Ninety-six: A Game of Power (Part I)

Three days later.

With an astonishing presence, Yin Chan returned to the resistance organization accompanied by over a hundred burly men.

Ming Tian was stunned by the sight of so many hulking figures. The aura they exuded had undergone a complete transformation. Previously, while these men were muscular, they had always felt somewhat effeminate. Ming Tian still remembered the guy who had accidentally dropped his soap while bathing in the river a few days ago—he was a total sissy!

But now, it was different. Veins bulged across their muscles, and their hundred-plus faces wore an identical expression of murderous intent; even their eyes burned with a faint, blood-red light. In just three days, Yin Chan’s training had turned these men from gay-acting sissies into true warriors.

De Yi'ao walked past the men. Everyone stood perfectly still, maintaining a standard position of attention, as solid and immovable as rocks. This disciplined and formidable attitude even drew praise from De Yi'ao. Though he had visited Yin Chan’s training sessions several times over the past few days—aside from Ming Tian—and was well aware of the soldiers' status, seeing them now, Ming Tian suspected that the results had exceeded even De Yi'ao’s expectations.

*Is this… this brainwashing style of training really so effective?* Ming Tian’s mouth twitched.

These men were never weak to begin with. When Ming Tian first encountered Zhao Yu outside the city, he had realized that their speed and strength were on par with professional modern soldiers. When De Yi'ao said they couldn't defeat the Yangzhou soldiers, he didn't mean their combat prowess was low; in fact, their individual combat strength was more than double that of an ordinary ancient soldier.

However, war is about coordination. The resistance organization was, after all, an amateur indigenous group. Compared to the professional Yangzhou soldiers, their coordination was a complete mess. When facing an enemy force larger than their own, they easily fell into disarray, which drastically reduced their combat effectiveness.

To put it simply: if pilot skills were equal, a single Apollo fighter could dominate a MiG like a father disciplining a son. But if a hundred Apollos fought a hundred MiGs, the MiGs would turn the tables and dominate the Apollos like a grandfather disciplining a grandson. Warfare and individual combat were worlds apart.

Yin Chan’s training had taken these two hundred scattered individuals and forged them into a high-tensile nylon rope, increasing their combat effectiveness exponentially.

"Excellent, truly excellent," De Yi'ao remarked, appearing quite satisfied.

Zhao Yu hopped over to his side, excited, and smiled as if asking for credit. "Brother De, how about that? I told you that relying on the Prince Consort was the right choice, didn't I?" Her face flushed, clearly anticipating a head pat from De Yi'ao.

However, contrary to expectations, De Yi'ao ignored her. Instead, he looked toward An Luo, who was busy training Feng Mowang.

"Brother An Luo! Could you come over and give me a hand?"

An Luo put down his blade and trotted over. "What do you need?"

De Yi'ao smiled slightly and beckoned one of the burly men forward. "Brother An Luo, could you test the strength of my soldiers now?"

"Oh, sure." An Luo still looked a bit dim-witted.

The soldier, facing An Luo—who was far stronger than him—would have been pale with fear three days ago. But now, he stood firm. Not only that, he dared to glare fiercely at An Luo. Even An Luo was taken aback, silently admiring the effectiveness of Yin Chan’s training.

"Hmph, big deal." Ignored by De Yi'ao, Zhao Yu pouted and sat down on the steps nearby, feeling dejected.

De Yi'ao, however, watched the upcoming duel with a look of fanatical intensity.

*Something isn't right.* Watching the unusually excited De Yi'ao, Ming Tian instinctively felt a sense of dissonance.

The duel began!

The burly man roared like an old ox and charged straight at An Luo. He looked like a mad dog off its leash, ready to fight to the death. Regardless of his actual combat power, the sheer bloodlust in his aura made even An Luo pause for a moment.

But no matter how strong the aura, it was useless without the strength to back it up. An Luo took a step back, lowered his center of gravity, and at the exact moment the man closed in, he swerved his body and hooked the man’s neck with one arm. A knee to the abdomen and an elbow to the back sent the man rolling his eyes. An Luo then used his waist strength to hurl the man away like a sack of potatoes.

With a loud crash, the resting mat was smashed to pieces by the impact. It took less than five seconds; An Luo had won decisively.

Seeing this, De Yi'ao clapped his hands. "Impressive, impressive! Brother An Luo, as expected of a Chiliarch, you are truly formidable."

Praised, An Luo chuckled bashfully, murmuring that he was flattered.

"Brother An Luo, how many of them do you think you could take on at once?" De Yi'ao asked again.

An Luo thought for a moment. "At this level, I could probably take six. Why?"

A strange smile crept onto De Yi'ao's face. He glanced at the soldier who had just been thrown; despite being winded, the man relied on sheer willpower to force himself up and return to his formation.

Facing the hundred-plus men, De Yi'ao smiled and shouted, "I ask you, who do you pledge your loyalty to—the Prince Consort or me?!"

*Wait, that question…* Ming Tian felt something was wrong, but thinking it might just be his imagination, he didn't react too strongly.

"We pledge our lives to the organization!" the men roared in unison. The sound was deafening, a truly spectacular sight.

De Yi'ao nodded, satisfied with the definitive answer.

"You, you, and you—the three of you, spar with Brother An Luo." De Yi'ao pointed casually at three men. They marched out in perfect step.

The second round began.

Facing three men this time, An Luo, who had just claimed he could take six, panicked. The three men communicated without a word, moving to different directions as if sharing a single mind, then charged at An Luo simultaneously.

Caught off guard by the attacks coming from three sides, An Luo froze. He kicked and countered with an elbow, taking down two in an instant, but he was still human—he couldn't handle simultaneous attacks from three directions.

The third soldier grabbed An Luo from behind. Though An Luo was strong, his weight remained the same. The soldier let out a roar, veins popping on his forehead from the exertion, and actually lifted An Luo clean off the ground.

"Oh no!"

Losing his balance, An Luo struggled, but it was too late! The two soldiers who had been knocked down lunged forward again. An Luo managed to kick one away, but he was tackled by the one from behind. Nearly two hundred pounds of weight slammed into him, pinning him to the ground.

Without giving him a chance to react, the two soldiers grabbed his arms and locked them in a reverse grip. An Luo was instantly immobilized. The last soldier ensured their success by grabbing An Luo’s legs and pinning them to his waist.

Now, no matter how skilled An Luo was, he was like a turtle pinned to the ground, unable to move.

Ming Tian wasn't overly shocked by this. It was true that without coordination, An Luo could handle six men, but when people worked in tight coordination, the resulting power was not simply 1+1=2. Working together, An Luo couldn't even handle three.

These men, having undergone Yin Chan’s futuristic, hellish training, had shed their unnecessary emotions. Regardless of their individual combat prowess, it was undeniable that their coordination was now on par with modern soldiers!

Looking at the usually quiet Yin Chan, Ming Tian couldn't help but feel admiration. This gender-swapped transmigrator was truly full of surprises. It was a good thing she was his teammate.

"U-um… brothers, can you let go now?" Having been pinned for too long, An Luo’s arms were sore, and he laughed, asking them to release him.

However, without an order from De Yi'ao, the men didn't budge an inch.

De Yi'ao watched the scene, but instead of giving the order to release him, he turned to Ming Tian. "I never expected the Prince Consort to be not only brilliant but also to have such powerful subordinates. It truly makes me, De, quite envious."

*Cut the crap.* Ming Tian boredly picked his nose. "Tch, what’s the big deal? If I teach them combat techniques, these guys could definitely take An Luo one-on-one."

Upon hearing this, De Yi'ao wore a disturbing smile. Ming Tian had felt that this guy’s demeanor was off since earlier, and now that smile made the abnormality even more apparent.

After a long silence, the usually humble eyes of De Yi'ao revealed a sliver of coldness.

"So that’s how it is. Truly impressive…" He paused, his hand moving toward the hilt of the blade at his waist. "As expected of a… transmigrator."

*Transmigrator? What… what did he just say?*

*Shing!* The blade left its sheath. Before Ming Tian could react, the edge was mere millimeters from his neck. He never could have anticipated this sudden threat.

The courtesy and humility on De Yi'ao’s face were gone, replaced by a fanatical, pathological grin.

"Take down Ming Tian and his group! If they dare to resist, break their limbs, but make sure not to kill them…" Seeing the fanatical look in De Yi'ao’s eyes, Ming Tian realized things had gone horribly wrong.

"If the Princess refuses to cooperate, these people might still be useful."

*This kid?! He’s betraying me? Why?!!!*