The sentinels, who had already undergone a month of military training drills, had learned to consciously line up according to height.
The sentinel with a stern expression stood tall in a pitch-black military uniform. The silver epaulets reflected a cold metallic sheen as he took his position.
From the logo on the epaulets, one could easily recognize the military rank. This was Lieutenant General Wei Zhuo, once as renowned as He Botian.
Jia Jin swallowed hard, his body subconsciously reacting with reverence toward the strong.
As for why he was “once” removed, it was because one of the famous Twin Stars had now permanently fallen.
Just like Yan Ji had said, once a person died, they couldn’t crawl back. Although the words were crude, the logic was sound. The dead could not be resurrected.
The Empire had permanently lost a lieutenant general with distinguished military merits, leaving only one of the Sentinel Twin Stars behind.
Jia Jin was born in the Imperial City. Though his family wasn’t wealthy, growing up in the heart of the Safe Zone, at the very core of the Empire, he had heard many rumors that never spread beyond the capital.
The military clearly intended to let Wei Zhuo accumulate more seniority, but in no more than two years, his merits would be sufficient for promotion to general.
Such a promotion speed was beyond the reach of ordinary sentinels.
Jia Jin thought, how old was Officer Wei Zhuo anyway? At most five years older than them.
Soon, there would be a general under thirty.
Of course, such military rank came through countless battles and brushes with death, but such a young general was unprecedented in the Empire’s history.
However, a year ago, Jia Jin had originally thought this general would be He Botian.
Everyone around him thought so too.
The Twin Stars were always compared together. They were similar in age, their combat abilities were on par, and aside from differing backgrounds, their records were equally outstanding. Yet everyone assumed that, in the long run, He Botian would surpass.
No sentinel would doubt the importance of a guide, a role crucial to their survival.
He Botian was not only partnered with a guide but this guide also possessed a rare 3S-level mental power, a rarity in the White Tower over centuries.
The word “lucky” was no longer enough to encompass He Botian’s life.
The life of a winner collapsed at the age of twenty-three, dissolving into the spore dust floating in the dark skies of the Folded Zone.
Jia Jin noticed Wei Zhuo’s gaze sweeping over and subconsciously straightened, ensuring his posture could not be faulted.
But he quickly realized Wei Zhuo wasn’t looking at him, but at the young sentinel standing at the head of the line beside him.
Their gazes met in the air, as if blades clashing, and Jia Jin wasn’t sure if he had sensed the tension in the air.
‘Damn it!’
Jia Jin suddenly remembered that when Wei Zhuo entered, he and Yan Ji had been talking.
Officer Wei Zhuo was a friend of the Major General. Yan Ji had just been speaking nonsense…Jia Jin silently broke out in cold sweat on his behalf.
But in the blink of an eye, Wei Zhuo casually shifted his gaze and faced the young sentinels in the hall. “I don’t intend to waste words reasoning with you.”
Wei Zhuo’s expression was indifferent. “Just tell me your impression of the Folded Zone.”
A sentinel in the middle raised his hand. “Reporting, sir!”
Wei Zhuo’s gaze passed over the crowd and landed on him.
That sentinel answered, “Dangerous?”
Wei Zhuo gave a simple nod.
With the first student speaking, others followed one after another.
“Thrilling.”
“Fighting and killing?”
“Establishing military merit!”
“Rank! Glory! The people’s admiration!”
These sentinel students, who had not yet experienced the Folded Zone, spoke with fervor and passion, eager to take up arms and fight the monsters within the Folded Zone, carving a path through blood and fire.
In the Empire’s rigorous education for sentinels, even death was seen as the ultimate glory.
Then suddenly, a low voice interrupted, “Um… mental guidance.”
Yan Ji frowned slightly and tilted his head, his gaze subtly searching for the speaker.
It was a boy with little presence, neither tall nor short among the sentinels, with bangs long untrimmed, giving him a gloomy demeanor.
Wei Zhuo’s voice dropped, “What do you mean?”
The somewhat gloomy sentinel stammered, “With military merit, you can exchange for chances at mental guidance… and you can come into contact with guides. Seniors say… mental guidance feels really good…”
Though he spoke softly, the keen hearing inherent to sentinels ensured everyone in the large training hall heard him clearly.
Some already understood the implication behind his words, and small bursts of laughter arose.
Yan Ji narrowed his phoenix eyes, his eyes darkening with cold contempt as he stared at that sentinel.
Then, before anyone could react and restrain themselves, every sentinel who had just laughed aloud was singled out by Wei Zhuo.
Wei Zhuo’s face showed no expression, but the natural pressure exuded by a high-level sentinel rendered others speechless.
“Since this is a combat class, let’s begin with your first simulation experience.”
The main hall of the training center was a sparring ground for sentinels, vast and spacious. The simulation facilities for the Folded Zone environment were in a separate wing, divided into various training rooms.
Each training room housed a differing number of simulation pods, with environments linked within the same room, meaning a team entered the same simulated Folded Zone environment together. Hence, rooms varied in size, with smaller ones for individual training and larger ones for teams of dozens of people.
The diversity of training rooms met various teaching and practice needs. Students at the military academy could log into the system to reserve training time.
The gloomy sentinel who spoke first and the others who laughed were ten in total.
A medium-sized training room sufficed.
Just as they were about to lie in the simulation pods, Yan Ji suddenly stepped out from the ranks. “Reporting, sir.”
He stood at the head of the line, but when moving from the main hall to the separate rooms, the formation had turned, so he stepped from the rear to the front, calmly saying, “I’d like to experience simulated combat as well.”
Wei Zhuo showed no emotion. “Very well.”
……
At first, no one took the first simulation seriously.
They had just enrolled. They thought even if Lieutenant General Wei Zhuo wanted to establish authority, he wouldn’t make things too difficult.
However, when the combat scenario inside the simulation pods was broadcast on the large screen for all sentinels present to observe, within minutes, their expressions became solemn.
The principle behind the simulation pods wasn’t complicated.
The military used memories, recordings, and videos from frontline sentinels to recreate a virtual Folded Zone environment one-to-one, much like the holographic game pods in 21st-century sci-fi films.
Even though the environment was virtual, the pain experienced by sentinels inside was very real. Although their bodies suffered no actual harm, the pods connected to their pain nerves, producing synchronous pain sensations.
When pain exceeded human limits, such as limb severance or fatal injuries, the pods would automatically disconnect and eject the user for safety.
Some sentinels watching the combat projections outside couldn’t bear to watch further.
Those with weaker psychological tolerance had already grabbed plastic bags and begun vomiting.
The Dark Folded Zone.
Trees towered sky-high, their canopies in layer upon layer, the sunlight barely penetrating, casting everything in a dark, blood-red hue. Skulls hung from branches, chilling the heart, and prolonged exposure weighed heavily on the spirit.
The humid air was thick with countless spores and dust, like viruses trying to invade sentinels’ nasal cavities.
Worse still were the endless, unkillable jungle swarms.
These creatures had mutated beyond recognition as insects, grotesque assemblages of sharp mandibles, huge compound eyes, and writhing flesh.
Their tarsal claws slashed like scythes, leaving countless afterimages as they attacked the sentinels.
One sentinel’s arm was torn open mid-battle, and the moment blood spurted, the swarm let out a deafening screech.
For the hypersensitive senses of sentinels, it was torture.
Flocks of mutated black crows circled overhead, their feathers blotting out the sky, ever ready to peck out a sentinel’s eyes with sharp beaks.
They realized they were still only at the rainforest’s edge, far from its central zone.
Yet even the outskirts were this terrifying.
All the mental bodies of the eleven sentinels were fierce predators; snow leopards, gray wolves, golden eagles, hyenas…all were indisputable hunters of nature.
Even so, within ten minutes, two sentinels suffered fatal injuries in the simulation and were forcibly disconnected.
In just half an hour, only the rumored 3S combat-level sentinel remained in the rainforest.
With no firearms available, Yan Ji had chosen a curved blade from the start. His close combat still lacked any formal technique, so he relied solely on instinct and physical reflexes for blocking, rolling, and countering.
After holding out for forty minutes, his combat uniform was visibly torn in various places, with wounds both large and small.
Yan Ji rolled twice to dodge a fatal blow, then quickly sprang up again, his chest heaving with deep breaths from the exertion.
He and his mental body clearly weren’t cooperative partners.
The gray wolf fought independently from him, and due to their lack of coordination, a giant mantis nearly half a person’s height seized the chance and drove its scythe-like tarsal claw into the gray wolf’s right hind leg.
In the next moment, Yan Ji decapitated the mantis.
Injuries to the mental body are synchronized with the sentinel.
So rather than prolonged pain, Yan Ji decisively used his curved blade to gouge the deeply embedded claw from the gray wolf’s flesh and blood! Just watching it made the sentinels outside the field draw sharp breaths.
The previously ejected sentinels, forced out by the simulation pod due to pain, came out drenched in cold sweat.
As soon as they stepped out, some collapsed to their knees with weakened legs.
Yan Ji lasted an hour before also receiving a fatal injury, causing the simulation pod to automatically disconnect.
Cold sweat soaked through his uniform, his bangs stuck to his skin, and he staggered out in a mess.
The hellish scenes of the Folded Zone still lingered before his eyes.
Yan Ji remembered with terrifying clarity the moment his heart was pierced and he died.
Wei Zhuo, who had remained silent until now, asked, “What level do you all think that Folded Zone just now was?”
A barely-conscious sentinel responded, “S-level? Unknown level? Blocked zone?”
Their guesses climbed higher and higher.
Wei Zhuo said coldly, “Zone 122…only A-level.”
“But the price of its purge was the life of one 3S-level sentinel and one A-level sentinel.”
The sentinel with the silver epaulets stood before them all like a cold blade drawn out of its sheath.
“This is your first lesson.”
“Always maintain awe toward the Folded Zone.”
“Don’t make brainless, heroic sacrifices unless absolutely necessary.”
Wei Zhuo swept his gaze across them. “Your death will only bring permanent pain to the living.”
Yan Ji suddenly understood who that sacrificed 3S-level sentinel was.
And who the living left behind was.
……
Xin Hexue received a message from Wei Zhuo.
He had originally reached out to ask whether Wei Zhuo needed a mental guidance session arranged soon.
But the other party seemed to be deliberately or unintentionally avoiding him.
This change seemed to have started after they left the research institute last time.
[Wei Zhuo: I have a mission in three days.]
[Wei Zhuo: As for mental guidance, I’ll submit a new request when I’m back.]
[Wei Zhuo: If anything happens and I’m not around, contact Kuike.]
[Xin Hexue: What mission? Is the urgency level that high?]
Wei Zhuo hadn’t been back for long since his last deployment. There should’ve been a period of rest.
Besides, Wei Zhuo had recently been invited to take an instructor position at the Joint Military Academy.
[Wei Zhuo: It’s related to the Folded Zone in the Northern Frontier.]
[Wei Zhuo: The command center discovered that all Folded Zones visible in satellite 3D scans are experiencing synchronized high-intensity energy fluctuations.]
[Wei Zhuo: Sentinels from the northern watchtower reported that within the Folded Zones on either side of the railway, they found mutated species of tropical rainforest flora and fauna.]
That made no sense at all.
The Northern Frontier belonged to a high-latitude subarctic zone, with some areas already resembling arctic landscapes.
Xin Hexue had a bad feeling.
He replied with only one message.
[Xin Hexue: Are you heading to the Northern Frontier again this time? Stay safe. Tell me about it when you’re back.]
He was still in the library of the Joint Military Academy.
It was not to look up any books, just casually fishing.
Xin Hexue put away his communicator. When he heard footsteps nearby, his peripheral vision swept over and then calmly returned.
He stood on tiptoe, reaching for a book on the highest shelf.
He was struggling.
A large hand reached from behind and to the side, the arm muscular and defined. “This one?”
Xin Hexue nodded. After the other person took it down for him, he accepted the book, turned around, and revealed a perfectly timed look of surprise. “What a coincidence.”
Yan Ji cleared his throat. “Yes, Teacher. Ahem, what a coincidence?”
Xin Hexue smiled gently.
‘Coincidence?’
Did Yan Ji think he didn’t notice him staring from the corner for ten minutes?
Xin Hexue: “Don’t you have class this afternoon?”
Most students had classes during this time slot, and the second floor of the library was practically empty.
Yan Ji: “No.”
He touched his neck and shamelessly said, “When I don’t have class, I like to read to enrich myself.”
Xin Hexue glanced at him and kindly reminded, “Your book seems to be upside down.”
Yan Ji glanced down at the book he was holding. It was originally just a prop to look the part, and he hastily flipped it to the right side up.
He forced himself to act composed. “Mm. I was trying to look at problems from a different perspective. A post-battle review.”
Xin Hexue: “…”
What could possibly rival the male protagonist’s thick skin?
He smiled faintly, “Are you really that interested in botany?”
Yan Ji looked at the book’s cover: “A Hundred Thousand Curious Plants You Don’t Know (Youth Edition)”.
His face stiffened slightly, and he nodded. “…Yes.”
He was very sure he made Xin Hexue laugh.
Fine, even if he looked like a fool, the outcome was good.
He casually flipped to a page and pointed to one of the plants in the book. “This one looks interesting.”
Xin Hexue tilted his head. “Dryas?”
A plant from the Rosaceae family that grows in alpine regions, distributed within the Arctic Circle, a symbol of cold climates.
The reason Xin Hexue remembered this white-petaled, yellow-stamen creeping shrub was because he had seen it in He Botian’s mental landscape.
Next to the image, under the section titled “Language Of Flowers”, were the words: “Sincerity and simplicity” and “Always hold on to hope.”
“A very romantic flower.”
Xin Hexue said to Yan Ji, “But this plant can no longer be found. All its habitats have been swallowed by the Folded Zone.”
Yan Ji knew nothing about this.
What did he know about flowers or grass?
But Xin Hexue clearly seemed to like it.
Was there any way to get it? It seemed like the only option was to enter the Folded Zone.
Yan Ji suddenly asked, “Is there a way for a non-graduated sentinel to join Folded Zone missions in advance?”
Xin Hexue thought for a moment. “You can do what they did. Submit applications to both the academy and the military. If you pass the assessment, you can join the reserve legion.”
Yan Ji caught on quickly. “They?”
Xin Hexue said, “Wei Zhuo and…”
Yan Ji raised an eyebrow and swiftly added, “He Botian?”
Xin Hexue lowered his lashes. “…Mm.”
Yan Ji recalled what he had learned.
Since leaving the training room last time, he had been looking into the story behind Folded Zone 122.
Because He Botian, the core of the Honeysuckle Squad, lost control in the Folded Zone and went berserk, the military guide, Xin Hexue, had no choice but to shoot him.
And before that mission, Xin Hexue and He Botian had only been engaged for a month.
Yan Ji remembered what Wei Zhuo had said: “Don’t make brainless, heroic sacrifices unless absolutely necessary. Your death will only bring permanent pain to the living.”
He looked at the young guide’s pale face.
It was like he was back in the rainforest scene of the simulation pod.
Yan Ji realized he was still far too lacking. He couldn’t compare to Wei Zhuo, let alone He Botian.
If even those two accomplished sentinels could fall in the Folded Zone…
Yan Ji realized he needed more training.
Only by becoming strong enough could he surpass He Botian.
If it were him, he would never bring harm to Xin Hexue.
The wound near his cheekbone was suddenly touched by a soft fingertip.
Yan Ji grimaced, “Hss…”
Xin Hexue looked curious. “How did that happen?”
Yan Ji said in a low voice, “Combat class. I sparred a little with Officer Wei.”
“He probably appreciates my talent and didn’t hold back. It’s fine, I know he meant well.”
From his tone, Xin Hexue could hear a bit of “biluochun” tea flavor.
*Biluochun is a type of green tea.
Xin Hexue didn’t expose him. “Do you have any other wounds? I can help you treat them.”
The sentinel before him obviously thought that a young man’s physique would heal quickly on its own, so he hadn’t done any proper treatment on his injuries.
Or perhaps, he deliberately showed up like this in front of Xin Hexue.
The sentinel beside him seemed to be suppressing his excitement. If tails had form, Xin Hexue felt he would be able to see it wagging at helicopter rotor speed.
When Yan Ji returned the youth-edition book to the shelf, Xin Hexue suddenly remembered something.
A brown-haired sentinel had told him once.
The other language of flowers of “Dryas” was: No matter when, don’t forget there’s still someone waiting for you.
Xin Hexue’s right eyelid twitched uncontrollably.
