Dual-wielding! 100x proficiency, I'll grind my way to godhood!

Of the two thousand soldiers, nearly half were killed or wounded.

The mountains and fields were littered with corpses. The remaining people fled back on all fours, leaving behind helmets and spiked clubs along the way.

The air is thin on the plateau, and your chest will ache after running just a few steps, but no one dares to stop, for fear that if they slow down even a step, they will be overtaken by the menacing creature behind them.

Singh fled with the crowd, having lost his military cap. His hair was a mess, plastered to his forehead, and he kept glancing back, his face as white as paper.

Two hundred Chinese soldiers chased after them at an astonishing speed, their strides as fast as if they were taking a walk on flat ground.

The soldier at the front caught up with a fleeing soldier in a few steps, and swung his spiked club hard, hitting him squarely on the back.

The man flew out with a "thud," his face hitting the rock, and he died instantly.

The screams echoed for miles along the mountain road.

From the start of the battle to the pursuit and annihilation, none of the two thousand Indian soldiers were capable of fighting; two hundred soldiers carried out a one-sided massacre as easily as cutting melons and vegetables.

Ye Jingge stared at Singh's back and caught up with him in a few breaths.

Singh heard a strange sound behind him and was about to turn around when Ye Jingge swung his spiked club, hitting him squarely on the shin.

"Snap!"

The sharp crack was followed by a heart-wrenching scream.

Singh collapsed to the ground, clutching his broken leg and rolling around on the floor, his face contorted in pain, tears and snot streaming down his face.

Ye Jingge reached out and grabbed him by the back of his collar, dragging him back with one hand like he was carrying a dead dog.

Dragging him back to an open area at the mountain pass, Ye Jingge casually tossed him to the ground. It took Singh a long time to recover before he struggled to kneel up. When he looked up and saw Chen Mo standing in front of him with a cigarette in his mouth, he trembled in fright, quickly put his hands together, and kowtowed repeatedly.

"General, spare me! General Ye, spare me!"

He begged for mercy in broken Chinese.

"I have a wife and kids at home; I'm just a gofer!"

"It was all an order from the Black House! They provided the intelligence too! It's all their fault! I was just following orders, it has nothing to do with me!"

Chen Mo took a drag of his cigarette, looked down at him, and gave a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, speaking in a flat tone.

"You think I don't know these things?"

Singh's kowtow suddenly froze, and he looked up with a blank expression.

"You think the intelligence the Black Palace has is true?"

Chen Mo flicked off his cigarette ash.

"To tell you the truth, the intelligence that Black Palace received was deliberately given to them by me. The ambush point where you spent five hours was chosen by me. And the fact that you two thousand men gathered here was also something I lured here step by step."

He paused, watching Singh's eyes widen little by little, his pupils shrinking smaller and smaller, before continuing.

"The reason I brought you here today is quite simple; it boils down to two things."

"First, today we'll settle accounts with you for all the soldiers who died in border conflicts over the years, with interest. Second, my soldiers have been training for half a month, so I'll use you as a test to see how they're doing."

Singh froze.

He stared at the long-haired young man in front of him, his mind completely blank.

This is the person!

He had previously joked with his adjutant that this pretty boy had delicate skin and tender flesh, and that he should be taken back to wash socks.

So everything that happened today was this person's scheme?

Two thousand of them came in a grand procession, not to surround and kill, but to deliberately walk into a trap and deliver themselves to their deaths.

"No...it's impossible..."

Singh's lips trembled, and he could barely speak.

"The Black Palace's intelligence... how could it be false? You're deliberately lying to me."

Chen Mo didn't reply, just stared at him like he was an idiot.

Singh's body began to tremble uncontrollably, starting from his fingertips, moving to his shoulders, and then spreading throughout his entire body.

He turned to look at the corpses of his compatriots scattered all over the mountains and fields, and at the gruesome deaths of the Black Cat team members, a chill ran from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.

A heat rose in his crotch, and a pungent, foul odor filled the air.

He completely broke down, and instead of begging for mercy, he roared with red eyes.

"You dare kill me! A full-scale war will break out on our border! Can you bear the responsibility?! Our country will not let you get away with this!"

Chen Mo threw the cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it out with the toe of his foot.

"If you dare to come, I'll kill as many as you come!"

Ye Jingge smirked and looked down at Singh.

"It seems you've forgotten that war from back then!"

Singh opened his mouth but could not utter another word.

Ye Jingge raised his spiked club high and brought it down hard.

With a muffled "plop".

Singh's head exploded like a rotten watermelon, splattering red and white matter all over the ground.

The wind swept across the mountain pass, carrying the stench of blood far away.

Two hundred soldiers returned to their unit one after another, standing amidst the corpses scattered on the ground. No one spoke, and no one cheered.

They hadn't noticed it when they were in the heat of the moment, but now that they had stopped, their hands, faces, and clothes were covered in blood, and the strong smell of blood filled their noses, leaving them all somewhat dazed.

A new recruit sat on a rock, staring down at his hands.

These hands had just been wielding a spiked club, smashing the heads of more than a dozen people; their strength was so great that even he was afraid of it.

Now he stopped, his fingers began to tremble slightly, and his face turned frighteningly pale.

Several veterans squatted by the rocks nearby and suddenly vomited, throwing up all the steamed buns and porridge they had eaten that morning. After vomiting, they sat there panting, their eyes glazed over.

Wang Zhu, a veteran in the front row, stood next to an Indian soldier's corpse, looking down at the spiked club in his hand.

His thumb slowly rubbed the faint engraving on the handle; it bore the name of his class monitor.

The return journey in the military vehicle was very quiet.

Ye Jingge walked beside Chen Mo and remained silent for a long time before speaking.

"If this training method can be promoted throughout the army, no one will dare to cause trouble on the border in the future."

Chen Mo shook his head upon hearing this.

"Not now, the pills can't keep up."

"My stockpile can support the cultivation of these two hundred people at any time, but with millions of soldiers in the entire army, the required number of pills is astronomical."

"I'll talk about other things after I get back and build the herb cultivation base and the automated alchemy production line."

Ye Jingge nodded and didn't bring it up again.

He knew he couldn't rush things; having these two hundred people as seeds was already a huge surprise.

Back at their base, Ye Jingge led his men to tally the results of the battle and handle the aftermath.

Chen Mo didn't follow; he went back to his room, took out a cigarette, and lit it.

He took out his phone and sent a message to Ghost, attaching all of Jiang Yi's information and address.

The terms are simple: come to China and take care of Jiang Yi; the commission is five million US dollars.

He then remembered Zhao Peng, glanced at Naga's chat history, and saw that Zhao Peng was dead, tortured beyond recognition before his death.

After watching it, he put his phone on the table and slowly smoked.

I finished a cigarette, and my phone vibrated.

Chen Mo took it out and looked at it; there were only two words on the screen.

receive!

Chen Mo put his phone away and flicked away his cigarette butt.

The border issue is now completely resolved.

It's time to go back to Hangzhou.

Chen Mo felt a faint sense of anticipation.

His genetic biotechnology and mechanical technology have long been mastered.

He was fully confident that he could cultivate top-grade medicinal herbs that were suitable for Grandmaster-level cultivation and would have double the medicinal effects when he returned!