Volume 4: Super-Tier Awakening & The Ancient Capital Calamity
Chapter 348
Top-Secret Raid Plan: The Suicide Squad
The strategic conference room of the Southern Military Region Headquarters fell into a deadly silence at midnight. Lin Feng’s proposal dropped like a magical atomic bomb straight onto the central holographic sandbox, sweeping away every trace of whispers and leaving behind an oppressive, suffocating weight that made it hard to breathe.
The generals with glittering golden insignia on their shoulders—Super-Tier powerhouses who had survived hundreds of life-or-death battles against ocean monsters and dark factions—now stared blankly at the young man standing at the head of the table. Their eyes were filled with shock, caution, and utter disbelief.
“You... Lin Feng, what did you just say? You want to... no, you want to use such a lunatic plan to resolve the stalemate at the Ancient Imperial Mausoleum?” Lieutenant General Xu Xiong, a theater commander renowned for his iron-fisted ruthlessness, twitched his lips as his deep voice betrayed raw disbelief.
Lin Feng stood straight, his expression as cold as a millennium glacier. His gaze swept across the shifting expressions of the military heavyweights. The 3D holographic sandbox hovering in the middle of the room emitted a flashing orange-red light, displaying an extraordinarily complex and treacherous geological structure buried deep beneath the continental crust.
The Ancient Emperor’s Imperial Mausoleum.
It was not merely an archaeological ruin or an ordinary tomb of ancient Eastern dynasties. It was a death forbidden zone buried over a thousand meters beneath ancient basalt rock layers, where the boundary between life and death had blurred tens of thousands of years ago.
According to top-secret intelligence recently gathered by the military via advanced seismic scanning equipment, the space beneath the Ancient Imperial Mausoleum was completely shrouded in a thick, dense miasma of death that condensed into murky gray fog. This death aura was not ordinary swamp gas, but the accumulated resentment of millions of soldiers and the tomb’s master over endless years.
Even a top-tier mage with top-tier protective shields, if they inhaled even a tiny gulp of that condensed death aura, their lungs would instantly corrode and rot away in less than ten breaths. Fresh blood would gush from their eyes and ears before their soul was torn to shreds.
That wasn’t all. The mausoleum’s interior was a colossal destruction machine operated by ancient magic. The subterranean chambers were arranged according to a Yin-Yang reversing Eight-Trigrams formation, laced with spatial traps, poisoned bone-piercing arrows, and, most terrifyingly, legions of ancient bronze terracotta warriors. They possessed no hearts, felt no pain, and never grew exhausted. Driven by the evil formation, they stood ready to crush any living creature daring to disturb the tyrant’s eternal slumber.
“Commander Xu, you all know the current situation very well,” Lin Feng said, his voice calm yet striking with the rhythmic certainty of a hammer driving into everyone’s mind. “The stalemate at the northern defense line has lasted a full three weeks. The alliance of rogue factions and dark cult forces inside the mausoleum are sacrificing living souls day and night to awaken the First Ancient Emperor. If we hesitate for even another week, waiting for the seal to completely collapse and dark energy to flood the surface, the entire Southern region will turn into a human slaughterhouse.”
“We understand that logic perfectly well!” A major general in charge of logistics slammed his hand onto the table in fury, veins bulging on his forehead. “But what do you intend to do? Launch a frontal assault with the main army? You know very well that the tunnel leading down to the mausoleum is less than ten meters wide. Pouring troops in wholesale is nothing more than crawling into a stone mortar for someone to pound grain! The death aura down there will paralyze the supply system and combat strength of an entire army. Before we even touch the enemy, ten thousand of our elite soldiers will collapse from asphyxiation!”
“I never said I was taking the main army down there,” Lin Feng replied coldly, the corners of his mouth twitching into a bitter yet unyielding self-deprecating smile. “Taking the main army down is suicide. The only viable plan, and the sole path to survival for millions of civilians in the surrounding cities, is to form an elite Suicide Squad.”
The conference room lapsed back into a suffocating silence.
“A suicide squad?” Lieutenant General Xu Xiong muttered, narrowing his eyes into sharp slits. “How many people do you plan to use? And what personnel structure can possibly pierce through the forbidden zone’s dense defense?”
“The optimal number: five to six people. No more, no less.” Lin Feng raised five slender fingers, his razor-sharp gaze sweeping across the 3D map. “An excessive number will increase oxygen consumption and attract the attention of every ancient magical trap. A small, elite vanguard is the only key capable of threading through the narrow crevices of the death formation.”
— Spatial support to teleport and bypass phase-shifted spatial seals.
— Extreme frost power to freeze the surging corrosive death currents erupting from leyline acupuncture points.
— Stealth and absolute concealment capabilities to slip past guard posts and the magic-eye watchtowers of the terracotta legions.
— And finally, an explosive burst of sacred holy energy to purify the dark curses clinging to millennium-old stone walls.
As Lin Feng finished speaking, the air in the conference room froze solid. Everyone understood the weight behind the criteria the youth had just listed. This was no ordinary exploratory mission. It was a signed death warrant before ever stepping foot into the gates of hell.
Five to six people. Raiding a thousand meters underground, confronting tens of thousands of ancient war machines, enduring a death pressure capable of tearing apart human brains, and most importantly: virtually guaranteed no return.
This was a literal “nine deaths, zero lives” mission. Anyone stepping through those tomb gates held a guaranteed one-way ticket to the netherworld. The survival rate, according to the most advanced military tactical systems, didn’t even reach one percent.
“Nine deaths and zero lives... No, calling it ten deaths without a single survivor is more accurate. In reality, ten die and none return...” An elderly colonel with white hair muttered, his trembling hands lifting a cup of hot tea only to put it down without taking a sip. His dim eyes sank into distant memories of comrades fallen in past wars.
No one spoke another word. The heavy burden of national defense and the lives of tens of thousands of compatriots weighed heavily on the shoulders of the commanders, but demanding the sacrifice of elite lives into a deadly trap remained a decision too cruel to voice out loud. The senior generals exchanged glances filled with anguish, helplessness, and pain. Deep grooves of time and the heavy weight of war etched themselves onto every solemn face.
Lin Feng stood quietly beneath the spotlight of the sandbox. He understood the internal conflict tearing through these old generals’ hearts. The military did not lack brave men, but powerhouses capable of meeting the stringent requirements of a suicide squad were exceedingly rare. More than anyone, he knew how perilous this journey was, and uttering this proposal demanded a ruthless cruelty toward himself.
Yet he had no other choice. If he failed to act, this world would plunge into a sea of fire once the seals completely shattered.
“If the generals have no tactical objections, allow me to announce the preliminary roster...” Lin Feng took a deep breath, preparing to shatter the oppressive atmosphere.
Thump!
A combat boot struck the floor with absolute decisiveness, cutting off Lin Feng’s words mid-sentence. The sound was sharp, clanging, and echoed through every corner of the large conference room like a lightning strike in a cloudless sky.
Everyone startled and abruptly jerked their heads up.
From a shadowed corner at the edge of the room, where the darkness of the VIP seating fell, a tall figure suddenly stood up. He wore the dark green field uniform characteristic of Super-Tier special forces, his chest pinned with gleaming metallic medals that glinted with a cold light. His chiseled, weathered face bore hawk-like eyes flashing with an overwhelming, resolute light.
It was the Iron-Blood General—Lei Ye, one of the strongest lightning and close-combat powerhouses of the Southern Military Region, a man who had single-handedly swept through thousands of deep-sea monsters during the harbor defense battle last year.
Lei Ye did not look at the other generals staring in astonishment. Striding with a footing as steady as mountains, he marched straight toward the central holographic sandbox where Lin Feng stood. Every footfall on the floor produced a dull, echoing thud like a war drum urging the hot blood in everyone’s chest.
Reaching the edge of the sandbox, Lei Ye wasted no words. His massive hand, calloused from weathering and rigorous magic training, slammed heavily onto the floating 3D map.
Boom!
The sandbox table trembled violently, the rays simulating the mausoleum’s terrain flashing and wobbling under the terrifying shockwave of that blow.
And then, amid the pin-drop silence of the conference room, Lei Ye’s deep, resonant voice, brimming with towering heroic spirit, rang out:
“This mission... I will shoulder it!”
The words fell like an iron boulder splashing into a stagnant lake, sending powerful mental shockwaves crashing into the minds of every officer present. Lieutenant General Xu Xiong’s expression shifted drastically as he half-rose to intervene:
“Lei Ye! Have you lost your mind? You are the pillar of the southern defense line! If you...”
“Commander!” Lei Ye snapped his head around, fixing his unwavering gaze directly on his former commander without a shred of hesitation or fear. The corners of his mouth curved into an unbridled, slightly reckless yet immensely magnanimous smile of a soldier who had looked death in the eye. “You know the situation better than anyone. We no longer have time to scout or train rookies. The Ancient Imperial Mausoleum needs men with the guts to die, and I... am the prime candidate!”
Lin Feng narrowed his eyes slightly, staring intently at the middle-aged man standing opposite him. The distant coldness in Lin Feng’s eyes vanished, replaced by a profound wave of respect for this general’s courage to stare down the fear of death.
“General Lei, you must know that once you step down there, the chance of returning to the surface is virtually zero. You may leave behind all your current glory, family, and achievements,” Lin Feng said slowly in a low, cautionary tone.
Lei Ye threw back his head and laughed heartily. His laughter echoed through the conference room’s soundproofing, carrying the liberation and pride of a powerhouse standing at the peak of human combat strength:
“Glory? What damn glory? When death comes knocking on every door in this city, will my single glory save anyone? Lin Feng, you brat, you dare put your puny life on the line, could an old man like me be afraid of dying before a kid?”
He paused, bringing his massive hand down in a resounding slap on Lin Feng’s shoulder—a force heavy enough to make Lin Feng’s shoulder dip slightly, yet his expression remained unchanged.
“Besides, my violent explosive lightning magic combined with your abilities is the best key to smash open the final sealing door. Don’t you dare cross me off this list, or don’t blame me for pulling out my iron mace and smashing this conference room to pieces before I even get to the tomb!”
Witnessing Lei Ye’s fierce yet righteous demeanor, several generals in the room felt a stinging warmth prickle at the corners of their eyes. They understood Lei Ye’s temperament—once he made up his mind, ten oxen couldn’t drag him back. He was the embodiment of unyielding, indomitable military spirit, humanity’s sturdiest bulwark against apocalyptic doom.
Lieutenant General Xu Xiong slumped back into his chair, his aged hand trembling as he lit a cigarette. The hazy smoke obscured his tear-reddened, conflicted eyes. He knew he could not stop him, and deep down, he understood this was the only correct choice in this fatal gamble of survival.
“Fine... In that case, this old man will prepare the special authorization paperwork.” Lieutenant General Xu Xiong spoke in a hoarse voice, laden with inexpressible sorrow. “The Suicide Squad... is officially established as of this moment!”
Lin Feng took a deep breath, a peerless sharp glint flashing in his eyes. He gave Lei Ye a firm nod, then turned toward the floating 3D sandbox, where the parameters of the Ancient Imperial Mausoleum began spinning wildly according to the new setup.
“General Lei has taken the lead. There are still four positions left in the Suicide Squad.” Lin Feng turned back to face the entire room, his cold voice carrying absolute authority. “Those who dare to step up, please step into the light!”
Outside the conference room, wild gales suddenly began to roar across the night sky of the Southern Military Region Headquarters. Thick layers of dark clouds rolled in to obscure the moonlight, carrying portents of a bloody tempest about to overturn the continent. And deep within the eye of that storm, men wielding the most powerful bloodlines stepped forward with unwavering strides toward the gates of hell, where the destiny of all humanity would be decided in the blink of an eye.