Chapter 1064: The Situation Is Settled

With just one stroke, he turned Fushanlie into a skewered roast. He still gripped the hilt and twisted it outward, widening the wound, and Fushanlie heard that familiar voice beside his ear:

"I said I would definitely sacrifice you to my blade!"

This person was, of course, He Lingchuan! What he used was not something he could have learned in Panlongcheng, but a battle technique pressed into service by the Wanji uncle and nephew: Like Shadow, Following Form.

Back then, Wanji Song had ambushed He Lingchuan, crossing from the roadside to his rear in a single step, ignoring the three-zhang distance between them.

Had the terrain not been open, and had He Lingchuan not had a countermove, he would have taken a Black Tiger Seizes the Heart strike.

Such a useful battle technique—of course he would later ask Wanji Feng to teach it to him.

The formation of Wengcheng forbids evasion techniques, but it cannot forbid such a battle technique.

After he pierced the Upper Dantian, his thoughts became unobstructed and his true force flowed freely; his overall strength was now one notch higher than during the River Battle, his killing intent concealed so well that by the time Fushanlie noticed, it was already too late—half a beat behind.

That half-beat was the distance between life and death.

He Lingchuan's blade slanted upward and did not retract, but instead sliced sideways into Fushanlie's left shoulder; the Lifeblade severed his collarbone, breaking free from the binding of flesh and blood!

This was equivalent to laterally slicing Fushanlie's body in half. The piercing pain made Fushanlie unable to help but let out a loud roar.

Amid the flying spray of blood, the Lifeblade brimmed with killing intent as it went for his neck! But Fushanlie, enduring the excruciating pain, twisted half his body and somehow grabbed a pestle, blocking the blade with a clang.

The icy blade aura carved a blood line on his neck, but ultimately did not behead him.

At this moment, Fushanlie's confidants also noticed He Lingchuan's appearance and shouted as they swung their blades at him.

He stood in the enemy encirclement, where one man with one blade could mince him into meat paste.

He Lingchuan did not dare be careless; he seized the arrow-deflecting shield just used and swung it fiercely around him.

The nearest enemies were all swept down by him in a swath.

The remaining four or five slashing strikes were all resolved on the spot by him.

As the enemy prepared to attack again, He Lingchuan grabbed a large rectangular shield and slammed it down in front of himself with a bang.

Immediately after, the shouts of killing shook the heavens, as Meng Shan led more than a dozen elite soldiers of the Great Wind Army rushing forward to relieve him.

When the Yuheng Army surged past He Lingchuan like a flood, the danger naturally dissolved.

In the Yuheng Army, someone immediately shouted: "Fushanlie is dead, Fushanlie is dead!"

One man roared, a hundred men roared, the sound shaking the nine heavens.

At this moment, the banner of the Xiji puppet army had already fallen; the hundreds of soldiers charging forward were already dazed in the darkness, and upon hearing those around them shout that Fushanlie was dead, they instantly lost the will to fight.

But outside the gates of Wengcheng and Nancheng, the Jinjun army had encircled and blocked them—those who wanted to enter could not, those who wanted to leave could not, utter chaos.

"He Lingchuan is here—Yuheng Army, hear my order: all units, attack!" He Lingchuan seized the spear on the ground, pointed its tip forward, and his tongue burst forth like spring thunder:

"Those who block me shall be killed without pardon!"

He took two steps and reached the front, using the long spear as a javelin, hurling it and piercing through several people in succession.

Wengcheng was crowded—ideal for such a display.

Over the past six months, he had no idea how many times he had drilled the Yuheng Army; the officers and men, upon hearing his voice, instantly felt invigorated, their hesitation and doubt vanishing as if flown away, only gripping their weapons tightly and charging forward behind their leader.

Led by He Lingchuan, more than ten elite soldiers of the Great Wind Army thrust forward like blades, ripping apart the enemy formation.

Two hundred Yuheng Army soldiers surged in to fill the gaps, engaging the enemy in close-quarters combat.

Wengcheng was naturally narrow; the Xiji puppet army saw enemies brandishing blades on all sides—front, back, left, right—and heard the shaking shouts of killing, their scalps going numb.

Yet Fushanlie was ultimately dragged out of Yuheng City by his confidants.

He could barely stand; his confidant hurriedly reached out and supported him.

Fushanlie pressed his hand to his chest and gasped: "Charge in—He Lingchuan's forces are few!"

Had it been an ordinary man whose heart was stabbed, he would have thrashed twice and died on the spot. But a ba is a ba—by nature an undead living corpse; though this wound was severe, it was not immediately fatal.

The situation was chaotic, and he too had suffered heavy wounds, but his mind remained clear:

He Lingchuan had indeed returned in time, but the Yuheng Army at Nancheng Gate numbered only three hundred. The Xiji puppet army plus the Jinjun forces, however, totaled three thousand!

As long as they could withstand He Lingchuan's this wave of attack, as long as they could break through this bottleneck in Wengcheng, waiting for the main army to flood into the streets and alleys, Yuheng City would still be his bag of holding!

Ah, it hurts so much.

But the terrain of Wengcheng was just like a bottle neck—one man guarding the pass, ten thousand cannot open it. And He Lingchuan was that "stopper," firmly blocking the bottle mouth; the many strong warriors in the army who charged forward were all stabbed back by him.

The numerical advantage of the Xiji army and the Jinjun forces could not be brought to bear.

The Yuheng City army even climbed onto the gate tower, firing cold arrows from above.

The situation stalled for over a minute; the Xiji army could not advance an inch, instead being forced back step by step.

After Fushanlie was severely wounded, the army had no commander who could match He Lingchuan.

After another few dozen breaths, suddenly shouts of killing shook the heavens from the western hillside—a army charged toward the city gate—

The eight hundred infantry brought back by Cai Qiyong had finally arrived.

Upon hearing the sound, He Lingchuan's spirit was refreshed; he ordered the troops inside the city to press forward—

Before reinforcements arrived, the city's forces had mainly defended; once the eight hundred infantry arrived, the city's forces immediately shifted from defense to offense.

Because Fushanlie was severely wounded, the morale of both sides rose and fell inversely.

Although he exerted himself to the utmost in command, he was ultimately lacking a few tiger generals.

One inside, one outside cooperating, the Yuheng Army gradually "squeezed" the enemy out of Wengcheng, driving them down the trestle bridge.

Seeing the winning momentum gone, Fushanlie let out a long sigh and could only order a retreat.

The Yuheng Army inside and outside the city gathered as one, pursuing the victory relentlessly, chasing all the way to the Jinjun border before He Lingchuan recalled his troops and returned.

This battle turned peril into safety—the Xiji puppet army and the Jinjun forces suffered a defeat like a collapsing mountain, panicked and fleeing, only to be pursued and slaughtered by the Yuheng Army taking advantage of the situation.

By dawn, the Yuheng Army had killed or wounded over 1,300 enemy troops and captured more than 400.

The enemy had mustered a total of over 2,800, and in this battle they lost more than half.

He Lingchuan did not wait for his subordinates to tally the battle results, but instead mounted his horse and galloped back into the city.

The Chilu worm demon remained trapped in the bell; no one dared to move that great bell, but instead they reinforced it with additional formations on its surface to prevent the worm demon from escaping.

The difficult problem of dealing with the insect yaoguai will be handed over to Panlongcheng.

This yaoguai is powerful and strange; in Beijia it should also be a registered major yaoguai, and the Apothecary Guild of Panlongcheng will be very interested.

Military engineers have already begun repairing the city gate mechanisms and the trestle bridges, and the wounded including Liutiao have been carried into the nearest inn for emergency treatment.

When He Lingchuan arrived, Liutiao occupied a private room alone, white cloth wrapped around her neck and shoulders, and her broken arm had also been set.

She looked utterly exhausted; the time she had just spent fighting Fu Shanlie and the insect yaoguai was short, yet it was the greatest peril she had experienced in her life, truly requiring her full concentration, not allowing the slightest mistake.

Seeing He Lingchuan approach, Liutiao smiled at him: "Did you win?"

"Of course."

A Luo said from the side: "The medicine was applied in time, and with the internal and external use of Di Liujiang, it is very beneficial for the injuries."

This night was too long; the Di Liujiang had not even finished yet. A Luo used the freshest Di Liujiang to treat illness and save people, achieving twice the result with half the effort, the effect remarkably good.

Thank you to Great Thief Han Buxia for the reward

(End of chapter)