In a World Without Lu Nianxin

The Unyielding Vanguard

Mike pondered deeply—what made an army truly formidable?

Was it raw power, advanced weaponry, or sheer numbers? No. Their strength lay in something far greater: an indomitable will, an unbreakable resilience in the face of adversity, absolute obedience to military command, and unwavering trust in their comrades.

Strength was never about the body or the gear—it was forged in the mind and soul. Humanity, fragile as it was, became unstoppable when armed with unshakable conviction. With willpower alone, a person could transcend the limits of flesh, accomplishing the impossible.

But for all their spirit, their greatest weakness had always been their bodies—too fragile, too human. And their equipment? Outmatched, outdated, and woefully insufficient. Against enemies wielding superior weapons and greater physical might, their only advantage had been their near-divine resolve.

Until now.

The arrival of the Defender Legion changed everything.

These warriors were not just soldiers—they were battle-forged titans. As martial body cultivators, they were not merely strong; they were giants, towering over ordinary men, with endurance that could outlast even the most grueling sieges.

And their equipment? It was nothing short of legendary.

Four pieces of A-rank battle gear, each a masterpiece of warcraft. With these, they wouldn't just endure enemy fire—they would stand unshaken, as if forged from the very steel of the battlefield. Against lesser weapons, their defenses were impenetrable.

Mike ran the calculations in his mind. An army armed with unbreakable bodies, unshakable will, and nearly indestructible armor... how could he possibly lose?

He clenched his fist, feeling an intoxicating surge of power—but then a realization hit him.

Where was the enemy?

For days, for weeks, Mike had done nothing but grow stronger. Before the arrival of the Defenders, he had already reached the peak of combat power within the city—perhaps even nationwide.

Now, with the apocalypse barely held at bay, Jinling stood in an unprecedented era of peace. No rival factions, no battles, no wars.

Mike blinked.

"…What the hell am I supposed to do with all this strength?"

A top-tier military unit had arrived at the most peaceful moment of the city's history.

He exhaled sharply, muttering, "What kind of timing is this?"

But as he was about to lament the absurdity of his situation, something clicked in his mind.

No.

This army had arrived at exactly the right time.

Because his greatest enemy had never been another faction or a rival warlord.

His greatest enemy had always been the apocalypse itself.

The battles for territory, the skirmishes against hostile survivors—those were never more than distractions. The true war was against extinction.

A leader's duty was never to conquer. It was to protect.

The purpose of warriors was not to kill—it was to defend.

Mike let out a slow breath, shaking his head with a small chuckle. "I still have a lot to learn. I should've realized this from the start."

This wasn't an army of five thousand extra mouths to feed.

It was five thousand new pillars of strength.

A force to defend the people. A shield against the apocalypse.

Mike felt his thoughts crystallize into certainty. No longer hesitating, he strode down the building's stairwell, heading toward the Legion Recruitment Grounds.

The location had been carefully selected—just beyond the safe zone, away from wandering survivors, with a vast open space prepared for military operations.

And now, it was time.

Mike opened his recruitment panel and issued the command.

Summon: Defender Legion.

A brilliant golden light erupted across the field. It poured like liquid radiance, coalescing into towering figures. One by one, they emerged—warriors clad in battle-worn armor, their presence like mountains of steel.

As the last glow faded, Mike's breath hitched.

They were colossal.

Each soldier stood over two meters tall, their bodies broad and built like living fortresses. Encased in gleaming metal, they bore massive blades, unbreakable shields, and great warbows slung across their backs.

They were not men—they were legends.

The battlefield had birthed them. The apocalypse had forged them.

Their silence was deafening.

Not a single word was spoken, yet their presence filled the air with a crushing, unrelenting pressure. They stood like 5,000 living statues, unmoving, unreadable—warriors sculpted from iron will.

Their armor, under the blood-red sun, gleamed with a cold, merciless light. White tiger emblems snarled across their chest plates, almost alive, almost watching.

They were not just soldiers.

They were gods of war.

Mike felt the weight of their presence settle over him, raw and unfiltered. His mind reeled. His pulse quickened.

"…Damn."

He sucked in a deep breath, forcing himself to stay composed.

This—this was insane.

Even compared to the cutting-edge precision of the Tech Legion, the primal dominance exuding from these warriors was something else entirely.

There was no technology to hide behind. No cybernetics. No enhancements.

Only raw, unshackled power.

Only sheer, unrelenting will.

Mike gazed over the assembled warriors, feeling an unfamiliar chill crawl down his spine.

Then, suddenly—

A thought struck him.

A ridiculous, absurd, absolutely hilarious thought.

If Lu Nianxin were here right now…

Mike smirked, shaking his head as he imagined it.

That guy would be losing his damn mind.

4o