Passing through the city gates, Yan Xiaobao couldn’t help but take a deep breath. Tents were scattered everywhere, and guards were moving about constantly. It was as if he were gazing at a beehive—constant activity surrounded him. The buzzing murmur of thousands of people talking echoed throughout the area as guards shuffled from one post to another.
The experts in the area paid no attention to the young man weaving through the rows of tents. None of them would ever suspect that this young figure before them might be the Great Marshall—the one leading everyone, deciding personnel placements, and strategizing their moves. In truth, if anyone were to make such a claim among the gathered masses here, they’d surely be met with uproarious laughter and outright disbelief.
Yan Xiaobao paid no mind to their skepticism. He knew that as the sun sat high in the sky, the guards would be gathered together fully, and at that moment, everyone would come to know the identity of the Great Marshall. Yan Xiaobao was acutely aware of how many people would feel insulted by having to take orders from a young man—someone likely the youngest among them now and someone whose strength alone might not even rival the likes of the Emperor. And yet, he knew the same truth: the time of revelation would come under the noonday sun, and the collective disbelief would have nowhere to hide.
With a sigh, Yan Xiaobao could understand why so many men might grumble. This was a world where power dictated one’s future achievements, yet even those lacking raw strength as cultivators could possess cunning and wisdom. Though they were often deemed lesser experts compared to their peers, their insight was still held in high regard. Yan Xiaobao hoped he could embody such qualities—to win over not just the Emperor and Saints, but also the hearts of the common soldiers. The moment had arrived for them to acknowledge his leadership.
Reaching the heart of the camp, Yan Xiaobao spotted a massive arena erected boldly in its center. On the arena platform, a group of guards sparred fiercely against each other, engaging in training drills while honing their combat skills. On the surrounding ground below, many guards gathered to cheer on various experts participating in the friendly yet competitive exhibitions. Everywhere Yan Xiaobao looked, the sight of skill and camaraderie was evident as the vibrant camp bustled with activity.
However, the experts fighting on the arena weren’t just training for the sake of improvement; many were competing for the attention of the faction leaders. Despite temporarily uniting as an army, Yan Xiaobao could distinctly observe the lingering presence of multiple factions within their ranks. A knowing smile spread across his lips as he realized the potential to exploit this inter-faction rivalry, using it not only to boost morale but to enhance the army’s overall combat effectiveness. Squinting at the experts battling before him, he watched the exchanges of blows and skillful maneuvers, his smile deepening in appreciation for their adept displays, accompanied by the electrifying cheers from the crowd.
Training these guards into fully-fledged soldiers might not prove as difficult as he’d initially thought. He even entertained the notion that convincing the experts to transform into soldiers might be easier than persuading their commanders had previously been. With a faint smile on his lips, Yan Xiaobao entertained a pleasant calculation—not needing the entire gathered force of forty thousand, but crafting an elite army of fourteen thousand would suffice.
Finding this idea both clever and promising, Yan Xiaobao couldn’t suppress a soft chuckle as he let the thought steadily grow. He pressed onward, nearing the arena, his observant eyes soaking in the bustling expanse. Wherever he turned, more and more experts were making their way toward the arena—some drawn by the thrill of dueling, others simply curious to witness the spectacle, and the majority eager to uncover the identity and prowess of the elusive Great Marshall. Was he the legendary Forest King? If so, many believed he was their rightful master. Could he be some secret, enigmatic expert whose name was unknown? Or perhaps Wan Qiao? Each expert held their own vision of what the Great Marshall might be, yet none could have predicted the young man standing in the front row, a faint smile playing on his lips as he observed the battles from his prime vantage point.
The sun climbed steadily in the sky, inching closer to the moment designated for the Great Marshall’s arrival. Yan Xiaobao remained stationed in the front row, quietly watching as the arena slowly cleared of combatants. With each victory declared, the Emperor Expert emerged to escort the participants away from the platform, ensuring no one remained behind to spark another unplanned contest.
Initially, when Yan Xiaobao had arrived, the sheer density of the crowd had allowed for a clearer view of the arena proceedings. But as time passed, the growing influx of guards rendered visibility increasingly strained. The scene had transformed into a sea of cultivators, gathered thickly around the arena in anticipation. Despite its enormous size, the arena now felt constricted with seven or eight hundred experts packed elbow to elbow. Even so, a small podium stood prominently before them all—prepared specifically for the Great Marshall Yan Xiaobao.
Finally, as the sun reached its zenith, Yan Xiaobao began ascending one of the staircases leading toward the arena. Yet, with each step closer, the jeers and sharp remarks from the crowd grew louder: "You fool, you can’t enter the arena now! Can’t you see the crowd of experts here?" "Don’t push—just stand back and enjoy the show!" "Idiot, do you think you’re worth watching like these experts are?"