Rebirth in the Dragon Kingdom: The Strongest Blade

Lin Zhe lived a very regular life in the days that followed.

Every morning at six o'clock, he would appear on the training ground on time and spend twenty minutes personally demonstrating the day's training subjects—obstacle course, combat, shooting, rock climbing, demolition... He would achieve a result in each one that would leave everyone speechless, and then post that result on the bulletin board of the training ground.

At the very top of the notice board, written in large red letters, is the message: "Today's Goal".

The following is a breakdown of the records:

Obstacle course (35kg load): Lin Zhe, 18 minutes 37 seconds

Precision shooting (300 meters): Lin Zhe, 10 shots, 100 rings

Combat Practice: Lin Zhe, 1 vs 8, Complete Victory

Rock climbing (25 meters vertical): Lin Zhe, 1 minute 12 seconds

Demolition device assembly/disassembly: Lin Zhe, 42 seconds

Each number felt like a mountain, weighing heavily on the hearts of those one hundred trainees.

After demonstrating, Lin Zhe stepped aside, pulled up a chair, and sat down, holding the training record board in his hand. Gao Cheng and the core members of Canglang were responsible for the specific implementation. No one could escape Lin Zhe's eyes, whether their movements were not standardized, their speed was not up to standard, or they were slacking off.

"Number 27! Your climbing technique is off! Let's try again!"

"Number 53! Why are your hands shaking during bomb disposal? A tremor like that on the battlefield would have caused an explosion!"

"Number 81! Your fighting is so weak, haven't you eaten?"

His voice wasn't loud, but it was cold and sharp, piercing the hearts of every trainee like a knife. No one dared to refute him, no one dared to complain, because they had witnessed firsthand how effortlessly Lin Zhe handled these projects.

What's even more provocative is that after Lin Zhe finishes his demonstration, he often adds, "This is my level from five years ago."

Five years ago... wasn't that their age now?

These words were like a whip, lashing at everyone's heart.

Gao Cheng and Cang Lang's team members also joined the training. At first, they still had some of the airs of instructors, but they were quickly defeated by Lin Zhe's performance—these veteran special forces soldiers were actually inferior to these student soldiers who had only been training for a month in many aspects!

"Captain, this..." Old Wei came down from the obstacle course, panting. He looked at Lin Zhe's time of 18 minutes and 37 seconds on the bulletin board, then at his own time of 22 minutes and 41 seconds, and gave a bitter smile. "Have we wasted all these years of military service?"

Gao Cheng wiped his sweat, his eyes filled with complex emotions: "It's not that we've been wasting our time, it's just that Colonel Lin... is too monstrous. But have you noticed how fast these trainees are improving? It's frighteningly fast."

Indeed. When they first started training, many couldn't even finish the simplest 5km cross-country run. Now, some can complete a 20km obstacle course in under two hours. Rock climbing has gone from ten minutes to three minutes, and shooting has gone from missing the target to consistently scoring above eight rings…

This rate of progress would take at least six months in a conventional army, but they achieved it in just one month.

In addition to training, Lin Zhe, through Zhang Dajiang, transferred the best instructors from various technical departments of the Jinghua Military Region.

The theory classes are from 7 p.m. to 10 p.m. The newly built classroom next to the training field is brightly lit.

In the first week, a major instructor from the military region's electronic warfare regiment taught "Battlefield Electromagnetic Environment and Countermeasures." He didn't just read from the textbook; instead, he used real-world examples—including how the "Hidden Dragon" squad interfered with enemy communications, spoofed signals, and cracked encrypted channels during the war on the southwestern border.

"Gentlemen, in modern warfare, electromagnetic dominance is the key to victory." The instructor pointed to a battle example on the screen and analyzed, "The enemies you will face in the future may very well possess more advanced electronic equipment than we do. What should we do? Not by brute force, but by using our intelligence."

In the second week, an engineer from the military region's information center gave a lecture on "Network Attack and Defense and Information Security." He demonstrated how to use an ordinary laptop to hack into a simulated military network, how to gain access, how to implant viruses, and how to leave without leaving a trace.

"Remember, cyber warfare is bloodless, but just as deadly." The engineer typed on his keyboard. "A skilled hacker is worth the destructive power of an entire division."

In the third week, a specially appointed professor from the military region's foreign language academy taught "Battlefield Foreign Languages ​​and Interrogation Techniques." It wasn't just about simple conversations, but about how to use language skills to extract intelligence and how to judge the truth from the other party's word choice, tone of voice, and micro-expressions.

"You might think that being a soldier just requires knowing how to fire a gun," the professor pushed up his glasses. "You're wrong. On the battlefields of the future, a single correct word might be more useful than a bullet."

These courses were completely different from what they taught in school. There was no empty theory, only practical applications. The students listened with great enthusiasm, filling notebook after notebook with notes.

They trained until they were exhausted during the day and then had to attend three hours of classes every night, but not one of them complained. On the contrary, they became more and more excited—because with each new skill they learned, they felt they were getting a little closer to the level that Lin Zhe had demonstrated.

They began to understand why Lin Zhe said, "Modern warfare needs highly educated soldiers." Because this knowledge could truly save lives on the battlefield and could truly change the course of a war.

Lin Zhe's own life, on the contrary, became more leisurely.

Every morning he demonstrates and supervises training, and in the afternoon he plans the next steps in his office or coordinates resources with various departments in the military region. Unless there are special arrangements, he goes home on time in the evening.

This prompted Zhang Dajiang to jokingly remark, "You're living a better life than me these days."

Lin Zhe simply smiled. He knew that this "enrichment" was built upon the hard work of Gao Cheng and the others. But that was the effect he wanted—to leave the specific training to the professionals, while he only focused on the direction and standards.

He would go home on weekends. The Lin family villa had now become Zhang Dajiang's second home. The commander came almost every week, ostensibly to "see his daughter," but in reality, he just wanted to chat with Lin Zhe and get a free meal.

"Dad, you're here to freeload again." Zhang Xueying opened the door with a smile and took the wine from Zhang Dajiang's hand.

"What do you mean by 'mooching a meal'?" Zhang Dajiang glared. "I came to see my son-in-law! Where's Lin Zhe?"

"He's in the study, playing chess with his dad."

In the study, Lin Zhe and Lin Guodong were playing chess. Lin Guodong was a master, but Lin Zhe's style was fierce and often unpredictable, and the two were locked in a close battle.

"Checkmate." Lin Zhe placed his piece.

Lin Guodong stared at the chessboard for a long time, then shook his head and conceded defeat: "You kid, you treat playing chess like a battle, it's all about killing moves."

"Dad, you flatter me." Lin Zhe smiled.

Zhang Dajiang walked in, glanced at the chessboard, and grinned: "Old Lin, lost to your son again? That's normal. That kid has killed more people on the battlefield than you've ever seen."

Lin Guodong glared at him, but didn't refute him. He knew Zhang Dajiang was telling the truth.

At dinner, the whole family sat around the table. Su Wan kept putting food on Lin Zhe's plate, saying, "Eat more, you've lost weight."

"Mom, I haven't lost any weight, I've actually gained two kilograms." Lin Zhe said, both amused and exasperated.

"You still have to eat! Training is so tiring, you need to replenish your energy!"

Zhang Xueying smiled to herself. She loved her life now—her husband came home every day, the family was together, peaceful and stable. Although she knew this peace wouldn't last forever, she cherished it for now.

After dinner, Zhang Dajiang pulled Lin Zhe to the balcony for a smoke.

"How's your batch of trainees doing?" Zhang Dajiang exhaled a puff of smoke. "I heard they're progressing incredibly fast?"

"Not bad." Lin Zhe nodded. "After a month, he's basically reached the level of an average veteran. But he's still far from meeting my requirements."

"Your requirements..." Zhang Dajiang smiled wryly, "There are probably no more than ten people in the entire military region who can meet your requirements."

"So it will take time." Lin Zhe looked at the night sky. "A year should be enough."

"I know." Zhang Dajiang patted him on the shoulder. "Go ahead and do it. If you need any support, just ask. The military region will fully cooperate."

The training has entered its second month.

Those one hundred trainees have undergone a complete transformation.

His skin was tanned to a bronze color, his hands were calloused, and his eyes had transformed from a student's gaze to the sharpness of a soldier. More importantly, it was his aura—standing there, he was like an unsheathed sword, restrained yet dangerous.

They themselves can hardly believe that they have been able to persevere until now.

The training volume is three times that of regular troops, with less than six hours of sleep a day; their lives consist of nothing but training and studying. But strangely, no one collapses; instead, they become more energetic with each training session.

This is thanks to the logistical support system designed by Lin Zhe.

The food is the best in the entire army—not lavish meals, but scientifically balanced nutrition, with protein, carbohydrates, and vitamins precisely measured down to the gram. After training each day, there are professional physical therapists for massage and relaxation, military doctors to check physical condition, and psychologists to help relieve stress.

The medical room is fully equipped, like a small hospital. Injuries sustained during training can receive the best treatment immediately.

"Our treatment... is even better than that of pilots, right?" During a training break, Zhao Ming leaned against the wall, panting, and said to Li Wei next to him.

Li Wei took a swig of water: "Nonsense. Don't you even know what kind of training we're doing? Yesterday's demolition drill—if it weren't for the proper protective gear, we'd both be in the hospital right now."

"It was worth it." Zhao Ming looked at the trainees rock climbing on the training field. "Although it's tiring, look at us now—a month ago, could I have imagined that I could climb a 25-meter-high wall with my bare hands?"

"Unexpected," Li Wei laughed, "but even more unexpected is that we actually want to climb even faster."

The two looked at each other and smiled.

This sense of accomplishment is irreplaceable.

They began to understand the numbers Lin Zhe posted on the bulletin board—they weren't showing off, they were goals. Goals that could be caught up with, goals that could be surpassed.

After the evening theory classes, many students didn't return to their dormitories but instead voluntarily practiced extra. The training grounds were brightly lit until late at night.

Gao Cheng and Cang Lang's teammates also joined the extra training. They found that they were improving as they trained with these young people.

"Captain, I beat number 81 in the fight yesterday," Old Wei said with some pride. Number 81 was a martial arts specialist at the National Defense University and had a very good foundation in combat.

"Getting cocky after just one win?" Gao Cheng glanced at him. "Look at Colonel Lin's fighting record—1 against 8, a complete victory. We're still a long way off."

Old Wei fell silent. Indeed, it was far from perfect.

But they were not discouraged. Because they saw hope—as long as they followed Lin Zhe's training plan and persevered, they could become stronger.

This hope is more inspiring than any reward.

Lin Zhe's training plan was a synthesis of his previous life's military documents, his personal experiences in this life, and the training syllabus he had written for the Southwest Military Region.

Scientific, systematic, and efficient.

Each training subject has a clear purpose, each training intensity has a scientific basis, and each assessment has strict standards.

This isn't brute force; it's refinement.

Just like forging a good knife, it requires the right heat, the strength of countless hammer blows, and the patience of meticulous polishing.

Lin Zhe was that swordsmith.

He watched the figures sweating profusely on the training field, watching them grow stronger day by day, getting closer and closer to the goal he had set for them.

There was no pride in my heart, only peace.

Because he knew that the day this sword was forged would be the day the Dragon Kingdom would have another sharp blade.

This sharp blade will change the landscape of future warfare.