If I made you a special forces soldier, would you become a terrestrial god?

As the thin mist in the Kunlun Valley is painstakingly torn apart by the first faint rays of dawn, a rhythm that does not belong to nature is revealed, yet carries the weight of mountains.

The rallying cry pierced the silence of the early morning, awakening this long-dormant land.

In just five minutes, the central training ground was teeming with people. Three thousand elite soldiers stood like rocks, each figure tightly wrapped in pure black special operations uniforms. The fabric was not an ordinary light- and radar-proof material; it seemed to devour all the light and noise around them, condensing the solemnity and coldness to the extreme.

Beneath the helmet, a black mask concealed his face, leaving only a pair of eyes. Those eyes were deep and intense, yet they also concealed an undisguised killing intent. It was a fanaticism, but also a resolute calmness to the extreme.

There are no ranks, no armbands, not even the most common identification marks. They do not represent any individual. At this moment, they are ghosts, demons, death gods who climb up from the depths of hell to reap sins, the most terrifying of all.

The most striking feature was the Tang sword slung diagonally across each of their backs. It wasn't standard equipment from an industrial assembly line; each one was personally supervised by Su Chen and rushed to production by the research department. The scabbard was as black as ink, the guard as cold as ice, and the alloy blade, repeatedly tempered with internal force, gleamed with a faint, chilling light.

For these warriors who have reached the Grandmaster level, or even the Immortal Realm, ordinary firearms are merely auxiliary weapons. Only the longsword in their hands can bear their long-accumulated anger and their deep-seated hatred, becoming the best blade to vent their emotions and sever their nemesis.

They carry the latest high-explosive grenades on their waists and specially made large-caliber pistols on their sides. Apart from that, they have no bulky exoskeletons or tactical vests, because their flesh and blood are Kunlun's strongest shield, and their true energy is the core power that drives everything.

The entire training ground was so quiet it was suffocating; apart from the barely perceptible sound of the morning breeze brushing against the ranks, there was no other noise.

However, this silence was not emptiness; it was the synchronized breathing of three thousand people, which converged into a deep rumble, rolling invisibly like wind and thunder, and condensing into a powerful aura that made it hard to breathe.

Su Chen walked slowly toward the podium. He was also dressed in black, and his short cape swayed slightly in the morning breeze, making his figure appear even more upright. His expression was calm, but his eyes held a sharp edge like a knife.

Du Feifei and Long Xiaoyun followed closely behind. Du Feifei had her medicine box by her side, and Long Xiaoyun's soft sword trembled slightly at her waist. Wherever the three of them went, the air seemed to be pressed down by the extreme energy fluctuations, almost stagnating, with slight ripples.

Su Chen stopped in front of the stage. His gaze was sharp and penetrating, a deep insight that reached the soul. Every warrior hidden behind a black mask, their face and their heartbeat were clearly visible in Su Chen's perception. It was determination, resolve, and even more so... unconditional trust in him.

"Chief of Staff Miao." He turned his head, his tone steady yet carrying immense power.

Miao Zhiyuan stood on the flank, dressed in military uniform, his face solemn, yet unable to contain his excitement. He knew the heavy responsibility he bore on his journey to the Kunlun base; it was a symbol of the entire Dragon Nation's military spirit, and he could not afford to fail.

"Commander, please give the order!" The voice was firm and resolute, carrying the unique crispness of a soldier.

Su Chen nodded, looking directly at Miao Zhiyuan.

"Take good care of your home."

"No matter which villainous party dares to spy on this place."

"Simply eliminate them; no reporting is required."

His voice was deep and powerful.

"Until the day of our triumphant return."

"I want a victory celebration banquet."

"The flames spread across the mountains and fields, burning away all the darkness."

"To illuminate this land!"

Miao Zhiyuan's eyes were slightly red, his Adam's apple bobbed violently, and finally, it all culminated in a thunderous response:

"Please rest assured, Commander!"

"As long as Kunlun is here, the base will remain!"

"We will never retreat!"

Su Chen said no more. He turned around abruptly, his black cloak billowing in the air like a silent black lightning bolt. He swung his hand forward with a swift and decisive motion.

"Everyone has it!"

The sound was like a booming bell, echoing through the valley.

"Target: Dalian Military Base in Northeast China!"

"Boarding!"

"yes!"

The roar was deafening, shaking the heavens. Three thousand black-clad warriors responded to the call and moved in perfect unison without the slightest hesitation. They surged toward the tarmac like a black torrent, a scene resembling a black storm spreading rapidly across the ground, heading straight for the large transport plane formation that was already waiting.

One after another, giant iron birds roared with engines, tearing apart the last vestiges of tranquility in the Kunlun Valley. Flames erupted wildly from their tails, announcing the imminent departure of a long-distance flight.

Zhuang Yan's figure swept past the medical area. He didn't look back, but deep in his mind, Lin Xiaoying's bright eyes were clearly reflected. They were the only remaining tenderness he had before he set off.

At this moment, all tenderness was suppressed, leaving only the resolute determination to die and the overwhelming hatred of settling scores with the past.

Before boarding the cabin, He Chenguang unconsciously gripped the hilt of the Tang sword in his arms. Lin Xiaoxiao's voice echoed in his ears. That concern became the protection he pointed at with his sword, and also the reason why he could not fall. He vowed to return in triumph and keep the promise of braised pork.

Gao Dazhuang and several other powerful figures at the level of terrestrial immortals had already boarded the lead plane. Like the backbone of this expeditionary force, they used their powerful aura to suppress the fervor that was about to erupt in the cabin, preparing for the upcoming bloody battle.

One plane after another took off, casting huge shadows on the ground like a black curtain, obscuring the dawn over Kunlun and symbolizing the official start of an operation that would cover the heavens and the earth.

Sitting in the swaying cabin, Su Chen felt the violent tremors beneath him. It wasn't just the roar of the plane; it felt as if the entire land of China was growling beneath him, uttering a silent cry.

Du Feifei held his hand tightly, her warm palm conveying unspoken trust and support. Long Xiaoyun closed her eyes to regulate her breathing. Although she appeared calm, the barely perceptible sword aura emanating from the soft sword at her waist revealed the sharp edge that was ready to be unleashed deep within her heart.

Through the porthole, he looked down at the Kunlun base receding into the distance. The fortress, symbolizing the pinnacle of martial arts in the Dragon Kingdom, was gradually shrinking from his sight.

"The first step of the expedition has begun."

He murmured to himself, his voice barely audible, yet it stirred up a storm within him, his gaze fixed on the distant north.

That place is Dalian.

Dalian is not just a geographical coordinate, but also the first stop for the Dragon Kingdom to bare its fangs. It marks a counterattack that has been waited for and prepared for too long.

At this moment, inside the Dalian military base, countless staff members are working intensively to prepare for war, and the entire system is operating at high speed.

This is not just a battle of the Kunlun Division. It is the first trigger that the entire Dragon Kingdom is quietly pulling in order to wash away a century of humiliation and to comfort the spirits of countless martyrs. Beneath that trigger lies the indomitable will of hundreds of millions of people, the raging fury of an abyss dragon after it awakens and burns everything. Clouds whizz past the wings, as if draping this black ghost legion in a sacred veil.

They traversed thousands of miles of rivers and mountains, approaching the target shrouded in historical blood debts every minute and every second. The anger that had been accumulating for a century would finally erupt the moment the blade pointed at them.

Pointing the finger at the Koreans.

Blood sacrifice to the heroic spirits.

This battle is destined to remind the world of that forgotten yet never truly dissipated fear—the unprecedented fear of being dominated by the Eastern dragon.