The strongest Demonic Immortal

"There it is." The older man's voice was rough, each word trailing off as he coughed. He stood beside a young man with short, silver hair, who was staring up in awe.

"Wow," the young man muttered, his eyes widening.

Before them stood an enormous gate, towering at the entrance to a mountain range. This was the Firebird Base, a symbol of strength, dominance, and history. Seeing its majesty, Frank couldn't help but let out a soft sigh, his thoughts drifting back to a conversation he'd had with his father.

---

Years ago, Frank sat next to his father, as they often did, the warmth of the hearth contrasting the cold outside. His father's deep voice suddenly broke the silence.

"What does it mean to engage in battle?"

Frank blinked, unsure of how to respond, but his father didn't wait for an answer. His voice became more solemn as he continued, his words carrying weight.

"For example, the people of Northern Wei have been locked in war for decades. They've been raided, lost land, seen their people slaughtered, their treasures stolen. But everything changed when the exiled second prince returned. He led his forces against hordes of soldiers, sparking what came to be known as the Heaven-Slaying War. Generals deserted the capital and joined his cause, and thus the Kingdom of Northern Wei was born, forged in blood and defiance."

His father paused, his eyes hardening.

"War is not just bloodshed, son. It is survival. One day, you'll face your own battles—physical, spiritual, and emotional. And you must understand what it means to fight."

He coughed again, his eyes softening. "You may not understand now, but on your fifteenth birthday, when you face your first tribulation, perhaps then you will begin to grasp what it means."

---

Frank snapped back to the present, his gaze still fixed on the gate. "So this is what he meant," he murmured to himself.

He'd learned that every youth, once they reached the age of fifteen, had to test their potential. The Firebird Base was where they were judged—trained, tested, and either welcomed into the military or sent home.

"What are you waiting for? Get tested," the older man said, his voice now firm.

Frank hesitated, the weight of his father's words still heavy on his shoulders.

"Don't worry," the man added, seeing the look on his face. "You'll pass."

"I don't really want to," Frank muttered under his breath.

The older man raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. Instead, he crouched down, looking Frank in the eyes. "You need to understand something, son. The world is ruled by strength. If you want to live a peaceful life, you need power. That's how it works—whether you like it or not."

Frank stared at the ground, thinking.

"But," the older man added, his voice softer, "if you fail, you come back home. I'll still be there for you."

A faint smile touched Frank's lips. His father was usually a strict man, never one to indulge weakness. But today, there was something different in his tone—a recognition of the weight of the path ahead.

With a nod, Frank took a deep breath and started jogging toward the base. The older man watched him for a moment before turning away. "You'll pass," he muttered, a small smirk playing on his lips. "You're my son, after all."

---

"Get out of the way!"

As Frank jogged toward the base, a loud voice erupted from behind him. Before he could react, a shadow shot past, brushing against him. A young boy, wild-eyed and flailing, was running in panic. Before long, a white-robed man caught up to him, grabbing him by the collar.

"Let go! I don't want to join the army!" the boy wailed. "Help! I'm being kidnapped!"

The white-robed man sighed heavily. "Young Master, stop this nonsense."

"I won't! Help! Someone save me from this pervert!"

The white-robed man's face flushed red with embarrassment. "I'm just following orders, Young Master. While we're in this region, you must follow the rules."

The boy flailed even harder. "I don't care about rules! I don't want to be in this backwater place! If you get me out of here, I'll give you all of my brother's wine stash. Deal?"

Ignoring the boy's bribe, the white-robed man hauled him off toward the barracks. The boy turned to Frank, desperation in his voice. "Hey, you! You in the black! Help me, and I'll give you a million gold coins! No, a billion!"

Frank blinked, stunned by the absurd offer. Shrugging, he walked past the scene, heading into the barracks.

---

Inside the barracks, the atmosphere buzzed with tension. Frank noticed a crowd of recruits lined up in various sections. Each section had a leader, some ordinary-looking, others exuding raw power. Frank joined the line for the infantry unit, the most straightforward path.

Ahead of him, a tall, middle-aged man with a red robe stood by, silently observing the recruits. When Frank reached him, the man spoke.

"Hit me."

Frank's eyes widened in surprise, but seeing no other choice, he punched the man. His hand throbbed instantly. It felt like he had struck solid stone.

The man didn't flinch. Instead, he took Frank's hand, examining it carefully. His eyes lit up with interest.

"A ranked physique..." he muttered under his breath before smiling widely. "You're a promising young man."

"Thank you, sir," Frank said, still rubbing his sore knuckles. He hurried to the next stage of the process, only to be overtaken by a familiar blur.

"Not again," Frank groaned, watching the boy from earlier dart past him at an impossible speed.

---

Later that night, Frank entered his shared quarters. To his complete lack of surprise, the loud boy was already there, along with two other recruits. The boy grinned widely at Frank.

"Hey! My name's Jack, but everyone calls me All Trades, 'cause I'm a Jack of all trades!" he laughed loudly at his own joke, though no one else seemed amused.

Frank rolled his eyes, trying to ignore him.

Jack looked around the room expectantly. "Come on, introduce yourselves! We gotta bond, right?"

The first boy spoke quietly. "Call me Joey."

The other boy followed. "Jake."

Jack gasped dramatically. "What? Joey and Jake? No way! Frank, you gotta change your name so we can all be J's!"

Frank stared at him, deadpan. "Yeah, that's not happening."

Jack just chuckled. "No worries, little bro. I'll take you under my wing anyway."

Frank sighed, thinking, *This is going to be a long night.*