og Entry 1: Before the Storm - Sunken Jade Pavilion, Year 124 of the Azure Dragon Dynasty


    The Elder Council has decreed it. We are to join the Northern Alliance war against the Scarlet Moon Sect. Our small Sunken Jade Pavilion, nestled amongst the mountain peaks, will be thrown into the meat grinder of the battlefield. I, Jiang Feng, a mere disciple specializing in formations, am to be a cog in their machine. I''ve spent years studying the flows of sheng fui, the hidden energies of the land, striving to harmonize them with the grand formations. I envisioned my life spent in study and creation, not war. Still, obedience is the bedrock of our sect. Perhaps I can use this experience to broaden my understanding of formations in a combat setting. I''ll record my experiences diligently, hoping to find some value amidst the chaos. I have been assigned to a small team, alongside other formation masters.


    Log Entry 2: The Tide Turns - Frontlines of the Obsidian Wastes, Year 125


    The war is… unlike anything I imagined. The scale is staggering. Mountains tremble under the weight of colliding energies. Here, on the front lines of the Obsidian Wastes, the resources are near infinite. Talisman paper, spirit ink, jade cores, they flow like rivers. But for what, the lives of our disciples are like pebbles in the mud. I’ve been tasked with bolstering defensive formations, crafting barriers against the Scarlet Moon Sect’s onslaught. The first battle was a blur of chaos. I remember the screams, the scent of scorched earth, the feel of damp earth and the constant, gnawing fear. But I also remember the way the land responded to my formations. I saw how the qi can be bent and shaped. It has been horrifying, yet... fascinating.


    Log Entry 3: Learning Through Carnage - Frontlines, Year 125 (Later)


    I''ve been using the abundance of resources to experiment, pushing the boundaries of my understanding. I’ve studied the battle formations of the old masters, modified them, seen them shatter, then rebuilt them stronger. I''ve adapted them to this broken land, manipulating the Obsidian Wastes’ jagged terrain, turning it into weapons. I’ve learned to channel the chaotic energies of battle itself into the formations. I''m becoming skilled. But it comes at a cost. I see fellow disciples falling to the earth each day. The loss feels… distant. My focus now is survival, and the constant improvement of my craft. My team is down from five to three. Is it correct to think of it this way? I record the passing of each of my teammates, but the emotions I felt for each are... distant.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Log Entry 4: Pragmatism - Siege of the Bone Citadel, Year 126


    The war has become a brutal rhythm. Deploy, reinforce, adapt, retreat, and repeat. The resources have started to feel.. like nothing. Life has become nothing. I''ve become efficient, cold. My formations are no longer artistic expressions; they are tools of war, intricate systems designed for maximum devastation. I calculate probabilities, optimize placement, and minimize loss… within my team of three now two. It is more practical, more logical to think of my calculations rather than the fact that I have been spending months sleeping next to the corpses of my brothers. I’ve seen the raw power of the Scarlet Moon Sect''s cultivators firsthand. They are not so different from us. We are all cogs in a machine of senseless violence. It is… a lesson I will not forget.


    Log Entry 5: Departure - Foot of the Azure Dragon Mountains, Year 127


    The Northern Alliance has secured victory. Our sect is returning to the mountains. I have seen enough. I have learned enough. I no longer have any desire to return to the halls of the Sunken Jade Pavillion. I have filed the required paperwork, and collected the tokens that they would have given me. I leave before anyone asks me questions that I do not care to answer. I will walk my own path now. My knowledge of formations will be my guide and my shield. I will use the tools that I have honed to survive. I will no longer be a tool for others.


    Log Entry 6: The Winding Path - Dusty Road toward the Crimson Desert, Year 127


    The world feels different, seen through the eyes of a survivor. My senses are sharper, my reactions quicker. I''ve been tracking sheng fui flows, charting the local energies, and creating my own mobile array, a small formation that I weave into my very being. I no longer want to destroy and build, I will just improve myself. It enhances my senses, allowing me to quickly identify potential threats. I observe the world with a critical eye, noting the structures, the flows and the weaknesses. My body is slowly healing from the stress of the war, my spirit however…. remains the same. I have started a training regiment of walking for several hours a day and meditating in the sun to calm the chaotic energies within me. No emotional outbursts, no friendships, no mistakes. Just… survival.


    Log Entry 7: The Edge of Chaos - Borderlands of the Crimson Desert, Year 128


    I have arrived at the edge of the Crimson Desert. The land is harsh, unforgiving. The sheng fui is turbulent, volatile, mirroring the chaos of my past. I’ve been studying the local patterns, using the desert''s harshness to test my formations. I found an abandoned ruin of a long-forgotten sect and used that to practice new defensive formations. I will delve further in when I feel my skills have improved enough. I will continue to push the limits of what is possible, using both the knowledge I gained from my old sect and the techniques gleaned from the battlefield. I seek knowledge, power, and the means to ensure I am never reliant on others again.