Amidst the Northern Wilderness army, the Spring Nabapo Tuoba Qiyun and the imperial relative Yelü Dongchuang exchanged glances. The latter finally spoke, “Is this even possible? Is Northern Liang just making a desperate last stand?”
Tuoba Qiyun turned his gaze southward, answering obliquely, “With Duan Mao Dengmao by the Crown Prince’s side, your second uncle Zhong Liang, and the Orange Prefecture’s Jiedushi Murong Baoding, that makes only three grandmasters of martial arts. Even if the Spiderweb’s Li Mibi has a hidden ace, it still seems a bit insufficient.”
Yelü Dongchuang smirked. “Such an earth-shattering battle of grandmasters—would your father really miss it?”
A trace of regret flickered in Tuoba Qiyun’s eyes as he shook his head and sighed. “My father never mentioned coming here personally. Perhaps he truly will miss it.”
Yelü Dongchuang curled his lip and lazily flicked his horsewhip. “Then it really would be the greatest regret of his life.”
At that moment, a towering figure materialized in the empty space between the two riders. His arms hung past his knees, and faint golden light surged across his body like golden serpents coiling through mist.
The newcomer spoke expressionlessly, “Both of you, retreat ten li immediately.”
Without hesitation, Tuoba Qiyun, the esteemed Spring Nabapo of the Northern Wilderness, wheeled his horse northward and galloped away.
Even the unruly Yelü Dongchuang, upon hearing the man’s unyielding command, immediately followed Tuoba Qiyun in retreat.
When this figure appeared among the Northern Wilderness forces, Dengmao guarding the Crown Prince, the demonic Zhong Liang who stood shoulder-to-shoulder with General Zhong Shentong, and the frontline Jiedushi Murong Baoding—three of the Northern Wilderness’s mightiest warriors—all shuddered in unison.
The man stood motionless, his presence towering like the ancestral Kunlun Mountains, though he stood on flat ground.
From atop the Jubei City walls, a thunderous drumbeat resounded.
A young prince in embroidered robes, sleeves billowing, silently mouthed a single word: “Kill!”
Seventeen other Central Plains grandmasters echoed the sentiment in perfect unison.
As the Northern Wilderness’s central infantry formation advanced steadily, two elite cavalry wings of five thousand each surged forward like rolling thunder.
These expert mounted archers coordinated with the central infantry’s volleys, raining arrows upon Jubei City’s walls to suppress its defenses and allow the siege infantry to close in swiftly.
The eighteen grandmasters formed a tidal line. Lou Huang and Yu Xinlang on the far left, Wei Miao and Chai Qingshan on the far right—four Central Plains martial grandmasters split into two paths, fearlessly intercepting the charging cavalry.
Due to these eighteen warriors emerging from the city, the Northern Wilderness’s massive ballista bolts, originally meant to follow the infantry’s arrows and catapults, now streaked ahead like sword strikes from terrestrial immortals, aimed at the grandmasters blocking their path.
Wu Liuding, the current Sword Crown of the Wu Family, spotted two black dots hurtling toward him and laughed heartily. “In the art of sword control, who dares rival the Wu Family’s Sword Mausoleum?!”
As he spoke, the young Sword Crown sidestepped, extending both arms with hooked fingers. Two ballista bolts, each as thick as spears, were caught mid-air. The sheer momentum dragged him back a dozen paces, his feet carving furrows in the earth. Sparks flew as the bolts ground against his qi-infused grip. Finally, he clenched them fully, spun, and hurled them back with a roar—”Return to you!”
The bolts pierced through six or seven shield-bearing infantrymen, skewering them like candied haws.
Still unsatisfied, Wu Liuding stood firm, fingers together, and yanked backward. “Sword Mausoleum’s Seventh Stance—Wild Geese Returning!”
The deadly bolts reversed course, flying back to him. His swordmaid, Cui Hua, drew the ancient sword Suwang and casually split one bolt in half.
She frowned lightly. “Announcing your moves mid-battle violates the Sword Mausoleum’s principles. It disrupts your qi flow.”
Wu Liuding grinned. “Can’t help it—silent fights lack flair!”
Meanwhile, Xuanyuan Qingfeng stood poised atop an arrow shaft, watching as a crimson-robed figure flitted like a butterfly before the young prince, shattering incoming bolts effortlessly.
Elsewhere, the blind zitherist Xue Songguan halted, her guqin hovering before her. As her fingers danced across the strings, arrows inexplicably exploded mid-air around her.
When the Northern Wilderness’s black rain of arrows loomed overhead, Xue Songguan’s raspy voice echoed in everyone’s ears: “Leave the skies to me.”
The elderly scholar Cheng Baisuang smiled. “Allow me to assist.”
As Xue Songguan plucked her strings with both hands, Cheng Baisuang intoned, “The highest music has no sound.”
Tens of thousands of arrows froze mid-air above Jubei City, then shattered and fell like dead rain.
Despite the grandmasters’ blockade, the Northern Wilderness infantry pressed forward, shields raised, resolved to die.
Within a hundred paces, the heavily armored soldiers could clearly see the legendary figures before them: the young Liang Prince in his royal robes, the crimson-robed figure beside him, the white-clad Luo Yang—the infamous demonic sovereign of the grasslands—and the middle-aged swordsman who had yet to act.
Wu Liuding lounged with a bolt slung over his shoulder, while Cui Hua stood ready with Suwang.
On the other flank, Mao Shulang slowly drew his blade, “Great Clumsiness,” while Ji Liu’an flicked his sword, its chime pure as a phoenix’s cry.
Behind the prince, Xuanyuan Qingfeng, the sword-devouring Sui Xiegu, and the Wudang’s Yu Xingrui stood guard.
The two flanking cavalry wings met unimaginable resistance—absurd yet brutal.
Yu Xinlang and Lou Huang.
Chai Qingshan and Wei Miao.
Each pair held back five thousand elite riders.
Chai Qingshan’s sword strikes cleaved men and horses alike, while Wei Miao’s fists shattered skulls and flipped steeds. Their seamless rotation ensured the cavalry never gained an inch.
Meanwhile, Yu Xinlang and Lou Huang—disciples of the self-proclaimed “Second Under Heaven” Wang Xianzhi—charged even more aggressively into the enemy ranks.
Lou Huang’s erratic swordplay left no trace, each stroke butchering horse and rider alike.
Yu Xinlang, though lesser-known, wielded his sword with effortless grace, his potential rivaling even the legendary Li Chungang and Deng Tai’a.
Together, they carved deeper into the Northern Wilderness forces, their advance unstoppable.
Thus, the battle raged—grandmasters against armies, wills against steel, in a clash that would echo through history.
But every seemingly casual “pointing” would cause a rider to fall from his horse and die, with no trace of sword wounds on the body.
However, compared to the wide-open and unrestrained Lou Huang, the leisurely Yu Xinlang was clearly slower in breaking through enemy lines.
Ahead, Lou Huang turned around, casually flicking his sword to lift the head of a Northern Wilderness rider, and grinned at Yu Xinlang behind him, “Sixteen more than you. How about that?”
Yu Xinlang, calm and composed, smiled faintly, “Slow and steady wins the race.”
Lou Huang snorted coldly and turned back to continue slaughtering.
After his junior brother Lou Huang turned his back, Yu Xinlang still had the leisure to rise on tiptoe and glance toward the battlefield where Wei Miao and Chai Qingshan were fighting. Seeing the two martial seniors coordinating seamlessly, he nodded slightly to himself. Their reckless advance wasn’t mere recklessness—those who hailed from the Martial Emperor’s City had been trained since childhood to endure the relentless tides under their master’s guidance. This gave them an innate advantage in endurance. Against opponents of similar strength and cultivation, while others might need to catch their breath three times, Yu Xinlang, Lou Huang, Lin Ya, and Gong Banque only needed two.
Yu Xinlang lowered his gaze to the sword *Fuji* in his hand, a masterpiece from the Tide-Watching Pavilion’s armory. A sudden melancholy washed over him—was such a peerless blade, destined to break on the battlefield, born at the wrong time?
Abruptly, Yu Xinlang burst into laughter, sheathing his sword and drawing his Liang saber instead. His figure shot into the air, darting freely among the charging Northern Wilderness cavalry, flicking up heads with wide, unseeing eyes. The usually reserved Yu Xinlang laughed with unprecedented boldness, “Lou Huang! How about switching to sabers? On the battlefield, taking heads with a Liang saber is just as exhilarating as shattering the tides in our youth!”
Lou Huang sneered ahead, “Not until my *Shu Dao* sword breaks!”
Yu Xinlang teased, “Such a brute, no wonder no woman warms your bed!”
Lou Huang ignored his senior brother’s jest, only striking with even fiercer determination.
At the center of the battlefield, the Serpent-Robed Prince, the Peach Blossom Sword God, and the white-robed Luo Yang inexplicably halted, gazing northward. They weren’t merely waiting for the Northern Wilderness infantry to close in—it seemed they were all searching for their true adversaries.
The young prince finally fixed his gaze on the distant, ostentatious banner of the Northern Wilderness and murmured, “Shall I go first, then?”
Luo Yang in white remained silent.
The Peach Blossom Sword God, Deng Tai’a, pushed his sword slightly out of its sheath with his thumb and said flatly, “I’ll find Tuoba Pusa for you first.”
Just as the prince’s serpent robe was about to vanish, Luo Yang finally spoke slowly, “Once Tuoba Pusa makes his move, don’t worry about your back. Just charge forward.”
Xu Fengnian nodded, and his figure disappeared into thin air.
The next moment, the young prince appeared high above the Northern Wilderness infantry formation, stepping onto a massive boulder just launched by a trebuchet.
The boulder, weighing hundreds of pounds, froze mid-air for an instant before hurtling back down at even greater speed, smashing the trebuchet to pieces. The rolling boulder then crushed dozens of handlers into bloody pulp.
Luo Yang in white closed her eyes and inhaled lightly. The scent of blood on this battlefield was no different from eight hundred years ago, when the Great Qin fought for supremacy. She whispered, “Luo Yang of Great Qin is here.”
Deng Tai’a finally located his target behind layers upon layers of armored soldiers. He tilted his body slightly and flicked his thumb against the hilt of his sword.
The *Tai’a* sword, which had never left the Wu Family Sword Vault with its master, finally unsheathed today, revealing its peerless brilliance.
This flying sword moved too fast, its sword energy too vast, its intent too overwhelming—so much so that between the scabbard at Deng Tai’a’s waist and the flying sword two miles away, a slender yet dazzling white arc stretched across the sky!
It was as if the world now held a sword two miles long!
Not to be outdone, the young Sword Crown Wu Liuding grinned and said, “Cuihua, as my sword attendant, just stand behind me and watch how I break their formation!”
Just as Wu Liuding flicked his wrist, preparing to use a ballista bolt as a greatsword to cleave through the enemy, his peripheral vision caught a flash of purple robes crashing into the Northern Wilderness infantry formation with unstoppable force. Around that purple streak, shattered shields and severed limbs flew like crimson blossoms in full bloom. Wu Liuding couldn’t help but mutter, “That madwoman!”
※※※
Beneath that towering banner, the Northern Wilderness Crown Prince issued orders for the Chieftains Murong Baoding and Zhong Liang to each lead two thousand private cavalry to reinforce the two blocked cavalry units. Their mission: retrieve the heads of the four audacious Central Plains grandmasters who dared stand in their way—each head would be counted as a third-rank military merit, equivalent to a high-ranking Liang border general’s!
Then, before the banner, a vast open space spanning a mile in radius was deliberately cleared, a blatant challenge to any Central Plains grandmaster bold enough to charge forward.
Despite the Crown Prince’s boldness, neither the prudent Xizhou Chieftain Helian Wuwu nor the shrewd Baopingzhou Chieftain Wang Yong voiced any objections. Even Duan Mao Dengmao, solely responsible for the Crown Prince’s safety, remained unmoved.
All waited with eerie calm for the young prince’s appearance.
The composed Northern Wilderness Regent Crown Prince turned to his consort, who had once won the title of *Guhan* in the Chess-Sword-Poetry Society, and asked with a smile, “Do you think that Xu fellow will dare come?”
Her expression was cold. “Of course.”
The Crown Prince scoffed. “Good. Let the Northern Liang King learn one truth—there are countless miraculous medicines in this world, but none for regret.”
She said nothing more, sighing softly.
Before marrying into royalty, she had studied Central Plains poetry and history. It seemed heroes always died at the hands of villains.
Yet as she glanced at the man beside her, now wielding immense power, she sneered inwardly. *Xu Xiao, the Human Butcher, was a villain of his era. For his eldest son Xu Fengnian to die at the hands of such a fool—how pitiful.*
Helian Wuwu, the Northern Wilderness Chieftain, wore a shadowed, complicated gaze. The old man sighed, recalling the secret plan he had only learned of last night. *To stand against the world—this is what it means.*
The elder reined in his thoughts and gazed at the open space ahead, torn between hope and dread. He wished for the young man to come and fight gloriously, yet dreaded his humiliating demise.
But the young prince, who had single-handedly shattered two thousand armored soldiers, had indeed come.
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