Volume One: In the Prime of Youth Chapter Seventeen: Don't Forget to Breathe

Bancroft was on guard against the attacks of the Calamities at nearly every moment, especially after the Academy decided to guide a large number of them into an examination. Vast stores of supplies were amassed directly behind the city walls, and the teachers in charge of the operation followed the surge of students onto the ramparts.

Encircling the outermost ring of the Calamities’ siege was a detachment of heavily armed Hunters’ Regiment soldiers. They watched these monsters—ignorant of their own plight—with predatory intent. Some soldiers were astonished by Bancroft’s audacity in letting students face life and death in such circumstances, but they understood well that people who had seen true battlefields were a world apart from those who hadn’t.

If the students could grow accustomed to this kind of scene before they even entered the army, all the better. After all, the greatest pressure in this war would still be shouldered by these Hunters’ Regiment soldiers.

No one thought Bancroft had assembled ten thousand Calamities just to create danger for his own people out of boredom.

The Hunters’ Regiment: to drive out and hunt down Calamities. That was their work, their duty. Now, with a golden opportunity to cut down swathes of Calamities like harvesting wheat, they could not wish for more.

To the direct south—where the supreme Calamity commander stood—one particular regiment had set its sights on them. These Hunters wore light, agile uniforms that were nonetheless tough enough to withstand the attacks of most Calamities. Over their hearts, their regimental insignia bore the unique emblem of their unit: the Reaper’s Scythe.

The First Human Hunters’ Regiment—the Reaper Regiment. Their commander was humanity’s foremost warrior, Eddie Halls.

Eddie sat astride his hovering motorbike and said to his deputy, Genos, “Reconnaissance reports one Supreme Calamity. Judging by the mark on him, he belongs to the Tenth Calamity.”

Through the resources won from the Wildlands, humanity had developed new technology. The Calamities—especially those Supreme types who had taken on human form—had also been learning human culture. Now, any Calamity belonging to the Twelve Disasters bore a Roman numeral branded somewhere on their bodies. The Supreme Calamity leading the horde wore the numeral “X” at his throat.

Genos chuckled. “The Tenth Calamity? Didn’t you just behead him five months ago? How did they find a successor so quickly?”

The Twelve Disasters were certainly the strongest of the Calamities, but they weren’t immortal—especially when facing Eddie Halls. Perhaps the Disasters could always find new successors, but Eddie Halls’ existence seemed to embody humanity’s message: For every one you replace, we will slay another.

At that moment, an elegant lady rode up from the rear of the unit. Twin automatics hung at her waist, and though her crisp uniform radiated efficiency, nothing could conceal her innate grace and nobility. She smiled radiantly. “Who would have thought, after all these years, we’d return to our alma mater together—to fight a war? And Eddie, your son and daughter seem to be right in this direction.”

Eddie nodded. “Mm.” Then to Genos, he said, “Pass the order. Final preparations. Once the signal comes, we close the encirclement immediately.”

——————————————————————

Huo Ye took deep breaths, filling his power as much as possible—like pouring more water into a brimming cup. The last time he killed twenty Frostfang Wolves had taught him a hard lesson: he’d paid too little attention to his ability’s endurance.

If the wall of fire at the start hadn’t been so large—draining nearly eighty percent of his energy to maintain its strength and height, ensuring no Calamity could break through—and if he hadn’t had to carry five useless burdens, Huo Ye would have chosen to cut down all twenty Calamities himself, and with far less effort.

War would not end in a few short minutes. Huo Ye now had to consider how to extend his combat time. And one more thing—if this truly was an exam, should he use his Dark Compatibility? After all, this was a battle against Calamities—a real war. Concealing one’s strength on the battlefield might cause the death of comrades.

But then he remembered Ke Zhen’s repeated warnings not to reveal everything too easily. Huo Ye decided not to use it unless absolutely necessary—when the situation left him no choice.

Half an hour was neither long nor short. Once the human side was ready, the Calamities shattered the force field.

As soon as one breach appeared, the entire force field began to crumble. The Supreme Calamity roared, “Attack!” His voice thundered across the world. Even those to the north, both humans and Calamities, heard it loud and clear.

In that instant, the howls of wolves, roars of tigers, and cries of eagles mingled together. These beast-shaped Calamities surged toward Bancroft’s walls like a tidal wave. There, students stood, ready to defend the line with their lives, thinking the Calamities nothing more than prey on the chopping block. They did not realize that, as the mantis stalked the cicada, a finch lurked behind.

Behind them waited the Hunters’ Regiment.

Huo Ye said to the other three, “Is everyone ready? The Calamities will be here any second.”

“I’m ready!” Alice answered first.

Shangguan Yudie remained silent.

Little Six shouted excitedly, “Let’s smash them to pieces!”

“Well said, Little Six. Alice, you support; Shangguan Yudie, you’re best at finishing off stragglers. That means you and I take the front!” Huo Ye instructed.

Little Six thumped his chest. “No problem!”

Huo Ye’s lips curled into a slight smile. He lifted the cross hanging at his chest and kissed it gently—a birthday gift from Qingxue before she died, a kiss for its blessing.

Qingxue was gone, but Huo Ye continued to chase his dream. For him, she was always at his side, always watching over him.

When the Calamities were two kilometers from the wall, the commanding teacher gave the order. The students manning the power turrets completed the loading and firing sequence within five years’ worth of training.

Shells of all seven elemental powers rained down like a torrential storm upon the Calamity horde. Amid the explosions, many Calamities below B-rank were obliterated along with their true forms—reduced to nothing more than cannon fodder.

Yet such large-scale bombardment was not truly lethal to the Calamities. Not even B-rank Calamities would stay down; after regenerating their limbs, they charged on once more.

With the enemy at their gates, the students did not relinquish their advantage to sally forth. The terrain was theirs; perhaps the Calamities could pierce the wall, but before that, they would have to brave the pounding barrage from above.

Students with ranged powers unleashed their attacks downward. The students were experienced in defense, but the Calamities had never learned to storm a city. Rather than battering the wall head-on as they’d done with the force field, they failed to realize that scaling it might have been more effective than trying to break through Bancroft’s proud, decades-thick fortifications.

The first to target the humans atop the wall were the flying Calamities.

A golden eagle, wings spanning over ten meters, was the first to reach the wall. It saw a human, arms folded, face full of pride, seemingly staring it down with a provocative gaze. The eagle decided to devour this human first.

But unexpectedly, the human simply placed his hands on the hilts of his twin blades at his waist and murmured, “A wise man knows his limits. I believe that applies to Calamities, too.”

Today, the long saber cuts through ghosts and gods; unsheathing it, one strike startles the very mountains.

The Thirteen Forms of the Blood Blade—second form, Sundown Reverse Cut. This is the art of the unsheathing strike. The moment I draw my blade is the moment I attack.

Huo Ye’s draw was as swift as a dragon leaping from water. The golden eagle, wings wide as a sail, was severed in half by a single stroke.

“Little Six, your turn,” Huo Ye said coolly.

Sensing disaster, the golden eagle tried to sprout wings and flee, but suddenly felt one wing pierced by an unknown force. In a breath, that entire wing dissolved into smoke and vanished.

Alice blew playfully on the barrel of her gun, as if clearing away imaginary smoke, her smile mischievous and charming.

Little Six charged forward with a shout, “Yaaah!” He threw a punch—no sign of any power technique, but where his fist struck, the Calamity exploded in a fiery burst, exposing its true form.

Before the eagle could hit the ground—still clinging to a shred of hope—it suddenly realized it could no longer feel its true self. Then it noticed wisps of black smoke curling from its body. Shangguan Yudie withdrew her shortsword, Frost Dew, from its chest. The four worked together seamlessly, slaying a B-rank Calamity in the blink of an eye, without the slightest effort.

Elsewhere, many students were flustered. Working together, they might also have dispatched a B-rank Calamity unscathed, but neither their efficiency nor their composure could match Huo Ye’s team.

Huo Ye and Alice were children of soldiers, already tempered by minor wars, possessing calm and steady nerves. Shangguan Yudie, though perhaps nervous, adjusted her mental wavelengths with her powers, keeping her emotions as still as a quiet lake—a talent in itself. Little Six seemed to know nothing of fear, treating the war as nothing more than an exhilarating game.

War always brings death. On a narrow path, the brave prevail.

With a flick of his blade, Huo Ye infused his words with spatial power, letting nearly everyone present hear his rousing speech: “The war has truly begun. We are Awakened, we are warriors—whether you were ready or not before, now is the time to wield your blades! Do not be nervous, do not panic—no matter what, never forget to breathe.”

Huo Ye used his spatial powers sparingly; no one would notice. But his words were a shot of adrenaline, flooding everyone with newfound vigor.

Never forget to breathe. It may sound trivial, but for the Awakened, breath is the source. As long as they controlled their breathing, their powers would flow, perhaps not fast enough to match what they spent, but enough to keep fighting longer.

That’s right—never forget to breathe!