Extreme Frontier Army: Starting from the bottom ranks, conquering the chaotic world

The fourth day, at 1-3 PM.

Eighth Battalion's drill ground.

Gu Changfeng's men shouted outside the wall for half the night, but no one paid any attention.

As dawn broke, the shouts ceased, leaving only archers pressed behind the battlements, their arrows protruding in rows.

Gu Changfeng probably felt that even if the Eighth Battalion's group of useless soldiers, who had been starving for three days, knew what they had eaten, they wouldn't be able to cause any trouble.

Once they've gone mad and become chaotic, a hail of arrows will rain down, the ledgers will be burned, the corpses buried, and everything will be cleaned up.

Lu Jing stood on the barricade stakes, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms.

He was holding the grayish-white skull in his arms.

His eye sockets were still filled with black spice residue, and a piece of skin and flesh was missing from his right temple.

The blue tattoos of the two crossed swords on his skin were swollen from being soaked in mud and oil.

The words at the bottom are still there.

The Eighth Battalion of the Northern Xuan Army.

The skinny monkey knelt in the mud, his eyes bloodshot.

The blind old soldier stood there blankly, holding a chipped machete in his hand.

That pot of meat just now was a treat from Gu Changfeng.

It was Zhao He who served it.

Lu Jing simply lifted the lid, letting the group see clearly what was in his bowl.

The drill ground was completely silent.

Shen Qingqiu stood in the shadow of the abandoned camp, staring blankly at the skull.

Ji Ruxue leaned against a wooden pillar, her bright red palace dress covered in dust, her red lips pursed.

The head guard stood behind her, his eyes fixed on the entrance to the drill ground.

"Your Highness."

Shen Qingqiu suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse.

Ji Ruxue looked at her.

Shen Qingqiu stared at the tattoo, trembling slightly.

"The Ministry of Revenue has old records of the soldiers' registers in the Xuanba Battalion. Those who have lost a leg or arm and are sent to the rear for medical care cannot have their military registers immediately cancelled; they must be signed by a medical officer and reviewed by the battalion commander."

She gritted her teeth.

"If Lao Zhang is reported dead in battle, they are receiving salaries without working and claiming military merit. If he is not reported dead and is still on the roster, then he is being killed alive."

Ji Ruxue's eyes were icy: "The higher-ups of the Northern Xuan Army actually dared to go this far."

The head guard whispered, "Your Highness, should we retreat?"

"Where to retreat to?"

The head guard couldn't answer.

Ji Ruxue gritted her teeth and spoke slowly and deliberately.

"After today, the Eighth Battalion will either live or die."

The soldiers in the drill ground were already surging towards the gate of the stockade.

"Eating human flesh...they're making us eat the flesh of our own brothers!"

"Gu Changfeng, Zhao He... those bastards whose sons are born without an anus!"

"Grab the grain!"

"Kill Zhao He!"

"Avenge Old Zhang!"

Several soldiers rushed over to the abandoned weapons rack and grabbed everything they could, including rusty spears, broken swords, and wooden stakes.

Some people carried barricades, some dismantled tent poles, and some pulled out the firewood that was burning red-hot from the bottom of the pot, sparks flying all the way.

Several supervising soldiers who were watching from a distance turned and ran.

The skinny monkey picked up a stone and swung it out.

A stone struck one of them on the back of the head, sending him tumbling into the mud, his spear flying a great distance.

The soldiers roared even louder.

Lu Jing stood on the wooden stake, his chest heaving.

The skinny monkey turned around and called to him.

"Brother Lu, shall we go?"

Lu Jing hadn't had a chance to answer yet.

boom!

The village gate was blown open.

Splinters of wood flew into the training ground, the sound of horses' hooves echoed, and heavily armored guards pushed aside the barricades and rushed in.

The front ranks of shields pressed forward, and long spears were thrust out in unison.

The crossbows in the back row are cocked.

More than a hundred people blocked the entrance to the drill ground, armored soldiers packed together, shield edges touching shield edges, a dark mass.

Zhao He rode on his horse, his bright armor pressing down on his shoulders, a sword hanging at his waist, and his face beneath his helmet was ashen.

The first thing he saw when he entered was the overturned pot, the rotten meat in the slush, and the skull in Lu Jing's arms.

Zhao He's eyes were sinister.

The blind old soldier stared at him with his single eye.

Zhao He reined in his horse and glanced at the faces of the soldiers filling the drill ground.

They were all spitting out sour saliva, their eyes were bloodshot, and they held broken knives, wooden sticks, and shattered bowls in their hands, looking like a pack of hungry ghosts.

Zhao He sneered: "The Eighth Battalion has instigated a mutiny, intending to rebel."

The guards slammed their shields into the ground.

Zhao He's voice grew louder: "By order of the commander-in-chief's camp, suppress them on the spot."

Lu Jing looked at him from afar: "Commander Zhao."

Zhao He looked up at him.

Lu Jing grinned: "Come to the feast?"

Zhao He's face trembled violently.

He raised his hand: "Crossbowmen."

The rear crossbows all rose up at once.

The skinny monkey's expression changed: "Lie down!"

It's too late.

Zhao He's hand landed: "Release the arrows!"

The crossbow strings rang out in unison.

Black arrows pierced the crowd, and screams of agony rose and fell.

The short soldier who had just been holding up the broken bowl and cursing Zhao He had two arrows stuck in his chest. The bowl was still upside down in his hand. He hadn't even had a sip of soup before he fell backward and landed at the feet of the skinny monkey.

The skinny monkey froze, blood splattering onto his face.

The short soldier opened his mouth, and the bowl rolled out of his fingers and stopped at the edge of the mud puddle.

"I...haven't eaten yet..."

Before he could finish speaking, his pupils dilated.

The shouts and curses on the drill ground ceased.

The skinny monkey knelt beside the corpse, blood streaming down his face.

He reached out to press on the two bloody holes, and as soon as his palm touched them, blood gushed out from between his fingers.

It can't be held down.

He slowly raised his head, his teeth grinding together.

Zhao He's horse took a step forward.

Zhao He drew his sword, the tip pointing at Lu Jing.

"Leave no one alive."

The guards roared in unison, pressed forward with their shield wall, and thrust their spears out from the gaps in the shields.

Several soldiers in the front row were unable to dodge in time, and bloody holes were pierced through their abdomens. Before they even fell, guns from behind stabbed them.

The blind veteran raised his knife and slashed at the gun barrel, breaking the wooden pole in half. He was knocked back three steps by the shield.

"Don't push! Spread out to the sides!"

The skinny monkey dragged the short soldier's corpse backward, tears and blood mingling on his face.

"Corporal!"

Lu Jing was still standing on the wooden stake.

Water was dripping from the skull in his hand.

The shield wall is very stable.

Zhao He did not bring ordinary soldiers; they were all his personal guards, well-fed, well-clothed, heavily armored, and armed with long spears. They formed an iron wall and pushed forward relentlessly.

The soldiers of the Eighth Battalion, who had been starving for three days, mostly carried rotten wood and rusty knives. If they really charged in, it would be like throwing an egg against a rock.

The first group rushed forward, but were quickly stabbed and killed.

Someone was clutching their stomach and crawling backward, their intestines dragging in the mud.

Some people clung to the spear and wouldn't let go, their faces covered in blood from being hit by the shield, yet they were still shouting.

"Cut off his legs!"

"Don't crash into it head-on!"

"Drill to the side!"

Zhao He watched coldly, then pressed his sword down.

"Proceed."

The shield wall advances three more steps.

In just three steps, more than a dozen people were crushed to death.

The entrance to the drill ground was blocked; those behind couldn't squeeze in, and those in front couldn't retreat.

When people are in disarray, it's easier to kill them with shields and spears.

The head guard's face turned pale.

"Your Highness, they can't hold out."

Ji Ruxue stared at Lu Jing.

Shen Qingqiu followed her gaze.

Lu Jing simply lowered his eyes, looking at Zhao He's shield wall, the empty muddy ground on both sides of the shield wall, and the open space outside the village gate where firewood was piled up.

Then, he gently placed the skull he was holding onto the wooden stake.

He drew a steel saber from his waist.

The blade was drawn from its sheath, its gleam sharp and cold.

Zhao He narrowed his eyes: "Lu Jing, what else do you have to say?"

Lu Jing shook the mud off his knife and looked up at him: "Commander Zhao, you've come at the right time."

Zhao He's eyelids twitched violently.

Shen Qingqiu's heart tightened suddenly.

Lu Jing laughed and pointed his saber forward.

"The brothers are worried about not having any food to eat with their drinks, but your fat body is enough to make a big pot of good soup."