Chapter 371

The bloody wind swept the wilderness, and blaze devoured the sky.

Deep in Xuan Feixing's eyes, murderous intent had already filled him to the brim, yet he still stood firm before that mother and daughter, not retreating half a step.

This appearance clearly had only one answer——

That was, a resolve that knew no right or wrong.

Seeing Xuan Feixing remain silent and refuse to yield, the leading barbarian who gave orders lost all patience.

He had long lusted after the looks of the women behind her, and now, with no patience left to parley, he simply reached out, intending to shove past Xuan Feixing and seize them by force.

The cavalry surrounding on horseback burst into coarse laughter at the sight, muttering incessantly in an obscure barbarian tongue.

Xuan Feixing couldn't understand the words, but he could tell from the tone that they were full of frivolity, mockery, ridicule, and wanton malice.

The approaching barbarian strode forward in large steps, his movements clumsy yet urgent, while he muttered a mix of Chinese and his native language.

Xuan Feixing distractedly caught a few words, vaguely grasping their meaning: outsiders feigned composure and pretended to watch, but in truth they could hardly wait, ready to rush in and scramble for the spoils once he succeeded.

Xuan Feixing ignored them, a killing intent condensing in his eyes; before the barbarian could touch the women behind him, he sank his Qi into the dantian, jerked his wrist, and lashed his whip—wind howling—straight at the oncoming barbarian.

This whip strike was fierce and swift, carrying his full strength; were it any other day, taking such a blow would surely split skin and rend flesh.

However, however.

Yet when the whip struck the opponent's heavy iron armor, it only emitted a dull, heavy thud—no crack, not even a dent.

This all‑out strike not only failed to wound the enemy, it utterly enraged him instead.

The barbarian's formerly frivolous expression darkened instantly, and all smiles vanished from his eyes.

Bearing the tremendous weight of his armor, he strode forward and collided, the metal clanking with each step, his force deep, overbearing, and mighty as a thousand‑jin thrust.

Xuan Feixing could not dodge; in an instant the tremendous force flung him to the ground, his back slamming hard onto the rough, hard earth, dust flying up.

He reacted instantly; as soon as he landed he thrust his waist, instinctively rolling to his feet, about to whip again and fight to the death, when a dense clatter of horse hooves suddenly rang out all around......

The surrounding cavalry who had been merely watching the spectacle suddenly moved!

In his peripheral vision Xuan Feixing saw several cold flashes of light split the air—four or five sharp sabers slashing simultaneously at his face, angled to cut off every avenue of escape.

Xuan Feixing's body was the utmost in agility; twisting his waist and rolling sideways, he barely dodged the incoming blades, his movements swift and light, but faced with many foes and relentless attacks, he ultimately could not avoid the final strike.

Just an instant, just an instant!

A bone‑chilling cold shot through his back, the chill piercing cloth and flesh.

Immediately followed by a tearing agony, hot blood gushed out, streaming down his spine and dripping from his hem to pool quickly into a small dark‑red stain on the ground.

The pain swept through his body, and his vision darkened in waves.

Xuan Feixing could not see his wound, nor judge its severity; he only felt his strength draining rapidly, his back stiff and aching.

Yet he had no time to tend to his own injuries; lifting his gaze, the sight before him made his eyes blood‑red and his liver and gall feel ready to burst.

Without his desperate protection, the weak mother and daughter had no power to resist before the barbarian whose strength was astonishing.

The barbarian casually lifted one of the women and slammed her down onto the ground.

A shrill, piercing scream tore through the night; the woman struggled and shrieked desperately, her desperate, broken sobs especially shrill amid the carnage, making listeners' scalps tingle.

"Stop!"

Xuan Feixing's throat convulsed as a low, deep roar exploded, shaking his chest and making the wound agonize beyond endurance.

He gritted his teeth, bore the tearing pain, and cocked his whip again, hoping to charge forward and rescue them at the cost of his life.

But before he could take a step, a spectator cavalryman behind him tightened his reins, his tall steed rearing and galloping straight to trample his body.

A fierce wind blasted his face, the world spinning.

The heavy hooves, carrying the force of a thousand jin, crashed down; Xuan Feixing had no time to dodge, and in an instant the hooves stomped him to the ground, his chest surging with qi and blood, pain engulfing him.

Amid the swirling smoke and dust, the atrocities ahead continued.

The barbarian utterly ignored the woman's cries and struggles, violently tearing off her upper garment in a few moves, exposing her white skin to the icy night wind and the leering gazes of the brigands; shame and despair drowned the helpless woman, her wails fading to hoarse whispers.

That night on the plain, battle fires raged, slaughter shook the heavens, children wailed, women lamented, weapons clashed, hooves thundered—all manner of misery intertwined, forming a human hell of utmost cruelty, horrifying beyond measure.

Trampled by the hooves, Xuan Feixing writhed in agony, his qi and blood surging; he spat a mouthful of bloody sweetness onto the dust, a shocking sight.

His eyes overflowed with killing intent; he had already embraced a resolve to die, his fingertips quietly moving toward his bosom——

That was a small vial of poison he had specially decanted from the Five Turbid Vat before leaving the carriage, his final trump card.

He had used it once before on Feather Mountain, witnessed its potency, and had not originally prepared to wreak such devastation......

But now that things have come to this, what else could he possibly care about!

If he must die today, dragging all these villains down with him is the only right thing to do!

Xuan Feixing clenched his jaws, about to unleash his trump card and stake everything in a final, all‑or‑nothing gamble, when from the depths of the distant night came the sound of hooves splitting the air like thunder.

Everyone instinctively turned their gaze; at the horizon, a single heavy cavalryman charged forth, clad in the same Northern Dynasty barbarian garb, yet his aura and the bearing of horse and rider were utterly unlike that rough mob—superiority was obvious.

This warhorse was extraordinarily divine, jet‑black from head to hoof, with long, slender limbs, tight, smooth musculature; its gait was steady yet swift, silent on the ground yet emanating thunderous might, far surpassing ordinary battlefield steeds.

Its body was sheathed in finely crafted double‑layer Mysterious Iron armor, the patterns orderly, the feel weighty; the plates held an inward‑gleaming cold light, unlike the crude, glaring armor of common soldiers, displaying exquisite refinement and value.

The rider's attire was even more splendid and solemn: a custom‑made black‑scale armor edged with dark gold filigree, a gilded curved blade hanging at his waist, accessories exquisitely wrought—far beyond what ordinary cavalry could wear.

He sat tall and upright on the horse, steady as a rock, motionless yet awe‑inspiring.

What's even more shocking is that atop the fine horse's head constantly circles a pure white male gyrfalcon, its wings sharp, eyes keen, keeping pace with the galloping horse, tearing through the air alongside it—ferocious and spiritually perceptive, it is none other than a superb specimen of the gyrfalcon.

Such a war hawk is beyond the reach of ordinary soldiers; at a glance one can tell this person's status is exalted and his authority extremely high.

The moment this rider, hawk, and horse came charging forward, all the wantonly laughing, wantonly wicked heavy cavalry on the field changed color; their earlier arrogance and lawlessness vanished completely, replaced by bone‑deep fear and awe.

The foreign‑origin man who had been pressing down on the woman and committing atrocities was terrified out of his wits; he scrambled up from her body in panic, not even having time to straighten his clothing, utterly disheveled as he flung himself onto his horse, his voice trembling and hoarse, repeatedly kneeling to beg for mercy:

"Marshal Helian! Your subordinate knows his error; I beg the marshal to spare my life!"

Before his plea for mercy had even hit the ground, the overwhelmingly mighty heavy cavalry arrived like a gust of wind and lightning, suddenly appearing before everyone.

The panicked man begging for mercy, unwilling to accept defeat, forced himself to stay calm, raised his hand and lifted his saber, hoping to make a desperate last‑ditch resistance in a vain attempt to seize a sliver of survival.

But the man on horseback, called "Marshal Helian," moved with lightning speed—drawing his blade and slashing from midair—a fierce blade of light tore through the night, its force overbearing and peerless.

Just one strike, and again just one strike.

Just a single simple strike, and he cut down that man together with his warhorse beneath him——

Xuan Feixing could barely suppress the fear in his heart, he slightly lifted his already heavy eyelids, and for the first time saw what was called 【Man-and-Horse Shatter】.

Flesh and blood flew everywhere, extremely gruesome.

A sudden change occurred, so fast that no one could react; the remaining cavalry on the field all froze in place, nobody dared to move a muscle, and the whole scene fell into dead silence.

When Commander-in-Chief He Lian Bo Bo reined in his horse, slowly turned its head, and his icy, piercing gaze swept over the crowd, a bone-chilling chill instantly rose in everyone's hearts, cold sweat trickled down their backs, and their bodies stiffened, unable to move.

At this moment, the fallen Xuan Feixing barely managed to lift his eyes to see the visitor's appearance.

The man on horseback was extremely young, barely over twenty, tall and slender, over nine feet in height; even seated on the horse, his upright posture was clearly visible.

He bore a genuine foreign visage, with high cheekbones, handsome lines, and deep, stern features.

Although his face looked somewhat young, his whole body exuded the iron-blooded killing intent of a veteran warrior and the commanding aura of a superior, silencing the entire field; for a moment no one dared to act rashly.

Xuan Feixing's blood surged upward, he could no longer hold back his dazed closing eyes; in the final instant before losing consciousness, the last scene he heard and saw was——

This young Commander-in-Chief He Lian Bo Bo's eyes were icy as frost, he scanned the frightened and trembling subordinates below, his voice low and solemn, carrying an unquestionable military authority, and he shouted sternly:

«I have long made the military orders clear: after taking the city, I strictly forbid rape, pillage, and harm to the civilians! »

«How dare you openly defy my orders, commit wanton evil, and disregard the law?! »

?? Welcome, our North-South Dynasties' number one rebel, Bei Mo's number one deep-affection brother, the undisputed number one hero of the grasslands, Yuanlong's self-proclaimed little godfather, the man He Lian Bo Bo who puts all his strength into Shasha, making his grand entrance......