I become stronger by sacrificing my lifespan, becoming invincible in the world.

The team set off just as dawn was breaking.

The further north you go, the stronger the wind gets.

Wild grasses crawled across the frozen ground, and the distant mountains appeared a dark, iron-blue color, like the jagged back of a giant beast. The sky was grayish-white, with low-hanging clouds that seemed poised to collapse at any moment.

Lin Chen rode on his horse, his black clothes fluttering in the wind.

He had already changed his sitting position three times—his body was too weak; after riding a horse for only two hours, the skin on his inner thighs was chafed raw and burning with pain. With his dantian shattered, he couldn't even maintain the most basic internal energy to protect himself, and could only tough it out.

But he didn't say anything.

He simply silently mobilized the warm current transformed from his 15 years of lifespan within his body, slowly nourishing his tired muscles and wounds.

"We're almost there."

Chen Hong rode up to his side and pointed to a dark shadow that was faintly visible in the distance: "That's Ghost Cry Pass."

Lin Chen looked up.

It was a majestic pass built against the mountain, its walls constructed of massive, dark blue stone blocks, reaching a height of over ten zhang (approximately 33 meters). The walls extended to both sides, disappearing into the mountain ridges on either side, like a scar across the land.

On the wall, the figures of patrolling soldiers could be vaguely seen, as tiny as ants.

Even more striking are the dense, dark red marks on the city wall—bloodstains accumulated over the years, seeping into the cracks in the stones, impossible to wash off.

Ghost Cry Pass.

The first formidable pass in the northern border of the Kowloon Dynasty, and also the front line against northern demons.

"There are 30,000 troops stationed inside the pass," Chen Hong lowered his voice, "but the real elite force is less than 5,000. The rest... are mostly exiled prisoners, border troops who have committed crimes, and convicts sent from various places."

He paused, then gave Lin Chen a meaningful look: "Here, being a prince doesn't count. In the pass, only military merit matters, and also... fists."

Lin Chen didn't reply.

He didn't need Chen Hong to remind him.

In his past life, he had seen too many similar border posts—where the law could not reach, the rule was the survival of the fittest.

The line was nearing the closing gate.

Only when you get close can you see the details of the city wall clearly.

The stone slabs were covered with marks of chisels and axes, as well as large patches of charred fire damage. The city gate was constructed from a single piece of ironwood covered with iron sheets, so heavy it was suffocating. Above the gate hung three large, weathered characters: Ghost Cry Pass.

The words were dark red, as if written in blood.

Two rows of guards stood at the city gate, their armor worn and tattered, but their eyes fierce. Upon seeing Chen Hong's troops, a group of men with thick beards approached to meet them.

"Captain Chen, you're back?"

"Old Zhang," Chen Hong dismounted, took out a document from his pocket and handed it over, "The person has been delivered."

The officer took the document, glanced at it, and his gaze fell on Lin Chen.

He looked her up and down.

The look in his eyes wasn't like he was looking at a person, but rather like he was looking at a piece of merchandise, or... a piece of livestock waiting to be slaughtered.

"Case number seventeen, Class A," the squad leader read from the document, "Lin Chen. Crime: Colluding with foreign tribes, plotting rebellion. Sentence: Exiled to Guiku Pass, to guard the border for eternity."

He closed the document, grinned, revealing a set of yellow teeth: "Another 'hero'."

The surrounding guards burst into laughter.

Lin Chen dismounted calmly.

His legs felt a little weak, but he held on.

"Follow me." The captain turned and walked towards the pass. "Captain Chen, the handover is complete. You can go collect your reward now."

Chen Hong glanced at Lin Chen with a complicated expression, but ultimately said nothing and led his men in another direction.

Lin Chen followed the group as they entered the city gate.

The doorway was long and dark.

Footsteps echoed through the empty corridor, accompanied by the sound of water droplets dripping from above. The air was thick with a stench of mold, blood, and sweat, a smell that, if inhaled for too long, was nauseating.

After passing through the doorway, a bright and open space suddenly appeared before me.

The area inside the pass is larger than I imagined.

The streets were made of rammed earth, full of potholes and saturated with snowmelt from the previous days. On both sides were low mud houses and wooden sheds, some with tattered signs—taverns, blacksmith shops, general stores.

There weren't many pedestrians, mostly soldiers in worn-out uniforms. They squatted in small groups along the street, their eyes either numb or fierce. Many cast scrutinizing glances at Lin Chen, this unfamiliar face.

"What are you looking at!" the team leader roared. "Get back to work!"

The people dispersed lazily, but their eyes still lingered on Lin Chen.

After walking for about fifteen minutes, we arrived at an even more dilapidated area.

This place resembled a corner of a military camp, with dilapidated mud houses, many of which were already half-collapsed. Garbage and excrement were piled up on the open ground, and flies buzzed around.

"arrive."

The team stopped in front of the largest mud house and lifted the tattered straw curtain hanging at the door.

The room was dark.

Once his eyes adjusted to the light, Lin Chen could see clearly—it was a large communal room with two rows of earthen beds on either side, covered with blackened straw. A dozen or so people were sitting or lying on the beds, all dressed in rags and with gaunt faces.

Hearing the noise, everyone looked over.

There was no welcome in their eyes, only wariness, indifference, and a hint of... schadenfreude?

"New guy," the team leader pointed to an empty seat near the door, "Number 17, Class A. You'll be sleeping there from now on. The rules are simple: be obedient, work hard, and don't cause trouble."

He paused, then added, "Starting tomorrow, you'll be assigned to the third scout team. You'll be called to duty at dawn; if you're late, you'll receive fifty strokes of the cane."

After saying that, he turned and left.

The straw curtain fell, and the room darkened again.

Lin Chen walked to the empty seat.

The so-called "bed" was just a thin layer of straw on a kang (a heated brick bed), which was damp and smelled musty. He reached out and touched it, his fingertips getting covered in a layer of black ash.

"Hehe, new here?"

A hoarse voice came from the other side.

Lin Chen looked up.

The speaker was a thin, old man with gray hair and a face full of wrinkles and scars. He was sitting cross-legged on the kang (a heated brick bed), wiping a rusty short knife with a tattered cloth.

"What's your name?" the old man asked.

"Lin Chen".

"What did you do?"

Lin Chen paused for a moment: "Treason."

A few snickers came from inside the room.

"Treason?" The old man chuckled, revealing a toothless mouth. "Eight out of ten people who come here claim to be innocent. But..."

He put down his knife, narrowed his eyes, and stared at Lin Chen: "Looking at your delicate skin, you really do look like you came from one of those noble families in the capital. What, did you offend someone?"

Lin Chen didn't answer and sat down on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed).

"Fine, if you don't want to talk about it, then don't." The old man didn't mind. "My name is Zhao Tiegu, and I've been here for seven years. From now on, we'll be working together, so if you need anything... you can ask me."

Seven years.

Lin Chen's heart skipped a beat.

Anyone who can survive for seven years in the Ghost Cry Pass scout camp is no ordinary person.

"Old Zhao," he began, "that squad leader just said he'd be assigned to the scout battalion tomorrow. What...what's the scout battalion for?"

The smile on Zhao Tiegu's face faded.

He picked up the short knife and continued wiping it, lowering his voice: "Kid, there are three classes of people at Ghost Cry Pass. The first class are the regular border soldiers, guarding the city walls and receiving pay. The second class are auxiliary soldiers, doing odd jobs and barely surviving. The third class..."

He paused, the blade flashing coldly in the dim light: "It's a scout battalion formed from us convicts."

"What are we doing? Leaving the pass, scouting the way, and investigating the movements of the demons. If we encounter a small group, we have to fight. If we encounter a large group... we have to run. If we can't escape, we die."

The room fell silent.

Everyone else kept their heads down and no one spoke.

"What is the mortality rate?" Lin Chen asked.

Zhao Tiegu raised his head, glanced at him, and slowly uttered two words: "Seventy percent."

70%.

Ten went out, and three came back.

Lin Chen remained silent.

He knew the border was dangerous, but he didn't expect it to be... this dangerous.

"Scared?" Zhao Tiegu laughed, a bitter laugh. "Scared is useless. Once you're here, don't even think about leaving alive. You'll either die in the mouth of demons, or die on the battlefield, or..."

He didn't finish speaking.

But Lin Chen understood.

They'll either die at the hands of "their own people."

"Get some rest today," Zhao Tiegu lay down, wrapping the tattered blanket around himself. "Starting tomorrow, you'll be in for a rough time."

Snoring gradually filled the room.

Lin Chen also lay down.

The straw was prickly, and the musty smell was pungent. But he didn't move; he just kept his eyes open, staring at the sliver of sunlight filtering through the roof.

On his chest, the blood sacrifice jade felt slightly warm.

Current lifespan reserve: 15 years

[Estimated repair time for a shattered dantian: Over 10,000 years of lifespan]

Ten thousand years.

Lin Chen closed his eyes.

Then... I'll save up slowly.

Let's start tomorrow.

It all begins at this Ghost Cry Pass, this scout camp, this perilous place where nine out of ten will die.

Outside the window, the sound of horns could be heard from the distant city walls.

Desolate, lingering.

It's like sending off a deceased soul.