Although the small town had been ravaged by artillery fire not long ago, it did not stop people from living their lives.

Unlike the vibrant atmosphere inside the town, the southwest border defense headquarters located within the city was a stark contrast.

At this moment, the headquarters' hall was full of people, but no one dared to speak, and even their breathing was subdued.

The only sounds in the hall were a hoarse shouting and the crack of a whip.

In front of the hall, a shirtless man was lying prone on a long bench, while another person beside him was vigorously swinging a whip, putting all his strength into lashing the prone man.

This person was none other than the Commander-in-Chief of the Southwest Border Defense, known as the Grand Marshal.

The Grand Marshal cursed while lashing.

He did not stop until the man he was whipping stopped screaming. The Grand Marshal panted heavily; even beating someone was exhausting work.

Seeing the Grand Marshal stop, someone beside him picked up a tea bowl and handed it to the Grand Marshal to quench his thirst.

The Grand Marshal took a sip and then kicked the beaten, unrecognizable man off the long bench.

The man rolled over, landing on his back. Though he had fainted from pain, the impact woke him up again.

He wailed, trying to lift his back off the ground to ease the pain from his wounds.

He mumbled something incoherently.

“You damned bastard, you dared to embezzle my money. If I don't handle you, in a few days you'll probably sell me off for money!”

After saying that, he whipped the unconscious man twice more, making sure he was completely motionless.

The dozens of officers standing below did not dare to speak. The Grand Marshal scanned the crowd, and everyone lowered their heads to avoid his gaze.

Only then did the Grand Marshal walk towards the central seat, satisfied.

The officer who had handed the tea rushed forward to support the Grand Marshal.

The Grand Marshal turned back and said, “Ada, where the hell has your brother run off to this time? Didn't I tell you to bring him back to me?”

The officer bowed and replied, “Father! I've already sent people to find him. He should be back soon.”

This man was indeed the Grand Marshal's eldest son.

“Damn it! When he returns, I'll beat him to death. Didn't I tell him to stop running around all the time? Why doesn’t he learn from me how to lead troops and fight battles!”

The Grand Marshal was furious, and no one dared to speak, not even his eldest son.

At this moment, the youngest son, the Junior Marshal, and his entourage entered, followed by the adjutant.

As soon as the Grand Marshal saw this son, he got so angry that he threw the blood-stained whip at him.

The Junior Marshal dodged quickly and shouted, “Dad! What are you doing!”

“This is the military camp, who's your damn dad!”

The Junior Marshal snapped to attention and gave a crisp, standard military salute to the Grand Marshal, shouting “Grand Marshal.”

Then, he smiled mischievously, picked up the whip from the ground, and walked towards the Grand Marshal. The corpse of the officer who had just been beaten to death blocked his way.

Without even looking to see who it was, the Junior Marshal kicked the corpse aside and walked up to the Grand Marshal, handing over the whip.

The adjutant who had followed the Junior Marshal glanced at the body on the ground with a complex expression, then looked at the other officers in the room. The others also avoided the adjutant's gaze.

The Grand Marshal took the whip and gave a light flick towards the Junior Marshal, but it wasn't with much force.

The Junior Marshal let out a symbolic cry of pain and then squeezed up to his older brother, the eldest son, and started massaging the Grand Marshal's shoulders.

“Grand Marshal, I haven't caused any trouble. You can't hit me again.”

The Grand Marshal snorted but enjoyed the shoulder massage from his son.

He looked up at the adjutant and asked, “He didn't cause any trouble?”

The adjutant replied, “Since the last time he got whipped by you, the Junior Marshal hasn't caused any trouble. Today, he was just bored, so I accompanied him for a walk!”

The Grand Marshal nodded in satisfaction, then got up and walked away, ignoring the people standing there. The Junior Marshal promptly ran ahead to lead the way for the Grand Marshal.

After the Grand Marshal left, everyone finally breathed a sigh of relief.

The adjutant looked at the dead soldier and called over two privates to carry the body away, then waved his hand to dismiss the others.

The officers left in pairs and threes, with a few approaching the adjutant to talk and walking out together.

In the blink of an eye, everyone was gone, leaving only the eldest son standing there, his face ashen. In the end, he could only turn and leave.

The adjutant walked out with a few others and finally learned what had happened to the man who had just been beaten to death. It was said that he had embezzled over a dozen silver coins from the Grand Marshal, and thus was beaten to death.

One person looked around to make sure there were no outsiders and said to the adjutant, “Sir, since the Grand Marshal reassigned you from commanding troops to serving as his adjutant, life has been unbearable for the brothers.”

Several others echoed this sentiment.

The man lowered his voice and continued, “I don't know when us brothers will stop suffering from this tyranny. The Grand Marshal truly doesn't treat us like human beings!”

The adjutant patted the man's back, indicating for him to stop talking.

The man wanted to say something more but was kicked in the buttocks by the adjutant, who laughed and cursed, “Stop your whining and do your job properly.”

Then he pretended to kick the others, who laughed and ran away.

The adjutant looked back at the brightly lit headquarters, put away his smile, and turned towards the shadows, quickly disappearing into the darkness.