When it came to chain triggers, Renyu sank into profound despondency. He realised the Evolution Battlefield's verdict upon him was like invisible shackles, confining him to perpetual reserve status. That mantle of ‘serving others’ seemed impossible to shed. His attribute points had neared their limit, leaving scant room for future advancement. In this era where machine power surpassed human limits, individual capability seemed so insignificant before the industrial tide—possessing a base meant securing an initial strategic advantage in this world.

  ‘Without the logistical processing talent to rapidly manufacture machines, I fear I truly couldn't sustain myself,’ Renyu mused inwardly. At that moment, Yun Chenhe spoke up: ‘Renyu, actually, your tech tree could branch towards chip development.’

  ‘Hmm?’ Renyu perked up, gesturing for him to continue. Yun Chenhe explained, "We're not like conscripts. The Evolution Battlefield won't send us into combat empty-handed, nor will it let us return empty-handed. Naturally, we can't physically carry ten-thousand-tonne machinery either—the organisation conducted tests and concluded that a twenty-centimetre radius around the body constitutes the absolute boundary for traversal. Objects beyond this range cannot be transported, but small personal items—like books containing vital data—can be brought back."

  Renyu frowned. ‘Why haven't chips become widespread?’

  Yun Chenhe's expression grew grave. "Nuclear materials and chip technology are strategic resources of the information age, accessible only to officers of colonel rank and above. Not a single radioactive atom could be found throughout the entire area for officers and warrant officers. As for nuclear technology...‘ He paused meaningfully, ’ It is strictly controlled, much like the real-world Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty. And chips? Even if brought back, trading them is forbidden."

  Renyu immediately grasped the deeper implications of this technological blockade. Storage technology could only be utilised by those who fully mastered its principles. Even if storage chips were handed over to others, they would be worthless scrap metal if the recipient could not manufacture reading devices. Only officers who had mastered semiconductor technology could truly utilise the technical data stored within the chips in the mission world.

  However, considering the complex processes involved in semiconductor manufacturing... no, wait. Besides chip storage, there was another method. Renyu suddenly realised another possibility: ‘Then... what about magnetic tapes?’

  Yun Chenhe nodded approvingly: ‘Precisely. The greatest disparity between the Colonel and the Lieutenant Colonel lies here—a standard tape cartridge can store up to 2.5 gigabytes. While the Lieutenant Colonel agonised over cramming information onto paper, the Colonel had already begun storing data on magnetic tape.’

  This seemingly minor technological gap created a world of difference in the knowledge each could carry. Renyu fell deep in thought, as if envisioning a new era where human memory would be utterly liberated. He murmured to himself, ‘Where is the Evolution Battlefield ultimately leading us?’

  Hearing this query, Yun Chenhe replied meaningfully, ‘Who can say? But have you considered why we, from different times and spaces, have been gathered here? Why have we been summoned to this Evolution Battlefield? And another question: under the rules of the Evolution Battlefield, we all belong to the same combat zone. But what similarities do we share that led to our classification in the same zone?’ These words struck Renyu like a bolt of lightning, hinting at a crucial clue he'd overlooked.

  Yun Chenhe chewed his crisps deliberately. ‘Regardless of whether you see black, white, or yellow-skinned individuals before you, we Combat Evolution Officers share two common traits.’ He raised one finger. "First, we all originate from Earth. ‘Then he raised a second finger. ’More importantly, despite divergent historical trajectories, our technological development paths are strikingly similar—from the Steam Age, through the Electrical Age, to the Information Revolution, halting just before Controlled Nuclear Fusion. Our histories may differ, but the technological eras we inhabit are nearly identical."

  These words struck Renyu like a bolt of lightning. He suddenly realised that although the officers on the Evolution Battlefield hailed from different spacetime continuums—potentially separated by centuries in AD chronology, with vastly divergent timelines—their technological levels were astonishingly comparable. No warriors were wielding cold steel, nor visitors from future timelines.

  ‘Whether it be the Son of Heaven Covenant or the Knights of God,’ Yun Chenhe's voice grew hushed, ‘there exists an unsettling conjecture: our sector is merely a specific temporal fragment within the Evolution Battlefield.’ He paused. ‘As for those battlefields populated solely by future humans—though unconfirmed—spaces inhabited by past humans have been verified.’

  ‘How was that confirmed?’ Renyu pressed.

  ‘A captain, serving as an examiner during a promotion mission, engaged a Combat Evolution Officer from a past era.’

  ‘And the outcome?’ Renyu demanded.

  A confident curve touched Yun Chenhe's lips. "What do you suppose? You should be well aware of industrial civilisation's might—any obstacle before a torrent of steel is crushed to dust. Our side fielded one commissioned captain bearing a colonial-era medal as examiner. Opposing him were sixteen commissioned officers: five captains and eleven lieutenants. Ultimately, thirteen of them perished in battle, while three fled back to the Evolution Battlefield in panic, relying on their equipment. It was only because that lieutenant survived that we learned of this incident."

  Renyu sucked in a sharp breath. Yun Chenhe's words carried another implication: officers engaged in combat with future humans likely perished without exception, making it impossible to confirm the existence of future human territories to this day. This inference sent a wave of dizziness through Renyu—if true, how vast must the scale of the Evolution Battlefield be? How many sentient beings were vying within it? He suddenly felt like a frog at the bottom of a well, utterly ignorant of the starry sky above.

  Renyu struggled to process this intelligence. As a minuscule being with a mere fifty-year lifespan, confined to a domain of mere millions of square kilometres (he had never set foot beyond his homeland), he had been abruptly hurled into this battlefield—timeless, boundless, traversing countless parallel dimensions. It was as if an ant, accustomed to dwelling within a wall crack, had been placed atop a speeding train. The vast panorama unfolding before him utterly shattered every boundary of his understanding.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  The Evolution Battlefield was too vast. Organisations like the Son of Heaven Covenant and the Knights of God were merely small cliques carved out by Earthlings at some ‘wellhead’. It was as if Earthlings had taken one of the Evolution Battlefield's wellheads and subdivided it into several smaller territories. The Evolution Battlefield itself recognised none of these self-styled alliances—hence these organisations' strongholds received no light-screen protection, relying solely on manpower for defence.

  At that moment, a conscripted soldier in a waiter's uniform strode forward with precise steps, executing a crisp military salute. ‘Reporting to both officers: an urgent mobilisation order has arrived from the Azure Dragon Society headquarters.’ He presented two sealed telegrams.

  Yun Chenhe took the telegram, his eyes darting over the contents before he produced a silver-plated lighter. The moment the flame flared, the document was reduced to ashes. Renyu, observing this, borrowed the lighter from Yun Chenhe and burned his own telegram with fluid, seamless movements.

  ‘Settle the bill.’ Yun Chenhe placed three grams of purple gold on the table—the price was lower since certain grey-market items hadn't been ordered. This seemingly ordinary restaurant served as an unspoken venue for illicit transactions among officers, and even the waitstaff carefully selected conscripts in disguise.

  Upon arriving at the Canglong Society headquarters via steam train through the boundary light screen, Renyu was awestruck by the sprawling complex. While the Xinhua News Agency's headquarters used the Tiananmen walls as its outer facade, with an interior layout reminiscent of Zhongnanhai, the Canglong Society's scale was even more colossal—a miniature Great Wall wound around artificial mountains, its interior a replica of the Nanjing Imperial Palace. Every upturned eave and bracket system proclaimed the organisation's formidable resources.

  Guided by conscripts, the pair traversed successive courtyards to a seemingly ordinary study. With the creak of mechanical gears, an entire wall of bookshelves slid aside, revealing a concealed lift shaft. As the lift descended, Renyu gazed through the iron bars at the rapidly ascending concrete walls and quipped, ‘Just how deep does this labyrinth go?’

  Equally disoriented by the intricate pathways, Yun Chenhe chuckled awkwardly. ‘Truth be told, this is my first time here too.’

  ‘With specifications like this, it could likely withstand a strategic nuclear strike.’ Renyu surveyed the thick protective structures around them.

  ‘This architectural style is modelled after the doomsday bunkers from my era,’ Yun Chenhe explained. ‘The original design was said to withstand a direct hit from a million-tonne nuclear weapon.’

  Renyu nodded slightly, adding with a hint of teasing, ‘You city folk certainly have your ways.’

  After an indeterminate period, the lift finally emitted a crisp “clack” and came to a steady halt. Renyu and Yun Chenhe stepped onto the gleaming white tiles of the briefing hall. The sight before them made his breath catch—forty-five officers stood solemnly in the spacious chamber, their insignia—seven lieutenant colonels and thirty-two majors—glistening under the lights. He and Yun Chenhe immediately stood to attention, executing the most precise military salute to the senior officers present.

  Xiao Long gestured welcomingly: ‘Please take a seat, gentlemen.’

  Renyu noticed six commissioned officers seated in the corner of the hall and made their way towards that section. As they took their places, Renyu keenly registered the varied glances from several colleagues: three lieutenants regarded them with scrutiny and suspicion; two captains offered a friendly welcome; and one captain merely gave them an indifferent glance before turning his attention elsewhere.

  ‘We shall continue today's meeting,’ Xiao Long's voice brought silence to the hall. The task assignments for the Lieutenant Colonels and Majors have been finalised. There are currently no colleagues requiring promotion. Next, we shall discuss a significant exploration mission assigned to our Society.’

  His tone suddenly grew grave: "During the mission cycle before last, ten Second Lieutenants within our Society who had long delayed their promotions triggered a high-difficulty advancement mission. In that exceptional mission, six ultimately made the ultimate sacrifice, while three successfully advanced..." Renyu followed Xiao Long's gaze and instantly recognised the three lieutenants observing with scrutinising eyes as the survivors.

  ‘As for the final second lieutenant,’ Xiao Long continued, "he inadvertently triggered a rare consecutive mission. Based on current intelligence, this consecutive mission is projected to last at least eighty years, spanning four mission cycles. ‘He paused briefly. ’In the last cycle, we dispatched eight lieutenants poised for advancement. Ultimately, only four lieutenants survived, with two successfully advancing and returning. Yuan Cong, Xu Le—which of you shall brief us on this mission's circumstances?"

  The two captains exchanged a glance. Renyu recognised them as the officers who had welcomed him earlier, and a sudden sense of foreboding welled within him.

  Captain Yuan Cong rose slowly, his voice resonating clearly through the briefing chamber: ‘This is a world rich in magical elements. Its planetary volume is approximately three times that of Earth, with gravity at roughly 1.2G and atmospheric pressure reaching three times that of our planet. A vast primary continent spans an area equivalent to three Asias. Politically, it exists in a typical feudal era, divided among dozens of kingdoms and principalities of varying sizes.’

  ‘Though their metallurgical techniques permit the forging of fine steel weapons, such equipment is typically reserved for elite units. Ordinary local forces often wield only inferior, copper-clad arms. This planet possesses no satellite like the Moon, yet it boasts a ring system akin to Saturn's. When night falls, that luminous girdle encircling the planet glows brilliantly across the night sky.’

  Renyu's expression turned peculiar; it sounded like a setting plucked straight from a fantasy novel.

  Yuan Cong continued, "That describes the surface conditions. More peculiar still is the vast cavernous layer beneath the planet's crust, where life also thrives. The entire planet is saturated with a distinctive substance known as “magical elements”...

  Based on our explorations, the planet categorises magical elements into four fundamental types: Water, Fire, Wind, and Earth. Additionally, Light, Dark, and Wood elemental magic exist. This world blends Western medieval feudal systems with Eastern cultural traits reminiscent of the Spring and Autumn period. There are lords, knights, and mages. Churches are proclaiming that all elemental powers originate from the gods, alongside various elemental guilds. Stranger still are the diverse races: in the northern snowfields, beast warriors ride grey wolves, their fangs bared; in the southern jungles, humanoid creatures can instantly condense elements beneath their feet to form spring-like devices for leaping—their arms can even sprout magical feathers within a second or two, forming temporary wings."

  ‘These are not the elves of Western legends in our world,’ Yuan Cong emphasised, ‘but the unique “Feathered Folk” of this realm. It is said that high-ranking Feathered Folk can even generate wings directly from their backs, freeing their hands entirely to soar through the air. Their prowess in both magic and archery far surpasses that of humans.’

  Renyu finally couldn't resist interrupting: ‘Just how potent is this magic in practice?’