After that, Kang Jun focused his attention on his dantian and began drawing energy from it, spreading it in waves from the center of his abdomen throughout his entire body.
The Qi coating his body raised Kang Jun's strength to the level of two well-trained adult men. He clenched his fist and, feeling the surge of power, exhaled as his anxiety about survival faded into the background. Thanks to the knights in gray armor monitoring the camp, Kang Jun was able to calmly break through to a new level without being disturbed during his cultivation.
Kang Jun rose to his feet, realizing that he needed clean water and food.
Nearby stood dozens of barrels filled with water, with several people distributing it. These people were disabled—some lacked one or both arms, others were missing legs or eyes. They handled auxiliary tasks: cooking food, carrying water and supplies, and similar work.
At the water station, Kang Jun met a boy who had no left arm and could not speak.
"Hello. I'd like to wash," Kang Jun said.
The boy simply smiled and nodded. Thirty seconds later, a bucket of water and a rag sewn from torn clothing were placed in front of Kang Jun.
As Kang Jun scrubbed the black, foul-smelling grime from his body, he noticed hundreds of people once again gathering near the food distribution point. Picking up the pace, he joined the line himself thirty minutes later—clean, though his clothes were still damp.
After forming his core, Kang Jun's body was severely depleted and desperately needed nourishment to recover, so the food distribution came at the perfect time. His stomach growled like a starving beast, occasionally drawing the attention of those standing nearby.
After some time, Kang Jun finally filled his stomach, and the pain and nausea subsided. About an hour later, several knights shouted that night had fallen and it was time to sleep, as there would be a great deal of work the following day.
Kang Jun was even relieved at the opportunity to rest. He was given a minimal sleeping kit: something resembling a sack stuffed with herbs and feathers, a floor mat padded with unknown materials to prevent illness, and a thin blanket that barely protected against the cold.
Even these meager supplies were issued only to those without a home or rented lodging.
Most people were dismissed and ordered to return when the third torches were lit. Those who failed to return on time would be executed on the spot during the next inspection. From the memories of the boy who had previously inhabited this body, Kang Jun knew that he had never even enjoyed such conditions—he had simply slept on cold stone slabs.
Morning arrived.
Kang Jun awoke to the noise around him. Though it was morning, it was no different from night. Darkness enveloped everything, and only by lifting one's gaze could two glowing realms be seen, dimly illuminating the streets and squares of this place of death.
Everything repeated itself. First, everyone was fed and given time to study techniques and practice.
But today, after lunch, they were gathered together, briefed on the plan to defend the walls from attack, and divided into teams to practice rotating positions during battle.
"From what one of the knights told me, teams will rotate every thirty minutes and rest for three hours," Kang Jun muttered to himself. That was reasonable—people without Qi wouldn't last more than a few minutes in intense combat.
Kang Jun calculated that defending a four-kilometer wall would require approximately 23,345 people, assuming one person occupied two meters, and that each five-person squad had three in the vanguard and two in the rear. That resulted in 4,669 teams, with additional reserves needed to replace the dead or wounded.
That same day, new prisoners were delivered from the dungeons of the two kingdoms—mostly knights who had violated royal laws.
They were given a chance to cleanse their names on the battlefield, to prove their loyalty to the people. For each day of combat, their prison sentences were reduced by one month. Slightly over two hundred knights arrived, along with more than a thousand ordinary people who were introduced to this new reality—and judging by their expressions, they were far from pleased.
One of these knights was assigned to Kang Jun's team, as they were only sent to the weakest groups to minimize losses.
After six hours of training and basic self-defense instruction, they were sent to rest before dinner.
That was when Kang Jun had the chance to get to know his team more closely.
Everyone introduced themselves, and oddly enough, the knight spoke first. Though young—just over twenty—and brimming with enthusiasm, he was nothing like a typical convict.
"Greetings, everyone! My name is Trent Barlow. I am a Second-Circle Aura Master," the knight announced loudly, though it barely stood out against the surrounding noise.
The second was a man around twenty-five, as thin as Kang Jun himself.
"I'm Mark. Nice to meet you," he said quietly.
The third was a man in his thirties with yellowed teeth and a sly grin.
"I'm Lars—better known as the Bloody Reaper," he said. "A warning: try to kill me on the wall, and I'll kill all of you."He bared his teeth and stared straight at them, forcing Mark to lower his gaze to the stones beneath his feet.
Then it was Kang Jun's turn.
Everyone looked at him, waiting—but truthfully, he had no idea what his name was. He hadn't even reviewed the memories of this body yet. He sat in silence for several seconds until Lars lost patience and shouted:
"I remember you! You're Artas Darkbane—the son of that baron executed for treason. I remember—we were paid to protect you after you ended up here. I wouldn't have even recognized you if you hadn't washed up. Hah! A once-noble house that lost all authority after losing its aura-sword technique.
You meet all kinds in this cursed dungeon. I heard we never got the second half of the payment for protecting you, so now you work as our street informant just to stay alive. From now on, you'll listen to me. Got it?"
At first, his gaze was neutral—but then it turned into that of a snake ready to sink its fangs into its prey and inject venom.
Kang Jun met his eyes without flinching.
That clearly angered Lars, but he chose not to attack. A knight was sitting nearby, and no one knew why he had been imprisoned—so Lars decided not to take the risk.
The fourth member was an old man in his sixties, gray-haired, his body resembling a skeleton more than a living person.
"My name is Pak Son. I've been here for over thirty years. I think this will be my last month—I doubt I'll live to see the next. Pleased to meet you."
Pak Son was the calmest among them, behaving like a friendly elder, always smiling as if none of what happened here concerned him.
After the introductions, the knight began asking what weapons each person preferred and which position they fought best in.
"Now, a very important question," he said. "Which of you has mastered a mental defense technique?"
The knight looked at each of them. After a few seconds, no one raised a hand—except Kang Jun.
"Hm. Good," the knight murmured in surprise. "You'll guard our rear together with Mark. Only one in a thousand can master this technique, so I'm surprised by my luck. They say only people with strong spiritual energy can do it."
From his expression, it was clear he hadn't expected such a miracle.
"You probably don't understand why I'm so happy, do you?"There was understanding in his eyes, but Kang Jun simply nodded, waiting.
"It's simple. During an attack, these monsters—many of them resembling insects—can seize control of a person's mind for ten to fifteen seconds. They force the victim to attack their allies. In ninety percent of cases, one ally dies. Since it's impossible to predict when it will happen, battlefield losses are enormous. That's why I placed you in the rear—you'll be able to protect yourself and us."
His words revealed information Kang Jun had never known—or even suspected—but the knight continued.
"You may have already felt the effect and noticed that it doesn't last long. Since your mental and spiritual strength is above average, you'll first feel something scratching inside your head. The moment you feel it, recite your mantra and activate your technique—it will protect you.
As for me, and everyone here except Artas—according to those who've survived mental attacks, it starts with a splitting headache, followed by overwhelming aggression and an immediate desire to kill. So I ask you—please try to restrain yourselves. That will give us time to subdue you until the attack passes… or until Artas or Mark kill one of you, so we don't suffer losses on the battlefield."
The eyes of everyone present—except the knight and the old man—nearly popped out of their sockets.
One of them had already faced these monsters in battle more than once.
And the other was a knight… prepared for anything.