Soulbound: Dual Cultivation

Chapter 346 346: Picking a squad

Lucas finished calling the last name and let the silence settle properly before speaking again, allowing the weight of the decision to sink into the twelve cultivators standing before him. Their expressions were varied, some resolute, some grim, and some quietly burning with anticipation, yet none of them looked away from him.

"You have been chosen," Lucas said calmly, his hands clasped behind his back as he faced them. "Not because you are expendable, and not because you are convenient, but because you have the strength, the discipline, and the mindset required for what lies ahead."

One of the women inclined her head slightly. "What is our next instruction."

Lucas appreciated the lack of unnecessary bravado. "For now, I want you to go to the quartermasters and request a special robe. It will be issued under my authority, so there should be no delay."

A man among them frowned slightly. "A robe, my lord. For battle."

Lucas nodded. "It will be light, reinforced, and marked only in a way that those who need to recognize you will be able to do so. In the chaos of battle, clear identification saves lives, especially when we are operating deep within collapsing fronts."

Another cultivator glanced at the others. "So we will be moving as a distinct unit."

"Yes," Lucas replied. "You will not be scattered across formations. You will move, fight, and withdraw together, unless I personally order otherwise."

The Ascendant among them spoke after a moment. "And when should we return."

Lucas met his gaze steadily. "Come meet me later this evening, here at the training grounds. Arrive prepared, rested, and with no unfinished business weighing on your minds."

One of the younger men hesitated before asking, "And if someone has doubts before then."

Lucas did not rebuke him. Instead, his voice softened slightly. "Then you come to me before nightfall and speak plainly. I would rather release someone now than carry hesitation into battle."

That seemed to ease something in the group, and several of them nodded quietly.

The silver-haired woman gave a small, knowing smile. "You are different from most commanders."

Lucas exhaled slowly. "War teaches you what arrogance costs very quickly."

He gestured lightly toward the palace corridors. "Go. Get the robes, attend to yourselves, and return when the sun begins to dip. From tonight onward, your paths will be tied closely to mine."

The twelve cultivators placed their fists to their chests in unison, the sound of armor and cloth brushing together echoing softly.

"We will not be late," one of them said firmly.

Lucas watched as they turned and departed, their figures moving with purpose rather than hesitation, and only when they were out of sight did he allow himself a quiet breath. This squad would walk with him into the heart of the coming storm, and whether history remembered them or not, he already knew that the choices made here would decide far more than a single battle.

As the training ground slowly emptied, Lucas remained where he was, his thoughts already shifting toward the evening to come and the path that none of them could turn away from anymore.

———

The sun had already begun to sink when the twelve cultivators returned, their figures emerging one after another into the training ground where Lucas waited. The light from the torches lining the courtyard reflected faintly off the special robes they now wore, subtle in design yet unmistakably distinct to anyone who knew what to look for. There was no noise beyond the soft rhythm of their footsteps, and the stillness itself carried a quiet sense of resolve.

Lucas turned to face them fully, his expression calm but attentive as he studied each of them once more. He had not chosen lightly, and seeing them assembled like this only reinforced the gravity of what was to come.

"You came on time," he said, his voice steady. "That is a good beginning."

Bartho, the ascendant ranked cultivator in the third stage stepped forward slightly, his posture straight and unyielding. Even without speaking, his presence was commanding, the pressure of a third stage Ascendant cultivated over countless battles settling naturally around him.

Lucas nodded once, then shifted his gaze to the silver-haired woman standing a little to the side. Her movements were quiet, controlled, and economical, the kind that spoke of someone who had learned to conserve strength rather than flaunt it.

"There are roles that must be established before we move any further," Lucas continued. "A unit without structure does not survive prolonged combat."

Jennifer raised her eyes when he looked at her, her expression composed and attentive. "I understand."

"You are the most experienced healer among us," Lucas said. "Not only in cultivation recovery, but in battlefield triage and emergency stabilization."

She inclined her head slightly. "I will keep them alive as long as their fate allows."

Lucas did not correct her wording. "From this moment onward, you will serve as the unit's dedicated healer. In battle, your safety will be a priority second only to the mission itself. If you fall, this unit loses more than half its survivability."

Jennifer exhaled slowly, then placed a hand over her chest. "I accept the responsibility."

Lucas then turned toward Bartho, meeting his eyes without hesitation. "As for leadership, I cannot be everywhere at once. When my attention is elsewhere, this unit will still need direction."

Bartho straightened further. "Say the word."

"You will act as vice leader," Lucas said. "You will command when I am engaged or incapacitated, and you will ensure orders are executed without delay or confusion."

A faint smile touched Bartho's lips, not of arrogance, but of readiness. "Then I will make certain no order is wasted."

Lucas looked across the rest of them, his gaze lingering just long enough on each face to make sure they understood that this was not ceremony for its own sake.

"From this point on, you answer to me," he said. "But you also answer to each other. What happens to one of you happens to all of you."

No one spoke, yet the unity among them was unmistakable.

Lucas gave a final nod, sealing the assignments in silence, fully aware that names and titles mattered less than what they would soon be forced to endure together.