The battlefield is hell.

Used countless times in literature as a comparison for war, Xiang Ling now prefers to imagine herself in the midst of the hellish scene rather than in some mythical concept. After all, the reality she is experiencing now is a bloody and gruesome truth that no ordinary person could bear.

The camp is surrounded by raging fires after intense combat. Xiang Ling mechanically pulls the sword out of the bodies of her enemies, shoves aside the corpses, and wipes away the warm blood that has splattered on her face countless times.

The Grassland tribes ambushed the returning scouts outside the camp with the help of their shaman, bringing at least three times the number of Grassland cavalry as they had advancing to the camp.

There are still sounds of fighting outside the camp. The soldiers of the Jiangdong army, worthy of the title of the Empire's first Iron Army, fight fiercely to the last moment, even non-combatants in a vanguard camp firmly holding weapons until the end. The Grassland tribes, who outnumbered them in the surprise attack, are now somewhat discouraged after suffering heavy losses and are eventually pushed back by the defending forces after a half-hour skirmish around the collapsed camp walls.

The battle is fierce, but the outcome is completely acceptable to the Jiangdong army. A scout cavalry, an infantry battalion, and an auxiliary unit ultimately defended the advancing camp and severely crippled the attacking tribe. For a Grassland court that relies on tribal alliances as the composition of its army, this means forcing the tribe to withdraw from the battlefield.

Xiang Ling has survived this major battle with credit for providing intelligence in advance to prepare the camp and for her outstanding performance on the battlefield. She anticipates the recognition she will receive when she returns to the Yanmen Pass fortress, which will be a good starting point for her promotion.

But Xiang Ling doesn't care.

Right now, all she sees is Little Seven lying beside her, no longer breathing or with a heartbeat. She has an arrow pierced through her chest and left leg, a large gruesome wound on her back, and her eyes closed as if sleeping.

Step by step, Xiang Ling walks towards Little Seven. The sounds of the wind, collapsing tents, and fighting fade into the distance. There is no need to worry about potential enemies attacking from behind; she can already envision the next developments. The Grassland tribes retreat, reinforcements from the Jiangdong army arrive, and the troops rebuild the forward camp and replace the existing garrison.

Afterwards, she will be promoted to the position of squad cavalry leader and begin a legendary journey that others may envy.

All that is happening here is an indisputable fact that exists only in her memories.

Actually, upon further reflection, isn't it quite normal for a child who had no special skills and only came to the frontline border troops to escape the life-threatening struggles of street fights and beggars for a copper coin and half a steamed bun, to die in such cruel battles?

If she hadn't come along, Little Seven would still be living a life of uncertainty, always worrying about the next meal, but at least she wouldn't have died like this. Xiang Ling did nothing wrong.

No, perhaps her thoughts were the same back then as they are now? Unwilling to remain in that difficult environment, even if she didn’t know whether she was heading towards redemption or a more cruel world, she had no regrets.

But in this world, there is no possibility of redemption for Little Seven, for herself who once witnessed her mother's death powerless, and for the countless people struggling to survive in the mud. There is no redemption.

Xiang Ling kneels slowly beside Little Seven, gently touching her now cold hand with her right hand. The overwhelming sense of guilt washes over her with tears streaming down from her eyes, leaving white marks on her blood-stained cheeks, dropping heavily onto Little Seven's hand.

Although the feeling of crying during those times in the slums had gradually numbed her, so much so that she could maintain a calm demeanor even as tears flowed uncontrollably, the pain in her heart was something she could not resist.

"Have you seen enough?" Xiang Ling took a deep breath, suddenly raised her head and shouted towards the sky. With this shout, the surrounding scenery inexplicably turned into black and white, the rising smoke, falling wood, flickering flames, everything was frozen in that moment.

"Do you realize it?" A somewhat tender voice of a young girl echoed from all directions.

"Of course." Xiang Ling stood up in the black and white gray scene, "And peeping into memories is not a polite thing to do."

"If you care about it, I can apologize." The words were spoken, but there was no hint of apology in the girl's voice, or perhaps her tone showed no emotional fluctuations.

"...No need." Xiang Ling shook her head, "Not appearing? Or do those who call themselves immortal gods like to look down on the world from high above?"

"No." Suddenly, a black and white ink-like mass appeared in front of Xiang Ling, quickly dispersing like ink dropped in water, and a black-haired, white-clothed girl stepped out, leaving only a line barefoot above the ground.

"I am still learning human etiquette, and I have not found the relevant content in the inherited memories."

"Learning?" Xiang Ling was slightly surprised. The immortal spirit presented before her at this moment seemed different from the one that had just violently destroyed a large area of the city while battling with Kongming outside.

"Of course, in human understandable terms, 'I' am just a newborn baby."

The girl tilted her head and said, "I have a lot to learn."

"A human baby in human terms is not a creature that can destroy a vast area of the city with a casual attack like The Realm-level monster shortly after birth." Xiang Ling said bluntly.

"Because someone attacked me first. Of course, my control over power is still insufficient, so I can apologize."

It seemed that in her concept, regardless of the situation, a bow and apology could solve everything.

Xiang Ling gave up arguing with her, "Alright, then... how should I address you?"

The girl thought for a moment, "Minglin. My memories come from her, so let's go with that name."

It seemed that Kongming was not wrong after all. What stood in front of her now was no longer the confused immortal but a newly born deity with supreme power.

"Where is this?"

"Within your body, the consciousness space I created."

With a wave of her hand, the surroundings disintegrated into countless fine points of light, dissipating like fireworks in the night sky.

"You are quite at home in my body." Standing in the consciousness space after the scenery faded, Xiang Ling found it strangely similar to the starry The Realm environment Xingjian had shown earlier. A dark environment with a transparent, crystal-like ground underfoot.

"I am in a spiritual state and do not have the ability to resist that array... In human terms, this seems to be considered an invitation, right?"

This statement seemed to make sense, and for a moment, Xiang Ling found herself unable to refute it.

"So, human—"

"Xiang Ling. My name is Xiang Ling." Xiang Ling interrupted the girl, "In human etiquette, repeatedly addressing with 'human human' is not polite."

"Alright, Xiang Ling... Xiaoling, well, someone seemed to have used a similar nickname for me before, it seems like an intimate way of addressing." The girl nodded.

Upon hearing this address, Xiang Ling's pupils dilated, and the two familiar faces she had just revisited in the girl's constructed memory space flashed before her eyes once again.

She acquiesced to the girl's way of addressing her.

"So, getting back to my question, Xiaoling, why did you invite me here? What do you want?"

"Power," Xiang Ling replied. "As a spirit without a physical body, even the immense power of a true immortal is but a drop in the ocean to you. I propose a deal. You stay within my body, and in return, you must give me the power that belongs to the gods."

"Sounds like quite an unfavorable deal, doesn't it?"

After a moment of contemplation, the girl extended a finger and said, "Of course, you are right. I do need a body, and yours can accommodate me... but I have one additional condition."

"What I received from 'Minglin' was not just memories, but also her emotions. Although not firsthand, her confusion and abhorrence towards humans still affect me..."

"I refuse."

Cutting off the girl before she could finish, Xiang Ling firmly declined, "This is my country. I have not forgiven you for destroying half of a city and killing countless of my people, let alone granting your wish."

The girl seemed puzzled. "Why? What I saw in your memories... It seems like you have not had an easy life in this world. The person who killed your mother, the cavalryman who killed your friend, the decadent nobility... and this country that caused all this suffering, don't you detest them?"

"Of course, I do," Xiang Ling met the girl's gaze squarely. "That's why I will punish them... I will change this country, make those who deserve to pay, pay, and prevent future generations from enduring such pain. That's why I need your power."

"You can also choose to possess my body directly. If you choose to do so, I will fight you to the bitter end."

"..."

In what seemed like a small yet endless space of consciousness, the girl fell into a prolonged silence.

In the end, as if resigning herself, she revealed a smile of acceptance and made her choice.

"I'm very interested."

...

On that day, the residents of Luo Jing were like small rafts tossed into a surging giant wave, uncertain and unstable, but fortunately, after that day, the storm returned to calm.

They did not know that the massive crack in the earth, once considered the "catastrophe of a millennium," almost turned into a great human disaster.

They also did not know that on that day, a new "god" came into existence in this world.

Or rather, a person on the verge of becoming a god.

After all, for most people, these events were still too distant. All they had to do now was to mourn the tens of thousands of victims fallen by Minglin's hand and be grateful for their own survival while celebrating their fortune.

"Cheers to the birth of the new god."

On the second floor of a small post station ten miles outside Luo Jing, Yuan raised a toast towards the direction of Luo Jing.