Chapter Thirteen: Borrowing Strength-Infinite Hunting Grounds(Blood Spatters, Fragrance Lingers)

“Why didn’t the Han army show up today?”

Inside a small tent in the camp of the canal commander, A whispered irritably to B.

“How would I know...” B replied, looking utterly helpless.

“Was there a problem with your skill?”

“Why are you blaming me again... I can only use the activation on one person, how could it possibly affect the whole army...”

“But it does influence the environment around the target, doesn’t it! Anyway, no one who’s partnered with you has ever had things go smoothly! I must be drunk, what possessed me to bring you along?”

“Wuu...”

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Dark clouds obscured the moon, not a single star pierced the night.

After resting for a while, Wang Luo ordered torches lit throughout the camp. The soldiers shouldered their water pouches and worked through the night.

Su Si had brought over more than three hundred men. The twenty at the very front immediately donned the equipment Wang Luo had crafted. As they lined up, these stood in the first row, flanking Su Si.

These must be his most trusted companions.

Wang Luo turned his attention back to his work. With the increased manpower, the time needed to produce each piece of equipment fell from about nine minutes to roughly four. Casting iron ore into ingots took Wang Luo about two minutes per batch. So, with the current workforce, he could arm the entire army in a month and a half, working without rest.

But... with even more people, production would speed up further. Wang Luo didn’t fully understand how the increase in numbers correlated with faster output, nor did he dwell on it; so long as more could be added, that was enough.

While forging with his skill, his body barely moved, but speaking and thinking posed no hindrance.

Almost no one in the Yellow Turban army could read.

Yet, that didn’t mean they weren’t eager for knowledge. From Wang Luo’s experience, illiterate people tended toward two extremes—either they rejected knowledge utterly, or revered it as divine.

Su Si, watching the ranks outside the camp, clearly belonged to the latter.

He must have fought many battles. When facing Han troops, he must’ve noticed the power of their orderly formations. But the Yellow Turban ranks were chaotic, constantly embroiled in conflict and facing daily uncertainty; time for training was a luxury he couldn’t afford.

Moreover, he had no idea how to train them.

But if someone was willing to help, why would he refuse?

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However, to challenge the canal commander, more support was needed.

As Wang Luo pondered this, a message suddenly appeared:

“The equipment you crafted has been improved.”

Hm? Wang Luo picked up the newly finished shield.

It was a basic round shield with curvature and a handle. But this one, on close inspection, emitted a faint black glow around its edges. Its name and attributes had changed.

“Sturdy Basic Shield”

“Defense 5–7”

Unlike other basic shields, which fixed the defense at 5, this one had a variable range. With the adjective "sturdy" attached—might there be other prefixes?

Such change had never occurred before. Had it simply been a matter of probability, and now, after enough attempts, it happened? Or was some other condition met?

As he mused, a commotion arose at the front of the ranks.

He saw several men on horseback speaking to Su Si across from them.

It was now six-thirty; most likely subordinates of Guo Da. Was this by Guo Da’s command, or were his men acting to curry favor?

Su Si intended to rely on his own reputation and connections to settle the matter. He would negotiate, Guo Da’s men would apply pressure, and then compromise would be reached, with both sides yielding.

They want to take my gains and still resolve things peacefully?

Wang Luo raised the flag at his side.

“If one does not know when the army cannot advance and yet orders it forward, or cannot retreat and yet orders withdrawal, that is to squander the troops!”

“If one shares governance of the three armies without knowing their affairs, the soldiers will be confused!”

“If one commands armies without understanding warfare, such a leader is a menace!”

“To seize our armor and not use it, yet send us into battle—this is to slaughter us!”

“If he seeks to kill me, I’ll kill him first!”

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“If he seeks to kill me, I’ll kill him first!”

Zhou Yingxiong at the front and Yang Wentian at the rear, seeing Wang Luo raise the flag, immediately shouted the prepared slogans in unison. The soldiers, out of habit, joined in.

Wang Luo sensed that many in the surrounding tents had heard these words. When the men in formation shouted, their voices carried the excitement and resolve of those who, at last, understood the cause of their suffering.

Perhaps feeling this determination, the horsemen said nothing further and fled.

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“You’ve nearly gotten me killed.”

Su Si, face dark, approached Wang Luo, who was examining a newly forged “Bleeding Basic Saber,” its blade shimmering with a faint silver light.

“Were those the canal commander’s men?” Wang Luo handed the saber to Yang Wentian, who had just arrived at his side. “Were they here for equipment?”

“Yes.” Su Si sighed. “I told them we hadn’t made much, gave them a few sets just to appease them. But your shouting made them think we meant to kill them...”

“Is it still possible to explain?”

“The canal commander likely won’t take offense, but now I won’t have much left.”

“Then,” Wang Luo stopped forging and stood, “do you think it’s better to give the gear to those in the canal commander’s camp who never stand on the front lines, always lurking in the rear—or to these,” he gestured to the ranks before him, “the warriors at the forefront?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Of course it’s better for us to have it! But what’s the use of saying that? He’s the canal commander.”

“How about the other generals’ camps?” Wang Luo gestured outside. “How’s your relationship with them?”

“Not bad. If the canal commander wanted to punish me, they’d plead for me; but if I wanted to keep the armor, they wouldn’t support me.”

“In any case, armor is always useful when returning from battle. If we give this batch,” Wang Luo pointed at the newly forged armor, “to them—ten sets per camp?”

“That won’t be enough.” Su Si glanced behind Wang Luo.

“Last night I only made shields, armor, and short swords. Greaves, helmets, shoes—I’ll make up for those later. Ten sets now, and after, I’ll help train their soldiers. The condition: they bring their own men and join us in visiting the canal commander to discuss the armor.”

“Alright.” After thinking for a moment, Su Si nodded. “I’ll go find them now. Everyone’s been toiling all night; let’s send them back to rest.”

“No.” Wang Luo shook his head. “I know everyone’s tired. But now is the time to persist. The more people we bring to the canal commander, the more sincere we’ll seem. Too few, and it’d show disrespect.”

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