Chapter 83: Every Inch of Land, Every Drop of Blood

Being a chatterbox isn’t entirely without its merits. Although Xiao Nan wasn’t fond of engaging in conversation, he still managed to glean a wealth of useful information from Zhang Shu.

The so-called “Second Rank Bear Brute” did not mean that this barbarian had cultivated his body to the stage of Second Rank Muscle Refinement. Instead, it was a classification of combat strength relative to human martial artists—meaning only a Second Rank martial artist could handle such a foe. In reality, the barbarians who appeared in the human world were, for the most part, all warriors. This Bear Brute, for example, appeared tough-skinned and heavily muscled, physically akin to a First Rank martial artist focused on skin and muscle training. In essence, it was a First Rank entity.

However, owing to its innate gifts, both its strength and defense far surpassed its apparent level, elevating its actual combat power by a whole rank—hence, it was called Second Rank. Besides the Bear Brute, there were also First Rank Fox Brutes and Third Rank Tree Brutes—other barbarians that had once appeared in Yuanjiang City.

There was little need to elaborate on the First Rank Fox Brute. Xiao Nan had fought one before, and found its strength even slightly inferior to Han Zhang’s. As for the Third Rank Tree Brute, the mere mention of it made Zhang Shu’s face pale with fright. He had once seen such a creature: its muscles and bones were not unlike those of a First Rank martial artist, but its agility and striking speed were astonishingly fast. The most troublesome aspect was that the Tree Brute, in the forest, could come and go like a ghost—its archery skills were legendary. Any martial artist below Third Rank who encountered it was doomed. There was no other outcome.

How intriguing. Xiao Nan sensed a faint familiarity, as if he’d read of such creatures in certain books.

“Is the Tree Brute’s skin black or green?”

“It’s white—almost like a human’s. Other than the pointed ears, it’s quite attractive.”

At the mention of beauty, Zhang Shu swallowed hard, a strange look on his face, as if recalling something.

“Then, are there Tiger Brutes, Lion Brutes, or Giant Beast Barbarians?”

“There probably are. I once overheard my third grandpa slip up. He said there are many formidable experts among the barbarians, all difficult to deal with… Ordinary people and low-level martial artists wouldn’t know about them. Such knowledge would only sow fear and serve no other purpose.”

Xiao Nan agreed with this. If one knew the enemy was not far superior, there would still be courage to fight and pursue. But if one realized all their enemies were insurmountable, most would not rise to the challenge; instead, their will would break, and even the urge to struggle would vanish.

As for the foreign deities from other worlds, to most people, they were nothing but symbols, never having appeared in the city. Whenever an invasion began and a portal opened, celestial phenomena would immediately shift. Then, the Empire would respond with all its might, deploying nuclear and electromagnetic weapons—when war broke out, the shockwaves would carry for miles. That was true war. Once ordinary citizens were swept up in it, there was little point in worrying; it meant utter catastrophe. Such events were rare, akin to natural disasters, and not something common folk dwelled on. They were simply regarded as a Damocles’ sword hanging overhead—a reminder that the crisis was not over, and all comrades must continue their efforts.

Hence, everyone practiced martial arts to improve physical fitness; universities spared no expense to cultivate talent. Even ordinary county-level martial arts high schools like Yuanjiang No. 1 High would annually distribute a certain quota of Qi and Blood Pills and Soul-Nourishing Incense. A vast array of resources was funneled across the nation, all provided freely by the imperial government. As long as one was outstanding, there were not only medicinal rewards but also countless martial techniques and secret methods, more than one could master—if only one had the talent to learn.

Moreover, unlike the master-disciple traditions of various martial sects, teachers in schools prized the flourishing of their students everywhere, with little inclination to keep knowledge to themselves. This, too, was an advantage.

Thinking on this, Xiao Nan understood why his classmates would go to any lengths to enter prestigious schools. It was certain that higher-level martial academies offered greater rewards, more resources, stronger teachers, and better instruction. With the same talent, students raised in different environments could end up on entirely different paths.

Of course, in any world, there was no such thing as something for nothing. To think the Empire would ask for nothing in return was naïve. Since the state invested so much in its people, when these gifted students grew up and the nation faced hardship, with a single command, who would dare not lay down their lives in return?

When the time came, every inch of the homeland would be paid for in blood, and hundreds of thousands of young men would become the army—not empty words. It was a masterful strategy, a grand design. Xiao Nan clapped his hands in admiration.

In his heart, the imperial leadership had already acted with great conscience. While these policies might not benefit every citizen, they did ensure that all those from humble backgrounds had a channel for advancement and an opportunity for transformation. No matter who, as long as they had talent and were willing to struggle, if they did not die in battle, they would eventually make their mark.

To Xiao Nan, answering the nation’s call and fighting to the death was nothing extraordinary. In moments of life and death, when the nest was overturned, no egg could remain unbroken. Even if the state did not support or train the people but simply conscripted them by force, who would dare to refuse?

However, that would only breed resentment among the populace and make governance more difficult. Perhaps some martial artists would even rebel, stirring up trouble in the rear, which would not be ideal.

As for the basic autonomy of the cities, the rise in the status of martial artists, and the government’s great leniency toward them—Xiao Nan now had his own theory. The most likely reason was that the armies capable of suppressing the empire’s cities were themselves heavily burdened with responsibilities, stationed everywhere, and could not be redeployed at will. This, too, made perfect sense.

Faced with such a severe situation, to ensure that most cities and villages in the rear remained peaceful, someone had to hold the line at the front—otherwise, it would be impossible. As long as the rear remained stable, with new generations of martial artists emerging continuously, the empire’s potential for war would only grow. Over time, its strength would steadily increase.

Compared to martial artists who could be put to real use, ordinary people were relegated to cheering from the sidelines. Whether in terms of resource allocation or daily living standards, there was a clear distinction between martial artists and the rest.

All these thoughts passed through Xiao Nan’s mind with precise clarity. He discovered that as his body became more refined, his mental faculties grew more active as well. With a single piece of information, his mind could deduce countless possibilities.

“Perhaps the spiritual power of the ‘Sitting and Forgetting’ state is still growing. The strengthening of the body indirectly nourishes the spirit, just as a powerful spirit accelerates physical cultivation; the two are complementary.”

Zhang Shu’s chatter continued in his ears, now recounting the exploits of his third grandpa and his concern for their hometown. When Zhang Yi was still a student at Lijiang University, he left school without hesitation to return home when a minor beast tide appeared outside the village, guarding the village for a full year.

Zhang Yi not only taught all the village’s able-bodied men the Rock Fist and the Tiger Soul Blade, he also led by example, personally slaying every vicious beast within ten miles of the village, ensuring three years of peace for the area.

It was then that Zhang Family Village changed its name to Rock Village.