The Divine Arm Squad was a special guard within the Shesheng Camp, formed of thirty-odd divine archers. Zhou Yuan had heard the soldiers speak of the Divine Arm Squad, but took them only for elite troops, not knowing what they did. When the camp drillmaster came to talk with him, he grasped the squad's special nature.
"Zhou Yuan, did you know? The world holds deathless, undying demons, and martial artists who come and go on high and can break armies."
"I've heard a little, though I've never seen it; I took such talk for myth and legend. I never thought it real. Why does Drillmaster Zhong bring this up — have you something to teach me?"
Looking at the earnest-faced Zhou Yuan, Drillmaster Zhong suddenly recalled his origin, and couldn't help lamenting inwardly that no sorrow of the good-born farming class ran deeper than this — a whole muddled life, never knowing the world's true face.
"I'd forgotten your background. In a remote village, starved of news, how could you know the vastness of heaven and earth? I know you're born with a fine frame and rare gifts; sooner or later you'd scorn the camp's mediocrities and conceive the proud notion of testing the whole world with your bow. But I tell you: the world is vast, and this little talent of yours is nothing before true power."
"The drillmaster wrongs me. I've no arrogance yet, nor dare I look down on the world's heroes."
Drillmaster Zhong's words made Zhou Yuan see that his recent showing had been a touch too brilliant; the camp was either admonishing him or preparing to win him over.
"You're sensible for now, boy, or I'd not say so much. Since you've heard the demon tales, let me tell you where these martial artists come from. You must understand: the human body has a limit. A born frame like yours is rare enough, never mind a martial artist who can stand against demons. The root of a martial artist's power is qi, which the Daoists also call spiritual energy. This spiritual energy does not dwell in the mountains and rivers of the land, but in grotto-heavens and blessed lands, in heaven-and-earth secret realms — more precisely, within the demons or objects of those realms. Those secret-realm demons are deathless and undying; the dynasty's armies, the great clans, the temples and abbeys assail them ceaselessly to extract the objects that carry spiritual energy. Only thus does the world hold army-breaking martial artists, mystery-piercing Daoists, vajra arhats, and other mighty figures."
The more Drillmaster Zhong warmed to it, the clearer it grew to Zhou Yuan. The powerful demon-beasts, the marvelous plants, the strange weapons in the dungeons could indeed serve as a foundation for the extraordinary, opening a road to great power. Because of the dungeons' respawn nature, even without yielding experience, the special items they kept producing could forge a certain population of transcendents.
"So that's it. By your words, drillmaster — men devour demons to gain spiritual energy and become transcendent. Do demons gain anything from killing men?"
"Sharp, truly. Men eat demons to gain energy; demons eat men to gain wits. The former dynasty ran experiments: after a demon slaughters a certain number of people, it gives birth to a spiritual intelligence — like a puppet's empty shell growing a new soul. But the stronger the demon, the harder it births wits; a weak one gains them after killing a few, a strong one stays a wooden puppet though it slaughters thousands."
Zhou Yuan hadn't thought monsters could gain wits by killing — rather like the legendary demons who eat men, gain cunning, and take form. Still, game monsters gaining wits shouldn't be a great problem, or Great Wei's commandery cities wouldn't be so prosperous. But he still had a doubt, so he probed along, testing humanity's plight.
"Demons are deathless and undying; once they gain wits, what hope of survival have we?"
"That's the reasoning, but it's their bodies that are deathless, not their souls. Even with wits, slay one once and it reverts to a puppet — which is why our human way flourishes."
"Many thanks for the drillmaster's enlightenment. Only today do I know the world's vastness and heaven and earth's mystery. Henceforth I'll train hard and breed no arrogance."
Zhou Yuan thanked him sincerely; without Drillmaster Zhong's explanation, he didn't know how long it would have taken to understand this world. Looking back now, the game dungeons and game monsters brought this world not only calamity but all manner of marvelous chances.
"So long as you've got it straight. The commandant means to move you into the Divine Arm Squad. The Divine Arm Squad and the Wuwei Camp's Black Armor Squad are the units charged with secret-realm slaughter. Most of our camp's meat comes from the heaven-and-earth secret realms; without the Divine Arm and Black Armor squads' campaigns, Jing'an City couldn't feed so many elite soldiers. What say you — dare you see the wonders of heaven and earth?"
"I could ask for nothing more. Please lead the way, drillmaster."
"Good. You're young, with ample time to amass merit. With distinguished merit one day, you might even win a reward of spirit-objects, and go glimpse the world of martial artists."
Though Drillmaster Zhong spoke fair, he knew the good-born Zhou Yuan had almost no chance at such a thing. Why else did the clan-born scions enlist for posts rather than wait for their families to allot spirit-objects? Because spirit-objects were of limited yield; even an unbroken supply could serve only a few, the more so since the stronger one grew the more one needed. Some clans struggled to keep even two martial artists with the whole family's strength, forever fearing the yield would fall short and starve a martial artist who needed energy to replenish. Take Zhong Xu himself — clan-born too, and what of it? Not half a spirit-object to enjoy, only the army and a life sold cheap. He still remembered the clan head's words: the family's spirit-objects were more than enough for one, not enough for two, so they could serve only one and keep the surplus — lest a martial artist break through and need more, forcing them to sell their lives to another clan, begging for spirit-food.
"This world — nothing's harder to bear than watching another soar like a great roc while you sink lower than a chicken."
"What is it, Drillmaster Zhong — why the grief?"
"Hahaha... you're young and have seen little, and that's just as well. Best never to see it, or you'll be haunted by world-overturning wild dreams, and end up neither common nor exalted, neither soldier nor lord — ill at ease wherever you go, your soul forever yearning."
Zhou Yuan glanced at Drillmaster Zhong and offered no comfort. Everyone has their own story; perhaps Zhong Xu's life was full of regret. But Zhou Yuan was, in the end, an outsider, and he most avoided feigning shared feeling or speaking deep on short acquaintance.
Led by the careworn Drillmaster Zhong, Zhou Yuan walked out of the Shesheng Camp; only then did he learn the Divine Arm Squad's base wasn't in the camp at all. The two walked in silence, each on his own thoughts, and before long reached the colonel's manor at the city's heart. The armored guards at the gate checked the transfer document and waved them in. Down corridor after corridor, a broad space opened ahead, a strange parade ground meeting the eye. Here were physicians' halls, an audit hall, taverns and eateries, even a pretty pleasure-house — like an orderly little town. And in a room marked "storehouse," Zhou Yuan saw the familiar black whirlpool.
【Dungeon: Oxhead Stockade】
【Recommended challenge level 3; recommended party size 10-15】
"Well? Care for some fun at the pleasure-house? The girls there are all dancers of Jing'an City. Before and after the Divine Arm and Black Armor squads enter the secret realm, they may go in for pleasure and music, to vent the killing rage in their hearts."