Those Who Conquer the Formation Die

The fog was heavy and oppressive.

It's like a pot lid covering everyone and steaming them in the Gobi Desert.

The eerie footsteps were synchronized, each one pressing down on the next, emerging from the fog.

"Quiet. Do not act rashly if you encounter any abnormalities in the evil realm. Wait for my orders."

At Zhang Shilang's command, the noisy crowd immediately fell silent.

The footsteps were still approaching.

Wu Huaiyi, holding the booklet, stood behind Vice Minister Zhang. He looked down and saw a footprint on the hard ground.

Very deep.

It was as if someone wearing old military boots stepped in front of him, the tread pattern on the sole of the boot clearly imprinted.

But there was no one there.

The second footprint followed, then the third, and the fourth.

The footprints emerged from the gray fog, getting closer inch by inch.

When faced with the unknown, some people's instincts will always prevail over their reason.

There was a young border soldier in the group. As he watched the row of footprints coming toward him, he swallowed hard twice, but in the end, he couldn't help himself and took a half step back.

Only half a step.

A sigh came from within the fog.

"Disorder the formation, slay!"

The young border soldier's chest armor plate caved in suddenly, and he was sent flying backward, his back slamming into a wooden stake. When he landed, his neck was already crooked.

Without warning, without any fluctuation of vital energy, and with no one daring to help, even Vice Minister Zhang couldn't see who made the move.

An official from the Imperial Observatory held his trembling legs with his hands: "Don't move, don't move..."

The team didn't even dare to breathe loudly; no one wanted to die for no reason.

"Da, da, da."

The unseen procession did not bypass them; their footsteps fell one after another, and the leading footprints gradually drew closer to the procession.

"Go!" A bad premonition rose in Zhang Shilang's heart. He shouted and took the first step.

The adjutant reacted the fastest, taking a step forward, and several veteran border soldiers also moved immediately. However, many others were still stunned by the earlier phrase "disorderly formation," their minds not yet clear, and they remained standing still.

The next moment, a sound came from the fog again.

"Those who obstruct his advance shall be executed."

As soon as the voice fell, those who hadn't moved leaned back simultaneously.

His shoulder bones, sternum, and bridge of the nose all collapsed down, as if a whole row of soldiers had trampled over him, and blood gushed from his seven orifices, staining the earth crimson.

The crowd erupted.

Some people dodged to the left, some retreated to the right, and others subconsciously squeezed towards Zhang Shilang's side. As their footsteps became disordered, the unseen sound of boots around them immediately became louder.

"Leave the army, behead."

The two men seeking the Ashes had just stepped out when they were suddenly swept across the waist by an invisible military knife, their bodies snapped in two, and they fell to the ground, motionless.

A border soldier ran in the opposite direction of the footsteps, but after only three steps, he was dragged into the fog by something unseen. Before he could even finish his scream, only his two boots remained on the ground.

Wu Huaiyi's fingers trembled inside his sleeves.

In his life, he had seen dead cases, demonic corpses, and beheadings on the execution ground, but the death before him was a case of the crime clearly stated, yet the death remained unclear.

"Disorderly formation, obstructed advance, desertion..."

The lieutenant general noticed something amiss: "These are all military laws!"

After hearing this, Vice Minister Zhang nodded, his voice drowning out all the other breaths.

"Follow the rules! Don't panic! Whoever figurees out the cause of death, speak up! Anyone who's even a second too slow will die!"

After hearing this, Wu Huaiyi began to think seriously, and before he knew it, he was about to overlap with a footprint.

A rough hand suddenly grabbed him by the back of his collar.

"Don't grab my foot."

The one speaking was Shi Laoqi.

Wu Huaiyi turned around and heard Shi Laoqi counting one number after another.

"One, two."

"One, two."

"This is... a patrol march?!"

Wu Huaiyi immediately looked down to examine the newly left footprints.

really.

The front foot lands, the back heel follows, the left foot presses on the same line, and the right foot shifts outward by half an inch. This is exactly how the night patrol team in the old camp walked. However, there were too many footprints, and the panic of the living people disrupted the rhythm, making it seem chaotic.

Other teams also noticed this and shouted, "Sir, these unseen things are patrolling the camp!"

The adjutant slapped his forehead: "That's right! It's the patrol march, changing every two steps. The night patrol soldiers walk on the outer circle, and anyone who encounters them must give way and walk alongside them; they must not rush past the ranks!"

Upon hearing this, Vice Minister Zhang immediately decided: "Don't treat yourselves as outsiders, just treat us as members of their team."

"From now on, follow me."

He stood at the very front of the line, with footprints forming around him. The entire City Destroyer Realm cultivator focused their attention and followed his steps.

"If I fall, you fall."

"No grabbing, no slowing down, no dodging to the left or right."

If you fall, get up by yourself and don't pull others down.

Shi Laoqi was the first to catch up, silently clapping to himself: "One, two, one, two."

Wu Huaiyi stared intently at the heel of Zhang Shilang's boot, and as soon as the other man put his foot down, Wu Huaiyi immediately followed suit.

A group of people were forced to follow the footprints and walk forward, as if they had truly become part of the patrol team.

Wu Huaiyi clearly heard the sound of armor plates rubbing together on his left side, and someone breathing beside him. The warm breath landed on his neck, and goosebumps instantly rose on his skin.

There was no one around.

The procession moved forward slowly. Although no more people died, the atmosphere was extremely oppressive. Everyone was afraid to speak, fearing that another "cacophony" might suddenly appear out of the fog and their heads would fall to the ground.

After walking like this for an unknown amount of time, some people couldn't hold on any longer.

It was that old Taoist priest from the Imperial Observatory. He had spent too much of his energy on the compass calculations earlier, and then he was terrified by the fire. Now, he was focusing all his attention on the steps, but his mental energy was gradually running out. His breathing became more and more disordered, and his feet went weak, slowing him down by half a beat.

Then the sound came from the fog.

"Unauthorized departure will result in execution."

Deng Daoguan was jerked backward as if someone had grabbed his belt and dragged him to the back of the line.

A young Taoist priest standing nearby changed his expression and reached out to pull him away.

Vice Minister Zhang shouted sternly, "Stop pulling!"

late.

The young Taoist priest's hand had already touched Deng's sleeve, and his body also shifted half a step to the side.

"Disobey orders, behead!"

The two fell into the fog one after the other, without screaming or splashing a drop of water.

No one in the group dared to turn back or fall behind. After walking a while longer, a dark red light shone through the gray fog.

The endless white military camps came into view once again.

They were closer than before, the tent flaps were half open, and the edges of the tent fabric were gray, as if they had been buried underground for many years and then dug up overnight and re-stitched here.

Wu Huaiyi didn't want to go, but he dared not lose his footing.

The group, following an unseen patrol, was forced to stop in front of the first row of white tents.

The horn sounded again.

"Waaah."

This time it was shorter, like the end of a patrol and returning to the unit to report.

The bugle call ended in the fog.

The military order was given.

"After patrolling the camp, return to your tent."

Everyone looked at the half-open tent door in front of them.

Vice Minister Zhang frowned, then said, "Don't disobey, we'll go in too."

The remaining twenty-four men huddled together as they entered the military camp.

The tents on both sides had their curtains open, and it was pitch black inside, but you could hear voices.

Some people were laughing and cursing, some were removing their armor, and some were tapping the edge of the pot with wooden spoons. After two loud thuds, the aroma of boiling millet wafted out.

It's hot and smells good.

It looks a lot like a barracks for living people.