After giving Commander Wang Lin his next set of instructions, the logistics unit of the New First Army immediately began conducting a sweeping, carpet-style search across the battlefield. While they worked, Huo Yuhao, accompanied by the leader of the assault squad, made his way toward the center of the battlefield to inspect the seventeen captured prisoners from the Northern Second Soul Engineer Regiment.
Stepping over scorched remains of shattered cannons, burnt-out supply crates, and crumpled tents, Huo Yuhao arrived at the heart of what was once a proud and heavily fortified soul engineer regiment. Now it was reduced to rubble and ashes, flames still crackling from smoldering wreckage.
There, in the middle of the devastation, the seventeen captured enemies knelt in silence. Their faces bore varying expressions—some dazed, some hollow-eyed, others twisted in pain or anxiety. Surrounded by imposing soldiers clad in Sun Moon–issue powered exosuits, the aura of suppression was palpable. The armored guards stood motionless, their visors glowing faintly, giving them a ghostly, almost mechanical presence. Against that oppressive backdrop, not one prisoner dared to so much as lift their head.
Seeing this, a faint smirk curled at Huo Yuhao's lips. These were supposed to be powerful soul kings and soul emperors. On any other day, they would have lorded over any commoner with unchecked pride. Yet here they were, trembling like mice before a lion.
And soul ancestors or soul sects? Not even worth mentioning. Under the barrage of level-five and level-six fixed soul cannon shells, individuals below soul king level didn't stand a chance. They had perished without a trace in the earlier wave of fire.
As Huo Yuhao approached, one of the exosuit soldiers stepped forward with a heavy mechanical whir, his voice transmitted through a clear but synthetic speaker.
"Reporting, Chief of Staff. All seventeen prisoners accounted for and secured. Awaiting your directive."
Some of the prisoners, those still mentally aware, turned their eyes toward the source of the voice and finally got a good look at Huo Yuhao. The moment they registered his youthful appearance—just a teenager, no more than fourteen years old at most—they were visibly shaken. Could it really be this child who led the terrifying army that crushed their regiment without mercy? Who commanded ordinary humans with such devastating precision?
Huo Yuhao stood silently for a moment, observing them. He could see the mixture of confusion, fear, and disbelief in their eyes. After a pause, he gave his verdict in a calm, unwavering voice.
"Secure them. When we return to Mingdu, assign them to labor reform."
Then, turning his gaze to the prisoners themselves, his tone became sharp, like steel unsheathed.
"Listen closely. Your current state is the result of your own folly. It was your foolish Northern Duke who dared to raise the banner of rebellion against Mingdu. For that, this is the empire's answer. You are all citizens of the Sun Moon Empire. Your strength should have been spent on the battlefield against the Douluo Alliance, not turned inward. But I am not one to waste good resources."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle in their ears before continuing.
"Upon returning to the capital, each of you will undergo full ideological and labor reform. If you pass your evaluations, you'll have the opportunity to be conscripted into the New First Army. Serve the empire. Redeem your worth. Make yourselves useful again. Do I make myself clear?"
No one dared speak, but all of them nodded stiffly. Heads bowed. Defeated.
Huo Yuhao didn't say another word. He simply turned and left, his boots crunching against the debris-strewn ground.
It was only after his departure that the captured soul engineers collectively let out a breath they didn't know they were holding. Somehow, that young boy radiated an overwhelming pressure, not unlike that of a titled Douluo. They didn't even dare raise their heads again after he'd turned away, afraid that even glancing at him might be taken as defiance.
Though the New First Army was composed entirely of ordinary civilians, Huo Yuhao saw the value in recruiting more soul engineers when possible. Such individuals would be ideal for high-risk assault missions, where their chances of survival were higher due to personal strength and soul power.
Of course, proper reform and conditioning were non-negotiable. He had already spoken with Xu Tianyuan, the commander of the Royal Dragon Soul Engineer Regiment, who had agreed to hand over captured prisoners from the Northern First Regiment to be processed in the same way.
With his inspection of the prisoners concluded, Huo Yuhao turned his attention to something else: battle costs.
On the surface, this had been a clean, decisive victory. But he knew better. Wars didn't just consume energy—they consumed money. A lot of it.
The price of modern warfare wasn't measured in bullets or swords. It was measured in gold.
Take those hundred advanced fixed soul cannon shells they had launched—each one, an engineering marvel produced by Mingde Hall, customized with upgraded cores and improved delivery systems. That salvo alone had cost over ten million gold soul coins.
Factor in the vast consumption of sealed milk bottles and energy resources, and the total cost of this blitzkrieg operation had climbed to more than fifteen million gold soul coins. Had the imperial treasury not provided backing, Huo Yuhao suspected he'd be clutching his heart in financial despair.
That said, government subsidies were one thing. Looting the enemy for supplementary funds was another. And Huo Yuhao had no intention of letting such an opportunity slip by.
Soul engineer regiments weren't just powerful—they were famously wealthy. Individual soldiers often carried expensive gear, while the regiment itself stockpiled a trove of soul tools and components. This battlefield was a goldmine.
As he waited for the logistics team to deliver their full inventory report, Huo Yuhao made a quick detour to examine the corpse of the late regiment commander.
Ten bodies had been gathered in a row—those eliminated by the sniper squad. Each bore the same signature wound: a perfectly round, charred hole seared clean through the chest or skull, left by a high-energy, condensed soul ray.
Of those whose heads remained intact, their eyes were all frozen open in shock. If the dead could feel resentment, they might be crawling back from the afterlife at the sheer absurdity of it—killed not by elite soul masters, but by commoners wielding soul tools.
Just a few meters away, the sniper squad sat around in a loose semicircle, casually cleaning their soul rifles and exchanging stories about their kills. When Huo Yuhao approached, they immediately stood and saluted with disciplined precision.
He returned the gesture with a nod. What pleased him most was their restraint. Not a single sniper had tried to loot the bodies. Everything was left untouched, awaiting inspection.
"This one—Northern Second Regiment's commander. Which of you brought him down?" Huo Yuhao asked.
Without hesitation, Chen Fenglin proudly stepped forward, raising his hand.
"Reporting, sir! It was me!"
A small smile flickered on Huo Yuhao's face as he nodded in approval.
Then, with a wave of his hand, he summoned the dead commander's storage devices: five soul tool rings and two arm-mounted storage bracelets. Infusing them with soul power, he began to probe their contents.
What he found made his eyes light up.
As expected of a regiment commander from the soul engineer corps, the man's personal wealth was absurdly extravagant. Just one of the eight-grade storage rings was filled with over sixty million gold soul coins.
(End of Chapter)
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