Conscription

*Things like sexism and racism are purely for worldbuilding and to make it more realistic. Thank you for your understanding.*

The sun was low as it slowly rose over the horizon on Qingpu Planet.

The warm, deep orange light slowly crept over the ground, expanding its domain and vanquishing the darkness that still lurked from the night. And like a pitiful scourge, it could only run away and hide from the light.

The salty breeze carried over from the vast oceans that covered the majority of Qingpu Planet. It was a cold morning breeze that would cause steam to be exhaled. However, it was the cold morning that created a strange sense of comfort. Almost as if when warmth was restricted to only one's self and not one's surroundings, it felt better.

Birds migrated across the cloudy skies in flocks of thousands, charging eastward into the rising sun. Insects found themselves in the nooks and crannies of the city, occupying the cold and wet corners. The morning dew settled nicely onto spiders' webs, birds' feathers and the clansmen wandering the streets early.

The streets of the city were mostly empty. The commercial district within the centre of the city had a few drunkards stumbling around arm-in-arm after a visibly exciting night out. Other than that, a few shop owners could be seen opening their stalls and shops early. These hard-working clansmen would see people falling over, standing up and taking a step only to fall over again. Some had smiles on their faces, others looked spiteful.

The residential district looked to be deserted, with the majority of people still hoping to sleep for a couple more hours. Though, there would be someone passing through every now and then.

The main road passing from the north gate of the city all the way to the doors of the main pagoda was always occupied. After all, thousands of cultivators lived in Qingshan and somebody was always departing on a mission. And even though it was the worst place to put a house, the ones along this road were the most expensive. Considering the never-ending traffic, they didn't deserve to be.

Even though people appeared to be acting normally, everybody knew that war was about to break out. The Internal Hall of Affairs had conscripted millions of cultivators yesterday on Qingpu Planet and others where Qing clansmen resided.

There was no need to worry about a leak of information. Even if there were spies from the Huoyan Clan and other Clans, how would they relay it? Only Stage 6s can leave the planet and the Qing Clan would not let any foreign Stage 6s leave or enter Qingpu at this time. As for possible communication through communication amulets? The most expensive and powerful amulets only had a range spanning the world. Meaning that they were virtually useless to cultivators who could leave the planet.

Thus, the entire planet already knew that the Clan would soon be going to war. Although it seemed as though things should've changed because of this, surprisingly they hadn't. People would talk about the subject in restaurants and such with their limited information, however, everyday life was the same. People still went out and had fun, threw parties, accepted missions, fell in love and got annoyed at the smallest things.

As far as any regular clansmen knew, the war would probably commence in a couple of weeks, a few days at least. However, unbeknownst to mortal clansmen and cultivators who weren't conscripted, the forces would depart today.

It wouldn't be strange if they didn't even notice. After all, the Qing Clan was not using anywhere near their full forces. The Huoyan Clan was much smaller than them but they also didn't want to take all of the elites and risk their lives. The most any person would notice is just a few fewer people around the cities as well as the main pagoda being empty on the highest floors.

Only a few people would notice, but then again, it isn't top-secret information. Even if spies had a way to relay information, the Huoyan Clan would be under a huge assault on every single one of their planets by then. It would be total chaos and carnage, and the information would already be useless at that point.

The long shadows cast by the sun being just over the horizon shortened as the morning began. The chorus of birds began to ignite within the trees and the air was getting warmer. The dark morning that would make one feel peaceful receded as a bright day took its place.

At this moment, men were readying themselves for war.

...

Deep underneath the surface of Qingshan city, thousands of figures crowded a hall moulded from mud and rock. Its layout was crude and by no means decorated in any sense. This hall only had functionality in mind.

That being said, it appeared to be some sort of barracks. The smell of iron and sweat pervaded the air as the loud clanging of metal echoed off of the walls. The ceiling was low for a hall of its size and many walls that formed corridors lay within. Along the walls of each corridor, a shining mantle of blue armour lay, waiting to be donned.

At this moment, a large number of men and a small number of women dressed in battle robes started putting the armour on themselves.

Different from normal daoist robes which hung off of the body comfortably and had many layers to it in varying splendid colours, battle robes were much staler. They were tight-fitting on the upper body and arms and formed into a tight collar on the neck. Then, they hung past the waist as robes normally would, however, they were splintered on the front and back to allow large movement. A pair of leg wraps would be worn underneath.

Battle robes were almost always in dark colours like black, grey or dark-blue. The colour varied in the room as each cultivator owned their own set and they weren't supplied by the Clan.

Then, amidst the humid air and heavy breathing of the cultivators around them, the cultivators would look to the mantle of dark-blue and shining armour that they would adorn themselves with. It had a luxurious sheen that reflected light in a beautiful array of colours.

Men could be heard talking and arguing among themselves as they dressed. Most women preferred to keep to themselves in an environment that was dominated by men, afraid to come across as too "friendly" or, in other words, promiscuous.

In a corridor where the high-class warriors were familiar with each other, a particular youth with short, black hair was smoothing out his navy-blue battle robe, preparing to put his set of armour on. His eyes looked uncaring but in a bored sense. However, underneath that was a cold and apathetic gaze that could freeze the sun itself.

Naturally, it was Qing Fang, a twenty-two-year-old peak Stage 3 Water path cultivator.

Temporarily ignoring the men close to himself, Qing Fang lay his hands upon the dark-blue armour. It was heavy and cold to the touch, staying true to its purpose as equipment of war.

He picked up the chest piece and put it over his head and lay it onto his shoulders. It consisted of extremely heavy and dense metal that lay atop one another in layers. The armour itself covered the shoulders and upper arms as well as a large chunk of metal that lay over his torso and back. The armour on the shoulders and torso was not connected and was weaved together by dark leather underneath. Naturally, this was for free movement of the arms.

The armour looked extremely protective as well as streamlined. The armour covering the shoulders converged into a neck guard that covered the sides of the neck while leaving the front and back free.

Only putting the chest piece on, Qing Fang already looked equipped enough for a huge battle. However, he was not done yet.

The battle skirt, once again formed by sheets of the dense dark-blue metal layered atop one another, attached to the skirt of the battle robe. It only covered the outermost sides of the thighs and did not infringe the front, for ease of movement. The battle skirt did not hang past the knees as that would cause it to sway and hit against the body with its weight.

His cold eyes remaining dim as he outfitted himself, Qing Fang then looked to the pair of extravagant-looking gauntlets before him. They combined a forearm guard and a glove into one, completely comprised of metal. The fingers of the glove formed into sharp claws that could easily pierce and shatter the ribcage of even a cultivator. The glove ended in an elbow guard that hung past it when the glove was put onto the arm.

At this point, Qing Fang looked to be a fierce warrior with thick and covering armour laying across his shoulder and arms in layers while a thick two-piece chest plate covered his back and front respectively. With the battle skirt that covered part of his lower body, he looked like a champion of the battlefield.

However, even yet, he was not done.

Hung on the wall was the last piece of the armour, the boots. However, these looked to be far more than boots. They were weapons themselves.

Just like the gauntlets, the boots combined a shin guard and boot into one and was completely made of overlapping metal. The shin guard stuck out past the knee to cover it similar to the elbows. The boot itself was metal as it had a thick heel on the bottom that caused a deep metallic thud whenever a step was taken. The end of the boot converged to a sharp toe point that could break someone's skull in two.

Completely decked out in this armour, the dark-eyed Qing Fang looked to be a mystical warrior that was worthy of a thousand opponents.

Looking down at the gauntlets that covered his arm in thick plates and his fingers in thick daggers, Qing Fang clenched his fist as he raised his head to look at his helmet staring right back at him with empty slits.

However, he did not wear it at this moment and only held it under his arm as he looked at his surroundings. Around him were men putting the exact same armour as him on, naturally in differing sizes.

This armour was no ordinary armour. It was the armour of a general. Generals were strong units on the battlefield that led their men into battle. It was standard for a Stage 4 to be a general, however, some Quasi Stage 4s were also qualified as long as they were skilled combatants.

Surrounding Qing Fang were the many generals like him that made up this detached force. The already few women thinned out to just a few dozen. This was because the nature of this specialised detachment was special. It wasn't like your regular army that fought against another army.

It was part of a special detachment borne of war tactics. This unit was specialised in massacres. It took a special type of person to be able to slaughter hundreds of weaklings in seconds without batting an eye before moving onto the next area with the utmost efficiency. Women were naturally scarce among these types of people.

The exact task of this specialised force was to quickly thin out the numbers of weak cultivators so the main force could directly clash with the enemy. Espionage, raids and guerilla warfare was the speciality of these soldiers that must thin out the enemy to give the main army an easier time.

However, the biggest speciality of these soldiers was, by far, following orders.

Qing Fang was a general of this specialised force, probably the courtesy of his record of assassination and tracking expertise. He did not hide his abilities from the Clan. Why would he? He had already become strong enough so that he couldn't just disappear if an elder wanted him to.

It wasn't at all strange for Qing Fang to be a general in the attacking force. With his Quasi Stage 4 strength, he was in the top one per cent of all the attacking forces.

Already prepared for war, and with his helmet in hand, he looked to his fellow generals; many of which he was acquainted with. There were a few other Quasi Stage 4s but the majority were Stage 4.

Turning to face his circle of acquaintances, Qing Fang overheard them talking about the war.

"Why aren't there contribution points in this conflict?" A voice came from a brown-haired man that looked to be in his late twenties. His build was broad and strong and his narrow eyes had a naturally sharp glint. He asked the question casually, showing that it was a question that could go unanswered.

But, facing the casual question was an unwarranted stern voice that seemed to condemn. "It seems you are not understanding something, Zhifei." His tone attracted the gaze of Stage 4 Qing Zhifei which seemed to pierce the soul.

"Unlike the previous skirmishes that are usually fought, that we have all partaken in, this is a real war. You obviously don't pay attention to politics." The condemning voice came from a man that looked to be just under the average height. His hair was commonly black and long as his sharp eyebrows accentuated his narrow eyes and perfect nose.

Qing Zhifei turned his gaze away from the man and spoke while grabbing his helmet from the wall. "Why would I be? You know me, Linxue. I don't have any interest in serious conversation." He kept his casual tone as he sat down on a bench before him after he had grabbed his helmet and hung it from his waist.

Stage 4 Qing Linxue just looked down to the ground as he spoke further. "There's nothing to be gained from this sort of conflict, but that doesn't matter. We aren't a sect, we are a clan. If you need payment to stay loyal like one of them, you might as well fucking leave." The sudden harsh tone and words caused Qing Zhifei to look up at Qing Linxue with a threatening glare.

However, he did not say anything. Qing Linxue just continued as his bearing seemed to get cold. "The fact that every single one of us shares blood is enough for me." Then, Qing Linxue glared directly at Qing Zhifei as he seemed to ask a question.

However, Qing Zhifei did not answer and directed his attention elsewhere. He looked to his friend and asked his opinion on the matter. Qing Zhifei normally got on well with Qing Linxue, however, the latter seemed to change into a different person in times of war. He could only bring another person into the conversation to keep things civil, not that he really cared at all in the first place. He just couldn't stand the attention people that hated him placed on himself.

"Qing Fang, what do you think?" He looked to the man that was standing with them and listening to their conversation.

However, instead of the mood lightening, he was graced with another cold stare. "It would be a good idea for you to renew your image of loyalty in our eyes." The words were spoken casually with a hint of ice as Qing Fang and Qing Linxue looked at the comfortably seated Qing Zhifei.

These words coming from the usually jolly and accommodating Qing Fang put a disgusting expression on the face of Qing Zhifei. He looked at his friends in defiance as he spat the words. "Why are you so serious? It's only war, nothing special for us."

Faced with these words, Qing Linxue snorted while Qing Fang just lowered his gaze. Indeed, war was nothing special for cultivators like them. They worked with blood and darkness on a regular basis for the Clan. It all came down to whether one took the threat of the battlefield seriously or not. Qing Fang and Qing Linxue were the cautious types while Qing Zhifei clearly treated it like just another day.

Just as the conversation was about to go on, the three heard thuds of metal further down the corridor as the noise within their corridor quietened down substantially. The air was still humid and smelled of metal and leather with an aftertaste of sweat.

Down the dimly lit corridor, the three saw a figure walking. However, different from the generals, his armour looked to be more majestic and domineering. It looked to cover more of his body and was also covered in blunt spikes that served as decoration along the gauntlets and shoulder plates. However, the plates on this figure's armour were outlined with gold, showing his status.

With each metallic thud of the figure's boots, generals straightened up and bowed their heads. They bore an aura of respect as the armoured warriors greeted their superior in rank and in power.

Forgetting useless conversation, the three generals and those next to them stood in line to greet the figure as he gradually approached them. Even the generals that the figure had passed stayed atent for a while before they put themselves at ease once more.

"Commander." "Commander." "Commander." Fang, Zhifei and Linxue greeted the figure that neared them. The other generals only received a gentle nod from the commander in return, however, the esteemed figure stopped to look at Qing Fang with a smile.

"Junior Fang, it is nice to have you in my ranks again. After this conflict, I may require your expertise once more. Come and see me then." A low voice came from the commander as he directed a small smile at Qing Fang with cold eyes that betrayed the friendly sentiment.

"Of course, commander Tian." Qing Fang bowed his head deeper as he responded. He was extremely respectful of his superiors which almost always gave a good impression.

After that, the commander soon disappeared into the ranks of generals and echoes of greetings. The three generals only put themselves at ease a minute after the commander had left them.

As soon as they did, Qing Zhifei didn't hesitate to comment. "Fuwaahh. Little Fang you are so renowned! I guess that's thanks to you being an expert assassin in the Clan. It's sad though, if only the commander knew that your reputation precedes you. Sigh! Haha." Qing Zhifei poked fun at Qing Fang with a sarcastic voice and a grin on his face.

"Shut up." Qing Fang said playfully as he chuckled lightly.

This was the atmosphere that Qing Zhifei wanted, and it seemed to have worked. Seriousness annoyed him, but that was probably due to his lack of interest in anything and everything.

However, it was at this moment that a loud commotion seemed to have brewed among the regular soldiers.

*3,171/3,000 words*