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墨書 Inktalez
After six hours of continuous drills, a significant amount of rest time was scheduled for the crucial seventh hour. Allowing the warriors of the Crimson Dragon Army ample time to recuperate meant that their strength would rebound once the rest period ended. Rather than attempting to create more miracles while in an extremely fatigued state, it was essential to acknowledge that, no matter how strong the human body became, it was still not an endless reservoir of stamina like a monstrous entity. They would still feel tired and desire rest, including the enjoyment of food.
Only after securing the basic necessities of life could one aspire to a more refined social existence among the upper class.
In other words, during the six-hour drill, the Crimson Dragon Army hardly had time to eat, let alone rest. Their mental state was severely depleted. After finishing a meal, they returned to their barracks and fell into a deep sleep. The once vibrant military camp now resembled a deserted assembly after dismissal, its atmosphere bleak and desolate.
This desolation persisted for over ten hours. Aside from the time spent on meals, most of their remaining hours were dedicated to military preparations and supplementary training sessions. The higher-ups were sympathetic towards the exhausted warriors of the Crimson Dragon Army, who had endured six grueling hours, and they granted special permission to convert the last segment of time into rest for the soldiers.
Freyr also refrained from expending energy on cultivation. Despite being a training fanatic, he was utterly worn out at this point. When he finally tried to sleep, he realized that even after closing his eyes for quite some time, he still couldn't drift off. Did this mean his sleep time had been insufficient?
He felt that he had enough time to sleep; however, pushing himself to extremes in certain areas left him extremely fatigued. The structures of mental and life domains differed significantly; while life structures harnessed energy from life elements, mental domains often dealt with phenomena that science could not explain. Thus, when it came to addressing mental fatigue's side effects, effective solutions still existed—such as taking sleeping pills.
The effect of sleeping pills was genuinely remarkable.
After several hours, aside from a slight scratchiness in his throat, Freyr felt rejuvenated. However, long periods of sleep in response to complex strategic deployments made his actions seem somewhat rigid. In the later stages of his Dream Domain experience, he continuously faced erroneous influences that led to strategic miscalculations. This was exacerbated by extreme fatigue during which even higher-ups made more erroneous predictions in their commands. Therefore, he temporarily suspended his entry into the Dream Domain for simulated warfare training.
Time flew by swiftly until it was 1 AM.
The war exercise involving five teams was about to commence. The other four teams were on high alert as they cautiously tested each other’s readiness. Just by doing this, they could glean valuable data from the eyes of those on sentry duty and grasp all the details—this was indeed a worthwhile endeavor.
Before this Simulated War began, around nine o'clock, a deafening roar echoed through the Base Camp of the Crimson Dragon Army as the alarm for the Simulated War sounded. The color was a deep purple-blue; such a hue indicated that several legions were about to engage in a simulated game of Ultimate survival. In this game, only one team would emerge victorious.
It was not believed that survival in battle required multiple teams to remain intact; rather, this war simulation reflected a post-apocalyptic worldview where humanity must maintain its dominance at the top of Earth's biological chain. To achieve this status required possessing God's Heart; perhaps aside from humanity itself being unable to inflict further harm, all other ecosystems could be utterly destroyed.
Within the Base Camp, shadows moved stealthily through dark corners as if they could vanish into darkness in an instant.
The sentry at the entrance observed his surroundings thoughtfully before hesitating and standing still. Two other sentries shook their heads; it seemed they had not noticed anything unusual.
"Did you hear something earlier? It's quiet now."
"You must have misheard. Don't worry, the alarm hasn't gone off, which means it's safe here. It can't be that unlucky for us to be ambushed just when it's our turn to stand guard..." Another seasoned soldier chuckled.
"Are they here? The probe has already begun; let's go welcome our guests."
In the conference room, General Romeo sat with his arms crossed, staring intently at a crystal virtual screen before him, a smile slowly fading from his face as his expression grew serious, his brows furrowing and his gaze sharpening.
On his virtual screen, three unfamiliar figures flickered in various rooms. General Romeo stared at them for a moment before relaying the pre-established orders through Ansebo.
"Yes, General. I've already selected the personnel to guard these three bases and sent them out. They should be arriving right about now," came the voice of a young man from Ansebo's end.
"Is that so? That puts my mind at ease. We cannot let them return; if they relay information back, the defenses and deployments of the Crimson Dragon Army will be completely compromised. There are too many who want us gone," Abel Romeo stated.
There was no response from the other end...
Meanwhile, in another location, a shadow clad in black leather armor held an unusual shield in his right hand. He effortlessly bypassed the security system's checks, slicing through the laser network as if it were nothing more than cutting vegetables. At the end of the path ahead, he discovered a door.
"The Crimson Dragon Army is supposed to be the elite among all forces, but to me, they seem no different than anyone else. This must be their weapons storage; just wait until I turn them into useless scrap," he chuckled.
Standing still for a moment, he began to slowly remove his outer clothing and took off the mask that had been constricting his face, revealing a slightly handsome visage. He squinted his lively eyes and glanced around before peeling off his leather top.
The man gritted his teeth and let out a muffled grunt as he tore away a bandage stuck to his abdomen, treating himself like a discarded cardboard box as he roughly unraveled layer after layer until he finally pulled out a black device resembling a password book from deep inside.
"You've made me suffer like this; now all those weapons inside will belong to me." As he approached, he grabbed two red and blue wires at the bottom of the device and yanked them apart with a snap, causing data on the upper display to surge wildly.
"Ugh~ I can't watch this any longer. Is it really that easy for anyone to trample on us? You underestimate us too much; do you know what kind of unit we are? We are the invincible Crimson Dragon Army! Once you come deep into our base, there's no going back—stay here with us~"
While he was busy with his task, unbeknownst to him, another figure dropped down behind him from above, having been waiting there for quite some time.
Dressed in a crimson leather battle suit, the traditional combat attire of the Crimson Dragon Army, she bore an imposing image with the pattern of an immortal dragon soaring majestically on her back. In each hand, she wielded a pistol, showcasing her deep affinity for marksmanship.
"Raise your hands and stop struggling. I never show mercy to spies."
"That's not possible; I'm still on a mission!"
"Oh really? Well, I'm on a mission too. If I blow your head off, I'll just face some consequences—nothing serious. Are you really going to send me to a military court?"
As the chilling words echoed, the handsome man slowly turned his head, raising his hands slightly above his head. He immediately locked eyes with a pair of murderous pupils, reminiscent of a beast lurking in the depths of a dark abyss spotting its prey.
However, standing before him was a woman clad in a somewhat rustic military-style crimson leather suit, yet she managed to display an elegant and alluring figure.
The woman wore a horned cap on one side, with a strand of light brown hair cascading down. Perhaps due to the dim lighting, her hair appeared to be a striking shade of red, styled into a unique ponytail that exuded youthful charm.
In her hands were two revolvers marked with skull insignias—the Death Weasel model—gripped tightly as she faced him defiantly. Suddenly, the gun barrel jerked violently, and a burst of flames erupted.
The man quickly squatted to evade… only to feel a warm sensation spreading across his cheek. A sharp wound slowly emerged on the left side of his face.
He pinched the bloodied area beneath his cheekbone and brushed his fingers lightly over it, repeatedly rubbing the warm blood as he remarked, "Hmph, woman, you have some skill. Can you tell me your name?"
"Hmph, my objective has been achieved. Only one of us will leave here alive. Soon enough, reinforcements will arrive; remember who I am when you're captured. I am Leng Zhen, Captain of the Third Battalion of the Crimson Dragon Army." Leng Zhen chuckled lightly, her guns poised against him as if she feared nothing in her quest to take down more foes.
"Hahaha! I knew it wouldn't be that simple. I am Sahara from the Lion-Tiger Corps; that's all I can tell you. It's nice to meet you under such circumstances—it's fate?" Sahara replied.
Leng Zhen raised an eyebrow. "It doesn't matter who comes; it’s all the same. You will remain here until this battle ends before being exchanged back to your original unit."
Their conversation shifted sharply as thick tension filled the air. The stench of impending violence spread like wildfire around them as gunfire echoed continuously in the dimly lit room, where flashes of light occasionally sparked amidst their movements—attacking and dodging based on their instincts and the flickering flames ignited by their confrontation.
Meanwhile, at another location—the source of signal transmission.
The guards at the entrance lay sprawled on the ground, resting their heads and hands. A slightly slender cold woman strolled toward the door, as if nothing could hinder her; no one ever could.
She pinched the tip of the Steel Needle and slowly pried open the security mechanism, making sure not to make a sound. If an alarm went off, her whereabouts would be completely exposed.
With a swift upward jab of the Steel Needle, the Red Alert Source Code instantly switched to Blue Access Code. She took a deep breath, and another Steel Needle vanished into her palm.
"Done!"
"This is a Military Restricted Area; you can't go in."
"That's fine; I'm going to the restricted zone, and none of you can stop me."
As she spoke, a needle shot from her fingertip toward a shadow standing not far behind her. The moment it met the woman's enchanting gaze, he swiftly waved his hand, snatching the Steel Needle between his fingers.
"A sewing needle as a weapon? That's laughable." He slowly opened his hand, and a Steel Needle clattered to the ground with a faint sound.
"Oh? Handsome, you're much more interesting than them. I love strong men. Do you think I'm suitable for you?"
The man's gaze hardened, and his lips twitched slightly. "Enough. I have someone I like. Lady Thousand Needles, right? There's a woman in the Lion-Tiger Corps who excels at using sewing needles to attack—it's you."
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