Rise from a Low-class Family to Martial Artist

Vast ice plains.

Snowflakes drift down.

Boom, boom, boom!

The drumbeat sounded like thunder, prompting all the soldiers in the tents to step out and begin assembling.

...

...

Zhao Dayi stood in the back row of the formation, listening to the sound of the Marquis spreading throughout the area, his memories somewhat blurred.

He thought of the Old Marquis, recalling many years ago...

”Uncle Chen, Aunt Six...”

He was a resident of the Northern Border of Liang, fifteen years ago, the Northern Border Demon Race invaded again; the village where he lived encountered the demon race; many people in the village were slaughtered by them, with most of the children taken away.

If it weren’t for... if it weren’t for the timely arrival of the Northern Garrison Army, he wouldn’t have survived either.

Uncle Chen and Aunt Six, who took care of him, fought against the demon race to protect him, and died at their hands.

Uncle Chen and Aunt Six were martial artists and had retired from the Northern Garrison Army.

And his parents had also died five years ago, killed by the demon race.

That day, he saw the Northern Garrison Army and met the Old Marquis.

The Old Marquis held his hand and the hands of several village children, bowing to the deceased villagers, and he was brought back to the Northern Garrison Army by the Old Marquis.

Later, he learned martial arts in the army, practiced Refining the Viscera, Opening the Acupoints... up to now being Eighth Grade.

Over these years, he had slayed many demon races invading the borders and witnessed many villages attacked by them.

The demon race was cunning and moved swiftly, with the long border of the Northern Border making it hard to guard entirely even with constant patrols from the Northern Garrison Army.

Moreover, between the Northern Border and the Liang’s boundary lay some territories of the Han Kingdom, with many demon races coming through there; after each raid, the Han Kingdom’s response was simply a ”sorry,” and they brushed it off.

In some villages, after repeated demon race invasions, only a few elders remained.

He wished to bring these elders back to safer areas, but they refused to leave, saying they had grown accustomed to living there and didn’t want to leave their homeland in their old age.

Zhao Dayi knew in his heart that these elders’ reluctance to leave was not just about homeland but because their relatives were buried there.

Additionally, this was the territory of Liang; if they left, the land might be claimed by the Han Kingdom.

Retreat an inch, lose a yard.

They couldn’t leave!

To this day, he remembers one elder’s words.

”I’m old, can’t walk anymore, and don’t want to leave; our presence proves this is Liang’s territory. As a child... I heard my grandfather say that when he was young, he heard from his great-grandfather that when the Grand Ancestor Emperor established Liang, the Han people occupied our land, calling it theirs, but what happened after... later, they found the graves of Liang’s people, traces of life from our people. My grandfather said, at that time the Grand Ancestor Emperor stated, the graves of Liang’s people were proof of our territory, and if the Han Kingdom did not return it, then war!”

”Child, don’t worry about me; if I die, just bury me under that mountain. When Liang eventually destroys the demon race once and for all, if you’re still alive, if you still remember this old man, come to my grave and tell me.”

”Go, go kill more demons.”

...

”Dayi, what are you thinking about?”

The voice of the companion beside him woke Zhao Dayi from his memories.

”The Marquis just announced that this time we will completely eradicate the Northern Border Demon Race, restoring permanent peace to our Liang’s Northern Border, and if the Han Kingdom dares to interfere, we will directly go to war with them.”

”Did the Marquis really say that?”

Zhao Dayi was shocked; in more than ten years in the army, he understood well why the Northern Border Demon Race couldn’t be eradicated—it was because the Han Kingdom was causing trouble.

”How could that not be true, the Marquis also conveyed another uplifting news: in the current Martial Arts Academy ranking tournament, our Liang’s Canglan Martial Arts Academy’s prodigy Lin Chen outshone the four academies of the Han Kingdom, driving their academy into a breakdown and forcing a withdrawal.”

”Who is Lin Chen?”

Zhao Dayi was somewhat puzzled, having lived on the front lines in the Northern Border fighting the demon race, he rarely had time to follow domestic affairs.

”You ask me, I don’t know either; but as long as it’s a prodigy from Liang, that’s enough.”

His companion laughed heartily, and Zhao Dayi nodded heavily; yes, it didn’t matter who Lin Chen was, as long as he was a prodigy from Liang.

”Those bastards from the Han Kingdom couldn’t win against Lin Chen in direct confrontation, they even tried to overwhelm the young prodigy of Liang; fortunately, Pei Qingming arrived in time and slaughtered those bastards.”

”Pei Qingming appeared?”

”Yes, the Marquis said Pei Qingming has already broken through to the Upper Grade, taking out Second Grade demons with a single sword as if chopping vegetables.”

Zhao Dayi knew about Pei Qingming; this figure had been famous in Liang for over a decade, even though he was far in the Northern Border, he had heard about it from martial artists from other regions.

The greatest prodigy in Liang’s martial path over three hundred years.

”With Pei Qingming before us, and Lin Chen following, Liang’s martial path is not inferior to the Han Kingdom’s.”

His companion’s words resonated with Zhao Dayi, and at this moment, he recalled the scene of the Old Marquis’ passing a year ago, when the entire Northern Garrison Army was in turmoil, unable to accept the reality.

The Old Marquis was the soul of the Northern Garrison Army, more than the stabilizing needle of the whole Northern Border.

Later, the Little Marquis became the new Marquis and quickly stabilized the army’s morale, yet Zhao Dayi still worried whether they could defeat the Northern Border Demon Race now that the Old Marquis was gone.

Because within the camp, voices arose suggesting negotiations with the demon race to avoid the annual sacrifice of thousands of soldiers.

While the Old Marquis lived, such voices dared not rise, but it wasn’t a matter of distrust towards the Little Marquis, rather fearing his lack of prestige to suppress these voices.

Later, the young Marquis acted decisively, demonstrating a resolve no less than that of the old Marquis, and the entire Northern Garrison Army restored a single voice: Exterminate the Demon Race, ensure peace.

”These three cups of wine, the first cup is to honor the civilians who died defending the territories of our Liang.”

”This second cup of wine is to honor the loyal souls and heroes who fought and died on behalf of the Northern Garrison Army through the generations.”

The Marquis’s voice came from the front, spreading throughout the crowd, as soldiers stepped forward to pour each person a cup of wine.

”This third cup of wine... is for victory in this battle, for the eternal stability of the Northern Border, for all of you.”

Zhao Dayi held the wine bowl with a trembling hand, not out of fear, but excitement, and his companions beside him felt the same; they had waited a long time for this day.

The companions of the past were all gone now.

Maybe the moment when the Northern Border Demon Race is truly exterminated, they won’t be able to see it, but they believe the Northern Border Demon Race will definitely be vanquished.

”To us!”

All the soldiers drank their wine, waiting silently.

”Form ranks! The army sets forth, slay the Demon Race!”

”Slay the Demon Race!”

”Slay the Demon Race!”

The roar of nearly a hundred thousand martial artists and soldiers soared into the heavens, causing the snowflakes falling in mid-air to melt, leaving not a single snowflake visible in the entire army camp.

Zhao Dayi also roared, a roar he had waited fifteen years for.

Fortunately, the passion in his heart had not dried up.

Fortunately, he had waited long enough.

Flags were raised, and all the soldiers pressed forward like a steel torrent toward the north, heading for the Demon Race’s royal court.

”After this battle, may our Liang Northern Border be free of worry.”

...

...

Thud, thud, thud!

Like the shaking of an earthquake, the tremors woke the soldiers in another camp hundreds of miles away.

The commander’s tent.

The faces of several elders turned grim.

Liang has mobilized its troops, daring to launch a final attack on the Northern Border Demon Race, even with our Han Kingdom’s thirty thousand troops eyeing them cautiously from the sideline.

”Senior Brother Li, what should we do?”

The man in the center hesitated upon hearing his junior brother’s question; compared to Liang’s hundred thousand troops, they had only thirty thousand here, even adding the remnant Demon Race could not stop Liang’s army.

Yet, the decision to send only thirty thousand troops was because the Imperial Court believed it was enough to intimidate Liang. After all, engaging in war with them would mean engaging with Han, something Liang dared not do.

The outcome envisioned by the Imperial Court was for the Northern Border Demon Race to lose another batch to Liang’s slaughter, maintaining Liang’s dignity before retreating. Their presence was more to express Han’s stance.

For years, Han’s mere stance had been enough to intimidate the other eight kingdoms.

But now, Liang surprisingly disregarded their thirty thousand troops, directly launching a final assault on the Demon Race royal court.

Not ignoring them completely, as Liang must have thoroughly prepared, guarding against their intervention.

First-Grade martial artists in the camp could at most counter three thousand Lower Grade martial artists. They have only three First-Grade martial artists here, while Liang has three too. Intervening would likely mean going without returning.

”Send a message to the Imperial Court, Liang has attacked the Demon Race, asking them to dispatch troops for support.”

”Senior Brother Li, by the time the message goes back to summon reinforcements, the Demon Race royal court will be in peril.”

The elder beside him shook his head. Even if the army was mobilized immediately, the royal court would no longer exist, and then would the troops really go to war against Liang?

”What does Junior Brother Wang suggest? Should we rush to the front of Liang’s army, to block them, telling Liang that they must cross over our corpses to occupy the Demon Race’s royal court, hoping Liang will hesitate due to our status and not dare to act?”

The elder’s retort left the recent speaker silent.

The moment Liang’s army began its actions, it signified that Liang was prepared for a rift and possibly war with Han.

Contrarily, whether Han should go to war with Liang, not even the Imperial Capital has decided now.

For a thousand years, Han has believed in inciting others among the eight kingdoms to balance each other, seldom participating directly, which has kept Han as the top among the Nine Kingdoms.

Many have grown accustomed to this approach, and now facing genuine conflict with Liang, they find themselves at a loss.

”Let’s do it this way.”

The leading elder decided firmly, ”If our Han truly goes to war with Liang, the presence of one more or one less Northern Border Demon Race makes no difference. This Northern Border Demon Race is already crippled, lingering on, of little help to us. If the Imperial Court does not intend to wage war with Liang, then there’s no need for us to act.”

Wang Lingchun’s eyes showed dissatisfaction. Unlike Senior Brother Li, he believes Han and Liang will inevitably fight. In such a case, preserving the Northern Border Demon Race adds strength, whereas Senior Brother Li follows old traditions, avoiding direct confrontation, supporting other kingdoms against Liang where possible.

After discussions, Wang Lingchun and another elder left the tent.

”Junior Brother Wang, do not worry. To deal with Liang, there’s no need for us to act directly. We can incite Zheng Kingdom and Xiang Kingdom, and unite with other kingdoms at least. At least Han martial artists won’t die, and all we need to expend is some Martial Path resources.”

The other elder patted Wang Lingchun’s shoulder, wearing a smile.

”Senior Brother Duan, I’m just afraid it won’t be that simple this time.”

”Haha, Junior Brother Wang, you worry too much.”