In the early hours of the morning, the atmosphere is cool and refreshing. The sky is covered in dark, ominous clouds, and suddenly, the heavens unleash a torrential downpour upon the earth.
It is a heavy, heavy rain, drenching everything in its path. On the outskirts of a battlefield, in an open field filled with dirt and mud, the cries of thousands of soldiers echo through the air. It is evident that they are on the brink of defeat, as fallen comrades lie battered and bloodied on the ground.
Just at the edge of the battlefield, a white tent adorned with the flag of the Huang Kingdom flutters in the wind. Inside the tent, imperial officials gather around a table, their faces etched with worry.
In a corner of the room, a young man in his late twenties sits on royal bedding, his chest exposed and eyes closed. If one were to look closely, they would see beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, a testament to the intense battle raging within his body.
An elderly man in his fifties sits behind the young man, his palms pressed flat against his back. Wisps of steam can be seen emanating from his hands, as he transfers his qi, his life force, to help heal the young man's internal injuries.
"Pu!"
The young man spits out a mouthful of fresh blood. It appears that the healing process has taken a turn for the worse, and his condition is deteriorating. His complexion has turned pale, and his breathing is labored.
"Young Master!" a concerned official calls out.
"Young sect leader!" another official exclaims in distress.
Unbeknownst to anyone, at that moment, the soul within the young man undergoes a profound change. All Jin Woo can feel is pain, but this is no different from the suffering he has endured since the ambush.
However, the collective shouts and commotion in his room alert him that something is definitely amiss.
Though he is sitting up alone without assistance, and he can sense the sensations in his arms and legs, Jin Woo remains in shock, his eyes firmly shut. He can feel his body healing at an astonishing speed.
The title bestowed upon him was Sect Leader. Jin Woo could only recall the relief he felt when his prayers for death were finally answered after five long years. Being reduced to a vegetable, trapped in his own body, was not the worst fate for someone who once commanded the black ops, an elite army team. However, enduring that state for half a decade was nothing short of torture.
Jin Woo had hoped for an end to it all, and it finally came. But instead of finding peace, his soul seemed to have been transported somewhere else entirely. Consciousness still lingered within him, evidenced by the pain he could feel. But this place was definitely not his hospital room.
"Young Sect Leader," an official stepped forward. "You must persevere. It is the only way our sect will survive."
Jin Woo had no knowledge of his current situation, so he had to adapt as he went along.
"What is the situation?" Jin Woo's hoarse voice asked. The room fell into a deafening silence.
"We... we underestimated Ming's Kingdom War General," a man started sobbing as he spoke. "We had no idea Wang Ting Zhi was so formidable. Our army celebrated victory too soon, my lord. They caught us off guard, and Ming's army, led by Wang Ting Zhi, infiltrated our camp as we celebrated. It was as if divine intervention had handed our heads to them."
"Ping Wei!" an official cried out. "How dare you speak such blasphemy in front of the Sect Leader!" The room erupted into heated arguments.
"I've said it before, and I'll say it again," another official shouted. "The war between Ming Kingdom and us is beyond our imagination. I understand that the current emperor is the Sect Leader's uncle, but the sect supporting Ming Kingdom will not back down either. Everyone wants to claim the new spiritual stone mine."
Just as the tent flaps opened, a young man clad in heavy armor, his sword still dripping with the blood of his enemies, knelt before Woo Jin.
"Young sect leader, we must retreat. Nanjing pass has been captured," he reported.
"Oh, heavens!" one of the officials stumbled, struggling to stay upright.
"We are doomed! We will not win this battle if Nanjing pass has been overtaken," another official lamented.
Jin Woo listened to the situation, realizing that he had been transported to the midst of a battlefield, and the odds were stacked against them.
"Is there any way for us to turn the tide?" he asked, scanning the faces of every man in the tent, trying to grasp the severity of the situation.
"Replying to the sect leader," the kneeling man began, "I believe if we retreat to the Southpass wall and hold the enemy at bay, we may still have a chance."
Jin Woo, though not an avid reader, had come across a few comics in his day. While they couldn't help him in his current reality, they did give him a glimpse into the world he had been transported to - the cultivation world, as they called it. And Jin Woo, now burdened with the responsibility of leading thousands of men, was no ordinary individual.
"Then let us not waste time speculating. Someone help me put my armor back on," he commanded, a task he was accustomed to.
"Young sect leader," one official stepped forward, "perhaps we could negotiate with the Ming people."
"What utter nonsense are you suggesting, Ping Wei!" Tian jinn scoffed.
Tian jinn, the old master who was healing Jin Woo, continued, "You want our sect leader to bow his head to another sect? You might as well finish us."
"Listen to me, you stubborn old fool. This war has nothing to do with our sect. It was his majesty, the emperor, our sect leader's uncle that brought us into this." Ping Wei argued, the tension between the two escalating.
"Enough!" Jin Woo commanded, diffusing the situation. "Both of you, retreat first. Someone go and gather the soldiers blow the horn for retreat. It's best to set out at night." Jin Woo knew he needed a map and someone with knowledge to assess their current predicament.
***