Chapter 477: The Gift, The War Post

Military camp.

Tents stretching for who knows how many miles.

The military aura condensed; Beiman soldiers were truly drilling, preparing at any moment to invade the Central Plains to the south. That flowery world, that magnificent landscape—why shouldn't they be the ones to enjoy it?

A tent located at the very center of the military camp.

It lacked any complex or luxurious decorations, being merely exceptionally sturdy and exceptionally vast. It was as if it were not a tent, but a spacious and simple palace.

Outside this "palace," there was no shortage of soldiers and generals passing by, but almost everyone, when looking toward this tent, could not help but reveal a look of worship, wishing they could prostrate themselves and become the most fanatical of believers. It was as if the one residing within was not a human, but a God.

No, perhaps that is exactly what he is.

——The Military God of Beiman.

The Military God of Beiman, Tuoba Pusa.

Inside the tent, a person was practicing boxing.

This person had a dull and simple face, long arms like an ape, and old clothes; his whole body was permeated with a rustic air, as if he were a farmhand who had labored in the fields for decades as one day, and he did not resemble a general or an expert in the slightest.

The punches thrown by the farmhand were also simple and unadorned, without any flourishes, as if it were a set that even a three-year-old child could hum and throw together.

The only difference was that when the farmhand stretched his limbs, he carried a mighty thunder; every move was like a muffled thunderclap exploding, making those who heard it feel terrified.

After the farmhand finished his boxing, he calmed his Qi for a moment. A soldier came to report that Young Master Xiao requested an audience.

The farmhand wiped the sweat from his head, sat on his seat, and summoned his youngest son. The one who tried to be like him, who wanted to carve out a bright path from within the army: Tuoba Chunsun.

"Father." Tuoba Chunsun burst into the tent, travel-worn, his face still carrying a hint of paleness. He glanced at his father, then hurriedly lowered his head.

In reality, although he was arrogant and domineering outside, he felt both fear and respect when facing this Military God of Beiman who looked like a farmhand.

"Hmm." The Third in the World, Tuoba Pusa, nodded, his ancient and simple face showing no emotion: "I already know the matter. You mobilized the strength of several Xiti from the grasslands to encircle and annihilate Longshu, but ended up being schemed against by Murong Tonghuang, resulting in countless casualties, and both Duanboerhuihui and the Brocade-Clad Youth died."

"This child handled the matter poorly; I ask for Father's punishment," Tuoba Chunsun said.

"Indeed, it was handled poorly. Go and take one hundred and twenty military lashes," the Military God of Beiman, Tuoba Pusa, said calmly: "I only received a rough report; tell me the whole matter in detail."

"Yes." Upon hearing about the one hundred and twenty military lashes, the corners of Tuoba Chunsun's mouth twitched, but he felt a sense of relief.

Those one hundred and twenty military lashes were no ordinary lashes; they were administered by a Second-Rank Small Grandmaster using a Heavy Wood Staff, and they would show no mercy. After these one hundred and twenty lashes, he would likely have his backside shredded and be bedridden for several months.

But this way, it would also stop the wagging tongues, and he would not face more severe punishment.

Immediately, Tuoba Chunsun recounted everything that had happened over those three days.

Tuoba Pusa sat above, resting his chin on his hand, his brows occasionally revealing a look of contemplation.

"It is rumored that the Witchcraft Sect of the Southern Border possesses an art of disguise with five levels: Setting Seeds, Ventilating, Taking Root, Entering Divinity, and Reincarnation. Especially the latter two, which can even influence a person's physiognomy and Luck; those who have mastered this art are already few and far between."

"However, Murong Tonghuang does not seem to have used a disguise art. It seems that, just as the legends say, this person can influence a person's judgment of the mind in the dark; he is truly a terrifying opponent."

Soon, Tuoba Chunsun recounted everything that happened during those three days, including Yu Liancheng's one grab, one sword, and one sleeve, as well as the words left behind upon his departure and the two pats on the shoulder, omitting nothing.

"He said the gift is on you?"

Tuoba Pusa raised his head and looked sharply at the younger Tuoba.

The younger Tuoba nodded: "That is indeed what he said."

Tuoba Pusa hesitated for a moment, then suddenly his brows knit together. A fierce and cruel killing intent, condensed from the battlefield, leaked out and solidified, drilling into the younger Tuoba's body like invisible threads to investigate everything.

Suddenly, Tuoba Chunsun's expression froze, he let out a miserable scream, and collapsed with a boom.

His entire body began to change rapidly; in the blink of an eye, his once-strong muscles became withered, his bronze skin became full of wrinkles, and his dark hair turned gray and white, as if he had been drained of his vitality in an instant, aging several decades.

"Not good."

Tuoba Pusa's heart stirred, but it was too late to stop it.

Tuoba Chunsun clearly felt all his vitality surging toward his abdomen, condensing, and then transforming into a strand of Sword Qi, rampaging recklessly through the acupuncture points and meridians of his whole body. Only the sound of crackling explosions rang out incessantly; one acupuncture point after another shattered and exploded, blood gushing out and splattering everywhere.

Tuoba Chunsun clutched his throat, his body twisting; he opened his mouth and spat out a small sword, aging another few decades, his breath growing weaker.

If an ordinary person saw this step, they would likely be astonished to the extreme. But as the Third in the World, the knowledgeable Tuoba Pusa knew the reason.

The two pats Murong Tonghuang gave before leaving were clearly to leave a strand of Sword Qi inside Tuoba Chunsun's body. That Sword Qi was extremely special, and it was hidden without being released, lurking within his body, constantly taking root and spreading, absorbing his vitality and Qi and Blood.

And under the investigation of Tuoba Pusa's Qi, it finally triggered that strand of Sword Qi, which took Tuoba Chunsun's vitality and Qi and Blood and flew out.

Boom!!

A huge roar echoed through the entire military camp.

Then, everyone saw the Military God, Tuoba Pusa, fly horizontally out of the military camp.

However, unlike his usual farmhand attire, at this moment, the clothes on the upper half of Tuoba Pusa's body exploded, revealing knotted muscles. A vast and majestic Qi surged out, rushing straight into the sky; the whole person seemed to have transformed into a prehistoric beast, violent, domineering, and incomparably powerful.

Only then did Tuoba Pusa finally display the demeanor of the Third in the World.

He pressed his palms together, seemingly clamping a small sword between them. The muscles on his arms bulged like steel, and the ground beneath his feet exploded, yet he was still being pushed backward by the small sword.

In a few breaths, Tuoba Pusa had crossed a range of more than ten zhang, crashing through seven or eight tents. The ground shattered, leaving a deep, long trail.

But that strand of Sword Qi would not give up, its sharpness fully revealed, as if it wanted to break free from his palms.

After another moment of stalemate, this Sword Qi was, after all, merely an ownerless object, and without a continuous supply of True Qi to support it, under a roar from Tuoba Pusa that shook the nine heavens like thunder, he exerted force with both arms again, and the small sword finally shattered with a bang.

But Tuoba Pusa did not have a trace of joy; his face was as gloomy as water as he looked at the thin red mark scratched on his palm, from which trickles of blood flowed.

In the end, he was still injured.

As his thoughts shifted, the wound on his palm healed.

"Murong Tonghuang, I accept this war post. However, I won't be the only one attending the appointment." Tuoba Pusa's whole body was filled with astonishing fighting spirit.

……