Ever since Mo Hai transformed into her “Martial Arts Mentor,” Jinhsi’s reliance on him acquired a whole new dimension.
She no longer came merely to bring food and share her thoughts; she brought every single difficulty she encountered in her cultivation and dumped them all into this small room.
And Mo Hai thoroughly enjoyed it.
With the assistance of the system’s “Combat Simulation” feature, he had practically become an all-around martial master.
No matter how obscure the sword techniques Jinhsi brought or how intricate the methods of cultivating Resonance power were, he could always pinpoint the flaws with absolute precision after hearing them once and offer the optimal plan for improvement.
Even though Jinhsi couldn’t sense any particularly formidable Resonance power from Mo Hai, it didn’t stop her from admiring him.
In just half a month, Jinhsi’s strength surged by leaps and bounds, leaving the instructors teaching her dumbfounded, exclaiming that the Young Master possessed extraordinary natural talent and was truly a divine prodigy.
Whenever that happened, Jinhsi would secretly chuckle in her heart.
She knew that her true “divine master” was hiding in that inconspicuous corner, eating the snacks she made that were occasionally burnt.
This feeling of possessing a powerful secret that belonged solely to her and remained unknown to anyone else gave her unprecedented satisfaction and joy.
That evening, when Jinhsi came over, she didn’t pull out her usual snacks.
Instead, her small face bore a mix of worry and excitement ill-suited to her age.
“Mo Hai, do you know?
General Geshu Lin has arrived in Jinzhou!” The moment she sat down, she couldn’t wait to share the “major news” she had heard today.
Geshu Lin?
Mo Hai searched his memory for the name.
He remembered—this was a Jinzhou general famous for his fierceness and aggressive stance, holding immense prestige within the military.
“I heard the instructors say General Geshu Lin came to the state prefecture this time to propose taking the initiative—launching a strike to reclaim Beiluo Barren in one fell swoop and completely eradicating the Tacet Discords entrenched there!” Admiration sparkled in Jinhsi’s eyes.
“Everyone says the general’s plan is flawless.
As long as it succeeds, the northern border of Jinzhou can enjoy permanent peace.” Looking at her like that, Mo Hai inexplicably felt a surge of unease.
A flawless plan?
The more perfect something seems, the easier it is for fatal cracks to appear.
He thought of his advanced system module that hadn’t been fully unlocked yet.
Perhaps he could give it a try.
“Jinhsi, wait for me a moment.” Mo Hai closed his eyes and issued a brand-new command to the system in his mind.
“System, activate the ‘Future Deduction’ module.
Simulate General Geshu Lin’s ‘Battle of the Crescent Blade.'” This Future Deduction could only simulate battle-related events, and the time frame had to be close to real time.
It was an extremely defiance-of-heaven talent.
Considered a major golden finger.
[Command received…
Detected that the “Future Deduction” module is an advanced feature.
The first activation requires a large amount of Simulation Points.
Confirm?] “Confirm.” [Command confirmed.] [Constructing simulated battlefield: Beiluo Barren.] [Importing allied units: Jinzhou Midnight Rangers.
Commander: Geshu Lin.] [Importing enemy units: Beiluo Barren standard Tacet Discords.
Boss-level Tacet Discord: Ovathrax.] [Importing variables: Battlefield environment, Threnodian intervention, random disasters…] [Simulated deduction starting!] Mo Hai’s consciousness was instantly pulled into an incomparably real virtual battlefield.
From a god-like perspective, he looked down upon the entirety of Beiluo Barren.
The initial stage of the war progressed as smoothly as he had imagined.
Under General Geshu Lin’s leadership, the Midnight Rangers advanced like a hot knife through butter, slaying countless Tacet Discords and swiftly reclaiming vast stretches of lost territory.
The banner of victory seemed well within reach.
However, on the third day…
The weather suddenly turned.
The sky grew dark and gloomy, and bean-sized raindrops began to fall.
Yet inexplicably, those raindrops were flying upward!
Retroact Rain!
Mo Hai’s heart sank abruptly.
He had read records regarding this phenomenon: those touched by this rain would see phantoms of the past.
Panic began to spread across the battlefield.
Then, something even more terrifying occurred.
Along with the reverse-flowing rain, countless “phantoms” of soldiers who had long sacrificed themselves crawled out from beneath the ground.
Their faces were blurred and their movements stiff, yet they held weapons and indiscriminately attacked everyone around them.
Friend and foe became indistinguishable, and the front lines collapsed instantly.
Meanwhile, the most powerful Threnodian—Ovathrax—was far from weakened in the chaos; instead, it absorbed the death and fear permeating the battlefield, growing stronger by the moment.
Slain Tacet Discords swiftly reassembled and rejoined the fight.
It was an endless, desperate war.
Mo Hai watched helplessly as the once high-spirited General Geshu Lin, upon witnessing the tragic sight of his entire army annihilated, let out an unwilling roar and charged alone like a shooting star toward Ovathrax, only to be completely swallowed by darkness.
[Simulation complete.] [Final result evaluation: Allied participating forces casualty rate 97%, total annihilation.
Strategic objective failed completely.
Commander Geshu Lin missing, presumed killed in action.] [Warning: This is a high-probability future scenario.
Host is advised to intervene with caution.] Mo Hai snapped his eyes open, his face deathly pale, his forehead drenched in fine beads of cold sweat.
“Mo Hai?
What’s wrong?” Jinhsi was startled by his appearance and quickly leaned over, using her small hand to touch his forehead.
“Why is your face so pale?
Are you sick?” “I…
I’m fine.” Mo Hai took a deep breath, forcefully quelling the shock in his chest.
Looking into Jinhsi’s clear, concern-filled eyes, he knew he couldn’t directly tell her everything he had seen.
That would be too shocking and unbelievable, and she wouldn’t be able to comprehend it anyway.
He had to phrase it differently.
“Jinhsi, just now…
I played a war game in my head,” he organized his words, his voice still somewhat raspy.
“A war game?” “Yeah.
I pretended I was General Geshu Lin leading the Midnight Rangers to attack Beiluo Barren.” Mo Hai’s expression turned intensely serious.
“But…
I lost.
I lost terribly.” Jinhsi froze, not understanding why Mo Hai would suddenly talk about this, but she still asked patiently, “Why did you lose?
Isn’t General Geshu Lin very formidable?” “Because in my game, some very strange things happened.” Mo Hai looked into her eyes, speaking slowly, word by word.
“On the battlefield, it suddenly started raining upward.” “From the rain emerged many, many shadows of dead soldiers.
They killed anyone they saw, unable to distinguish friend from foe.” “What was most terrifying was that those Tacet Discords couldn’t be killed at all.
The moment we killed one, it would quickly stand back up and become even stronger.
The more we killed, the stronger they became—as if…
every single attack of ours was feeding them.” Jinhsi listened with her little mouth slightly agape, her face filled with disbelief.
“Rain flying upward?
Unkillable Tacet Discords?
How…
how could that be possible?
That’s just a game you imagined, right?” “Right, it’s just a game,” Mo Hai nodded.
Yet immediately after, he added in an incomparably serious tone: “But Jinhsi…
real war is far more complex and dangerous than any game.
You never know what unexpected turn of events will happen in the next moment.” “Tell those adults: taking the initiative to attack might be brave, but protecting what you already have sometimes requires even greater courage.” Having said that, he fell silent, his head lowered as though he were still submerged in that tragic simulated war.
Jinhsi stared at him, her heart churning like stormy seas.
Mo Hai’s story was too absurd—so absurd it sounded like a joke.
Yet looking at Mo Hai’s pale face and his eyes that were no longer calm, filled with a heavy emotion she couldn’t quite understand, she couldn’t bring herself to laugh.
She remembered how Mo Hai had seen through the flaws in her sword technique at a single glance.
She remembered how Mo Hai had found fatal openings in moves she thought were perfect.
Perhaps…
Perhaps his “game” wasn’t entirely made up out of thin air after all?
That thought fell like a seed, quietly sinking into the soil of her heart.
That night, Jinhsi left the small hut with her mind completely consumed by the strange imagery Mo Hai had described.
Rain flying upward.
Phantom soldiers returning from the dead.
And enemies that could never be killed.
For the very first time, she felt a sliver of doubt toward that “flawless” battle plan praised by the entire city.