Forty Millenniums of Cultivation

The Council of Elders was already prepared to hold the current battle line and “end the war with dignity”.

So, the elimination and reduction of the expedition army were inevitable.

Regarding the arrangements for the strong, bold troops who were still fighting, such as the tough warriors under the command of “God of War” Lei Chenghu, meetings and discussions were still being held.

But the surplus generals, who had lost all their troops and even their own strength, were naturally the first targets to be dealt with.

Naturally, since those people were the generals of the Imperium in name, leading either legions or fleets, and they had made great contributions in the Imperium’s counterattack, earning enough medals to wear on their chests like crystal suits, it would be inconsiderate to kick them away directly, which would also jeopardize the glorious image of the Imperium of True Human Beings.

The solution of the Council of Elders was to summon the commanders who had lost all the troops back into the capital and admitted them into the “Royal Seminar For Advanced Generals”, where they would be better educated and assigned with other tasks.

The “Royal Seminar For Advanced General” sounded rather intimidating, but it was actually poorer than anybody could think.

Before those strengthless commanders were stuffed in, the military academy was designed to transmit high-level officers for the Imperial Guards.

The Imperium Guards, the glorious and invincible Imperial Guards. What a splendid and awe-inspiring name it used to be!

When Blackstar the Great founded the Imperium, he once granted the strongest fleets with the most distinguished accomplishments the title of “Imperial Guards”. At that time, the Imperial Guards were truly one-in-ten-thousand elites and killing gods who survived hundreds of battles. In terms of combat ability, equipment, privileges, and future, they were all the best. They were the emperor’s most trusted subordinates!

Good days didn’t last. As the royal authority declined and the four Kurfürst families rose in the second five hundred years of the Imperium’s history, the four Kurfürsten were certainly unwilling to watch the emperor have a strong troop such as the Imperial Guards. Naturally, they contained, corrupted, and made use of the Imperial Guards through all kinds of approaches.

Also, the royal family was not competent enough. After a thousand years of enjoying the entertainment without doing anything, they had forgotten the schemes and fighting skills of their ancestors, but when it came to playing and drinking, they were all exceptionally talented.

A thousand years after the demise of Blackstar the Great, the so-called “Imperial Guards” had become a complete joke. Not only were they unworthy compared to the direct troops of the four Kurfürst families, but even the miscellaneous troops at the periphery of the Imperium were also better than them. Those miscellaneous troops were often needed to act as space pirates or privateers in their hometowns, or to fight against the nemeses from the neighboring worlds, or to struggle through the hellish battlefields in the frontline. They had more or less combat ability, but the Imperial Guards were all the most worthless rubbish. It was a pig farm where the four Kurfürst families raised everyone whose surname was Wuying into swine.

How could the commanders end up well after they were kicked into such a pig farm?

Leaving the future aside, the most critical thing right now was that the “Royal Seminar For Advanced Officers” did not have any funding or resources.

Now that it was under the name of the royal family, the military academy theoretically had nothing to do with the four Kurfürst families. After the files of the surplus generals were transferred to the school, their allowance would be the royal family’s responsibility.

Eight hundred years ago, everybody knew that even the dogs of the royal family had better food than the local Immortal Cultivators did. Whoever had “royal” on their head would be so proud when they encountered an enemy that their level would automatically increase!

But today, the situation was different. Everybody knew that even the royal family was abjectly poor and had to count on the intermittent relief of the four Kurfürst families.

The quantity of the relief was certainly not huge, and the quality couldn’t be very good either. It was barely enough for the daily needs of the royal family and the close relatives. There was absolutely no sufficient fuel and resources if they wanted to improve their personal combat ability or to practice with the outdated starships that were produced hundreds of years ago.

But the royal family had one thing good about themselves. Instead of fighting, they simply lived a happy and carefree life in the capital, raising birds, listening to songs, or having cricket duels every day. Their days were rather easy and comfortable.

Things were different for the surplus generals.

The blades and secret treasures of the Covenant Alliance were certainly no jokes. They were all the stuff left by the Pangu Clan on the primeval battlefields, and they could be as sordid and brutal as weapons could be. So much so that when they touched the enemy’s skin, one would be heavily wounded if not killed instantly.

After more than ten years of bloody battles, every surplus general was haunted by wounds and diseases or short of a few limbs. The medical fees to keep themselves in the current state were already astronomical, let alone the cost for a full recovery!

The royal family certainly did not have the money.

The liability was kicked from the royal family to the Department of National Defense, from the Department of National Defense to the Department of the Treasury, from the Department of the Treasury to the Department of Civil Affairs, and then from the Department of Civil Affairs back to the royal family. Everybody simply said the same thing—no money here!

Naturally, the surplus generals had their hometowns too. Their hometowns were usually at the peripheral worlds of the Imperium. By logic, if the royal family could not take care of them, their hometowns should.

However, for the Imperium’s counterattack, the peripheral worlds of the Imperium had used up the last drop of sweat and blood. Each of them was poorer than the rest. Their economies were all on the brink of collapse or already in the middle of it. How could they provide enough supplies for the treatment of the garbage?

Also, more than ten years ago, it was exactly them who led countless men to embark on the expedition, swearing that they would earn infinite wealth and glory for their homeland. Right now, the wealth and glory were still nowhere to be seen, but they had lost all of their men first. Even they had to return with broken bodies. How could they not be embarrassed to meet the acquaintances in their hometown?

More practically speaking, for the Immortal Cultivators in the Core Formation Stage or even the Nascent Soul Stage, how could they not have a few sworn enemies in their hometowns?

Their enemies were all whetting the blades waiting for their return. How would the lone commanders dare to return to their hometowns to be caught and killed?

They could not return to their hometowns, but the “Seminar of Generals” was a bottomless hole too. The subsidies that it offered could only keep them alive but guaranteed no future at all. They could turn to nobody for help at all!

Zhao Zhenwu was exactly the most typical “surplus general”.

He was from a harsh land at the edge of the first quadrant of the Imperium. After a few generations of relentless fighting, his ancestors created a rather powerful sect, before they spent tremendous money transforming the sect into dozens of carriers. They usually smuggled dutifully and lawfully, but they would not hesitate to kidnap and kill when there was an opportunity.

When it came to his father’s generation, the business grew larger and larger, and they were gradually bored of the smuggling business. Instead, they were officially upgraded into a privateer fleet, or licensed space pirates.

After his father was killed by his enemy or his subordinates in a deal, he took down the few other heads neatly and became the commander of the privateer fleet. But he had greater ambitions than his father. Killing and looting at the edge of the cosmos were too boring, and they would forever be bumpkins. A great man should accomplish something great to honor their ancestors by devoting their everything!

Right then, the Imperium’s counterattack began. In his feverishness, Zhao Zhenwu raised his own team and recruited a bunch of desperadoes with the savings of his family, before he dedicated himself to the “great and glorious” war as the vice admiral and the commander of the fleet.

But as it turned out, the ten years of bloody battles were like a dizzy dream. He had more and more medals, titles, and awards but fewer and fewer men. In the end, even his left eye and his left hand were broken off. Even his abdomen had been half blown up. His spiritual root was as soft as the penis of a crappy old man. When he turned around, he could find no brothers of the past at all!

The Immortal Cultivator Zhao Zhenwu woke up.

But before he realized what was going on, he had been politely asked to leave the advanced ward of the hospital, politely given new medals and honors, politely thanked for the unparalleled contributions he made to the Imperium, and then politely kicked to the Seminar of Generals.

At this moment, in the underground world of the thirty-sixth district, wearing the military uniform that was losing colors because of over-washing, Zhao Zhenwu folded and unfolded the hat in a daze.

It was a new habit that he had picked up in the Seminar of Generals.

His daze was mainly because he could not think it through. What exactly had happened, and how did all his men disappear step by step?

After all, there was nothing better to do in the Seminar of Generals. Many other surplus generals had been meditating like him all day. When they had too much thinking, they would also burst into tears, or found the relatives of the royal family for a fight. Even though they had been crippled and greatly lost their Cultivation, it was more than easy for them to beat up a few pigs.

But it was certainly not a good time to be absent-minded right now.

After a moment of dizziness, Zhao Zhenwu focused his attention again, and both his hands were sweating so hard that he was almost squeezing water out of the hat. He looked at the “Seven Star Jade Cutting Saber” half in affection and half in uneasiness.

At this moment, the Seven Star Jade Cutting Saber, which had never been away from him in the bloody battles over the past ten years, was like a salty fish in somebody else’s hands.

That was an appraiser of the pawnshop.

Judging from the young age of the appraiser, he couldn’t have been an experienced man of his trade but more like a rookie who had just entered the business. It was possible that he might misevaluate his familial saber.

“One miscellaneous saber made of common metals, dented, edgeless, rusted, without rune arrays, crystal chips, or incredible features. Estimated price… three thousand coins.”

The appraiser looked at the saber and then at him, yawning and announcing the price lethargically.

Zhao Zhenwu felt that his heart was heavy. His expectation was correct. The man was really a rookie who could not tell a real treasure!