With that remark from you, it's enough

Hearing Chen Yuan's words, Su Qi didn't take it too seriously and merely responded calmly, "It's my duty. I'll do my best."

Yet Chen Yuan seemed to have been given a shot of confidence. He nodded firmly, his eyes regaining their spark as he pushed down both exhaustion and despair.

"Your word is enough!"

Without another word, he turned sharply and returned to his post.

"Little Liu! Contact Su Muxue immediately. In this ashen wasteland, she's practically the only one who can move freely. Send her all the coordinates of the lost shelters."

"Also, transmit the source-beast tide movement data we have on hand. Have her and the other free-roaming proctors distribute the intel and issue warnings at top speed."

The young communications officer, Little Liu, hesitated. "Commander Chen, Su Muxue will likely comply without issue, but the other free agents aren’t under our chain of command..."

"Just do it—why the hesitation?" Chen Yuan’s voice boomed like thunder, his eyes flashing. "I know they operate independently, but this is an emergency. Special circumstances call for special measures—understand? Tell them to alert all field teams and shelters immediately. No holding positions—evacuate all trainees back to HQ at once! If necessary, abandon supplies!"

"Yes, sir!" The officer didn’t dare argue further and sprang into action.

"Medical team! All personnel on standby—prepare for mass casualties. Prioritize resources for critical cases."

"Logistics! Inventory all remaining supplies, especially high-energy rations and clean water. Also, assess HQ’s remaining capacity and draft zoning plans for evacuees!"

"Security! Raise perimeter defenses to maximum alert. Activate all weapon systems. Report any anomalies or unidentified approaching targets immediately. Any source-beasts breaching the perimeter are cleared for immediate engagement!"

Orders flowed from Chen Yuan’s lips—clear, forceful, and precise.

His mind, previously weighed down by despair at the appearance of a tenth-tier source-beast, now raced at full speed.

Though the staff showed signs of exhaustion after over four hours of relentless work, they now moved with renewed vigor—swift and methodical, as if injected with adrenaline.

Su Qi didn’t interrupt Chen Yuan’s command.

He had no expertise in large-scale coordination.

Better to leave specialized tasks to the professionals.

Finding a relatively clean patch of metal flooring behind the command platform, he sat down and closed his eyes, focusing on recovering his energy.

Restoring soulforce wasn’t instantaneous.

The active effect of his "Path’s End Spear" was undeniably overpowered—but its drawbacks were just as glaring.

First, it had to hit.

Though it had a "sure-hit" correction, enemies with higher strength attributes than Su Qi could forcibly resist the lock-on.

The molten-rock behemoth clearly outclassed him in raw power, but its brain seemed underdeveloped—or perhaps it was just overconfident.

It had assumed its thick hide could tank the blow.

The result? A single spear strike pierced its core.

Second, the cost was staggering.

That one attack had drained nearly 80% of Su Qi’s soulforce. Now, his soul sea resembled a beach at low tide, vast stretches left barren and dry.

If not for his soul strength far surpassing others of his tier, he wouldn’t have been able to unleash that spear at the seventh rank at all.

Liu Yuan sat quietly beside him, her large eyes curiously scanning the command center thick with tension.

She didn’t understand the complex orders or the flickering data on the screens, but she could feel the oppressive weight of an impending storm.

Time crawled by, each second stretching unnaturally long.

Reports came in rapid succession.

"Report! Squad Six has escorted thirty-seven examinees to headquarters! Identity verification underway!"

"Report! Squad Three has encountered a large-scale Sourcebeast attack in Sector C-17—requesting immediate backup! Coordinates XXX, XXX! They’re escorting over fifty examinees!"

Chen Yuan swiftly marked the location on the sand table, his fingers flying across it. "Security Team Two, move out now! Bring them back at all costs!"

"Report! Squad Five has made contact with a shelter that lost communication over two hours ago. Evacuation in progress—ETA twenty minutes to HQ!"

The comms crackled with overlapping voices, static, the snarls of Sourcebeasts, and the occasional shouts or explosions from the field.

Gradually, more squads arrived with examinees in tow.

Most returned in disarray.

Some bore dried black bloodstains—impossible to tell if it was theirs or the beasts’.

Others wore tattered combat uniforms, their exposed skin marred by gruesome wounds.

The young examinees’ faces were etched with relief, exhaustion, and lingering terror.

As they stepped into the brightly lit headquarters hall, the sudden sense of safety snapped their frayed nerves. Many collapsed on the spot, tears they’d held back now pouring out in choking sobs.

A few resolute fighters, after confirming all examinees were safe, crumpled unconscious—promptly carried away by waiting medics.

The chaos unfolded with grim efficiency.

Su Qi remained deep in recovery, seemingly detached from the surrounding clamor.

The gun, Road’s End, lay coldly by his side, its dark metal gleaming faintly under the sterile lights.

Its mechanics somewhat mirrored an air conditioner—the initial summoning cost far exceeded the energy needed to sustain it.

This was a universal rule in the Card World. Otherwise, Cardbearers might as well rename themselves "Card-Switchers."

Imagine hoarding hundreds of cards with varied effects and cycling through them frenetically—a ludicrous thought.

"Chen Yuan, our shelter team... we brought back fifty-one, but... three examinees are critically injured. They... they might not make it..."

A middle-aged Card Master in charge of the shelter reported hoarsely, his smoke-and-blood-streaked face twisted with grief and guilt. His arm was wrapped in thick bandages, blood seeping through.

Chen Yuan’s expression darkened, his eyes dimming briefly. Still, he waved a hand, his voice rough. "And your squad’s casualties?"

The man lowered his head. "We... lost nine. Eight severely wounded. The remaining thirty-plus... all lightly injured."

Chen Yuan let out a heavy sigh and patted his shoulder. Although the combat personnel at the shelter had suffered even heavier losses, this supervisor had prioritized reporting the situation of the examinees first.

Was this the responsibility and duty of an adult, or was it because the potential of their generation of fighters might have already reached its limit, while those young kids still held boundless possibilities for the future?

"Do what we can and leave the rest to fate. As long as there’s still a breath left in them, send them straight to the medical division."

He turned back and continued staring at the glowing dots on the screen, each representing a squad.

They were converging from all directions, struggling their way toward headquarters.