Chapter 517

A man’s name, a tree’s shadow.

Since the Hongmen Battle in the eighth year of Daxia, when Xia Hong defeated Yang Zun and ascended to the throne of the Southern Slope’s strongest, his name spread thoroughly across all towns of the Southern Slope.

In the past four years, Xia Hong has left no record of any public combat; even those within Daxia do not know his true strength, let alone outsiders.

Yet even so, Xia Hong’s prestige as the Southern Slope’s strongest has suffered not at all—in fact, his refusal to fight lightly and his avoidance of public appearances have only deepened his mystery, fueling curiosity about his power and intensifying the northern towns’ dread of him.

The northern towns’ dread has proven entirely justified!

Last night’s battle at Baishu City, Xia Hong’s first public strike in four years, first slew the army commander Yang Jian with thunderous force, then nearly killed Yang Zun; had it not been for the desperate rescue by Town Chief Yang Fa and five other Xianyang-level warriors, Yang Zun would almost certainly not have escaped back to the town.

Though Yang Zun ultimately returned safely, Yang Fa and the five Xianyang-level warriors were captured by Daxia, and now no one knows if they live or die.

Mo Haiwen broke through to Xianyang level nearly four years ago; unluckily, he was present at the Hongmen Battle four years ago, so his impression of Xia Hong was exceptionally vivid.

So when he looked up and saw Xia Hong holding a long blade above, his pupils instantly filled with despair; Yu Dongxin, standing beside him, also turned pale, no better off than he was.

“Surrender! Yang Zun and all his Yang clan are nowhere to be seen—why die pointlessly for him…?”

“Shut up!”

Xia Hong’s expression stiffened slightly at the angry interruption; he looked down at Mo Haiwen below, a flicker of killing intent passing through his pupils.

“I, Mo, have long been under the lord’s grace—how could I betray my master and defect? Brothers, the time to repay our lord has come! Hold the line! Do not let Daxia break through the gate…”

“Even if we die today, we’ll bite off a piece of flesh from Daxia’s army! The lord’s wounds will heal soon—brothers, follow me, kill!”

Mo Haiwen and Yu Dongxin’s two roaring shouts, one after the other, ignited the bloodlust of every soldier on the northern wall.

“The lord’s grace is beyond repayment even in nine deaths—what fear do we have of Daxia?”

“Brothers, the gate hasn’t fallen—we still have hope! Hold back Daxia! Charge!”

“The lord’s wounds will heal soon—don’t fear! Kill!”

“Beishuo has endured over a hundred years—how can Daxia topple us? Brothers, charge with me! There are fewer than five hundred Daxia soldiers on the wall—unite and drive them back! Charge!”

………………

The eastern wall of Beishuo City, though only fifteen meters wide, was long enough; clearly confident in the gate’s defense, Mo Haiwen and Yu Dongxin had stationed over five to six thousand men along it.

Thousands did not recoil at Xia Hong’s appearance—instead, spurred on by Mo and Yu, they erupted in ferocity, roaring as they charged toward the few hundred Daxia soldiers on the eastern perimeter.

Thousands could not all rush at once, but under the surge of fury, the sea of bodies instantly crushed the few hundred Daxia troops into a corner, temporarily pinning them down.

“Stubborn fools!”

Seeing Beishuo’s movement, Xia Hong’s temper flared; seeing Daxia soldiers on the ladders unable to climb due to lack of space on the wall, he finally stopped holding back, drew his Long Que Blade, and leapt straight down from midair, landing directly between Mo Haiwen and Yu Dongxin.

Zhum…

Before Xia Hong even touched the wall, the surrounding air temperature spiked—this was the abnormal phenomenon caused by full activation of bone energy.

“Watch out!”

Seeing the blade descending above, Mo Haiwen had no thought of resisting; he shouted a warning to Yu Dongxin, and the two instantly scattered left and right.

Yet they were not only weaker in power—they were slower too.

Jing…

The Long Que Blade was already absurdly long; as Xia Hong fell, gripping it horizontally, the blade’s immense force dragged the air into a hundred-meter-long silver blade that slashed downward.

Mo and Yu, directly in its path, realized they could not dodge as the blade neared—they raised their weapons to block.

Alas, both their weapons and their strength were far, far inferior to Xia Hong’s.

Ka…

Their weapons shattered on impact; though their bodies barely avoided the blade’s edge, they could not escape the colossal blade of air.

Hong…

The blade split outward from the center; the two had no chance to counter, blasted backward dozens of meters, their armor shattered, each slamming into dozens of defending soldiers to their left and right.

Not just thrown back—Xia Hong’s strike was so powerful that the impact flung them with terrifying force; at least a dozen soldiers in the front ranks on either side were instantly pulverized into blood mist, dying on the spot.

If two Xianyang-level warriors suffered this, what of the soldiers behind them?

Xia Hong’s blade stretched a hundred meters—far beyond the wall’s width; the soldiers flung aside by its edges numbered at least two to three hundred, and the subsequent shockwave toppled hundreds more.

This single slash left a ten-meter-wide empty void on the wall, once packed with Beishuo defenders.

Not only empty—the wall, untouched through Daxia’s prolonged assault, now bore a two-meter-deep gouge; beneath it, the forging patterns of hundred-forged iron paste were clearly visible.

Gulp…

Whether the once-ferocious Beishuo defenders or the few hundred elite Daxia troops who had just scaled the wall, all stared first at the gouge, then upward at Xia Hong—pupils instantly filled with horror.

After horror, the two sides’ emotions diverged sharply.

On the Beishuo defenders’ faces, despair returned, thick and heavy;

Daxia’s troops flushed crimson, eyes blazing with fervor, their pupils ignited with roaring fire—they stared ahead at the Beishuo soldiers, each as energized as if drugged, roaring as they charged forward again.

“Clear space for the brothers behind! Kill!”

“Even Yang Zun hides in fear—do you maggots think you can stop Daxia’s blade?”

“Kill every last Beishuo dog!”

………………

Bam!

As if to match Daxia’s second wave of assault, a thunderous crash erupted beneath the wall.

Clearly the sound of a heavy object striking the ground!

Yue Feng, Liu Yuan, and Xiao Kangcheng, who had already reached the wall’s midpoint, all snapped to attention.

“The gate is broken! Beishuo’s fall comes today!”

“Brothers, charge!”

“Brothers of the Dragon Guard, protect the Divine Machine Crossbows—break their formation!”

………………

The gate is broken!

“Hahahaha—the end of Beishuo has come…”

Liu Yuan slashed through three Beishuo defenders before him, stared at the vast expanse of Beishuo Town, his emotions surging—he leapt high into the air and landed on the western edge of the wall.

Seeing the sloping ramp inside the wall and Beishuo soldiers continuously climbing up, his pupils brimmed with killing intent; he gripped his blade tightly and plunged straight down onto the ramp’s entrance.

After half an hour of fighting, Liu Yuan’s ten-thousand-forged silver armor was already cracked in many places—but his cultivation level was high; even when blades struck his body, he could block them with skin and flesh.

Worst case, he still had his bones beneath.

Beishuo defenders could not touch him—only by throwing themselves at him recklessly could they try to force him back from the ramp.

Yet no matter how many came, they all ended up as his blade’s victims.

In mere dozens of breaths after landing on the ramp, the half-red armor on Liu Yuan’s body turned completely crimson—some blood was his own, but most was the spray from Beishuo soldiers.

One man holds the pass, ten thousand cannot pass!

These eight words described Liu Yuan perfectly at this moment.

But to be fair, Beishuo soldiers’ will to defend the city was truly unshakable.

Hundreds, even thousands, threw themselves at him without fear—Liu Yuan finally began to retreat; seeing his arms visibly weakening from fatigue, several Beishuo officers roared and charged forward, jointly pinning his arms.

Trapped, Liu Yuan’s face darkened; seeing soldiers rushing toward his legs, he realized the enemy meant to fully immobilize him—he narrowed his pupils, readying to kick off the ground and rise—

“Liu Yuan, don’t retreat—they’ve arrived!”