Chương 115: Forging the Paw

The silence in the training yard was heavy, broken only by the ragged breathing of the forty-three men and women kneeling on the hard-packed earth. They were a motley collection of humanity's harder edges: scarred veterans, grim-faced rogues, and desperate youths who had seen too much of the world's cruelty. All of them knelt before the imposing figure of Xylia, their new commander, the magnificent crimson banner stirring silently beside her like a living thing.

Xylia's sapphire eyes, as cold and deep as a glacial crevasse, swept over her new recruits. She saw the greed, the desperation, the ambition, the fear, and the raw hunger for violence. They were wolves, and she was their alpha. Of the forty-three, only a handful had managed to break through to the Foundation Establishment realm; the vast majority were seasoned Qi Condensation fighters who had survived by their wits and ferocity.

"You kneel to the White Paw," her voice was a low growl, rough like stones grinding together.

"Your old lives are dirt. You belong to this banner. You belong to me. Fight for me, you get paid. You get strong. Cross me," a dangerous glint entered her eyes, "and I'll snap your spine myself. Got it?" A ragged, intimidated chorus of "Yes, Commander!" echoed across the yard.

"Good." She jabbed a finger at the grizzled, Mid-stage Foundation Establishment mercenary who had been the first to swear fealty.

"You. Huo Yan. You're in charge for now. Make 'em fight. I want to see who's weak." For the next hour, the yard was a whirlwind of motion and the clash of steel. Xylia watched from the steps of the central hall, her gaze missing nothing.

She saw the sloppy footwork and wasted movements, but she also saw sparks of potential: a wiry, Early-stage Foundation Establishment woman with two daggers named Lian, who moved with a viper's grace; a stoic, Early-stage Foundation Establishment young man with a spear named Jian, whose defense was nearly flawless; and a hulking man whose sheer power was astonishing. This last one was impossible to miss.

He was a mountain of a man named Gao Shan who fought with two massive, iron-studded gauntlets, pulverizing his opponents. A Mid-stage Foundation Establishment expert, he was one of only two at that level among the recruits, making him the strongest by a noticeable margin. Yet, as he fought, his eyes kept darting towards Xylia, a look of intense, reverent fascination on his face. He wasn't just looking at a commander; he was looking at an idol. When the spars were over, Xylia descended the steps.

"Huo Yan. Lian, Jian, and Gao Shan. Bring them here. The rest of you, ten laps around the compound. Now!" The three chosen cultivators stepped forward.

"You three. You're not completely useless," Xylia grunted, circling them like a predator. Her gaze landed on Gao Shan.

"You. You're big. And stupid. You swing like a drunken bear, all power and no thought. You'd die against anything fast." Gao Shan's broad chest puffed out, a wide, almost boyish grin spreading across his rugged face.

"Commander, this one's strength is his greatest weapon! It has never failed me!" He flexed a bicep thicker than a normal man's thigh.

"It is a strength born of admiration for true power. Like yours, Commander. To see a woman with such a magnificent, powerful build… it is an inspiration! A true goddess of war!" The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. The spearman and the dagger-wielding woman both took an involuntary step back. A visible flash of annoyance crossed Xylia's face, a tightening of her jaw.

Gao Shan's admiration was not lecherous; it was the honest, artless worship of a devotee of physical power. It was, in its own way, even more irritating than lust.

"You think that bulk makes you strong?" she sneered, her voice a low, dangerous challenge.

"Against anyone but you, Commander, yes!" he boomed confidently.

"Prove it. Hit me." Gao Shan's grin widened.

"As you wish, Commander!" He roared and charged, his iron gauntlets whistling through the air. To Xylia, it was pathetic. She didn't move. As his massive fist descended, she simply raised her own pale, slender hand, meeting his iron-clad fist with a resounding clang of metal on something far harder. A shockwave erupted. Gao Shan's confident expression vanished, replaced by pure shock. It felt like he had punched a mountain. Before he could recover, Xylia's fingers wrapped around his gauntlet. She squeezed.

There was a horrifying groan as the enchanted iron crumpled in her grip like wet paper. With a simple twist of her wrist, she threw him. The mountain of a man flew through the air and crashed into the far wall of the compound, which shuddered from the impact. He slid to the ground, dazed, staring at his crushed gauntlet and then back at Xylia with complete, soul-shaking awe.

"That," she snarled, gesturing at the crumpled Gao Shan, "is not strength. That is meat. Power without a brain is useless. Don't be useless." She spun on her heel.

"Huo Yan! Run them 'til they puke! Then run them again!" While Xylia forged her warriors, Kui was engaged in a different kind of recruitment. He sat behind his grand desk, sipping tea as he interviewed a middle-aged man for a caravan master position. The old turtle's eye for reliable, sensible talent was unerring. Feng Ling had found him a pool of candidates, but it was Kui who could see the solid core of competence within a person. After a thorough vetting, he hired an experienced man named Bao.

"Excellent! You're hired!" Kui's laughter boomed.

"You understand the first rule of the turtle: slow and steady wins the race! And protects the shell!" Later that afternoon, Xylia left the compound in Huo Yan's charge and took a walk through the city's markets. Her destination was the section that dealt in live beasts. Here, amidst the cages, she found two young cubs cowering in a small, rust-covered cage. They resembled bears, but their paws were slightly oversized and webbed, and their white fur had a sleek, water-repellent quality.

The placard called them "Glacial River Pups," a rare but generally weak hybrid beast. Xylia stared at them. They were creatures of ice, but she could sense a faint, almost diluted trace of water essence in their bloodline. She felt an unwelcome pang of kinship. She knew the Wise Host's sanctuary was for powerful aquatic life. These creatures were a borderline case, their bloodline more ice than water, and pathetically weak. They likely wouldn't be considered a valuable addition.

But the thought of leaving them here was… distasteful. She strode up to the stall, her presence alone making the merchant flinch.

"The bears. How much?" she bit out the words. The merchant, flustered by her intense aura, quickly stammered out the price. Xylia tossed a small pouch of spirit stones onto the counter that matched the amount exactly.

"Send them to the White Paw compound. Now." Her tone left no room for argument. She turned and walked away. It was an indulgence. But as she walked back, her plan formed. Their aquatic bloodline was weak, but it was a key. It would grant them entry. They would not be worthy of the grand lakes, but perhaps a remote, frozen stream high in the sanctuary's mountains would suit them. The Host was focused on powerful, pure-blooded species; he might not appreciate such... impurities.

She would have to introduce them quietly. It would be a test of his benevolence, to see if even the weakest creatures with a drop of the water's blessing were worthy of his protection.