Inside the training walls, the young recruits had finished their physical conditioning and lowered themselves into wooden tubs, letting the scalding medicinal baths work.
Chen Ji dried his hair and headed back to the courtyard with a bowl piled full of meat.
At the gate, the dark-robed young man was sitting on the threshold in an easy manner, bowl in hand, chopsticks working through a bowl of noodles.
Chen Jinyu stood nearby, voice quiet. “Isn’t it a bit plain, Commander Shen?”
“It’s fine.”
Shen Yi lifted a mouthful of noodles, then shifted slightly to make room for Chen Ji.
The taste was a little bland, honestly. But he wasn’t here for exceptional food — he was here for the feeling of it.
Chen Ji chewed through a mouthful of fatty meat and found this quietly amusing. Commander Shen had said he was cadging meals and borrowing the room, and had taken that completely literally — each day just eating and sleeping, entirely out of step with the atmosphere of the training grounds.
He still had no idea what the Commander’s actual role in the Division was.
All these days, and no one had come looking for him at all.
Under this unhurried life, the Commander’s mood had visibly eased. The cold expression from when he first arrived had given way to something that looked genuinely comfortable — almost enviable.
Then — the high walls that normally kept the outside world out were interrupted by an unusual noise.
A heavy sound of footsteps, and a procession of figures with a distinctly sharp, killing-edged presence moved quickly inside — like a dark cloud pressing in.
The Commanders handling new recruit training turned to look, and when they recognized the dress and markings on those approaching, every one of them went blank. Some forgot to step forward and greet them.
This dull, routine place barely saw Deputy Commanders come by. And now it had drawn a crowd of figures nobody ever normally caught a glimpse of — and arriving this quickly, this urgently, in numbers like this. It didn’t seem possible.
The entire training ground went completely silent.
Chen Ji’s mouth had fallen open mid-chew. He’d stopped moving.
“Commander Shen — what’s happening?”
Shen Yi slurped another mouthful of noodles, not even lifting his eyes.
“No idea.”
His knowledge of the Division’s workings, outside of killing demons, was probably no better than Chen Ji’s.
“Commander Shen, they’re coming over—”
Chen Jinyu had been swept by a number of cold, sharp gazes, and had gone rigid where she stood.
Thousands of new recruits didn’t dare breathe. They watched the procession move in perfect alignment toward the small courtyard in the distance.
When they reached it and spread into formation—
The old man in black-gleaming armor stepped forward and looked at the young man eating noodles with an expression that held something complicated.
The assembled personal attendant Deputy Commanders, expressions grave, took one step back in unison. Then went to one knee, both hands clasped and raised above their heads.
Together, in one voice:
“We greet the Demon Suppression General!“
The sound rolled like a great bell, ringing long through the sky.
“Hss—“
Chen Ji had never witnessed anything like this in his life. He felt like he was sitting on needles. He was on his feet and backing sideways in an instant.
Shen Yi swallowed the last mouthful of noodles and set down the bowl.
The moment he saw Old General Chen, he’d known his rest was over.
What was somewhat unexpected was that he’d only been a personal attendant Deputy Commander for a few dozen days, and apparently that had also changed.
He dusted off his clothing, stood, and clasped his hands.
“Shen Yi greets General Chen.”
“…”
Chen Qiankun drew a slow breath.
Whatever sense of ceremony had been intended for this moment had been worn down over the course of actually finding the man.
The entire Division compound had become a scramble — Aqian had even been pressed into using the Qi-Gazing Method — and this young man had avoided every search with the Turtle-Breath Method running the whole time. Inside Qingzhou city. Apparently he didn’t find it tiring.
The old general extended the black armor and the crimson cape, expression somewhere between resigned and amused.
“Take him inside and get it on him.”
Two personal attendant Deputy Commanders rose, took the heavy armor, and accompanied Shen Yi into the room — with the air of people making sure he didn’t vanish again the moment they looked away.
The siblings stood at a distance. Even being only slightly close to this gathering pressed something heavy against their chests — as if a hand had closed around both their hearts and was squeezing.
And right now, every one of these people was kneeling on one knee, eyes fixed on the dark-robed back disappearing into the building.
A long while later — the door opened again.
As the boots crossed the threshold, the dark-gleaming armor on the young man carried a faint, cold edge, setting off the height of the frame and making the presence somehow more severe and imposing than it had any right to be from someone who’d just been eating noodles in a doorway.
The crimson cape moved, framing the pale, clean-cut face and adding something faintly predatory to the whole picture.
Shen Yi gripped the arm guard, turned his wrist with visible discomfort.
“You’ll get used to it.” Chen Qiankun nodded with satisfaction.
The slightly listless young man from a moment ago seemed to have become an entirely different person. The figure that had fought its way through demons in blood — even appearing now with a composed expression, it produced a deep, instinctive wariness in everyone present.
“From this day, Shen Yi is Qingzhou’s thirteenth Demon Suppression General!”
The old general turned back, expression carrying an unusual severity.
In roughly half an incense stick’s time, this news would spread through all of Qingzhou city. Then further, until every corner of all twelve prefectures had heard it.
Across the ground, the expressions on countless faces went still. Breathing quickened.
They’d never thought they’d witness the birth of a Demon Suppression General with their own eyes. It was as if they’d stepped inside a legend, and the sensation was almost dreamlike.
“General Shen — had enough to eat?”
Chen Qiankun tilted a glance at him, something between a smile and otherwise.
“If nothing else is pressing, come with me and meet the General.”
“Alright.”
Shen Yi stepped forward, glanced at the siblings, and said in passing: “Heading out.”
Chen Ji swallowed. Even knowing that nothing Commander Shen did should surprise him anymore — seeing the black armor and red cape, the cold-edged authority of the young man now, was still a lot to process.
He didn’t know this kind of armor. But he knew what the title Demon Suppression General meant to Qingzhou.
The kind of existence that sheltered millions of ordinary people across an entire prefecture.
Both siblings watched the retreating figures until the procession had moved fully out of sight, cut off by the high walls.
When they finally looked back at each other, they found every other person on the training ground had been staring at them.
Expressions of total disbelief, still held in place.
“…”
Deep in the Division compound. A quiet, graceful side courtyard.
The residents had gathered unusually — not a common occurrence.
Jiang Yuanhua sat in the center of the courtyard. You Longtao stood beside him, relaying recent news about the movement of major demons outside Qingzhou’s borders.
Fang Heng and Bai Ziming were helping their grandmother prepare the evening meal.
And in the corner of the courtyard, Jiang Qiulan leaned against a large tree with arms folded, eyes even and still. At her feet, a collection of empty wine crocks.
“Is Martial Sister accumulating too much of the Mysterious Ice Seven-Kill Sword Intent?” You Longtao glanced at the crocks with some concern. Even knowing she needed the medicinal wine to drive out the cold, it wasn’t usually this much.
At that, something complicated moved across Jiang Yuanhua’s face.
It settled back quickly. He looked toward the courtyard gate.
“He’s here.”
With the words barely out — Chen Qiankun appeared at the entrance, gave a small nod in acknowledgment, and turned and left.
After the old general had gone, a black-armored young man stepped unhurried into the courtyard, clasped his hands toward the one unfamiliar face, and said without particular deference or anxiety:
“Shen Yi greets the General.”
(End of Chapter)