Shackles of Humanity

On the day of departure, the sky, once clear, had turned somewhat gloomy.

First came the distribution of shoulder patches and equipment. The soldiers of the Slave Soldier Camp were issued a patch with a flying horse insignia. It bore only a single line of numbers, 105, with no rank or unit designation.

Luo Kai received an old-fashioned, long-stocked rifle. More than half the paint on the stock was gone, and the rifling was severely worn—far worse than the guns they usually trained with. He also got a military backpack containing a thin bedroll, a box of compressed rations, and a canteen of drinking water.

The other items were one thing, but the weapons were utter trash. It wasn’t just him; all the soldiers in the Slave Soldier Camp received old guns. In contrast, the regularly recruited soldiers were given new rifles that reeked of machine oil. The difference in status was immediately apparent.

Big Bear, standing in front of him, cradled an old rifle as if it were a treasure. He turned back and said excitedly, ”You don’t get it. Old guns have been tested in real combat. They shoot straighter. They’re better than the new ones.”

Luo Kai rolled his eyes, speechless. Worn rifling directly affected a bullet’s accuracy; how could it possibly be better than a new gun? That Camp Commander Kang Cheng must have brainwashed the squad leaders. The slaves, mostly from backward and isolated environments, were easily fooled.

Inside the barracks, soldiers began to assemble by batch and unit number. With over ten thousand men, it was a sea of people that flooded the entire camp. Shouts of ”Attention!” and ”At ease!” thundered through the air. The first wave of soldiers left the barracks, marching toward the military railway station.

A steam-powered train was already waiting at the station. More than twenty cars were coupled behind the engine, all painted green, resembling a long, green snake.

Assuming each car could hold two hundred people, one train could carry nearly four thousand soldiers. Of course, it was impossible to pack every car full of soldiers; a few had to be reserved for officers and military supplies.

With a bitter expression, Luo Kai squeezed into a car with the crowd. To fit more people, all the tables and chairs inside had been removed, leaving only the floor to sit on. Following Big Bear, he managed to snag a spot by a window. He hurriedly opened it, letting a cool breeze disperse the stench of sweat in the car. Only then did he breathe a sigh of relief, already pondering how he might jump from the window once the train was moving.

Outside, the crowd of people surged. Large groups of soldiers were still arriving, but this train had limited capacity, so they would have to wait for the next one.

Luo Kai’s attention was drawn to two strange figures in the crowd. Their builds were bizarre; their waists and lower limbs were as thin as sticks, but their chests and arms were incredibly muscular. Their arms were much thicker than their waists. They looked like two large gorillas—no, more like Popeye from the comics.

Each of them carried a large crate on their back as they entered the officer-exclusive car further down the train.

Then, he spotted a familiar face: the pretty female soldier with the phoenix eyes. She and the other students from the Physical Martial Arts Academy were also boarding the cars at the rear. ’It’s a small world,’ Luo Kai muttered to himself, rubbing his chin. ’What a shame I won’t get a chance to teach her a lesson!’

With a long whistle, the train CHUGGED to a start. Its speed was agonizingly slow; it traveled for a good while without picking up pace. He estimated its speed was only sixty or seventy kilometers per hour, far slower than the cars from his past life. Riding at this snail’s pace was a true form of torture.

The Tieheng Mountain Range was a long, narrow, and unbroken chain of mountains with rugged terrain. A few of its central peaks held astonishingly large reserves of iron ore. The Xingma Kingdom and the Nanzhao Kingdom were locked in constant, grueling warfare over it. Even if one side couldn’t mine it, they couldn’t let the other side do so either, simply because steel was too crucial for industry. Coupled with the Tieheng Mountain Range’s easily defensible terrain, if either nation were to seize control of it, they would completely alter their national standing and officially join the ranks of the Human Race’s major powers.

Jinlan Prefecture was about three hundred kilometers from the Tieheng Mountain Range, which meant they would probably reach the front lines in seven or eight hours.

Among the Slave Soldiers, some were excited, others were deeply anxious, but most wore gloomy expressions. During their brief half-month of training, the instructors had taught them some simple geography and military theory. They all knew of the infamous Tieheng Battlefield. No one knew if this journey would lead to life or death; their futures were not in their own hands.

Big Bear was one of the excited ones. He started yelling out the window, as if venting the frustrations of his training, or perhaps as if he had finally obtained the freedom he yearned for.

This quickly set off a chain reaction. Many others began shouting out their windows, and for a moment, their cries drowned out the roar of the train.

Compared to the crowded front cars, the rear cars were like a normal train. The students from the Physical Martial Arts Academy were also thrilled. To them, this trip to the front lines for experience was like being birds let out of a cage. They could finally see the wide world outside and, more importantly, finally had a chance to apply what they had learned and make a name for themselves.

A tall, handsome student cleared his throat and announced, ”Everyone, I have some good news! Three days ago, General Mushan led the elites of the Military Punishment Department on a stealth mission into the Nanzhao Kingdom and blew up their largest ammunition depot!”

”What! Really?”

”Xu Tao, where did you get that information?”

The students instantly grew excited. The importance of an ammunition depot in firearm warfare was self-evident. Even Yue Han couldn’t help but ask, ”Xu Tao, how do you know that?”

Xu Tao made a mysterious ”shush” gesture and said in a low voice, ”The source is absolutely reliable. The military hasn’t announced it yet, so don’t you go spreading it around.”

...

Luo Kai leaned drowsily against the window. He didn’t know how long they had been traveling, but the train had left the Jinlan Prefecture region and entered a vast expanse of mountains.

The scenery outside was beautiful, a vibrant change from the monotonous desolation of the plains. There were endless green forests teeming with all kinds of birds and animals. Luo Kai even saw a herd of deer with large, twisted antlers that looked like reindeer. The Xingma Kingdom was located in the south; for reindeer to be here, it seemed many animals must have changed their habits since the great cataclysm.

Luo Kai slung the rifle across his back and opened the window a little wider. The train wasn’t moving fast; with his physical conditioning, he could jump out without even a scratch. Just as he was about to leap, he couldn’t help but glance back at Big Bear. The big guy was leaning against the car wall, fast asleep, a puddle of drool on the floor by his mouth. A sudden reluctance filled Luo Kai’s heart. ’Forget it,’ he thought. ’I’ll find another chance.’

After a while, the scenery outside changed again as they entered a winding mountain railway. The tracks were built along the edge of the mountainside, with a steep slope dozens of meters high on one side.

A dark tunnel entrance appeared ahead. As the train rumbled into the tunnel, Luo Kai’s eyelids suddenly twitched violently. An indescribable sense of crisis rose in his heart, so intense that the very flow of his blood began to quicken on its own. His expression changed drastically. He glanced around, but the other soldiers were still sleeping or chatting, showing no signs of anything unusual.

But the sense of crisis in his heart grew stronger. As his strength had increased, his mysterious Sixth Sense had become more and more accurate. It was as if some unseen force was warning him that a life-threatening disaster was about to strike.

Luo Kai could no longer hold back. He roared, ”Stop the train! Stop the train now!” His voice was so loud it cut through the din in the car, and the other Slave Soldiers all stared at him in confusion.

Big Bear was startled awake. He waved a hand in front of Luo Kai’s face. ”9527, what’s wrong with you?”

Luo Kai had no time to explain. But this was a train; no matter how loud he shouted, the engine driver wouldn’t hear him. Gritting his teeth, he threw the window wide open and yelled, ”Jump! Jump from the train if you want to live!”

No one listened to him. They all looked at him as if he were a lunatic.

The light at the end of the tunnel was faintly visible, and soon the front half of the train had emerged. At that very moment, a violent explosion erupted. The first few cars that had just left the tunnel were thrown into the air by the massive blast, dragging the subsequent cars with them into a ravine dozens of meters deep.

It all happened so suddenly that even Luo Kai was thrown into the air. He could only grab the luggage rack above him for support. In his peripheral vision, he saw Big Bear being tossed about and quickly hooked him with his leg. Countless heart-wrenching screams and the CRACK of breaking bones erupted around him. The violent collisions and tumbling lasted for half a minute. With a final series of deafening RUMBLES, the overturned train finally came to a stop. The car was severely mangled, its inside transformed into a Corpse Mountain Blood Sea.

Luo Kai climbed out from a pile of corpses. Beside him, Big Bear’s eyes were rolling back in his head as he coughed up bloody foam, on the verge of death.

With no time for grief or rage, he hoisted Big Bear onto his shoulder, smashed a hole in the shattered train car with one punch, and crawled out.

The scene outside made even Luo Kai, who was accustomed to death, tremble slightly. More than a dozen cars had all slid into the deep ravine dozens of meters below. The fragile flesh and blood of human bodies could not possibly withstand such an impact. Thousands of soldiers had died on the way, never even reaching the battlefield.

A gray mist seemed to float faintly in the sky. It wasn’t smoke or dust, but the lingering resentment, hatred, and fury of the dead...