“City registration. Black Tiger Camp. Yang Guanfeng. Han Wang.”

After completing the formalities at the city gate, the soldier captain reported to his superiors and escorted the two individuals into Wang Hai City. They were settled at an assigned inn.

The entry documents clearly stated their purpose – recalled by imperial decree from frontline duty, required to report to the Immortal Patrol Office the next morning.

“The journey’s been tiring. Rest well today, sirs. I’ll return at dawn tomorrow.”

“Our thanks.”

“Duty calls.”

The captain bowed out of the stone chamber. Twin stone doors ground shut behind him.

Yang Guanfeng sat on the bedstead while Han Wang remained standing. Silence stretched between them.

“Master… uncomfortable with the quiet?” Han Wang finally rasped.

“Aye.”

Yang Guanfeng’s lips twitched in approximation of a smile. “No war drums. No bloodstink. No battle cries ringing through air. Feels wrong.”

“Same here.”

Han Wang’s gaze dropped to his missing left arm. The hollow sleeve swayed slightly.

Silence reclaimed the stone room.

As peace settled, Yang Guanfeng’s thoughts drifted to their departure decade past. He’d told Yang Lingqing they were just “going out for long work” – never imagining those casual words would shackle them to the eastern border for ten full years.

“Remember your first battle?” Yang Guanfeng suddenly chuckled. “Had to drag you from corpse pile. Legs turned to noodles – carried you back like sack of grain.”

A rare flush crept up Han Wang’s scarred neck. The current feared “Soul-Hook Leg” of Black Tiger Camp shifted awkwardly.

“Master spares no mercy even in peace.”

Yang Guanfeng’s laughter boomed through the chamber. New recruits trembling before Han Wang’s glare would never believe this lethal warrior once soiled himself mid-battle.

Ten years changes men.

They’d survived the meatgrinder border through mutual salvation. Han Wang’s arm was lost dragging Yang Guanfeng from certain death. The scar splitting Yang Guanfeng’s cheek came from intercepting a blade meant for Han Wang’s throat.

Master and servant? More like blood-sworn brothers forged through a decade of shared hell.

Han Wang pondered for a moment and asked, “Master, why do you think the Immortal Patrol Office suddenly summoned us back to the city?”

During their Ten Years on the front lines, they had only returned to Wang Hai City twice before, both times to celebrate major victories.

This marked the first instance they’d been individually recalled from camp while battles still raged.

“The thoughts of higher-ups remain beyond our comprehension,” Yang Guanfeng said in a low voice, having contemplated this matter throughout their journey. “But I suspect it relates to Yang Family affairs.”

In terms of cultivation realm and combat strength, neither he nor Han Wang were inferior – yet neither ranked among the eastern border’s elite.

No matter how they considered it, their special summons ultimately pointed back to their clan’s influence.

Reality aligned closely with Yang Guanfeng’s assumptions.

As the two settled into Wang Hai City lodgings, Immortal Patrol Office leader Guo Jiming stood in a dim chamber presenting documents to an official-robed figure.

The papers detailed thirty-six battlefield achievements by Yang Guanfeng and Han Wang.

“Which faction sponsors these two?” the official inquired after reviewing the records.

Guo Jiming bowed. “The He Family recommended them, sir.”

“Curious. How do two Gathering Qi cultivators connect to the He Family?”

“Allow me to explain,” Guo Jiming continued. “Yang Guanfeng hails from Wangyue, formerly leading his own small family. When conscripted here ten years back, he brought servant Han Wang.”

“During our sect conflict years ago, though weak, the Yang Family’s youths displayed remarkable courage. They completed the imperial decree mission despite heavy casualties, even slaying a Solitary Moon Mountain direct disciple in the treasure land! This made them one of two Gathering Qi forces remaining under Wangyue’s rule post-purge.”

“Afterwards, the He Family designated them as noble clan candidates under He Shenglai’s supervision.”

The official nodded. “An intriguing tale! Continue.”

“Three years ago, Yang Guanfeng received rewards for reaching seventh-level. Last month he attained Eighth Level through battlefield breakthrough during a Black Tiger Camp ambush – killing two enemy cultivators and maiming another while surrounded.”

“Battlefield breakthroughs remain rare inland but occur several times yearly at the front. Ten years’ experience finally bore fruit for him.”

“Splendid!” The official beamed. “Adequate loyalty, rich experience, solid strength – perfect candidate for guard duty!”

“Confirm these two. Brief them tomorrow while I consult His Highness.”

The next morning found them following soldiers to Wang Hai City’s western Immortal Patrol Office. Two cultivators escorted them upstairs.

Reaching the top floor, Yang Guanfeng sensed gravity in the situation. Three Condensing Essence cultivators watched them enter – Guo Jiming flanked by imperial capital officials.

Yang Guanfeng stood unwavering under their scrutiny. Behind him, Han Wang kept his gaze lowered without flinching.

Two blood oath altars stood central, flanked by elixir boxes.

“Songshan Yang Family’s Yang Guanfeng greets the lords.”

“House servant Han Wang greets the lords.”

Their simple hand-clasp salute sufficed – frontliners needed not bow per dynasty law.

“We’ve urgent business requiring loyal men,” Guo Jiming declared. “Succeed, and rewards will follow. First, take elixirs and swear blood oaths.”

Yang Guanfeng stepped forward without hesitation. Swallowing the pill, he drew a ritual blade across his palm and pledged eternal fealty to the dynasty.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep