Longevity by Picking up Attributes in the Battlefield Chapter 2: All Attributes Surpass 200! Another Treasure Box!
Previously on Longevity by Picking up Attributes in the Battlefield...
"Never before have I witnessed such a dedicated corpse carrier among the troops." Soldiers busy with pit-digging sighed emotionally, their eyes following Zhao Feng's departing silhouette.
Indeed, Zhao Feng brimmed with enthusiasm for the monumental duty of hauling bodies.
Back to the battlefield he went.
Comrades from the Army Marquis Camp couldn't resist mocking Zhao Feng, claiming he was born for corpse-hauling duties.
Zhao Feng merely grinned, staying silent.
True, he hadn't charged into city assaults with the Qin Army, yet logistics camp life held its perils—feigned-dead foes or sudden ambushes that could spell doom. With this prime chance to grow stronger now at hand, Zhao Feng vowed to grasp it firmly.
It echoed the old military proverb from future eras: "The more sweat in drills, the less blood spilled in war."
Fueled by this resolve, Zhao Feng boosted every attribute he could. Such gains formed the foundation of his endurance. Promotions and honors? He ignored them. Survival through his two-year term and a safe return home—that was his sole aim.
Reincarnated with historical foresight, so what? No royal blood, no noble lineage, no mighty clan backing. What lofty dreams could he chase? Qin's merit system boasted fairness, yet it demanded staking one's life for rewards!
’Touched Han Junhou, gained 5 Strength, 5 Speed, 5 Constitution, 5 Spirit, and 5 Lifespan.’
’First time collecting from the rank of Junhou, which carries National Destiny. Received one First Order Treasure Chest.’ The panel prompt popped up.
Joy instantly bloomed across Zhao Feng’s face at the sight.
"Open the Treasure Box," Zhao Feng commanded eagerly.
’Opened First Order Treasure Chest, obtained one [Inner Armor of Protection].’ The panel showed.
Excitement surged through Zhao Feng's thoughts.
Attributes plucked from the Han Junhou, plus that Treasure Box, fired up Zhao Feng's drive even further.
His gaze swept the field, hunting Han officers' corpses. He yearned for more ex-Han soldiers turned officers—their stats rivaled multiples of regular troops. Hauling a body toward the ox cart, Zhao Feng vigilantly eyed his environs.
Right then, Zhao Feng’s company Commander, aiding a handful of men in shifting corpses, neared a corpse mound ready to lift it when eyes abruptly flared open amid the pile. Spotting approaching Qin troops, the lurker's fingers stealthily clenched his sword grip.
As Qin soldiers closed in, the hidden Han fighter sprang up, sword stabbing out.
One swift stab impaled an unprotected logistics man, eliciting a piercing wail of torment. The Han warrior shoved him aside with a kick, yanking free his gore-smeared blade, then whirled savagely at the stunned logistics crew charging forth.
The abrupt assault stunned nearby battlefield cleaners.
Yet the head Commander swiftly regained composure, unsheathed his sword, bellowed, "Enemy! Weapons out—slay him!"
Nearby logistics troops swiftly assembled, blades drawn, eyes blazing. Logistics role or not, slaying foes opened promotion paths. Hauling dead was less deadly than frontlines, but fake-dead enemies lurked. Risky, yes—but prime for merit gains.
"Kill him!" bellowed the Commander.
Roughly a dozen Qin warriors surged at the Han fighter.
Nearby, Zhao Feng caught the spectacle too.
Post-epic clash, armored Sharp Warriors swept first, plainly thrusting final blows on foes to confirm demise. Logistics followed with double checks. This Han enduring so long? Utterly uncommon.
Seeing his dozen Pao Ze encircle the foe, hungry for the fatal strike and merit, Zhao Feng edged closer leisurely. No plans to vie for glory—the Han's end looked inevitable.
But Zhao Feng and fellow Qin troops misjudged the foe's savagery.
Eyes darting, he fixed on rear-directing Commander Wei Quan.
Exploding ahead, one slash felled the blocking Qin soldier, a kick propelled him, straight at the Commander he raced.
No mere Han grunt—this one targeted leaders smartly.
Composed Wei Quan lifted blade to counter. Blades met, but Han countered blindingly fast, parrying sharply before kicking viciously. Wei Quan yelped in agony, tumbling rearward to the dirt.
Bloodthirst flared in Han eyes. Two-handed sword grip, he hoisted high, smashing down at Wei Quan. Onrushing soldiers lagged behind.
Zhao Feng sensed dire peril. Delay meant death for his caring Commander.
Eyeing his sword, he assumed throwing form, flung with utmost force at the Han.
WHOOSH!
Razor edge sliced air, hurtling true to mark.
Moments before Han cleaved Wei Quan...
SQUELCH!
Han frame convulsed. Agony and defiance twisted his stare. Disbelieving, he gazed chestward—crimson sword jutting forth. His blade slipped from grasp, body swayed, then crumpled.
Before him, Wei Quan snatched from death's edge.
’Killed Han Wanjiang, gained 20 Strength, 20 Speed, 20 Constitution, 20 Spirit, and 20 Lifespan.’
’All attributes have surpassed 200. Received one First Order Treasure Chest.’ Panel notice flashed.
Astonishment gripped Zhao Feng at the view.
Then Wei Quan shook off near-demise shock, rose, knelt by his almost-killer. Rifling the waist, he extracted a military tag.
"Commander, you okay?"
"This Han soldier was too fierce."
"He slew two brothers of ours," a logistics soldier fumed, couldn't help booting the downed Han officer.
"He’s no ordinary Han soldier," Wei Quan declared, shock widening eyes on the tag.
Gazing at clustered troops, he boomed, "Who threw that sword?"