the tension in her eyes finally relaxed slowly.

She had truly signed herself in—not just standing there casually, but from today on, officially bound into this frontline path that belonged to her.

The black-armored instructor handed the registry back to them, his tone suddenly turning cold again, a bucket of cold water dousing the four's joy: "Don't be happy too soon; official teams don't get to enter the front station just by signing. You still have to fight a qualification match."

Qiao Ye's mouth, which had just been lifted, froze on the spot: "We have an opponent already?"

The black-armored instructor didn't answer, turning and walking to the outer wall, snatching away the black cloth covering the second stone list.

As the stone list lit up, both the inner and outer halls fell into instant deathly silence.

The new matchup list was neatly nailed to the very top: [No. 7 Rift Zone Outer Front Station Qualification Match - Round 1] [Zhuixing Academy Newly Formed Team 4: Lu Jin, Ning Yanqiu, Qiao Ye, Wen Zhao] [Versus: Zhuixing Academy Old Training Team 3]

On the right side of the list, a line of grey text was particularly eye-piercing: Three at the peak of the late Apprentice stage, one on the verge of Apprentice Perfection.

Qiao Ye stared at that line of text, his Adam's apple rolling hard, his face instantly turning pale. Wen Zhao also lost his smile, his eyes sinking little by little, his tone heavy: "This isn't a warm-up; it's meant to eliminate us directly."

The black-armored instructor stood in front of the list, his voice as cold as iron, every word striking the four's hearts: "Of course not. The door to the front station only ever opens for those who can fight their way in—if you want the qualification, win with your real ability!"