The battle was chaotic and without any order.
Lu Song, King of Qilin, bore the mark of the Beiliang Army, light or heavy, on his body, as was the case today. Leading the charge, he broke through the first tide initiated by Han Diaosi. Then he saw a white, a red, and a black entangled together. Two valiant generals couldn’t help but look at each other, and from each other’s eyes, they saw an awkwardness, obviously somewhat at a loss. They had originally thought they had the advantage of heaven, earth, and humanity, relying on eight hundred cavalry and two hundred scattered martial artists, needing only to charge forward. Regardless of who was on the other side, they could gain an advantage. However, the young master they would later need to serve and pledge loyalty to acted like an inexperienced fool, determined to show off, insisting on fighting alone against Han Diaosi after the defeat of the Six-Armed Demon King. This made Confucian general Lu Song feel somewhat resentful, thinking to himself that if you were to die outside Shenwu City, all our efforts of nearly twenty years of enduring humiliation would be in vain. Lu Song held a pear-blossom spear, halted his horse and sat high, his eyes dark with gloom.
Wang Lin, being younger, was full of passion and thought that this even younger Beiliang heir was acting recklessly, but his nature somewhat suited his taste. At the very least, he didn’t hide like a coward, sending hundreds of brothers to die pointlessly behind him. Wang Lin wielded a pair of Thunder Hammers, a family martial art passed down through generations. His ancestors were heroes from the green forest, and during the Battle of Jing River, he had crushed a peerless mighty general from the Western Chu with a hammer. Although there was suspicion that he had taken advantage of his opponent who had fought hard and was short on breath and strength, he had indeed hammered through the enemy general’s chest. Wang Lin was naturally strong, and each Thunder Hammer weighed sixty catties. For ordinary soldiers, it was hard to fight continuously, let alone even charge on horseback, which would be an enormous burden. Wang Lin swung one hammer, his eyes fixed on the battlefield, feeling dazed and overwhelmed.
Ren Shanyu reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her temple, her eyes dazed. She had often heard before that the young master of Beiliang was extraordinarily handsome, a top-notch charming figure. She and her sisters, who lived by the blade, had privately doubted the later rumors that he had personally gone to Beiman, even cutting off the head of Xu Huainan, the Northern Court King, and even killing the fifth Mo of the Tianshan Mountain. Ren Shanyu thought that even if he had indeed practiced the blade seriously for a few years, his cultivation would still be limited. After all, cultivation level was related to the number of secret manuals, but not necessarily directly proportional. Greed leads to indigestion. As an experienced one, Ren Shanyu knew better than most that quality was more important than quantity. However, seeing it with her own eyes today, facing the undisputed tenth strongest person in the world, although at a disadvantage, he had indeed forced the “Cat Man” to attack several times. She admitted that ten Ren Shanyus would not have such ability.
Ren Shanyu had even less room to retreat compared to these martial artists like Lu Song and Wang Lin. Once entering this cage of Beiliang, which held many ferocious beasts, no one had ever left without shedding several layers of skin. Ren Shanyu remembered one once-renowned martial arts expert who had failed in his tasks and was forced by Chu Lushan, who controlled half of Beiliang’s intelligence, to gouge out one eye and cut off one hand, surviving in agony for over a decade as a cook.
Several riders galloped from ten miles outside Shenwu City.
Leading was Bai Xiong, Yuan Zuozong.
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The battle outside the city was in full swing. Upon hearing the news, Shenwu City had already closed its gates and imposed martial law. A scholar in green robes walked leisurely along the river, holding a dry willow branch. To passersby, he was surely far inferior to Deng Ta’a, who became the contemporary sword god merely by holding a peach blossom branch. However, those who had truly experienced the skills of the Beiman “Willow Segment” had no opportunity to take things lightly, except for the black-robed youth who accompanied the black tiger into Beiman. The Beiman’s top assassin, who had met his match for the first time in Xu Longxiang, naturally could not forget him. He had personally planted a willow branch, but it had not grown into shade, which made him feel regretful. Fortunately, this time he infiltrated the Liyang Dynasty, not to kill Xu Longxiang, who was born with the King Kong body, but to kill his older brother, which was also a pleasant task. Unfortunately, he could not strike at Xiamawei, thereby troubling both Beiliang and Liyang simultaneously. Settling for second best, he could only launch a determined ambush outside Shenwu City. This “Willow Segment” felt a bit of regret at the bottom of his heart.
As he seemed to wander slowly, a few miles still from the city gate, the river within the city was nearly at its end. Suddenly, as if struck by a giant stone, the city wall trembled, sending out ripples of energy. With “Willow Segment’s” cultivation, he could naturally perceive this clearly, but he was not in a hurry. His dirty work always involved plucking chestnuts from the fire, valuing the timing the most. Now that the pot was just on the stove, one couldn’t be impatient to eat hot tofu. He wasn’t in a rush. With Han Diaosi’s supernatural strength, as long as that white-haired youngster didn’t foolishly rush to his death, he estimated he could play around for at least half an hour. “Willow Segment” held a rare respect for that notorious “Cat Man.” Wasn’t killing a “Sky Elephant” with a “Finger Divination” exactly the realm that he, a half-comrade, had longed for in his dreams?
He suddenly stopped in his tracks.
In his line of sight, a black-clad youth blocked his way.
The youth grinned, pointing at his own chest.
“Willow Segment” smiled as well.
Previously, only he had been the one lurking behind, assassinating others. He never thought this time it would be reversed. “Willow Segment” glanced at the snow-covered river with some self-mockery. How could one walk by the river all the time without getting their shoes wet? He discarded the dry branch, and from his sleeve slid a thin, handleless short sword.
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When the one-armed old man, who loved swords, entered the city, the silent assassin Yin stood at the gate of the Wudi City in the East Sea. He carried a big box on his back, which originally contained more than twenty swords. Now, it was completely empty. These swords were all famous ones ranked in the Youyan Manor, each capable of cutting iron like mud. However, during these days of secretly following the old man, the swords in the box were just like snacks at roadside stalls, something any child could buy for a few coins. Yin followed carefully and reluctantly, but thinking of the Prince’s instructions, he dared not show even a hint of dissatisfaction. To get some definite words from the old man’s mouth, he could only serve him meticulously. Actually, the two had already approached Wudi City half a month ago. According to the Prince’s words, they should enter the city only when they saw the blue and white swallows in the sky of the East Sea. The old man looked somewhat displeased, but eventually, he endured, giving what could be considered a huge favor. Although Yin was the top silent assassin in the dynasty, his appearance was clumsy, like a common street vendor, just a bit more sturdy in build. It was hard to imagine he was the person who had once participated in the assassination of the Imperial Teacher Yuan Benxi. Now, carrying a big box, he stood outside the city, relieved, blending completely with the comings and goings of famous martial artists and heroes without drawing any attention.
Yin turned back and moved away from Wudi City. At this point, he certainly couldn’t catch up with the battle.
He could only hope that the new master of Beiliang would remain unharmed.
After enduring twenty years of hardships, there was absolutely no reason for him to die in a foreign land.
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Great snow fell upon the world, while above the heavens shimmered with unimaginable brilliance in the clouds.
A sword hovered above the nine heavens.
Ancient books and poetry often described immortals as “riding the wind” and “soaring like celestial beings.” Scholars and officials would compose verses while climbing high, seemingly leisurely and carefree. In reality, the mountain paths were rugged, and often a round trip to tour a famous mountain would take half a month or even a whole month. History was not without examples of poets and scholars who had fallen from cliffs. Thus, after enduring such risks, when they finally reached the summit and gazed upon the magnificent scenery, especially the surging sea of clouds, it might be what Confucians referred to as the vastness of the universe between heaven and earth. At the point where this sword hovered, it was high above the brilliant sea of clouds, and being amidst it felt like standing on the shore of a great ocean. It was now nearing dusk, with the sun setting in the west, and the sea of clouds glowing in a kaleidoscope of colors, incredibly magnificent. Several clouds resembled vertical waterfalls, awe-inspiring to behold.
If the cultivators on the lake of Youyan Manor, who danced like white butterflies skimming the water, only somewhat resembled immortals in form, then the woman standing on the sword was a true celestial being in both form and spirit.
After she learned to ride the sword, whenever she felt gloomy, she would alone break through the clouds, standing in this fairyland lost in thought. She didn’t even try to contemplate sword techniques by observing the sea; she simply stood there, dazed.
Dozens of zhang above the sea of clouds, there was another thin layer of golden clouds, like a building atop another, hence the Daoist texts spoke of the “Nine Heavens and Eighteen Floors.” After regaining her senses, she rode her sword and soared upwards, reaching out her hand to touch that floor. She stretched out one hand and gently twisted, creating a vortex of air, just like the dimple on a woman’s face, magnified countless times.
The sage Cao Changqing “ascended the floor” into the air. Every time he climbed a step, the previous step would vanish into thin air.
Cao Guanzi said softly, “If he dies within the old borders of Xichu, it would also make a fine medicinal catalyst. Liyang is clearly setting up a formation, forcing us to restore our kingdom.”
Jiang Ni, the sword fairy after the Beiliang queen, said in a calm tone, “So we are all pawns crossing the river.”
Cao Changqing smiled and said no more.
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