None had expected that Song Zining would brazenly confront the dark army head-on this time. He chose the strongest point of the encirclement, a line held by a spider demon viscount of the first rank.
In this battle, he once again donned the Obsidian Silver Specter Mask, charging at the forefront of the entire army. His spear, neither gold nor jade, was wielded to its fullest extent, as swift as lightning and fierce as a dragon. He broke through the enemy’s center, leading his forces to break the siege and make their escape.
After breaking through the encirclement, Song Zining turned to cover the rear.
His deep gray Obsidian Silver armor was now drenched in crimson, his robe soaked in blood, both his and the enemy’s, indistinguishable from each other. Even the mask bore multiple cracks, testifying to the peril of the battle.
Song Zining stood quietly, leaning on his spear, facing the disorganized but still formidable dark race pursuers, at least half a division in strength. Behind him stood a dozen human powerhouses who refused to retreat with the main force.
He gazed straight ahead, his eyes not focusing on the multitude of the dark army, as if waiting for something.
The dark warriors rushing towards him suddenly halted a hundred meters away, parting like waves. A vampire count emerged. This rank was already a powerhouse capable of holding a stronghold on the battlefield, indicating that the dark races were willing to invest heavily to capture Song Zining.
“Surrender, and you might be granted the honor of being embraced by the esteemed prince. Otherwise, your end will be as a feast on the blood banquet,” the blood count said. At his collar was a small crown of flames, marking him as a member of the ancient Spurk clan, staunch supporters of the ancestral faction.
Song Zining’s response was to slowly raise his spear, instantly turning the surrounding area into an autumn chill, leaves falling and shimmering with the sharpness of blades. It seemed he did not care that his opponent was a powerful count, three levels above him, a gap that could render many attacks and defenses ineffective in both the Evernight and Dawn camps.
A dense aura of blood surged around the blood count, and vague images of land beasts appeared, roaring and surging, ready to manifest.
Suddenly, a clear and long sword hum echoed, a sharp sword intent shooting skyward, as if a divine weapon was unsheathing. Unbeknownst to all, a figure appeared on the western side of the battlefield, his body suffused with sword energy, his skin as white as jade, and his azure battle robe dazzling like the sky and the sea.
The blood count’s pale eyes drooped slightly, casting a heavy shadow. The newcomer exuded an overwhelming aura, a thirteen-level human warrior, one level below the count, but the count instinctively felt a great danger.
The standoff lasted only a moment. The blood count let out a sharp scream, retracted his blood aura, and vanished like smoke, retreating back to the dark army, appearing hundreds of meters away.
As the dark army began to retreat, the sword hum grew louder, like a downpour in a storm. A sapphire blade of light swept across, slicing through the dark warriors, spilling blood like a river.
The blue-clad young man, sheathing his radiant, crystal-like sword, smiled at the fleeing dark army before turning to look at Song Zining.
In the distance, the banners of the Imperial reinforcements appeared on the horizon.
Song Zining met the young man’s gaze, nodding slightly, but did not withdraw his domain or relax his grip on his spear.
The young man smiled, returning his sword to its scabbard, and said, “I always thought people who study the Celestial Transformation are a bit sneaky, but you’re different. You dared to charge directly with just a few troops, quite rare.”
His words carried both praise and mockery. Song Zining replied calmly, “Narrow paths are always conquered by the brave. That’s all there is to it.”
The young man’s smile broadened, his voice clear yet slightly low, “But I saw that, despite being surrounded these past days, you often looked towards the southwest.”
Song Zining’s eyes turned cold. He had sensed the presence of a strong Dawn follower trailing his forces for days, but they never showed themselves, confirming it was this blue-clad young man. So, even though he had just come to the rescue, Song Zining did not relax his guard.
“Seems like you’re heading to the Beast’s Slumber. Do you have someone important there? If so, tell me,” the young man said, smiling, “so I can go kill them.”
Song Zining remained unresponsive, his fingers not moving a bit. His face, hidden behind the mask, showed no emotion, his gaze shifting from the young man’s face to his neck, then to the uniquely styled sword.
Unbothered by Song Zining’s almost rude stare, the young man glanced at the approaching Imperial reinforcements, a hint of surprise in his voice, “The Qingyang Zhangs are here. I’ll take my leave. But Seventh Master Song is quite different from the legends, very interesting!” A flash of blue light, and he was tens of meters away.
As the reinforcements arrived, indeed the private army of the Zhang clan, led by a Level 12 warlord in his thirties. Seeing Song Zining and the dozen soldiers unharmed, he smiled, greeted Song Zining, and asked, “Who was that? His swordsmanship was truly powerful!”
The earlier sword move was a spectacle, blood spraying visibly from afar. Song Zining replied, “Li Kuanglan of the Li Clan of Jingtang.”
The Zhang warlord’s smile froze, his expression somewhat unnatural, either from the name or the young man’s reputation. He then said, “Seventh Master Song, your forces are now in a safe area. You can rest at Base Wusanyi. Also, the vanguard command of General Boqian is nearby, and he wishes to see you.”
Song Zining slowly removed his mask, smiled, and said, “Of course.”
As he left, Song Zining took a last look at the desolate wilderness, where the dark army had vanished, and the blue-clad young man was nowhere to be seen.
The news of Zhang Boqian summoning Song Zining spread quickly, a strong signal. Zhang Boqian’s character was not one to feign, and his willingness to meet Song Zining meant recognition, effectively absolving him from the longstanding feud between the Zhang and Song clans.
Many thought Song Zining was lucky, but he might have felt differently. In a corner, he murmured, “Qian Ye, you’ve caused me a huge trouble. Let’s call it even with the trouble I brought to you.”
Compared to the battles raging over thousands of kilometers, the edge of the “Beast’s Slumber” seemed rather quiet. Both the Evernight Council and the Empire had sent many strongholds, so there were few others in the vicinity except for some surveillance personnel.
On a hidden cliff, a slender figure appeared, her shoulder-length hair fluttering in the wind. It was Bai Kongzhao, long missing. Her white dress was tattered, and her skin was covered in bruises and wounds. Her abdomen was wrapped in thick, dirty bandages, blood seeping through.
She didn’t seem to have fared well, but her eyes remained sharp and clear, unaffected by her circumstances.
She held a short, finely crafted dagger, clearly of a high-quality lineage, with a style reminiscent of the Demonkin. It was unclear how she had obtained it, but the process was likely unpleasant.
Bai Kongzhao looked at the misty canyon and jumped in without hesitation. As her small figure disappeared into the fog, Bai Aotuo appeared in the distance.
Bai Aotuo frowned, sensing a familiar aura from the cliff. But it vanished, leaving her no trace.
Trying to sense more, she found nothing. Perceiving such things was not her forte, and the interference from the rainbow currents below was significant.
However, such obstacles were trivial to Bai Aotuo. She ceased searching, hands in her sleeves, and floated forward, reaching the cliff’s edge in moments, leaping down without pause.
At the Evernight White Clan base, Bai Longjia was busy organizing the teams retreating from the bloody battlefield, counting casualties, processing compensations, and tallying military achievements, utterly swamped. Bai Aotuo would neither do nor enjoy such tasks.
But after years of commanding the Broken Wing Angels, Bai Longjia knew the importance of these seemingly trivial matters. They were crucial for maintaining troop morale. With Bai Aotuo unwilling and others lacking the ability, Bai Longjia shouldered the responsibility.
Now, with the battle winding down and paperwork piling up, Bai Longjia worked tirelessly. A letter arrived from Bai Aotuo, containing only one line: “Heading to the Beast’s Slumber, do not worry.”
After reading the letter, Bai Longjia was silent, then slammed it on the table, his face turning ashen. For Bai Aotuo to anger him, a rarity, given his respect for his elder sister.
While Bai Aotuo’s actions were tolerated due to her youthful talent, her recent rapid advancement in strength and martial arts had made her a central figure in the White Clan. Considering her age and future prospects, it was certain she would become the Clan’s top fighter.
But entering the Beast’s Slumber was risky. If anything happened to Bai Aotuo, the impact on the White Clan would be immeasurable. Yet, she acted as she pleased, beyond Bai Longjia’s control.
After the battle, the conflict with the Zhao Clan had escalated, and how to handle it was critical. The White Clan had several major plans, with Bai Aotuo key to many. Her sudden departure to the Beast’s Slumber disrupted everything.
When his anger subsided, Bai Longjia carefully sealed the letter, called a servant, and instructed, “Send this to the Elders’ Council, as fast as possible!”
The servant, aware of the urgency, departed swiftly. Soon, a high-speed airship rose, heading for the upper continent.
Bai Longjia set aside the administrative tasks, pulled out confidential documents, and began annotating them. Bai Aotuo’s return date uncertain, the plans needed revision.
Night turned to day, and another night, as Bai Longjia worked non-stop, drinking only a little water. By morning, the documents were filled with detailed notes, all plans completed.
Though exhausted, Bai Longjia felt satisfied. These documents represented his recent mastery of military and political strategy, bound to make an impression on the Elders’ Council.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage