Assailing the secret realm wasn't the goal of the Black Armor and Divine Arm soldiers; gathering its resources was. After a quick tally of merits, they swiftly withdrew, leaving only Zhou Yuan and Army Marshal Cai Cheng. Seeing his puzzled look, Cai Cheng explained.
"In case a fighting soldier suddenly drops dead, camp rules require at least two stay to hold the realm and await the transport troops moving the goods. Usually we'd leave one Divine Arm man and one realm leader. Today I kept you because you're to be stationed here permanently, and should learn this place's every blade of grass as soon as you can."
Like a dungeon NPC, Cai Cheng tirelessly briefed Zhou Yuan on the dungeon's conditions. Besides detailing every bandit's position and attack rhythm, he led him into the demon chief's room.
"Zhou Yuan, all men have greed; young and high-spirited as you are, you likely aren't free of it either. I bring you here to tell you the demon chief's room holds spirit-medicines — but they're counted, unchanged for years. Not only that: every resource in the realm is counted; a single piece short shows. Open the big chest by the bed and look — isn't there inside ten white-porcelain bottles, five blue-porcelain bottles, and one technique manual?"
Zhou Yuan caught his meaning: the new leader was teaching him to curb his desires, not to filch what he shouldn't — one check and you're caught. Such kind warning he had to accept, so he opened the chest as told. Sure enough: ten bottles of wound salve, five of Jade-Truth Powder, and a manual called 【Three-Powers Stance】.
"Just as the Army Marshal said, not a hair off. Your subordinate is instructed; henceforth I'll curb greed and take nothing from the realm."
"So long as you understand. What can be given you, the camp will allot even if you say nothing. The powder in the white bottles best staunches wounds; every Black Armor and Divine Arm man hurt in a realm campaign may draw a bottle. The stockade's pigs, chickens, grain — some goes into your bellies, some is converted to coin for you. Don't think the Black Armor and Divine Arm only risk their lives; in truth they're all moneyed, most having bought land and taken wives in Jing'an City. In this realm, only those five blue-porcelain bottles you can't have. They're qi-nurturing spirit-objects, a martial artist's spirit-food — precious beyond measure, yet worth nothing to you. A word of advice: if one day you're lucky enough to gain a spirit-object, never use it yourself. Once you start, you can't stop; without spirit-objects to nurture the qi, your qi scatters and you revert to mortal — in the end, all for nothing."
To Zhou Yuan, Jade-Truth Powder was just a blue potion; grinding the dungeon dropped him several bottles, hardly precious. But to locals it was another matter: a dungeon item that restored qi was their source of the extraordinary, and the spirit-object that sustained it. When opening and sustaining were concentrated in one class of item, dungeon spirit-objects became the very foundation of the transcendent class.
"Many thanks for the Army Marshal's warning. Your subordinate will engrave it on his heart."
While they spoke, a squad in red plain-clothes ran into the stockade. They split into groups and deftly ransacked everything; the demon chief's room too — the Jade-Truth Powder, treated as the realm's spirit-objects, was even carried out by an officer in person. After they left, another squad entered seamlessly, heading straight for the stockade's pigsty.
"Bang."
An iron mace smashed a pig's skull; two men shouldered it and ran; in a blink nine pigs of various sizes were hauled out of the realm. Next came men for grain, men catching chickens, men gathering bows and weapons — wave after wave, an endless stream like ants moving house. For a moment Zhou Yuan couldn't tell whether they were a regular army or professional bandits.
"What are you staring at them for? Study the terrain properly. Our Black Armor usually holds the foe at these three spots; try which firing position suits you best, and how to reach it fast."
"Army Marshal, shouldn't we help?"
"No. They're well-practiced; the work is safe and the pay high — no bitter duty. If we help, their transport unit won't need so many men. Don't go scattering kindness and break another man's rice bowl."
Fighting soldiers and auxiliaries were different systems: fighters fought and oversaw, auxiliaries transported. Cai Cheng told Zhou Yuan they stood here not idle but supervising; without oversight, some might pocket goods, some shove and jostle and break order. Having handed Cai Cheng the duty of supervision, Zhou Yuan explored the stockade carefully. He found the Jing'an army truly were seasoned thieves: a room the auxiliaries had visited was cleaner than a dog had licked it. Bedding and cloth taken, treasure chests carried off, even the kitchen's knives and iron pots rolled up. He looked at a wooden bed in a room and found it strangely familiar — looking closer, well, identical to the one he slept in at the Shesheng Camp. No wonder the Jing'an army was unreasonably rich; with the Oxhead Stockade as an ever-respawning blood-bank, they couldn't be poor if they tried.
While there was nothing to do, Zhou Yuan added the 200 experience from the boss to Bowstring Control. The instant it hit max level, he felt everything around him fall still. It was an ultimate focus; in this state the auxiliaries hauling goods seemed to slow considerably. He had only to raise his bow to know where to loose so an arced arrow would strike an auxiliary's head, body, or legs. The stiff three-dan bow turned supple as a two-dan foot-bow; his fingertips brushing the string drew the power naturally.
"Whff, bang, bang."
Three keen arrows flew at the stockade's log wall; the first had barely landed when the second split its shaft, and the third arrived in an instant, nailing the same point hard.
"Three stars threaded, many arrows of one heart. Now if the bandit chief stood still, these three arrows would surely pierce its skull and empty its bar."
Max-level Bowstring Control had broken past mortal limits. In all the Jing'an army now, save the mysterious martial artists, none could shoot truer or faster than Zhou Yuan. Perhaps some uncommonly gifted archer could match it for a single moment — but he couldn't hold that flash of brilliance, while for Zhou Yuan it was the permanent state.
When Zhou Yuan and Army Marshal Cai Cheng left the realm, the colonel's manor's audit clerks delivered coin at once. Zhou Yuan got 4 taels of gold and 500 coins, Cai Cheng 6 taels with no extra coin.
"Army Marshal, isn't our treatment too good? Enter the realm a few more times like this and it'd be hard not to get rich."
"You put in more, you take more; the other archers get at most three-tenths of you. The Black Armor take a bit more, but they defend with their lives and take more harm. I'm a special case — usually 6 taels of gold, but I'm fined for mistakes; lose a single Black Armor man and I pay for it."
Zhou Yuan weighed the four taels and suddenly understood why the camp's rewards were so lavish. The Black Armor and Divine Arm were, after all, normal people; they couldn't fight hard wars for many years. Perhaps a year of high-intensity battle would wear them in body and weary them in heart; without heavy money, the will for bloody battle couldn't be raised.