Chapter 333: Biao as a Flying Tiger, A Blood Oath of Life and Death

The cold wind is biting!

The Witch Tribe has invaded the borders of Zhong Yuan, bringing not only the flames of war and chaos, but also the evil winds from beyond the borders.

The wind outside the Beijing is like a knife; it tears the skin the moment it touches the face, causing bone-chilling pain.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—the wind swirls, rising and falling, sometimes carrying something away, sometimes dropping something, all eventually returning to nothingness.

Crueler than the wind is the slaughter currently taking place on this land.

"Manxiang Tribe, the largest tribe among the vanguard army of the Witch Tribe invading Zhong Yuan."

"The Strong Martial Artist Giant who conquered Zunyang City is none other than your tribe's premier powerhouse, Baxiang Shanshanluo."

"Before you came to Zhong Yuan, had you ever heard the name of my Dayin Mountain?"

Amidst an angry shout, a person rose from the ground, yellow and black colors rolling around their body like a tide, emitting a blinding pillar of light.

They flew high into the sky above; seeing their momentum wane, they did not fall, but instead spread their arms, and two rows of brocade ribbons stood up on their clothes, like the dense feathers on a pair of wings.

A secret treasure of martial artists: the Flying Tiger Shirt, a rare auxiliary treasure of the flight type.

This item is not easy to craft and is extremely precious; among the one hundred thousand Disciples of Dayin Mountain, only a handful are qualified to wear it.

A Biao, with wings added to a tiger, becomes a Flying Tiger.

The one wearing the Flying Tiger Shirt is, without a doubt, the strongest top-tier existence among the Dayin Mountain Disciples: a Biao General.

This Biao General rode the Flying Tiger Shirt, walking on air as if on flat ground, flashing over the enemy's head.

Their enemy is a Senior Martial Master of the Witch Tribe, whose Totem spreads from their chest and abdomen to their neck, stopping abruptly at the chin.

Judging by the area of the Totem, their strength and status within the Witch Tribe are very high, even above Ge Er Bu Han.

Although this Witch Tribe expert cannot fly and stands on flat ground, two rows of ribs on their back bulge outward violently, as if two rows of extra limbs have grown under their arms, allowing them to launch attacks forward, backward, and in all four directions.

Only a Senior Martial Master can manipulate flesh and bone like this; if it were an ordinary person, they would have lost their life on the spot.

"Heaven-Breaking Slash: Prison Gate Blade!"

"Every blade strike is like a prison, with no path to survival; let one blade decide your life or death."

The Biao General held a blade, the wings on their back expanding like clouds, the speed and power of their downward slash like the descent of divine punishment.

The blade light transformed into a medium connecting the heavens and the earth, crashing onto the Witch Tribe powerhouse, the aftermath blooming like a flower.

A moment later, the Biao General withdrew the blade and stepped back, carrying the back of the blade on their shoulder, and exhaled.

Dust drifted on the opposite side; the broken corpse of the Witch Tribe powerhouse lay on the ground, arms and ribs cleanly severed.

Even for a Senior Martial Master, with their head cut off, there is no way they could survive.

Outside the battlefield, the forces of the two camps were clearly divided, silently watching the scene before them.

Behind the Biao General was a contingent from Dayin Mountain; they had traveled a long distance, deep into the territory occupied by the Witch Tribe, and had run into the main force of the Meng tribe here, leading to a battle.

This contingent was divided into three categories: there was only 1 Biao General, followed by Tiger Generals, totaling 9, all of whom were at the Martial Master level, and the remaining 100 or so were Chang Generals, distinguishable by their clothing and accessories.

The Chang Generals were the most numerous, and their quality was uneven; some had Qi and blood, others were Primary Martial Masters, and they included men, women, the old, and the young.

Looking at the Witch people of the Meng tribe opposite, their numbers were even greater, feeling somewhat like a rabble, with even the old, weak, women, and children present.

There was no help for it; the main force of the Witch Tribe was gathered near Zunyang City, and it was already not easy to scrape together so many people.

The Dayin Mountain contingent was a carefully selected elite force, thrusting into the Witch-occupied territory like a surprise troop, breaking through like bamboo.

"Hmph!" The hunters of the Meng tribe looked at each other; this Biao General had killed their tribe's experts one after another, and with the Flying Tiger Shirt for assistance, unless a Strong Martial Artist stepped forward, they could only rely on numerical superiority to wear them down.

Alas, the main force of the Witch Tribe had not yet entered the border; only this vanguard was present, and the bulk of the main force was still in Zunyang City.

Shifting their gaze to the surroundings of the battlefield, the fallen Witch people and the corpses of the fallen soldiers were scattered everywhere, all sorts of debris distributed wantonly, impossible to clean up properly.

After the two sides made contact, the fierce battle did not cease, and both sides suffered losses, but overall, the Dayin Mountain elites held the advantage, maintaining a casualty exchange ratio of 1:3.

There was no help for it; in terms of experts, Dayin Mountain had an absolute advantage.

On the Witch Tribe side, in order to hunt down Liu Fengji, the elite hunters were scattered across the wilderness and could not be present.

Even so, the Manxiang Tribe had the home-field advantage, relying on constant bloody attrition to curb the advance of Dayin Mountain here.

"Biao General of Dayin Mountain, your journey ends here."

The hunter with the highest status present, named Mudahan, said in a loud voice.

"I can guess your intentions; you are here to meet the noble families escaping from the city. Only noble families are qualified to make your sect risk deep penetration into enemy territory."

"Here, we don't fear how many people die; Witch lives are cheap, but as long as you lose the nobles, we win."

"From just now, you are destined to be nailed here; don't even think about going anywhere!"

Although the Witch people are brainless, they even understand the concepts of strategic intent and tactical exchange.

The Biao General heard Mudahan's words and laughed, "Those are things for the higher-ups to consider. I came here this time just for a sparring match, to kill to my heart's content."

"Whether the nobles live or die depends on their fate; I am just doing my human part."

"The fight isn't over yet; send someone else to fill in, I haven't killed enough yet!"

Hearing this, the Witch Tribe powerhouses behind Mudahan were all enraged; they were either Senior Martial Masters or Intermediate Martial Masters, high-level experts in the Witch tribes—how could they endure such contempt from the opponent?

"It's a pity, if Ge Er Bu Han were here, he would have the Great Witch's puppet, and would surely be able to..."

Ge Er Bu Han and Mudahan were life-and-death brothers in the tribe who had exchanged Qi and blood, their Totems connected.

Ge Er Bu Han was famous for his wisdom; although he was only an Intermediate Martial Master, he was one of the high-level members of the tribe.

Mudahan was famous for his strength; he was 5 years younger than Ge Er Bu Han, but had achieved the rank of Senior Martial Master first.

As Mudahan was pondering, he suddenly felt a stinging pain; a large patch of his Totem bulged outward on his skin, terrifyingly like needle pricks.

His nose and mouth emitted a whistle-like sound, and suddenly he gave a muffled groan, spitting out a large mist of blood.

The next moment, Mudahan shed tears; his good brother Ge Er Bu Han was dead.

The proof was the patch of Totem on his chest, which had completely turned from indigo to blood-red.

This is the 'Blood Oath' within the Totem; life-and-death brothers exchange Totems, and they are linked to each other. If one dies, the other triggers the Blood Oath, and the exchanged Totem turns blood-red until they avenge their brother, at which point it returns to its normal color.

"Ge Er Bu Han is dead; my brother is dead."

He was filled with shock amidst his grief; Ge Er Bu Han had a Fist Intent Puppet, yet he was actually killed.

An Intermediate Martial Master, accompanied by a High-level Martial Master—what kind of person could kill Ge Er Bu Han under the protection of a Fist Intent Puppet?

"Your Dayin Mountain has another group of people; you are not the only Fierce General, did you split your forces into two?"

Mudahan suddenly understood, and he looked at the other party with eyes full of hatred.

Fierce General: I did not, don't spout nonsense.

(End of this chapter)