Chapter 26: One City, One Gate, Black Armor Broken

Before Hanzhou City Gate, bloodwater had frozen into dark red ice on the snow.

The Black Armored Iron Pagoda still charged forward.

They were Prince of Nanyue Han Jin's most proud iron cavalry, once trampling three cities to rubble in a single night on the Southern Border plains, and once piercing through twenty thousand enemy infantry with only three thousand horsemen.

But tonight, they were halted before a shattered city gate.

What blocked them was not the city wall.

It was Jiang Che's single sword strike.

And the lives of all in Hanzhou.

Jiang Che stood at the front, Green Bamboo Sword held horizontally before him, its green light dimmer than at first, even beginning to tremble faintly.

His palms were split at the tiger's mouth, blood dripping down the hilt.

Behind him, the remnants of the Northern Garrison Army, newly recruited youths, wandering sword cultivators, and townsfolk pressed desperately against hastily piled beams and stone walls.

"Hold!"

Chen Shanhe's voice was already hoarse.

His severed arm's iron hook was embedded in a massive log; with his other hand, he swung his blade, cleaving through Nanyue soldiers who had breached the gate crack.

"Whoever steps back, Hanzhou's wives, children, and elders lie behind you!"

No one retreated.

A young new recruit was pierced through the chest by a long spear; even as he died, he clung tightly to the shaft, giving his comrade beside him a chance to strike.

A blacksmith swung his great hammer, crushing the helmet of a Black Armored Cavalryman who had crawled in, only to have his own leg broken beneath a horse's hoof.

Lying in a pool of blood, he still shouted: "Block the gate! Don't mind me!"

Xie Tingxue stood beside the gate, her white robes long stained red.

Her sword moved too fast to see; every streak of white blade-light that fell brought down a Nanyue expert.

The Green Blade Camp sword cultivators formed a sword array behind her.

These wandering martialists had once hated obeying orders.

But now, not one of them broke formation.

Because they finally understood what Jiang Che's words meant.

Their swords were not just for martial arts brawls.

They could also guard a city.

Outside the city, Han Jin's face was ashen.

The Black Armored Iron Pagoda's charge was choked in the narrow gate, unable to unleash its full might, instead being held back by Hanzhou defenders trading lives for lives.

The deputy general cried urgently: "Your Highness, we can't keep wasting like this! Iron Floating Tower losses have exceeded three thousand!"

Han Jin replied coldly: "Three thousand for Hanzhou's gate is not a loss."

The deputy general gritted his teeth: "But the gate hasn't broken yet!"

Han Jin's gaze turned dark.

He stared at the black-clad figure within the gate.

Jiang Che.

As long as Jiang Che did not fall, Hanzhou's morale would not break.

"Order."

Han Jin slowly raised his long spear.

"I shall break the gate myself."

The deputy general's face paled: "Your Highness!"

Han Jin ignored him.

He spurred his horse; the Black Armored warhorse let out a low neigh, its hooves shattering ice and snow as it slowly advanced toward the gate.

As he moved, the entire force of thirty thousand Iron Floating Towers seemed to condense into a single line, all pressure focused on him and his spear.

Inside the city, Jiang Che suddenly looked up.

He felt it.

Han Jin was no ordinary Feudal King.

His martial path had reached First Grade Peak.

Even half a step into Earthly Immortal.

Xie Tingxue whispered: "Be careful."

Jiang Che nodded.

Han Jin arrived ten paces from the gate, his spear slanted toward the ground.

"Jiang Che."

His voice cut through wind and snow.

"If you open the gate and surrender now, I shall spare the lives of Hanzhou's people."

Jiang Che smiled.

"Lu Heng said the same thing."

Han Jin frowned.

Jiang Che raised his sword: "But later I learned, trusting someone like you is worse than trusting a dog."

On the city wall, someone began to laugh first.

Then all of Hanzhou's defenders laughed.

Their laughter was hoarse, yet it darkened the faces of the Nanyue troops.

Killing intent surged violently in Han Jin's eyes.

"Seeking death."

He charged forward abruptly.

One man, one horse, yet they unleashed the momentum of a thousand troops and ten thousand horses.

Black qi coiled around the long spear, vaguely condensing into a ferocious dragon.

Chen Shanhe cried out in shock, "Black Dragon Breaking Formation Spear!"

This was the inherited supreme art of the Nanyue Han Clan, specialized in breaking military formation qi.

As Han Jin thrust his spear forward, the city-protecting sword light condensed by Jiang Che before the city gate instantly dented inward.

Jiang Che's knees sank, and the ground beneath his feet exploded.

Gritting his teeth, he did not retreat.

The Green Bamboo Sword and the black spear locked firmly against each other.

As the two forces collided, every fragment of gravel within the gate tunnel floated suspended, then burst apart with a bang.

Han Jin sneered, "The power of an entire city? It amounts to no more than this."

Blood spilled from the corner of Jiang Che's mouth.

"Is that so?"

Suddenly, he released his left hand and pressed his palm against the temporary stone wall behind him.

In the next instant, the Northern Town Small Flags hanging before the doors of every household in Hanzhou City lit up simultaneously.

The Ancestral Hall Heroic Soul Tablets trembled and hummed.

Three hundred and sixty strands of City-Protecting Sword Intent converged from throughout the city.

Everyone behind Jiang Che felt a surge of warmth rush from their chests toward the front.

It was not cultivation.

It was not blood and qi.

It was a vow.

A vow that Han Zhou would not fall.

A vow that their families would not die.

A vow that in this world, there could exist a city that does not kneel.

Jiang Che lifted his head, green light burning in his eyes like fire.

"Han Jin."

"Did you hear that?"

Han Jin frowned. "Hear what?"

Jiang Che spoke word by word:

"This is Han Zhou telling you to get lost."

The Green Bamboo Sword pressed forward violently.

The illusory black dragon let out a mournful cry.

Han Jin's expression changed drastically; he and his warhorse were both blasted back three steps.

Three steps were not many.

Yet they plunged the entire Nanyue military formation into dead silence.

Han Jin had retreated.

Jiang Che gave him no chance to catch his breath.

He stepped out of the city gate.

One man, one sword, voluntarily stepping out of Hanzhou City Gate.

Xie Tingxue's pupils contracted slightly.

Chen Shanhe roared, "Young Master!"

With his back to Han Zhou, Jiang Che spoke only one sentence:

"Close the gate."

Everyone froze in bewilderment.

Jiang Che repeated, "Block the gate, defend the city."

"I go to slay the king."

Amidst the wind and snow, holding the Green Bamboo Sword, he walked alone toward the hundred thousand troops of Nanyue.

Han Jin stared at him, then suddenly laughed.

"Great courage."

Jiang Che raised his sword.

"My courage is not great."

"I have just killed a few kings; it has become a habit."