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

On the fourth day at dusk, a person was hanging from the thick wooden pole of the Eighth Battalion that used to hang the military flag.

The rough hemp rope dug into his flesh, and Zhao He was pulled off the ground.

The heavy black iron heart-protecting mirror had long been stripped off by the skinny monkey, leaving only a dirty undergarment.

With his hands tied behind his back, he looked extremely comical.

Below were hundreds of bloodshot eyes.

The group of soldiers, who had just mutinied and were still carrying blood-dripping weapons, formed a huge iron barrel.

They stared at the centurion, who was usually aloof and could decide their life or death with a single word.

At this moment, it hangs there like a fat pig waiting to be slaughtered.

It made me feel better.

But while I felt relieved, my calves were shaking.

This is a hundred households!

According to the military law of the Great Yan Dynasty, rebellion and binding one's superiors are capital offenses punishable by the extermination of nine generations of one's family.

Lu Jing sat on a grand chair that had been moved in, the blood seeping from the old wound on his side forming scabs on his armor.

He slowly and methodically polished the steel saber.

"Lu Jing! You traitor who deserves to be torn to pieces!"

Zhao He's forehead was flushed with blood, his face turned as red as a ripe purple eggplant, and he started cursing.

"You dare to tie me up? Gu Changfeng, Gu's advisor, is right here in the central command tent! Five thousand elite soldiers could raze your Eighth Battalion to the ground in half an hour! Release me now, and this centurion might spare your life!"

Zhao He brought up the phrase "five thousand elite soldiers," which seemed like a mountain.

The pressure was so great that the surrounding soldiers could hardly breathe.

Lu Jing stopped wiping the knife and glanced at the pale face.

Although these greenhorn recruits were driven mad by hunger and pulled off a heist with him, their servile nature remained deep within them.

As long as Zhao He is alive, his official authority will remain intact, and this group could turn against him at any time.

To kill someone, you must first destroy their spirit.

Lu Jing thrust his saber into the ground, the tip sinking into the frozen soil.

"Skinny monkey, what are you shaking for? Is your Parkinson's acting up?"

The skinny monkey pointed upwards, his voice trembling with tears.

"Sergeant... he's talking about five thousand elite soldiers. We only have a few hundred starving men. If we're surrounded, we won't even be able to leave a complete corpse."

Lu Jing stood up and kicked a pile of damp elm firewood next to him.

"High-end ingredients often require only the simplest cooking methods."

He pointed directly below Zhao He.

"Ignite it; that's called physical salvation."

Skinny Monkey closed his eyes, steeled his resolve, and threw the torch directly into the pile of damp firewood.

When elm wood that hasn't fully dried comes into contact with an open flame, thick yellow smoke billows up with a "whoosh".

"Cough cough cough!"

One second Zhao He was shouting wildly, the next he was choked by the thick smoke and his eyes rolled back.

The pungent wood smoke shot straight into my trachea, and tears and snot instantly covered my face.

He writhed wildly in mid-air like a mudfish out of water, the rope creaking under the strain.

"Lu...cough cough...you beast...cough cough cough...waaaah..."

He couldn't even utter a complete sentence of cursing.

Lu Jing clapped his hands in satisfaction.

He turned around and pulled out a large megaphone made of rolled-up rusty tin from his pocket, then slowly took out a booklet covered in charcoal scribbles from his pocket.

That sheet metal was taken from an abandoned supply truck last night. It was rolled up, tied with hemp rope, and looked shabby, but it made quite a commotion.

This booklet was actually scrap paper that Shen Qingqiu used for bookkeeping; apart from a few circles and drawings, it didn't even have a complete sentence.

Lu Jing brought the tin megaphone to his lips and took a deep breath.

"Brothers! Listen up!"

The Great Yan Mandarin was amplified through tin loudspeakers, resounding throughout the Eighth Battalion's drill ground.

"That old dog Zhao keeps calling us traitors and using military law to suppress us. Today, I'll show you what heinous things this parasite of the Northern Xuan Army has done!"

Lu Jing solemnly opened the tattered booklet and cleared his throat.

"Here's Zhao Baihu's embezzlement ledger! This is a top-secret file I found in his crotch last night!"

Shen Qingqiu, standing at the back of the crowd not far away, covered her mouth and chuckled when she heard the words "found in his crotch".

This person lies without even making a draft. What household would hide their account book in their crotch?

Ji Ruxue stood in the shadows of the tent, her gaze pausing almost imperceptibly.

The surrounding soldiers had no idea about this.

They were so hungry they believed everything Lu Jing said.

"The third day of the third lunar month!"

Lu Jing raised his voice and read with intonation.

"Zhao He withheld half a month's worth of rations from the brothers of the Eighth Battalion, exchanged it for fifty taels of silver, and went to the Chunfeng Tower at Yanmen Pass to hire a top courtesan!"

The entire audience erupted in uproar.

Lu Jing gave Zhao He no chance to catch his breath and continued to attack.

"I heard that to show off his virility, this old dog even ate two tiger penis pills, a tribute from beyond the Great Wall!"

The soldiers' eyes lit up immediately.

Lu Jing drawled out his words.

"And what happened? He handed over his grain tax in less than half an incense stick's time, and that top courtesan laughed at him for a whole two weeks! How shameful! He completely disgraced the Great Yan border army!"

The uproarious laughter was like a cesspool exploding, overturning the entire Eighth Battalion with a deafening roar.

Some people laughed so hard they bent over, some slapped their thighs and stomped their feet, and some even clutched their stomachs, their eyes reddening as they laughed.

The laughter carried a long-suppressed anger, as well as the thrill of a taboo being broken.

The high and mighty centurion was actually just a spineless weakling.

Zhao He, who was suspended in mid-air, was blinded by the thick smoke and was so angry when he suddenly heard this fabricated and ridiculous rumor that he almost spat out blood.

"You...cough cough...fart...cough..."

He wanted to argue, but as soon as he opened his mouth, a large mouthful of yellow smoke went straight into his lungs, choking him and causing him to let out a pig-like scream.

Tears and snot mixed with cigarette ash dripped down his face; where was the majesty of a centurion?

Lu Jing didn't stop; he turned another page of the booklet in his hand.

"It's not over yet! April 4th!"

"Zhao He colluded with the quartermaster to resell our Eighth Battalion's rations and weapons, exchanging them for a whole chest of gold! Why do your swords chip after just a couple of cuts? Why can't your leather armor even stop the wooden arrows of the northern barbarians?"

Lu Jingmeng pointed at Zhao He in mid-air.

"All the money went into his pocket! He traded your lives for gold, while he hid in the rear camp, living a life of luxury, and now he wants to use five thousand elite troops to intimidate us! Do you agree or not?!"

"No way!"

The blind veteran was the first to raise his broken machete and roar out in anger.

"Chop that old dog up!"

"Chop him up!"

"Chop that son of a bitch!"

The emotions of hundreds of people ignited like dry tinder thrown into a spark.

The waves of public outrage grew louder and louder.

Some people huddled at the back of the crowd, their lips trembling, too afraid to shout.

But many more people had already raised their knives.

That's how people are; once they break free from the shackles in their hearts...

Once you drag the lofty idol into the mud and stomp on it, you can never go back to the days of kneeling before it.

Zhao He coughed violently in the thick smoke, his whole body covered in soot, looking like a piece of charcoal.

He struggled desperately, trying to tell these worthless people that what Lu Jing was holding wasn't an account book at all, it was all made up!

He didn't even have half a stick of incense!

He didn't buy the top courtesan at the brothel!

But he couldn't say a word.

Every time he opened his mouth, it produced endless thick smoke and violent coughing. To outsiders, this appeared as silence, as if he were acquiescing.

The backlash from public opinion is sharper than swords.

Ji Ruxue stood in the shadows of the tent, coldly watching this scene.

The bright red palace dress she was wearing fluttered in the cold wind.

"This traitor..."

She grew up in the palace and was used to the impeachments in the court that were full of quotations and sleight of hand.

Lu Jing's thuggish, street-smart style of splashing dirty water, dragging his opponent into the filth and excrement of his lower body, was something she had never heard of before.

Just then, a rapid sound of horses' hooves suddenly came from the direction of the camp gate.

A sentry scrambled into the drill ground.

"Sergeant Lu! There's movement at the central command tent; Gu Changfeng has sent men!"