"Camp Leader, what are you talking about?"
In the snowy plains outside Xue Lin City, Zhou Fugui suddenly uttered three words that no one understood, and Yang Xinhong, his fellow townsman, asked.
Huddled together in a snow cave, Zhou Fugui's fellow townsmen also looked at him, waiting for his answer.
"Ancient Greece... um... West Qin, yes, West Qin, there was a city-state named 'Sparta'..." Zhou Fugui slowly said, poking the campfire with a twig. "Sparta was a slave city-state, renowned for its formidable military strength and strict discipline. Its warriors were known as Spartan warriors, each capable of fighting a hundred men."
"Fighting a hundred men, that powerful?" Suo Dacheng and others were a bit skeptical upon hearing this.
After following Zhou Fugui on his southern campaigns, Xu Mancang, Suo Dacheng, and others believed they could fight ten men, but Zhou Fugui's claim of Spartan warriors being able to fight a hundred men seemed too exaggerated.
After all, fighting one hundred people, even if they were unarmed, could still beat you to death.
"Fighting a hundred men might not even be enough to describe the strength of the Spartan warriors." Seeing their disbelieving looks, Zhou Fugui smiled slightly and continued, "Do you know how they trained? They started training from childhood. This childhood is not mere toddlerhood or adolescence, but from the day they were born, elders of the city-state would assess their bodies. Only those who were healthy and strong were allowed to live; the weak, sickly, or deformed were abandoned in the mountains to die. The surviving infants, at the age of six or seven, were sent by their parents to join the army. Upon joining, they would select a boy with excellent judgment and the bravest in combat to be appointed as the leader of the scout troop. Everyone else had to heed his commands and accept his punishments, the aim being to train their obedience from a young age."
Zhou Fugui spoke eloquently, and the crowd listened with great interest.
After drinking some boiled snow water, Zhou Fugui continued, "To make them stronger, Spartan boys had to walk barefoot, bathe rarely, and were not allowed to apply salves to their wounds, thus their skin became tough and dry. They wore only one cloak year-round. The beds they slept on were woven from a special plant that they dug up with their bare hands. The purpose of this was to teach them to endure heat and cold. To let them experience the harshness of nature, and to test their survival skills in adverse environments, those Spartan boys were often thrown into the wilderness, into the snow, to contend with the heavens and the earth, to wrestle with wild beasts, and so on. Many of them lost their lives because of this, but those who survived all became fierce warriors."
"My goodness, children of just a few years old thrown into such a snowy wilderness? Amazing, truly amazing!" Xu Mancang exclaimed in astonishment, and the rest of his fellow townsmen were also extremely surprised.
Warriors trained in such a manner, capable of fighting a hundred men, were indeed believable.
"Fugui, are you also a Spartan warrior?" Li Qing suddenly asked, looking at Zhou Fugui.
"Do I look like a barbarian?" Zhou Fugui gave Li Qing a wry look and asked with a mix of amusement and exasperation.
"Yes!" everyone echoed in unison, laughing.
With a high nose bridge, fair skin, and a sturdy build, he did indeed look somewhat different from the average Han person. Many people noticed the unique features of Zhou Fugui's appearance.
"Damn it, you are the barbarians..." Zhou Fugui said, chuckling. "I am a genuine Yan Yun Han person... Do you still want to listen? If not, go to sleep."
Half of the blood flowing in Zhou Fugui's veins was that of the Xiongnu. How could he reveal such a secret to others?
"Hey, Fugui, continue," Pan Jiangu asked, who was listening with rapt attention. "How could you be a barbarian? At most, you are a mutated Han..."
"Hahaha!" The fellow townsmen burst into laughter at this.
Zhou Fugui shot Pan Jiangu a fierce glare and continued, "The story is not over yet. Besides harsh training, Spartan boys also engaged in gladiator-like combat, killing each other. The victor lived, the vanquished died. Surviving in such a cold-blooded, cruel environment, they naturally grew into fierce warriors capable of fighting a hundred men. I recall a battle of theirs, known as the Battle of Thermopylae. In the Battle of Thermopylae, there were three hundred Spartan warriors, along with seven to eight thousand soldiers from other city-states, facing an army of three hundred thousand Parthian soldiers. Yet, these mere three hundred Spartan warriors held off the tens of thousands of Parthian troops for three full days. After three days of bloody battle, all three hundred Spartan warriors died heroically, with no surrender. However, they killed or wounded tens of thousands of Parthians."
After Zhou Fugui finished speaking, his fellow townsmen were all stunned, their mouths agape, too shocked to speak.
Three hundred men against three hundred thousand men was not fighting one hundred, but one thousand men. Faced with these fierce Spartan warriors, what chance would they have? Many wondered.
"General Zhou, what is the meaning of this anecdote?" After a long silence, Xue Wentai, the Great Monk of Guanzhong, finally asked.
Xue Wentai had always been confident in his martial prowess, believing he could fight ten men, or even a hundred. However, facing these formidable Spartan warriors, he might not even be able to handle one. Thus, Xue Wentai was also profoundly shocked.
"Fugui is trying to encourage you," Li Qing said before Zhou Fugui could answer.
"Exactly!" Zhou Fugui nodded, glancing at Li Qing. "The harsher the environment, the more it tempers our will. The tougher the conditions, the stronger our bodies become. I do not seek to be like the Spartan warriors, but only to survive in this harsh snowy wilderness. Only by surviving can we achieve great things, and only by surviving can we have the chance to reunite with our families."
Li Qing had only guessed part of it, not the whole of it, or perhaps he had guessed Zhou Fugui's second thought or wish, but dared not or was unable to say it.
Zhou Fugui's second thought or wish was a longing for a formidable army, a truly his own army, an invincible force.
In times of chaos, an army was the ultimate security. With an invincible force, one would have land, wealth, women... and hence, a voice and power.
If Zhou Fugui had commanded an invincible force, would the Duan father and son dare to bully his family? Would those in the Yan court dare to toy with Zhou Fugui? And so on.
If Zhou Fugui had commanded an invincible force, would Lin Dong City, and that resolute old marshal Hu Yan Sheng, dare to drive Zhou Fugui and his men out of the city?
Army, strength, power, and the like – this was the second time Zhou Fugui had felt such a strong desire for these things.
"Yes!" Everyone cupped their fists in unison.
.................
"Crack! Crack! Crack!"
In the dead of night, the campfire continued to burn. All the exhausted convicts, except for the sentries, were asleep in the snow cave. Zhou Fugui, however, was lost in thought, unable to sleep, staring blankly at the campfire, pondering his worries.
Army, strength, power – these words flashed repeatedly in Zhou Fugui's mind. Yet, despite knowing their importance, he was currently helpless, unable to grasp them at all.
Previously, Zhou Fugui still had the White Tiger Battalion with three thousand soldiers. But now, apart from a few hundred convicts, he had nothing.
Moreover, these few hundred convicts were not necessarily Zhou Fugui's. They were all people exiled to the border. Where they would be assigned upon reaching the border, Zhou Fugui had no idea.
As for his identity as a Deputy General of the Yan court... perhaps in their eyes, it meant nothing, Zhou Fugui thought with bitterness.
At this moment, Zhou Fugui's only capital was his advanced knowledge and experience, but so far, he had no opportunity to apply it...
Wandering and displaced, perhaps that was the description of Zhou Fugui's life in the past few years.
Transmigration? Many people thought that after transmigrating, they would inevitably stand at the pinnacle of power, and be incredibly formidable. This was not the case. After transmigrating, one first had to adapt to the world.
Survival of the fittest, as Hu Yan Sheng had said, the adaptable survived, the unadaptable perished, no matter who you were or where you came from.
At this moment, Zhou Fugui almost forgot that he was a transmigrator.
"Roar... Roar..." Just then, the little white bear, Xiao Bai, who was sleeping curled up at Zhou Fugui's feet, suddenly woke up. Its ears perked up, its front paws drooped, and it stood on its hind legs, looking alertly and fearfully outside the snow cave, emitting continuous "roar" sounds.
"Bad! Something's wrong!" Zhou Fugui was initially puzzled as to why the little white bear, "Chi You," was acting this way. Then, he suddenly realized, and hurriedly picked up his waist saber, shouting, "Get up quickly, get up, stop sleeping, something's wrong, enemy attack! Enemy attack!"
Animals' senses of smell and perception were countless times superior to humans', especially predatory animals like this. Zhou Fugui was well aware of this.
"Crash! Crash!"
"Fugui, what happened?"
"General Zhou, I just dreamed of fine wine and fatty meat, and you..."
Zhou Fugui's roar, unusually loud in the silent night, jolted everyone from their sleep. They grabbed various weapons. Some asked Zhou Fugui, while others complained, like Xue Wentai, the Great Monk of Guanzhong.
How many days had it been since Xue Wentai had drunk wine? In his dream, he was just about to feast on fine wine and fatty meat when he was startled awake by Zhou Fugui's roar. Naturally, he was filled with resentment...
Zhou Fugui waved his hand, signaling them to be quiet, and quietly ordered them to inform the people in other snow caves.
"Roar..."
"Snow wolves!"