Chapter 145: The Comet that Shatters the Heavens

Luther was taken aback, a sense of inexplicable dejection weighing on him. It wasn’t the first time that Song Zining had singled him out from the mass of troops. This at least proved that the Seventh Young Master of the Song Clan, who now stood atop the city walls, was more adept in military strategy than he.

Moreover, Luther was well aware of what Song Zining intended to do.

On the battlements, Song Zining appeared to be sitting casually, but his right hand instinctively clenched the spear beside him. Although he was decisive in battle, at this moment, he hesitated, for there was no guarantee of success, and if he failed, the consequences would be unimaginable.

At this juncture, a pair of delicate hands gently covered Song Zining’s, and a young girl standing beside him softly said, “Young Master, taking the enemy general’s head in the midst of ten thousand soldiers is something only a brute would do. Why take such a risk? In a few years, these people won’t be your enemies anymore.”

Song Zining replied slowly, “You have a point. But… I can’t just let it go so easily!”

The girl smiled, “Can one truly get everything they want in this world? After this battle, you will surely become famous throughout the land, and those vile little men will regret their actions bitterly. Isn’t that enough?”

Song Zining let out a long sigh, the murderous intent in his eyes gradually fading, and his grip on the spear loosened.

“Those little men… heh.” Song Zining chuckled lightly, then fell silent. His gaze swept over the vast iron curtain, cold and distant. It was the fourteenth day of the siege, yet there was still no sign of Qian Ye.

Seeing no movement on the city walls, Luther felt a mix of disappointment and relief. Over the past few days, he had come to understand that Song Zining was not one to act without certainty. Each move he made was like a thunderstorm, and he often showed the intention to assault the main force directly, clearly aiming for a showdown. From Song Zining’s tactics, it was clear that he was not reckless, meaning he must have been at least sixty percent certain he could defeat Luther, which made Luther very uncomfortable.

At this stage, the situation was like being on a tiger’s back—difficult to dismount. It was evident that the intelligence Luther had received before the battle was completely off; this Seventh Young Master of the Song Clan was a seasoned commander, not some unlearned dandy. However, the battle had already begun, and retreat was not an option. Even if Luther wanted to settle scores with those who provided the faulty intelligence, it would have to wait until after the battle. His cautious nature made him hesitant in making decisions.

Just as Luther was struggling with his thoughts, a chill suddenly penetrated his skull, piercing his heart, and in an instant, he felt as if he had fallen into an ice pit! A wave of cold killing intent had locked onto him!

Luther turned in horror, seeing a figure rushing straight toward him from the rear of his formation. The speed was almost supernatural, and the soldiers in its path didn’t even have time to react. Only a few officers sensed something was wrong, but they couldn’t catch up.

This person seemed intent on breaking through the main force alone!

Luther’s mind was in turmoil. He had no idea how this person had discovered him. Song Zining must have found his location through subtle clues in the troop movements, but Luther couldn’t believe there were two such skilled strategists in this small place.

On the other hand, although most of Luther’s forces were attacking the city, the main force was far from weak, protected by a hundred elite guards and a thousand cannon fodder, and Luther himself was a First-Class Viscount. Here, under the iron curtain, anyone above the rank of Earl couldn’t directly engage in combat. Who was this person, daring to charge the main force as if courting death?

Luther, an experienced commander, quickly regained his composure. He pointed at Qian Ye and shouted, “Surround him and kill him!”

At his command, the army moved swiftly. The cannon fodder charged head-on, while the elite units flanked the sides, cutting off any escape. Half of Luther’s personal guards also split into three teams, moving rapidly to deliver a fatal blow.

Luther’s order was executed with precision, showcasing the caliber of his command. However, one of his deputies was puzzled. Why such a large-scale response to a single attacker?

As Qian Ye reached the halfway point, bullets rained down on him. He crouched, raised his heavy shield, and charged forward, sparks flying as the shield deflected the hail of bullets, but his speed did not slow.

In a blink, Qian Ye plunged into Luther’s main force.

A series of dull thuds echoed as several cannon fodder soldiers were knocked aside. Qian Ye then hurled his battered shield, which whistled through the air, leaving a trail of blood and gore, and even the attempts of two Blood Knights to intercept it were futile.

A grim wound now marred the once-ordered ranks of the dark race’s army.

Qian Ye, with his sword Dongyue in hand, slashed horizontally, cleaving over a dozen cannon fodder soldiers. Then, with a vertical slash, he carved a path of corpses, ten meters wide, in front of him.

Striding forward, Qian Ye crashed into another group of cannon fodder. Dongyue transformed into a serpent, its slashes mighty and overwhelming, each strike leaving a wake of blood.

Qian Ye was like a sharp wedge, relentlessly driving into Luther’s ranks, undeterred by the number or strength of the enemy.

Soon, the cannon fodder would be broken, and Luther’s face turned pale. He placed his hand on his sword hilt but held back. Raising his right hand, he clenched his fist and pointed at Qian Ye, giving the order for a full frontal assault.

The regular troops, who had been following the cannon fodder, now rushed forward, attacking Qian Ye. Under the increased pressure, Qian Ye let out a long roar, and Dongyue’s power surged, each strike more formidable than the last, with the might of a tidal wave or a mountain collapsing.

Seeing his regular troops being butchered, Luther was shocked and pained. He resisted the urge to draw his sword, realizing that Qian Ye’s tactics, though effective, were also draining. It wouldn’t be long before he exhausted his origin power.

Observing Qian Ye’s skill and strength, Luther was also wary, unwilling to face him at his peak. He considered himself a genius tactician, not an unparalleled warrior, and planned to exhaust Qian Ye’s origin power before delivering the final blow.

On the battlements, Song Zining leaped to his feet, eyes filled with joy. But the joy soon turned to worry. Without a word, he grabbed his spear, let out a long cry, and jumped from the city wall, transforming into a silver streak, heading straight for Luther’s main force!

“Young Master!” The young girl, unable to stop him, stomped her foot in frustration, drew a pair of short swords, and followed him down the wall.

Song Hu, startled, quickly ordered, “Prepare the fortress cannons, bombard sectors three and seven! Prepare the reserve, move them down the wall! Cover the Young Master with all defensive weapons!”

Song Zining flew dozens of meters through the air before landing, surrounded by enemies. With a shake of his spear, a gust of wind arose, like the clash of golden spears and iron horses, sending dozens of fiery sparks and silver flashes in all directions. The surrounding enemies fell like wheat stalks, and a sea of blood spread out, leaving no one within several meters standing.

The Seventh Young Master of the Song Clan, bathed in a blaze of fire and silver, treated the mass of soldiers as if they were nothing, charging toward Luther’s main force.

Behind him, a small, agile figure leapt and pounced, each attack felling several opponents.

Such a commotion naturally caught Luther’s attention. Turning around, he inwardly cursed. This Seventh Young Master chose the worst possible time to launch a solo assault. But then again, if Song Zining couldn’t seize such an opportunity, how could he have held off Luther for so long with such a small force?

Though Song Zining’s arrival was impressive, Luther weighed his options and pointed at Qian Ye. His personal guards finally launched their attack, increasing the pressure on Qian Ye.

A deep, drum-like sound reverberated, causing Luther’s blood to surge. Just as his face twisted in shock, he heard a second, similar sound.

To his horror, it sounded like the heartbeat of a vampire. Such a display was rare, even among high-ranking vampire barons.

Who was this man?

A layer of crimson briefly enveloped Qian Ye, spreading an icy, deadly, and desolate aura.

It was the awe-inspiring presence of a superior, the cold detachment of a ruler over the masses. All the dark races, including Luther himself, were momentarily stunned. The vampires were the most affected, trembling and some even falling to the ground.

Qian Ye’s blood aura retracted, and Dongyue rose, instantly decapitating several of Luther’s personal guards, offering no resistance. When the dark warriors finally reacted, Qian Ye’s blood aura reappeared, freezing the movements of all enemies within ten meters.

“Bloodline suppression?” Luther blurted out, stunned.

This was more shocking than Qian Ye demonstrating the power of a baron or even a marquis, annihilating the entire field. Luther’s bloodline, even among the demon race, was one of the most ancient. If he was affected, Qian Ye’s bloodline must be one of the few esteemed surnames in the vampire race.

Suspicion rising, Luther demanded, “Who are you!”

Qian Ye only glanced at him, his eyes full of fighting spirit and killing intent, and continued to fight. In that instant, more of Luther’s personal guards fell to Dongyue.

Luther’s vertical pupil finally opened, and in a flash, he thought he was hallucinating. The one wielding the bloody, heavy sword was using dawn origin power? But what was that dense, dark-golden blood aura?

While Luther wavered, Qian Ye had already pierced through half of the main force, closing in on him. The elite warriors were reduced by half, and a third of the personal guards lay dead. Though cannon fodder was expendable, the loss of elites and personal guards was a real blow, deeply paining Luther.

Despite the pain, seeing Qian Ye’s blood and origin power nearly depleted, Luther gritted his teeth and ordered his last few personal guards to charge, determined to encircle and kill Qian Ye on the spot!

Regardless of whether it was a secret technique or a true superior bloodline, facing such an enigmatic opponent, even if Luther was stronger, he hesitated to engage directly. Once Qian Ye broke through these guards, he would be exhausted, and Luther could finish him off with ease.

Watching the swarm of personal guards close in, Qian Ye’s eyes flashed with killing intent, and dark-golden blood veins appeared in his pupils. Hundreds of blood threads shot out, piercing through all enemies within ten meters.

The surroundings emptied, and now, only Luther stood between them. Qian Ye’s weakening blood and origin power began to surge, recovering significantly.

Life force theft!

Only on the battlefield could this innate ability show its true, terrifying power.