Chapter 334: Decisive Battle with the Martial Sovereign

The process of killing Bi Xuan was, of course, spectacular; Bai Lang entered the later‑era Inner Mongolia, where the rulers of the steppe were the Turkic people, though not all herders were Turkic—still, their temperaments were much the same, and robbing travelers had long become a habit. In any case, Bai Lang took out money to buy food, and if those herders were tempted to rob—don't forget that Bai Lang was still accompanied by three beauties… Of course, no one would want the old man.

If they were tempted to rob, then Bai Lang could only send them to their deaths. Bai Lang usually didn't carry weapons; the so‑called lethal weapons, the Zao Yang spear and Pu Dao, were left in the cart, and he only wore a straight sword at his waist. When those herders tried to act, Bai Lang would grin wickedly and kill—bowing and begging for mercy was useless, and his killings always left blood, water and shredded flesh everywhere, each time drawing the three women's sideways glances, "Can't you kill a little more gracefully?"

Bai Lang's killings kept the same style; leaving a whole corpse intact was impossible. With a casual Black Tiger Heart Extraction, the unlucky victim opposite would get a clean hole through the chest. If he struck the Heavenly Spirit Cover, the opponent's crumbling skull would probably only be found below the navel. "When you kill, kill through!" Bai Lang kept saying, "Don't harbor any luck‑of‑the‑draw mentality, women." At such moments he would point at the corpse and say, "What if this person's heart is on the right side? Using Black Tiger Heart Extraction on the left would let him escape, wouldn't it?"

"Whose head would grow under the crotch?" Shang Xiuxun dared to speak and act, pointing at another corpse and asking Bai Lang, "My hands are all brain‑juice and blood water; don't touch me at night!" Bai Lang roared with laughter. As the gang qi swirled, the blood, water and brain‑juice on his hands instantly fell to the ground, yet the scent lingered a bit; Bai Lang inhaled deeply, "It's a rather sweet smell." This person was already a little perverse.

He drove the carriage, gathering the sheep and horses taken from the reckless herders, and pushed deep into the steppe; finding the Turkic main camp was not hard—on the steppe people always follow water and grass, so locating a river essentially leads to a large Turkic settlement. That's how Bai Lang, following the river, found the Turkic tribe scattered like stars across the vast grassland. As a great tribe, they naturally didn't rush to loot like the small herders; instead, when a warrior rode in, they first observed before acting.

It wasn't foolish—a man strolling the steppe with an old man and three beauties must have something hidden. Moreover, this man… the Turkic warrior rode a flying horse back, produced a piece of silk, muttered incantations while unrolling it and examining it, then looked up at Bai Lang. Soon after, a horn sounded—that was the alarm. Clearly they recognized him as Grand Master Bai Lang.

On the battlefield stood the war god who had completed the Thousand‑Man Slash.

The Thousand‑Man Slash was accomplished in less than a year, and Bai Lang's martial arts had already spread across the world—being the most formidable Impenetrable Blade and Spear Divine Power, a divine skill any general dreamed of. The reputation of the Thirteen Tai Bao Golden Bell Shield was now known throughout the land. With Bai Lang's arrival, the Turkic tribe naturally faced a great enemy; he was a fierce commander who could take a thousand opponents on one horse, and under his Impenetrable Blade and Spear, grinding him down might still cost a thousand lives, perhaps two or three thousand.

Even the world's three great Grand Masters might not achieve this; cutting down thousands amid a sea of armies, even Martial Sovereign Bi Xuan might lack such endurance. Meanwhile, Bai Lang's weapons on the carriage shone brightly, each a peerless lethal instrument. The Zao Yang spear must weigh over a hundred jin, its tip black as tar with a hint of purple—perhaps indelible blood that cannot be wiped away? The Pu Dao's back is thick and the blade a single long piece; the blade's greenish stains are also unerasable blood marks. How many lives have been taken to leave those marks?

These Turkic warriors were all veterans, naturally exuding a battle‑hardened aura; at a glance at the two weapons they could sense the grim, roaring intent of slaughter—perhaps the weapons had become cursed arms capable of eliminating any skullduggery. Bai Lang raised his voice and said, "Someone here comes to challenge Bi Xuan; you may go inform him."

When it comes to challenges, Martial Sovereign Bi Xuan never shied away; the more the better. Though the Turkic tribe's khan considered simply eliminating Bai Lang to prevent the Martial Sovereign's defeat from shaking the warriors' morale, he realized that doing so would likely result in being killed by the Martial Sovereign. Moreover, facing the battlefield Grand Master with Impenetrable Blade and Spear, Bai Lang, he had no confidence in killing him—once Bai Lang broke out, even killing his women would only forge a great vendetta; as long as Bai Lang found a chance to strike, his martial skill would cause the Turkic tribe to disperse after a few more raids.

The Martial Sovereign arrived three days later, the air suffused with scorching, dry heat as if a great sun had descended upon the world. The Turkic warriors wore fanatical expressions, shouting in unison, "Martial Sovereign! Martial Sovereign!" Yet the arriving Martial Sovereign Bi Xuan exuded an eerie, incomprehensible awe‑inspiring aura, as if a deity‑demon secretly ruled the great steppe. His physique was perfect, bronze‑colored skin gleaming with dazzling luster, his legs unusually long, giving his majestic frame a thrust toward the heavens; the wild‑hemp robe draped on him fluttered in the wind, his palms broad and massive, seeming to contain the world's most terrifying power. Most striking, he was like a vast ocean full of hidden currents, motion containing stillness, stillness containing motion, leaving observers utterly unable to grasp his movements.

His jet‑black hair was swept straight back into a knot; his handsome, anciently elegant face was like a flawless bronze statue, a glance at his eyes could haunt one for a lifetime, stirring dread. A high, straight nose bore a pair of eyes filled with uncanny charm, cold yet radiant, never revealing any change of feeling inside, making people feel he could at any moment strike down any person or object without a trace of remorse.

"Ah! Sissy!" Bai Lang roared with laughter, giving no respect, prompting the Turkic warriors to glare angrily, but upon seeing Bai Lang, their anger turned to fear and they lowered their heads. What they saw seemed like a massive tiger or the white winter gale sweeping the steppe, killing everything in its path. Bai Lang stroked his own beautiful mustache and laughed heartily, mocking the Martial Sovereign Bi Xuan for being completely bald—perhaps a eunuch?

Bai Lang's looks differed from Bi Xuan's brand of handsomeness; Bai Lang embodied the true ancient traditional warrior aesthetic. Bi Xuan showed no anger; he simply stared at Bai Lang while his 99‑jin spear slowly rose, pointing at Bai Lang. Bai Lang's palms clashed like a great bell, and his bones cracked and popped, the corner of his mouth curling up to reveal a single white canine tooth. Bai Lang felt his blood boil—though he could not give his all, the opponent before him was undoubtedly a worthy adversary!