Chapter Ten: Behind the Scenes-Infinite Hunting Grounds(Blood Spatters, Fragrance Lingers)

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At 5:12 the next morning, beside Guo Qu Shuai’s tent, two men who looked no different from the other Yellow Turban soldiers were whispering quietly. If Wang Luo were here, attempting to view their attributes with his command points, he would receive a prompt: “Unable to view information on hostile contractors.”

“We were so close!” one of them, let’s call him A, complained. “Who’s controlling that general anyway? Such an idiot! Lost control at the critical moment!”

“Flanking always risks a drop in morale,” B defended. “Charles’s Mind Confusion skill isn’t high, so it’s easy to lose control.”

“Don’t try to excuse him just because he’s handsome,” A replied sourly. “They’re all useless; flanking didn’t do any real damage. Couldn’t they have held out a bit longer?”

“The leader used... anyway, a very expensive item, to erode the scene this much. There are few people here—if it weren’t for Charles, the Han army wouldn’t have shown up at all... Don’t be upset, the stimulation lasts over forty hours, we still have a chance.”

After B said this, A shook his head but said no more.

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The camp assigned to Wang Luo as commander wasn’t Guo Da's original one, but Wang Luo paid it no mind. Exhaustion and delight suppressed any doubts or sense of discord that might have arisen. After a night’s rest, he gathered the ten “Yellow Turban soldiers” who had followed him in flanking the enemy, lining them up in formation outside his tent.

“Repeat after me! ‘The Dao that can be spoken is not the eternal Dao.’”

“The Dao that can be spoken is not the eternal Dao.”

“The name that can be named is not the eternal name.”

“Cooperation!”

As the soldiers recited, Wang Luo activated the skills “Forging” and “Cooperation” (indeed, the requirements for using the cooperation skill are: first, allies; second, the assistants must say the word ‘cooperation’). Forging, as a skill costing 120 universal points in the space base, is not without reason.

It has several drawbacks: First, crafting equipment takes a long time (after entering this scene, making a ‘basic shield’ took Wang Luo six hours); second, the raw materials needed for forging are generally expensive, and at least in the early stages, the finished products have little value; third, upgrading the forging skill demands a great many skill points.

Normally, Wang Luo couldn’t directly use the Yellow Turban camp’s materials; he needed to exchange them from the quartermaster with universal points before they could be used. However, thanks to the special function of command points, as a Yellow Turban officer he gained authority to utilize the camp’s materials. Another restriction of forging—that equipment made without exchange could not be used by outside contractors, nor would successful crafting grant skill points—was resolved by Wang Luo’s other skill, gained by accident: Cooperation.

As the ten soldiers recited Wang Luo’s phrases, their stamina bars slowly declined. Eventually, the iron ingot was shaped into a round shield.

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“Your forging skill has increased by one point.”

Success.

This time, Yang Wentian and Zhou Yingxiong, standing nearby, noticed nothing unusual. But for Wang Luo, from this moment onward, he felt like a carp leaping over the dragon gate.

Wang Luo glanced at Yang Wentian. The latter held up three fingers. “Thirty-three minutes.”

Then he picked up the shield, only to toss it aside. “It can be used, but still can’t be taken out of this scenario.”

Wang Luo nodded. Contractors usually disdain such equipment, but giving them to the Yellow Turban soldiers—his own subordinates—would greatly enhance their combat strength. The best surprise was that, as more people joined, the forging process and required time shortened.

“Call all the soldiers in the camp... Have them line up, neatly, fifteen per row. Move the iron ingots to the center of the formation.”

The arrangement was due to the limited range of the cooperation skill; too much distance and it would fail. As soldiers ran over, noisily trying to form ranks, Wang Luo checked the remaining iron ingots.

If all were used, about fifty shields could be made.

Some didn’t show up. The system indicated 284 people, but only around 240 came, including dozens of women, elderly, and children.

The untrained soldiers made a mess of lining up, taking quite some time. Several men with apparent local prestige shouted and cursed, joked and laughed, not seeming to take Wang Luo, the “captain,” seriously.

Wang Luo let all this happen. He felt it wasn’t yet his place to demand much from them.

“‘Without, the beginning of Heaven and Earth! With, the mother of all things!’” This time, Wang Luo let Zhou Yingxiong lead the recitation.

“‘Without, the beginning of Heaven and Earth! With, the mother of all things!’” The soldiers followed.

“‘In unity, we forge armor and weapons!’”

...

At first, picking passages from the Dao De Jing was fitting. The Yellow Turban uprising was a religious movement at its core, and these phrases held palpable power as they were spoken.

The efficiency wasn’t as good as Wang Luo had hoped. With two hundred people cooperating, it still took nearly ten minutes to forge the first shield, and this time, no skill points were gained.

The second time, nine minutes. Third, eight minutes. Fourth, back to nine minutes.

So, roughly, that was the pace. By ten o’clock, all the iron ingots in the camp were used up, yielding fifty-four shields.

Skill improved by three points—effectively negligible.

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“That’s all for today!” Wang Luo ordered. “Everyone, drink some water! Rest!”

“So there’s no food stored?” Once the soldiers departed, Wang Luo asked the quartermaster who was responsible for logistics.

“Yes, General. The Commander said not to worry; once we reach the Great Virtuous Master, we’ll have as much to eat as we like.”

“There should have been weapons and armor seized from the previous battle, right?”

“The Commander’s camp had people take everything we captured, said they’d select the best to send to the Great Virtuous Master.”

A sensible move—no wonder the Commander's men were always fully equipped... “Any other supplies in camp?”

“No... nothing left...”

This was clearly not a man used to lying; his face flushed as he spoke, lowering his head.

Wang Luo recalled seeing livestock—cattle, pigs, chickens—in the camp. Likely personal belongings brought along during the uprising, unwilling to abandon them. Afraid I’d take something... I shouldn’t have asked.

“What’s your name?”

“Liu... Liu An.”

“Liu An. Are there any iron ingots left?”

“No, General, you just used the last ones. I did see a few carts in the next camp over.”

No need to rush then. After sending the bewildered Liu An away, Wang Luo checked the countdown for the next Han army attack and pondered his next move.

The Yellow Turban soldiers were weak, poorly equipped, and lacked supplies. The Han army was about to attack; there was no time for training or forging equipment.

What to do?

Two options: fight or flee.

Fight—how? Training would help, but there’s no time, battle begins soon; flee? At least there’s a camp here, but the Yellow Turban army is full of old, sick, and young, dragging families, how fast could they move? If the Han army pursues, what then?

Wait, why did Guo Da set up camp here? The terrain isn’t good, nothing seems worth defending. Are there other Yellow Turban units nearby? Why did the Han army send only a small force?

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