Meeting, Arriving at the Border

Han Wang followed closely behind, swallowing the pill and swearing the oath.

Yang Guanfeng, having once led the Yang clan, was deeply familiar with such procedures.

He and Han Wang had fought through life and death for the dynasty on the front lines for a decade, accumulating dozens of military merits. Their loyalty to the Zhuhu Wangchao was beyond question.

Yet those in power always needed to see it with their own eyes to find peace of mind. Thus, the two gave them the display they required.

Once the oaths were concluded, the two officials showed satisfied expressions.

Guo Jimin then clearly explained the purpose of their recall.

They were to serve as guards for a royal princess who was coming to the border for a tempering trial.

The Zhuhu Wangchao had established its nation through warfare, and the imperial family itself highly revered martial arts.

Since the founding of the dynasty, the National Teacher had established a strict rule.

Any royal descendant wishing to participate in state affairs had to first travel to the front lines and endure the fires of war.

Yang Guanfeng had indeed heard of this custom during his ten years at the border.

Previously, however, these imperial youths had always been sent to the northern border for their trials.

The northern edge of Zhuhu bordered the Tianyou Wangchao, where small-scale skirmishes and conflicts occurred year-round. Yet in terms of scale and sheer ferocity, it could not compare to the current eastern front.

The old men of the royal clan were no fools. It was merely a trial; they had no intention of sending their own flesh and blood to certain death. Consequently, they had always dispatched their descendants to the safer north rather than the east.

Upon learning the nature of the assignment, Yang Guanfeng began to ponder the implications.

For the past decade, Zhuhu's stance on the eastern border had been primarily defensive, only deploying elite units for restricted offensives.

The dynasty's sudden decision to send a princess to the eastern front meant this was far more than a simple trial on the surface. The upper echelons were likely preparing to alter their entire strategy for the eastern border in the near future.

While Yang Guanfeng did not possess intelligence as comprehensive as Yang Lingqing's, his instincts were sharp enough to detect the hidden currents beneath this arrangement.

Once Guo Jimin finished detailing the responsibilities of the guard duty, Yang Guanfeng stepped forward and accepted the secret order.

"Yang Guanfeng accepts the command! I shall do everything in my power to ensure the princess's safety!"

Yang Guanfeng responded in a resounding voice.

He understood well that this was actually a highly desirable assignment.

When a royal descendant came to the border, they would inevitably carry numerous life-saving treasures, and powerful cultivators would surely be watching over them from the shadows.

Yang Guanfeng and Han Wang were merely the shields placed out in the open. Their primary purpose was to help the princess adapt to the front-line environment and create opportunities for her to claim military merit. They only needed to give their best effort.

Should a true crisis of life and death arise, someone else would naturally intervene.

Ultimately, the outcome was predetermined: the princess would secure her military merits on the front lines and return triumphantly to the imperial court.

For the remainder of the day, Yang Guanfeng and Han Wang waited within the guest chambers of the Immortal Patrol Office.

They sat in absolute silence, neither speaking nor touching the tea, leaving the several attending maids in the room entirely at a loss.

It was not until the deep middle of the night that a representative from the Immortal Patrol Office arrived, leading them down into an underground secret chamber.

There, Yang Guanfeng and Han Wang finally met the royal princess.

"Junior Yingxuan greets the two Seniors!"

The moment she saw them enter, she stood up and bowed respectfully.

"Greetings, little friend. I am Yang Guanfeng, and this is Han Wang."

Yang Guanfeng observed the princess who introduced herself as Yingxuan.

She wore the same black and red military uniform as they did, her jet-black hair bound tightly into a high bun.

She was not particularly tall, and her features could only be described as ordinary, appearing around seventeen or eighteen years of age.

Yang Guanfeng recognized that this was likely a disguise technique too profound for him to pierce.

The three took their seats. Though the secret chamber held no one else, Yang Guanfeng was well aware that many eyes were watching this room from the dark.

"Yang Guanfeng, eighth layer of Qi Gathering, cultivates the Brute Force Art."

"Han Wang, fourth layer of Qi Gathering, cultivates the Yin-Wind Leg."

Hearing their introductions, Yingxuan dispelled her minor concealment arts, straightened her posture, and spoke clearly. "Yingxuan, fifth layer of Qi Gathering, cultivates Metal-attribute offensive arts."

As it involved royal secrets, she did not disclose the specific name of her technique, stating only its nature. However, that was sufficient.

Yang Guanfeng nodded, his gaze shifting back to Yingxuan's tightly bound hair.

"Senior Guanfeng, is something amiss?"

"Binding it like that is a liability. You would be better off cutting it away entirely."

"Very well!"

"Swish!"

Without hesitation, Yingxuan drew her hairpin and conjured a blade of golden spiritual light, cleanly severing her long hair.

"Senior Guanfeng, are there any other matters I should be mindful of?"

"None for now. We can speak further on the road. When do you intend to depart?"

"Immediately!"

"Good. Let us go."

None of the three favored wasted words. Since everything was settled, they moved out under the cover of night, returning toward the front lines.

Shortly after they left the city gates, two figures manifested in the sky above Wanghai City.

"The situation on the eastern front is vastly more intricate than in the north, and now the Sects are entangling themselves within it. We must exercise extreme caution,"

remarked Du Yuan, the City Lord of Wanghai City, who was clad in a blue robe.

He was a powerful cultivator at the mid-stage of the Spirit Communion realm. The dynasty's decision to station him at this border city was testament enough to the depth of his strength.

Standing beside him was a gray-robed cultivator who had recently broken through to the late-stage of the Condensed Origin realm.

He nodded respectfully at the words. "Please rest assured, City Lord. I have made thorough arrangements. There will be no errors."

"Go, then."

"Understood."

The gray-robed cultivator transformed into a wisp of drifting smoke and sped away.

Once he had departed, Du Yuan's brow furrowed slightly.

"Even if her mother is a consort who has lost favor, it is a bit much to send such an ordinary character to watch over her, is it not?"

Evidently, Du Yuan held a low opinion of the cultivator assigned to protect her from the shadows.

As the example of Li Yuande had proven, even within the Condensed Origin realm, there were vast disparities in strength.

The apex tier of Condensed Origin cultivators within the dynasty consisted of figures like Xuan Zhou and Mo Xian. They either held secondary commands in vital court ministries, served as the pillar foundations of great Sects, or led prominent aristocratic clans.

Below them were the likes of Hong Yao and Wen Zishu, who formed the current backbone of the dynasty, comprising the second tier.

The third tier consisted of individuals like Song Kaiyang-possessing some value for cultivation, but lacking deep potential, unsuitable for critical roles, and limited to governing minor border cities.

As for the cultivator assigned to this hidden guard duty, his strength placed him at best within the fourth tier-the most common sort of Condensed Origin.

"No matter the circumstances, this princess still carries the bloodline of His Majesty. Sending either Hong Yao or Zishu would have inspired far more confidence."

Du Yuan shook his head, dismissing the thought. "Forget it. I came to Wanghai precisely to escape the messy entanglements of the imperial palace. As I stated before, her survival has nothing to do with me. There is no need to trouble myself with idle worries."

With a slight shimmer of his form, he vanished into the midnight sky.

Beneath the cold moonlight, Yang Guanfeng, Han Wang, and Yingxuan darted through the dense forest.

As they traveled, Yang Guanfeng continuously imparted critical front-line knowledge to Yingxuan.

The most important point, which he emphasized repeatedly, was to never underestimate the mortal soldiers.

With the war on the eastern border entering its tenth year, both sides had developed numerous methods to slaughter cultivators. Nearly thirty percent of the cultivators who perished at the border fell at the hands of ordinary mortal troops.

Yingxuan listened with absolute focus, etching every warning into her memory.

Half a month later, the three arrived at the military garrison designated in the secret order.

Since Yingxuan was completely green to the front lines, it was impossible to bring her straight to the Black Tiger Battalion. They were instead posted to a southern garrison, where the frequency of combat was relatively low.

Their covers had been seamlessly prepared. Along with two other newly arrived soldier-cultivators, they were formed into a five-man squad, with Yang Guanfeng serving as the Squad Leader.

Compared to mortal conscripts, cultivators on the front lines enjoyed decent privileges, receiving individual tents to rest and recuperate.

Yang Guanfeng gathered the four subordinates within his tent, repeating the instructions he had given Yingxuan on the road before issuing his first directive:

"Today we rest and reorganize. If no battle calls, assemble at the Mao hour tomorrow to clear the battlefield."

"Yes, Squad Leader!"

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