The Unyielding Path: Rise Amidst the Apocalypse
Jiang Xiaoci fell silent.
Relief filled her heart, but so did astonishment.
She hadn't expected a formidable enemy to push Mike to such an extreme. Even through the communicator, she could feel the crushing weight pressing down on him.
It wasn't just the pressure of survival—it was the mounting expectations of countless people relying on him. Mike understood now, more than ever, that his fate was no longer in his hands.
There was no retreat.
Only forward. Only strength. Stronger and stronger!
"Xiaoci, make the arrangements."
After a brief silence, Mike spoke in a calm but commanding tone. "Clean up the battlefield. Secure Guangling and Dantu. We don't have much time."
"I'm giving you two weeks. Before the end of the Third Apocalypse, we must unite four cities and use them as a launching point to build a regional defense line."
He paused, his eyes narrowing.
"Then, we go on the offensive. A full-scale counterattack!"
Mike no longer cared where the enemy was hiding. He had realized a harsh truth—defeating one powerful opponent meant nothing. New enemies would always emerge.
There would always be someone stronger. Always a higher peak to climb.
To protect what he cherished, he had to keep breaking limits—again and again, until he stood at the summit beyond summits.
"Understood, sir."
Jiang Xiaoci responded softly.
This time, she didn't offer any advice. There was no need.
Mike had outgrown the need for her guidance.
Her role now was simple—to execute his commands and policies, returning to the strategist's seat where she belonged.
After the call ended, Jiang Xiaoci looked up at the sky.
The golden clouds overhead were slowly fading. In the distance, the old commander was barking orders at Qin Dashan and Chongshan while the mages reluctantly cleared the battlefield, their expressions twisted with disdain as they dealt with the corpses of fallen elite warriors.
After witnessing the old man's overwhelming strength, any lingering disputes over the chain of command had vanished.
Even the proudest warriors bowed their heads before him.
It was the respect reserved for absolute power.
The greatest crisis of the apocalypse had been crushed by one man's sheer might, defying all logic and expectations.
But no one complained.
They were simply grateful that such power stood on their side.
Jiang Xiaoci kept watching, but her thoughts lingered on her brief conversation with Mike.
She had already stopped marveling at the old man's strength.
Instead, her mind was still caught in the realization of how terrifyingly fast Mike was growing.
"Sir's growth... is unbelievable."
Each crisis, each life-or-death struggle had pushed him beyond his limits, refining him into a leader unlike any other.
He wasn't born a ruler.
But he had become the most terrifyingly adaptable one Jiang Xiaoci had ever seen.
Once an ordinary man, he had transformed in record time—no longer just an exceptional leader, but a strategist rivaling her own intellect.
No matter how elusive or cunning the enemy, Mike always found a way to break through.
His methods were sometimes blunt—brutal, even. A forceful, crushing advance.
But for Mike, it was the most efficient path forward.
Jiang Xiaoci even felt that these enemies, these constant challenges, were a blessing in disguise.
They were the whetstones sharpening his blade, the fuel driving him to greater heights.
Without this relentless pressure, Mike might have still grown strong. But never at this terrifying speed.
An era forges its heroes.
And whether Mike saw himself as one or not, he was walking the path of a true leader—doing what every citizen believed was right.
If the world needed saving, then every citizen had the potential to become a hero.
The courage to stand up, to fight—that was an unshakable part of their identity.
A truth embedded deep in the hearts of the people.
The Aftermath: Shadows and Silence
The post-battle cleanup was quiet yet relentless.
The old commander didn't linger. After throwing out a few harsh scoldings, he turned and left, returning to Jinling to oversee the internal affairs of the region.
Not once did he even consider dealing with the lingering specters of the Third Apocalypse in Guangling.
Qin Dashan had casually suggested it, only to receive a sharp, disdainful reply.
"Go find that brat Wang. He does the job better than I ever could."
Qin Dashan shut up immediately, not daring to push further.
Both Mike and Jiang Xiaoci could tell—the old man was equally dismissive of everyone.
His contempt wasn't selective. He simply treated all people the same—with a cold, distant indifference.
Even Wang Chen, the man whose battlefield feats had shaken the nation, received the same treatment.
He had single-handedly stormed the enemy's stronghold, assassinating their top brass and surviving an ambush from an SSS-ranked warlord.
Everyone in Mike's faction hailed him as a warrior on par with the old commander himself.
But Mike knew better.
Wang Chen's strength was beyond comprehension.
At first, Mike had thought the old man was weaker than Wang Chen.
But now, he wasn't so sure.
The way the commander remained unfazed, the way he still spoke with detached arrogance—it suggested that he had long since understood Wang Chen's depth.
And he wasn't intimidated.
If anything, he simply saw Wang Chen as a peer.
A rival whose strengths differed from his own, but not someone superior.
That alone spoke volumes.
And now, with the old commander refusing to intervene in Guangling's affairs, all responsibility fell to Jiang Xiaoci.
But to her, a city already under full occupation was nothing but routine.
There was no challenge here.
She didn't even need to issue new policies—the Jinling Group's disaster relief teams were already handling everything as planned.
To the people of Guangling, this takeover wasn't shocking.
Many weren't even aware that a battle had taken place.
To them, this was just another change in leadership.
**Apathy—**that was the defining trait of Guangling.
Still, beneath that apathy, an undercurrent of confusion and uncertainty had begun to stir.
For the first time in a long while, some of them wondered—
Do they actually care about us?
Some dismissed the relief efforts as a political ploy—an act to gain their trust before eventual exploitation.
Others dared to hope.
Could this be real? Could this be salvation?
And then there were those who simply shrugged.
If you can't fight it, just enjoy the benefits.
Free supplies? Free resources? Might as well take them. The future could wait.
But the vast majority remained silent.
Because that was what they had always done.
Just like in peacetime, where only a small percentage ever spoke out, the majority simply observed, endured, and adapted.
Silence didn't mean absence.
And Jinling's leadership understood that better than anyone.
They didn't chase approval. They didn't seek validation.
They simply did what needed to be done.
Because history would remember.
Not individuals.
Not names.
But the choices that shaped the future.