After leading the City Guard through their morning exercises, Boto wiped the sweat from his forehead with a towel.
The soldiers, gasping for breath, slumped to the ground, each grabbing a sheepskin bag to gulp down water.
"Don’t drink so much at once! Small sips!"
Boto brandished his wooden sword, smacking the young n: "How many tis must I say it! Drinking too much water too quickly after intense training can cause stomach pain and dizziness. Rest a while before you touch water again!"
"Anyone I catch doing otherwise will run twenty laps around the city."
The soldiers grimaced and hurriedly set down their water bags.
They muttered under their breath: "Commander’s so strict... trains us like we’re donkeys."
"Yeah, he needs to find a wife, might improve his temper."
"True, a man without a woman is always hot-headed."
Boto glared at them: "What’s all the mumbling! This is training, training is the battlefield! Shut your mouths!"
The soldiers fell silent imdiately.
"Alright, next is archery practice."
Boto, with hands clasped behind his back, said: "In real combat, the enemy won’t give you a chance to catch your breath and regroup. You must learn to draw and shoot while exhausted and weak."
"With the aid of magic potions, as long as the arrow pierces the enemy’s flesh, it will quickly paralyze them, greatly reducing the difficulty for you. Be grateful for the inventions and research of those before you; it will save you from shedding blood."
"Simulating real battlefield conditions, that’s effective practice."
Despite their complaints, the young n quickly picked up their bows and began aiming at the targets.
Though the commander was harsh and had a sharp tongue, his teachings were useful, and he participated in the training himself, never seeking special treatnt. Several tis during patrols, it was his command and their regular training that allowed them to swiftly subdue criminals and Extraordinary Beings.
Moreover, the commander had risen from a common soldier to squad leader, to deputy commander, and then succeeded the old commander. For ten consecutive years, he had been comnded by the Salt City Civic Council.
Sanilo had offered him generous incentives multiple tis, wanting to poach him as a commander to relieve Commander Alex. The position there offered higher pay, better equipnt, and even command over the rman Legion—an offer hard for any soldier to resist.
Yet he stayed in Salt City.
Such loyalty and perseverance inspired the young n, who respected and admired him from the bottom of their hearts.
Boto was about to start their foot combat training when a tall man on horseback approached.
"Boto."
Upon seeing the man, he imdiately stood at attention: "Mr. Mayor."
It was Mayor Tonghai.
Though over sixty, Tonghai was still robust, his thick beard lending him an air of authority. But those familiar with the mayor knew he was approachable and amiable.
"I’ve brought you sothing good."
Tonghai smiled, taking two large boxes from his horse’s back and placing them on the ground.
"Take a look."
The scholar secretary arrived on horseback, panting: "Mr. Mayor, please don’t go off alone, wait for . The harbor lighthouse needs inspection, there’s an afternoon eting with the prophet Shibao, and the council has two more resolutions..."
"I know, I know, we’ll talk about it later."
Tonghai waved his hand dismissively, looking at Boto: "Open it and see."
Boto lifted the lid, revealing a suit of full-body armor, disassembled and cast in brass, shimring with the unique luster of tal.
"Ghost Armor." Boto was taken aback.
"Correct." Tonghai handed him the chest piece: "Try it on."
"It’s too expensive."
Boto was well aware that the armor was worth as much as a house in the old district of Salt City. And since Ghost Armor was ti-consuming to make and could only be crafted by Dwarf masters, it was custom-ordered from them.
"Our commander of the Salt City Guard deserves armor that befits him. This isn’t just about you; it’s about the dignity of Salt City."
Tonghai stroked his beard, pride written all over his face.
Boto caressed the brass armor, his heart racing with excitent.
No soldier could resist a fine suit of armor. Though Ghost Armor might slow one down, even an ordinary person could have defense on par with an Extraordinary Being once clad in it.
"Good brother, you’ve worked hard."
Tonghai patted Boto’s arm, smiling: "We’ll have a drink when there’s ti."
He spurred his horse: "Secretary, where did you say we were going?"
The secretary snapped back to reality: "The harbor lighthouse."
"Let’s go, to the lighthouse."
He ca and went in a hurry, riding towards the harbor.
The secretary hurried to follow.
Seeing this, the soldiers sward over, touching the armor in the box incessantly.
"So this is Ghost Armor... it looks like this, lighter than regular iron armor."
"Dwarf craftsmanship is impressive, look, there’s Master Hamr Endless’s engraving, he made it himself, and the commander’s na is inscribed on the back, wow, a signed custom piece!"
"The commander’s got clout, if only I had armor like this... I’d wear it to sleep every day."
"Let see, let see."
While the soldiers excitedly discussed the armor, Boto wasn’t sharing their joy.
He looked at the priceless armor, his feelings complex.
Sotis Boto was confused.
Was he the commander of the Salt City Guard, or the captain of the Empire’s first Scout Group?
These two identities constantly intertwined.
As the Scout Group captain, he had delved deep into the city’s terrifying underbelly, increasingly aware of the world’s divine terror, worried for the Empire’s future.
But as the commander, he took pride in this great city, was proud of the young n here, and reveled in the endless stream of creations and inventions.
When he first arrived at 24, Boto was full of ambition.
He joined the City Guard to understand the city’s defense system.
By the third year, he was promoted to squad leader, nearly mastering the City Guard’s routines, equipnt, and combat capabilities.
But it was then that Boto began to struggle.
In the fifth year, he was promoted to deputy commander for cracking a major smuggling case involving Cannibal Crabs and arresting a group of criminal rfolk.
In the seventh year, the old commander retired, and he officially took over the City Guard, capturing the infamous Red Demon Gang, a notorious thief group made up of Cannibal Crabs and Fire Chickens, and solving the kidnapping of the famous philanthropist’s grandson, Salt Pouch.
From then on, Boto’s fa soared, hailed as the Salt City Detective. The famous storyteller Pawa even sought him out to inquire about his past for future writings.
Now it was his tenth year in Salt City.
And his tenth year away from the Empire’s holand.
At 34, Boto was increasingly unclear about his true identity.
***
The sailboat slowly docked, the sailors tying it to the dock’s stone posts, starting to drink and chat.
Boto, his face covered by a hood, followed his mory to an old, decrepit cottage in the forest.
He waited from when the sun was high until night fell deep.
Only two people ca to et.
One was the rchant Boto Nine Thousand, and the other was the scholar Boto Zhan.
He thought perhaps the others wouldn’t co.
Boto spoke slowly: "Share your intelligence."
Boto Nine Thousand began: "Elf Lake to the south has started selling treasure chests, which can be opened on the spot. But no one knows if there’s just a pearl inside or a fortune in gold. The business is booming, said to be the idea of the current Elf leader, the tree nymph Jodi."
"Though rchants suspect a trick, many still try their luck. Few strike it rich, but the Elves are making a tidy profit..."
Boto Nine Thousand’s voice grew softer, then he said: "Let’s call it quits, captain... we’re all tired."
Boto looked at Boto Nine Thousand: "Is that your opinion? Or everyone’s?"
Boto Nine Thousand avoided the question, saying: "Captain, it’s been ten years. If the Empire truly hadn’t forgotten us, they would have found this world by now. But the fact is, in these ten years, aside from us fourteen, no other Boto Clan mbers have appeared."
"To the Empire, we’re just expendable pawns, captain, you know this better than anyone. Even our Scout Group isn’t officially part of the military."
After a pause, Boto Nine Thousand said: "Captain, back in the Scout Group, we risked our lives for ager pay and no security, surviving on sheer will. The Empire conscripts soldiers, and refusal ans death."
"It’s not about anything else; it’s because we trust you."
"With you, we can survive."
"Each of us rembers your great kindness; you’ve saved our lives many tis. The brothers have nothing to say; if you need us, we’ll be there for you."
"But the Empire... it’s too far from us now."
Boto Nine Thousand’s smile was bitter: "According to Imperial law, we’re already considered deserters for being out of contact for half a year. Going back is impossible. The Group gave us the wrong map, but the captain will never admit it, you know this better than us. In the end, the bla will fall on us soldiers."
"In this world, for the first ti, we’re not forced onto the battlefield. We can support ourselves with hard work, without worrying about monsters breaking into our hos to devour us."
Boto’s lips were tightly pressed.
"Captain, you should know that the Yao Clan isn’t actually a single bloodline. It’s many tribes united by their faith in God Yao, a group ford around this belief. Everyone shares their knowledge and skills, acquiring wealth through various ans, creating such a unique nation."
"We haven’t betrayed the Empire, because we won’t forget we co from the Empire, its excellent military training system, its years of glass craftsmanship, the sacrificial construction taught to us, and those widely spread Imperial songs."
Boto Nine Thousand spoke earnestly: "Captain, do you really think the secrets of the Boto Clan are secrets to the gods and Apostles?"
"God Yao sees all, rely tolerant and rciful towards us, just as with the followers of the old gods."
Boto’s frown deepened.
"It’s ti for a change. Captain."
"We’re not soldiers now, but soldiers abandoned. To the Empire, we’re just an insignificant mistake, rely numbers on a battle report."
"And here, the war ended before it began; the Empire lost."
"We’re still citizens of the Empire, so let’s continue the Empire in another way here."
"Captain."
Boto Nine Thousand paused: "It’s enough, you’ve given your all. The war is over; there’s no need to continue."
After hearing him out, Boto looked up, his voice cold: "You may give up your Imperial identity; I can’t stop you. But I am still the captain of the Empire’s first Scout Group, Squad Fifteen."
He drew his iron sword, severing the spit over the campfire: "If you leak Imperial secrets, you’ll face military justice!"
Boto Nine Thousand and Boto Zhan said nothing.
They picked up their packs, glanced back at the man still sitting by the fire, and then disappeared into the night.
Leaving Boto alone, staring into the flas.
***
Lu Yao looked down at the lonely Boto.
Your loyalty and perseverance are admired by the gods.
But the taste of being an undercover agent is not pleasant.
Soon, the Simulator displayed:
[Boto Nine Thousand has taught glassmaking to Salt City]
[Yao City has built its first altar to worship God Yao]
[Due to the altar’s establishnt, Yao City’s faith has increased slightly.]
Faith points kept increasing in the top right corner.
50
12
72
...
Lu Yao tallied up, the altar’s establishnt brought about 17,000 points of faith, roughly half the population of Salt City.
In the following ti, Salt City, Sanilo, and even Canopy City all built altars.
The Boto Clan’s altars in various cities brought Lu Yao a total of 40,000 points of faith.
This surge pushed the faith reserve past the 230,000 mark.
Lu Yao was satisfied.
The wait was worthwhile.
And then, a prompt appeared on the ga interface.
—Great deity, a believer has perford a feat far beyond his peers. Would you like to transform him into a hero?
【Yes】【No】
Boto was surrounded by a faint glow.
Lu Yao thought to himself.
The deity has decided; you shall be the hero.
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