Chapter 63: Overlord Nerve

Warm water vapor filled the tent as Zhao Ergou immersed himself in a wooden barrel, closing his eyes to rest. What sheer bliss!

He picked up a bath towel and vigorously scrubbed every inch of his skin. Those dried blood crusts and layers of filth were washed entirely clean beneath his iron-like hands!

Crucial memories of the battlefield? What were those? Chen Ergou fancied himself a born god of war; he was the only one who left psychological shadows on others!

The water gradually turned a dark red, looking remarkably like the small river stained crimson with blood on the battlefield.

Looking at the reddened water, Zhao Ergou hooked the corners of his mouth into an arrogant arc. This was the color a real man ought to have!

After his bath, Zhao Ergou began tending to his wounds. Ranging from large to small, they crisscrossed his body, looking fearsomely ghastly. Yet Ergou felt they were proof of his unmatched valor!

He picked up a clean strip of cloth, dipped it in fiery liquor, and applied it straight to his wounds without even blinking.

The stinging pain of strong liquor? That was nothing! Chen Ergou did not even frown. Fine beads of sweat seeped across his forehead.

Having dressed his wounds, Zhao Ergou put on his clothes and strode out of the tent with the confident gait of a dragon and the stride of a tiger!

Dinner was already prepared. Simple food, yet it exuded an alluring aroma.

At the sight of it, Zhao Ergou instantly perked up. These were prime provisions for recovering his energy!

He devoured the meal wolfishly, as if determined to replenish every ounce of physical strength he had expended over the past few days. Although the fare was simple, in Zhao Ergou's mouth, it tasted far more delectable than culinary delicacies from land and sea!

After finishing his meal, Zhao Ergou wiped his mouth, swaggered toward the squad leader's tent with a stride and an aura so haughty he looked as though he cared for no one in the world!

"Uncle, I'm here!"

Standing at the entrance of the tent, Zhao Ergou let out a roar that shook the surrounding countryside, instantly shattering the quietude inside.

"If you're here, get inside!"

The squad leader's familiar voice came from within the tent, low and powerful.

Zhao Ergou unceremoniously lifted the curtain and stepped in.

Qian Dashan was also there, sitting in a corner and wiping his long saber. Under the flickering firelight, the blade gleamed with a chilling light.

However, Zheng Qian was nowhere to be seen, replaced instead by a few unfamiliar faces. These new recruits had just been assigned to the squad leader's command; each and every one of them was robust and sturdy, their eyes filled with yearning for the future.

"Where is Zheng Qian?"

Zhao Ergou swept his gaze across the room, failed to spot Zheng Qian, and asked directly. His tone carried a hint of confusion, but even more of the overbearing attitude that said, "I care about you, so you'd better answer quickly."

Qian Dashan raised his head, looked at Zhao Ergou, and a trace of melancholy flashed through his eyes. He spoke slowly, his voice low and hoarse: "He's dead!"

Those two short words struck Zhao Ergou's heart like a heavy hammer!

Dead? That blockhead was dead! Chen Ergou had still been waiting for him to charge into battle at his side—how could he just be dead?!

Although a trace of displeasure arose in his heart, Zhao Ergou's face retained its expression of "I am number one under heaven."

He thought of Wu Bu'er, that brave fellow who had fought so fiercely on the battlefield, who was now lying in the wounded soldiers' camp with his fate hanging in the balance.

Two brothers—one died on the battlefield, the other gravely wounded. Wasn't this destiny a bit too cruel?

Cruel my foot! In these chaotic times, human life was worthless to begin with! If they died, they could only blame themselves for lacking skill!

Now, the people he was most familiar with were reduced to just the squad leader, Qian Dashan, and Sun Liu. And Sun Liu now belonged to his command, having become a fierce warrior under him.

That was more like it. Sun Liu at least had some eye for talent!

"Life and death are determined by fate; Brother Ergou need not grieve. For soldiers like us, dying on the battlefield is our destined fate after all."

Qian Dashan's voice rang out once more, breaking the silence inside the tent. He attempted to comfort Zhao Ergou, but his words also revealed a trace of helplessness and desolation.

Zhao Ergou nodded impatiently and said, "Alright, alright, I know. Dead is dead, what's the big deal! I was still waiting for them to achieve greatness and bring honor to their ancestors! Now look at this, I have to worry about them instead!"

Over these past few days, he had grown accustomed to life and death; he was no longer the green, inexperienced kid he used to be. Yet, upon hearing the news that someone familiar had died in battle, a pang of grief still involuntarily twisted his heart.

"Follow me!"

Looking at Zhao Ergou, the squad leader spoke indifferently. His voice pulled Zhao Ergou out of his "sadness."

Following the squad leader, Zhao Ergou stepped into the inner chamber of the tent.

"Uncle, what is it? So secretive. Out with it already!"

Zhao Ergou said impatiently, his tone tinged with both annoyance and eagerness.

The squad leader drew an ancient manual from his bosom and handed it to it Zhao Ergou.

"I obtained this secret manual from a destitute beggar. The old beggar swore up and down that it is a peerless divine art—*The Overlord's Divine Classic*!" the squad leader said in a deep voice, his tone laden with solemnity.

"I have studied this book for half a lifetime, yet I have never been able to comprehend its threshold. Now I pass it to you, hoping you may gain some insight and achieve greatness." The squad leader gazed at Zhao Ergou, his eyes brimming with earnest anticipation.

Taking the ancient manual, Zhao Ergou saw four large characters inscribed on the cover: *The Overlord's Divine Classic!*

At a single glance, those four characters looked as though someone had written them by hand—crooked, twisted, and hideously ugly. They were even harder to look at than the chicken-scratch handwriting of a primary school student from his past life.

The entire ancient book exuded an aged aura, making anyone who looked at it instantly suspect it was a fake.

"Uncle, you bought this martial arts manual from an old beggar?"

Zhao Ergou looked at the squad leader with a facial expression that clearly asked, "Are you out of your mind?"

"That's right, it cost me one tael of silver!"

The squad leader nodded earnestly, as if this were a matter of immense pride.

"And then you, Uncle, practiced it for the better part of your life and didn't cultivate a single thing out of it?"

Zhao Ergou continued to ask, a hint of "you old fool" coloring his tone.

The squad leader nodded earnestly once more, his eyes filled with hope as he looked at Zhao Ergou, praying that Ergou could actually make something out of it so his one tael of silver wouldn't go to waste.

Zhao Ergou rolled his eyes internally, thinking: This old man really gets more muddle-headed the older he gets!

Still, *The Overlord's Divine Classic* sounded rather majestic and suited him quite well! He would reluctantly accept it!

"You brat, your martial arts talent is unquestionable—you are an absolute prodigy! Once-in-a-century!"

The squad leader lowered his voice and spoke mysteriously, as if sharing a monumental secret.

"That's why I'm passing *The Overlord's Divine Classic* on to you. You better practice hard! Once you master it, don't forget to teach this old man—otherwise, why would I have gone through all this trouble?"

The squad leader looked around cautiously, terrified that walls had ears, wearing the exact expression of a miser guarding his wealth.

"This is a Martial Saint-tier cultivation technique! Out in the world, it would trigger a scramble among countless powerhouses, and bloody storms would naturally follow!"

Hearing this, Zhao Ergou's blood instantly boiled!

Martial Saint tier? Wasn't that ridiculously awesome?

He truly was the chosen son of heaven; this technique was practically tailor-made for him!

Ecstasy surged in his heart, but he kept his expression calm, secretly resolving to master *The Overlord's Divine Classic*. When that time came, any so-called generals or commandants would have to step aside for him!

He recalled a movie he had seen in his past life, where a little boy used all his pocket money to buy a martial arts manual from a rambling old beggar. What was that manual called again? It seemed to be... *The Palm of the Buddha*?

Hah, *The Palm of the Buddha* was nothing! His *Overlord's Divine Classic* was number one under heaven!