Chapter Twenty: Grueling Training in March

October 2116. Mount Lu.

On the training grounds of the Feilong Camp Training Base, Hua Feng and Xiao Meng sat on the grass. Gazing at the white clouds drifting across the clear sky and letting the gentle autumn breeze of Mount Lu caress them, the two leaned back against each other, looking up at the heavens. The sunlight of autumn spilled lazily over their bodies, filling them with a drowsy languor that made sleep seem irresistible.

“Xiao Meng, do you remember the disaster I once told you about that’s coming?” Hua Feng turned his head and looked at Yun Meng.

“Of course I remember. You said the disaster was caused by over a century of spatial collapse, which led to distortion of time and space. You estimated it would happen around 2120, and it would be global in scope. Isn’t that right?” Xiao Meng replied.

As she grew older, Xiao Meng’s figure had become more pronounced, with graceful curves and a lively presence. Her large eyes, faint dimples, and the subtle fragrance unique to young girls radiated from her. Though Hua Feng often spent time with her, sometimes he would be caught off guard, mesmerized by her beautiful smile, staring absentmindedly.

Noticing Hua Feng’s nearly enchanted gaze as he turned to look at her, Xiao Meng’s face flushed, but her heart brimmed with delight. After all, being liked by someone you care for is a joy for anyone.

Realizing he was staring, Hua Feng nodded awkwardly, then continued, “Yes, exactly. So the matter with Po Jun was a wake-up call. The most urgent thing right now is to improve our skills as quickly as possible. After more than half a month of cultivation, I feel I’m on the verge of a breakthrough. Xiao Meng, you must focus on your training. Though I’ll always protect you, your own strength is indispensable.”

“Got it! Brother Hua Feng, you’re much more nagging than you used to be, haha…” Xiao Meng said, then dashed away in a flash.

“Huh? Who are you calling nagging? You little rascal, just wait—don’t run!” Hua Feng chased after her.

Happy moments are always fleeting. After some playful chasing, they each returned to their training.

It had been over half a month since the last intensive training, when Po Jun, the camp leader’s younger brother, was killed by Chiyou’s Immortal-Slaying Arrow, his soul extinguished. Since then, aside from harsher training, the camp leader rarely appeared. Po Jun’s final sacrifice for the camp leader earned him forgiveness from everyone, who felt he still had a conscience.

No one was more affected than Camp Leader Chen Sheng. No one expected the usually imposing and stoic Chen Sheng, whose strength was unmatched in Feilong Camp, to be so shaken by Po Jun’s death—perhaps out of guilt, or something else. Upon returning to the base with his team, Chen Sheng spoke only one sentence: “Train for battle! The sweat shed today is to prevent bloodshed tomorrow!”

And so, there was only training, training, and more training. The intensity and frequency of drills nearly doubled. Though the training was grueling, everyone persevered with clenched teeth, fully understanding the camp leader’s intentions. In the days that followed, Chen Sheng’s words—“Train for battle! The sweat shed today is to prevent bloodshed tomorrow!”—became etched in the hearts of every Feilong Camp trainee.

Perhaps Chen Sheng sensed a looming crisis. Setting aside the ever-uncertain threat of Chiyou, the rumored disaster five years hence was drawing closer—less than five years remained. Chen Sheng dared not relax, especially as Feilong Camp was one of the strongest special forces at the time.

A Feilong Camp special forces trainee had to complete the following tasks in a day:

A 15-kilogram weighted run, covering 5 kilometers in 22 minutes;
An 800-meter obstacle course in under 4 minutes;
Throwing exercises hundreds of times, each throw exceeding 80 meters;
Within one minute, 100 push-ups or 60 reps with a 35-kilogram barbell.

Combat skills training: each special forces soldier must master various weapons from both domestic and foreign armies, including firearms, grenades, rifles, small-caliber artillery, and anti-tank weapons. Unarmed combat must be exceptional. They must adapt to urban warfare, night operations, and be capable of search, capture, and escape.

Mobility skills training: Beyond proficient vehicle driving, they must be able to troubleshoot and use equipment and weapons mounted on vehicles.

Infiltration skills training: Parachuting, climbing, traversing minefields, map reading, and long-distance cross-country marches. The best special forces soldiers rival professional athletes in these fields.

Reconnaissance and espionage skills training: Observation, stealth, eavesdropping, capturing, interrogating, photography, and various intelligence-gathering methods. When necessary, encrypted communications must be used. They must also perform over 200 repetitions on both single and parallel bars.

Outside of eating and sleeping, the rest of their time was devoted to cultivation—absorbing and gathering energy, raising their level.

Three months quickly passed. All the trainees had become true Feilong Camp special forces soldiers, qualified warriors. During this time, Hua Feng’s cultivation miraculously reached the thirtieth level of the King rank. Xiao Meng had reached the twenty-seventh level; in actual combat, without using true energy, she could already fight Hua Feng to a standstill—her progress was remarkable.

Li Long, Wang Yue, Yang Tian, and Shuang Ning had also attained the initial King-level cultivation. This was due not only to the instructors’ help and daily training, but also their own relentless effort in cultivation.

During these months, the nightmare rarely troubled Hua Feng anymore, but he never doubted its reality.