Chapter Thirty-Seven: Reinforcements for Zhuo Commandery

Master—that is the title given in this era to martial arts grandmasters who have attained the realm of Manifestation. Though Guo You hailed from a collateral branch of the Guo family, he showed utmost reverence when faced with a figure like Sun Meng, a warrior of masterly caliber, especially under the present circumstances.

“What is this place?” Sun Meng asked again, fixing his gaze on Guo You. The name was unfamiliar to him, so he could not ascertain where he was.

“This is Jing County under Bohai Commandery. Thank you, Master, for slaying the bandits and rescuing us from peril. Please, enter the city, so that I may properly express my gratitude!” Guo You wore a smile perfectly measured for the occasion, though inwardly he was elated. If this newly ascended master could be befriended, or even persuaded to join the Guo family, Guo You might well rise to become an important branch of the clan.

Sun Meng could not guess his intentions, but he had his own plans and objectives. He waved dismissively. “Do you have a map? I need to go to Zhuo Commandery!” To accumulate merit, it was best to find the sites where major events unfolded, or to meet those involved in them. Since this was Bohai Commandery, Zhuo Commandery in Youzhou should not be far—there dwelled a person of great significance.

“We do have a map, but…” Guo You tried to delay Sun Meng, but Sun Meng grew impatient.

“If you have it, give it to me. If not, just point me the way!” His tone sharpened; Guo You hurriedly ordered a soldier to fetch it.

Thus, without Guo You’s command, the soldiers atop the city wall dared not act rashly; Guo You, wary of offending Sun Meng, refrained from giving orders. Sun Meng, meanwhile, waited only for the map, eager to depart and uninterested in Guo You’s courtesies.

For a time, the wall was enveloped in silence, even the soldiers’ breathing subdued. At last, hurried footsteps ascended; Sun Meng raised his hand, and the map flew straight into his grasp. Remote manipulation of internal energy was a skill of the Manifestation realm, and involved the use of spiritual power.

He unfolded the map and quickly located Zhuo Commandery. Comparing it to Jing City, Zhuo lay further north, within Youzhou.

With the map in hand, Sun Meng nodded. “Thank you!” With that, he soared into the sky, heading swiftly north.

Only when Sun Meng’s figure vanished did Guo You sigh. Glancing about, he barked, “What are you waiting for? Clean up here, tally the casualties, and bring me the heads of all the bandits!” With these words, he turned and descended the tower with his guards, ready to write the report on the city’s defense. He would also inform the main branch about Sun Meng.

Meanwhile, Sun Meng, after flying some distance, ceased his flight. Below, he saw scattered refugees and broken remnants of the Yellow Turban forces, most wandering like soulless husks, aimlessly following crowds.

Some Yellow Turban soldiers had gathered to form a new band, hoping to regroup—whether to join another leader or act independently, numbers meant survival.

From above, Sun Meng hesitated as he watched the masses. On the battlefield, he had no qualms about killing, but faced with these countless refugees, his resolve faltered.

Rescue them? He had neither the food nor the means to settle them, and in these times, they were difficult to handle, even if they obeyed him completely.

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“Contestant, your main objective is to reach Zhuo Commandery. Ideally, you should find Liu, Guan, and Zhang and join the main storyline as soon as possible.” Red text drifted across his vision, snapping Sun Meng from his hesitation.

He was not alone—bearing the responsibility for the rise and fall of civilization, he could not afford undue mercy.

After flying past the area, Sun Meng landed and continued on foot. Walking was not much slower, and conserved internal energy, allowing him to remain at peak condition.

On his journey, he came across countless starving refugees and mortally wounded, dying soldiers. The only mercy he could offer was to use his internal energy to reduce their bodies to dust—avoiding disease and obviating the need for burial.

Five days passed on the road; Sun Meng hunted mountain tigers and bears to sate his hunger, though even these beasts were lean in these times. Yet, nourished by internal energy, their meat was still decent.

Throughout his journey, the live-stream chat had grown quieter. The epic and heroic scenes of the Three Kingdoms, with their grand armies, were nowhere to be found—only the brutality of war, innumerable dead and wounded.

“If Earth is not strong enough, the trials here will be no better than those we face at home,” Sun Meng mused, tearing off a piece of roasted meat as he sat on a stone.

“Contestant, at your current pace, you should reach Zhuo Commandery in one more day. This world possesses a full cultivation system, including military formations and cloud energy arrays. You must learn to bring these back to Earth.” The red text appeared again.

The cultivation methods Sun Meng had introduced to Earth were impressive, but lacked mature systems for large-scale battles; the formations predicted by Monk Tripitaka were only suitable for groups under fifty.

Sun Meng nodded, about to speak, when he noticed people approaching from a distance.

“Well, what have we here? A band of stray Yellow Turban soldiers.” Sun Meng rose, as dozens of them arrived before him.

“Who are you?” The leader pointed his blade at Sun Meng.

“Just a traveler, heading to Zhuo Commandery.” Sun Meng regarded him. “And you? Which branch of the Yellow Turbans are you?”

He noticed some of them carried food, likely freshly looted.

“You’re a government spy, aren’t you? Seize him!” The leader’s eyes flashed with murderous intent. His men surrounded Sun Meng, ropes at the ready.

---

Sun Meng looked at the leader. “So, your main camp must not be far ahead.”

“So what? Soon, you dog of the government will be torn apart and devoured by the refugees. Cherish these final moments!” He raised his foot to kick Sun Meng, annoyed by his calm demeanor.

But in the next instant, all the surrounding Yellow Turban soldiers were hurled away, convulsed, and lifeless. Only the leader, now seated on the ground, stared at Sun Meng in terror.

“Who… who are you?” His face was pale, the pressure Sun Meng exuded reminded him of encountering the Great Virtuous Teacher—though the teacher had smiled gently, his aura was unmistakable.

“I told you, I am just a traveler, so why provoke me? Still, thank you for showing me the way.” Sun Meng finished, and with a burst of internal energy, ended his life. As before, he reduced the bodies to dust.

Rising into the air, Sun Meng soon spotted the banners of the Yellow Turban camp—“Cheng” and “Deng” fluttered atop them. The camp was far larger than Yu Du’s previous encampment, numbering at least thirty thousand, perhaps more.

In the distance, roughly ten kilometers away, lay Zhuo Commandery. Since these Yellow Turbans had not yet been defeated, Liu, Guan, and Zhang had not joined the army—or had not yet acted.

Should he strike now against the Yellow Turbans, or first visit Zhuo Commandery? As Sun Meng looked again at the camp, he noticed something unusual—a faint yellow cloud enveloped the encampment. He was certain that, should he descend from the sky, the cloud formation would activate and suppress his internal energy.

“No wonder Cheng Yuanzhi can command so many Yellow Turban troops—he has some skill!” Sun Meng reconsidered his plan. Though the Divine Bow of Hou Yi retained its powers, it was now sealed and somewhat restricted.

“If I don’t know what Cheng Yuanzhi looks like, its power can’t be fully unleashed. It might alert him. Better to head for Zhuo Commandery; perhaps I can meet Liu, Guan, and Zhang there.” Sun Meng accelerated toward the city.

The soldiers atop the city wall saw Sun Meng descending from the sky and quickly sounded the alarm. One stationed at the edge ran down to the city lord’s residence.

At that moment, Sun Meng sensed two auras within the city, both matching his own in strength.