Chapter 182: Shu Han Elite

【Bai Zeming: Since I’m the eighth Master, does that mean Emiya Shirou can still summon Saber?】

【Lin Yu: Of course!】

【Bai Zeming: Then what about these three I’m serving?】

【Bai Zeming: What are their classes?】

【Lin Yu: You’ve become a Master yourself—can’t you just check?】

Bai Zeming blinked in surprise, then realized and immediately turned to look at Zhao Yun, the only one with a solid form.

According to the rules of the Holy Grail War, Masters are granted a basic perception ability to gauge the approximate strength of opponents, observing their physical condition, muscle power, and agility.

This ability manifests differently depending on the Master.

As a transmigrator, Bai Zeming understood this ability through the lens of a game, so what he saw resembled a game’s stat panel.

【Spirit Composite (Zhao Yun Form)】

【Class: General】

So there are also Guan Yu and Zhang Fei forms?

……What kind of Ultraman triple form is this!

And this class—actually “General”?

Bai Zeming couldn’t help asking in the group chat: “Is this class in the original?”

Lin Yu replied: “Don’t care whether it’s in the original—now it exists!”

Classifications like Spearman, Archer, Cavalry—too simplistic and crude.

As a famed general of Huaxia, mastery of archery, cavalry, and infantry is the bare minimum.

Considering this, Lin Yu specifically created the “General” class so the Shu Han Elite could use all their abilities and treasures to their fullest potential.

Seeing Lin Yu’s message, Bai Zeming had no reply.

Big shots operate with wild creativity—far beyond what a little nobody like him could fathom.

Bai Zeming grumbled inwardly but kept reading.

Then he was blinded by Zhao Yun’s lavish stats—

【Strength B Durability A Agility A Magic C Luck ??? Treasure A++】

Staring at Zhao Yun’s stats, Bai Zeming’s eyes widened.

Especially those three huge question marks—his heart raced.

“What does that mean?”

“Is his luck off the charts?!”

No wonder he’s the legendary Zhao Zilong of Changshan!

With luck this high paired with A-rank agility, no wonder he charged in and out of Changban seven times!

Thinking of this, Bai Zeming grinned broadly, then turned to look at the Lancer gripping the crimson spear, and the Archer behind Yan Songlin, his expression grim.

“Next round!”

Bai Zeming held the Shu Han Elite and possessed the strength to stand against Spirits—he was brimming with confidence, utterly arrogant.

Seeing his arrogant expression, the Lancer’s lips curled in clear displeasure.

But worse was coming: Bai Zeming gestured with a finger, smiling sweetly: “Which of you two goes first?”

“Forget it—just come at me together!”

The two: “...”

The Lancer’s temple twitched; he clenched his spear tightly.

“Wait!”

At that moment, a thunderous voice rang from the side.

Bai Zeming jumped, turning quickly toward Zhang Fei’s spectral form.

“Third Master, please lower your voice—this kid’s ears can’t take it!”

“...”

Zhang Fei fell silent for a moment, then whispered: “Young brother, don’t be startled—I didn’t mean to shout.”

This was no lie; in life, though loud, he’d never been thunderous.

Legends twisted his true form, granting him enhanced vocal power and the classic image of the ferocious Zhang Fei: leopard head, ringed eyes, swallow jaw, tiger whiskers...

Thinking of this, Zhang Fei felt annoyed.

He hadn’t been handsome in life, but at least he’d been a fair-faced gentleman—how had he become so rough?

After his grumbling, Zhang Fei murmured: “First pacify the inside before confronting the outside—decide who fights before engaging the enemy!”

Saying this, Zhang Fei’s round eyes blazed as he fixed his gaze on Bai Zeming.

Zhao Yun and Guan Yu also turned, their eyes fixed on Bai Zeming.

At this point, all three had received the Holy Grail War’s rules and basic knowledge of the modern world.

Clearly, they all longed to stretch their limbs and face heroes from other eras.

Especially this Lancer—his identity had already been revealed by Lin Yu.

As a typical Celtic warrior, Cú Chulainn disliked ornamentation and preferred to fight like a beast; even a close friend, if standing in the enemy’s ranks, would sigh with amusement and fight to the death.

This pure, unyielding warrior deeply impressed Guan, Zhang, and Zhao.

The three legendary generals’ expectant gazes crushed Bai Zeming under immense pressure.

After hesitation, he ventured cautiously: “Since he’s a Lancer, why not let Fourth Master take the field?”

Fourth Master?

Zhao Yun paused, glancing at Guan Yu and Zhang Fei.

Then he smiled slightly: “Brothers, rest—you leave him to Zilong!”

Guan Yu stroked his beard, his phoenix eyes glancing at Zhang Fei: “What do you think, third brother?”

Zhang Fei thought a moment, sighed, and said: “Fine—let Zilong handle it.”

Before his words faded, Guan Yu and Zhang Fei’s forms dissolved into two streams of energy, flowing into Zhao Yun.

Instantly, Zhao Yun’s aura shifted—he erupted with overwhelming power, solidifying into a gale that swept dust and rubble across the rooftop.

The next second, he spun, spear in hand, white robe flaring, and thrust his silver spear forward.

“I am Zhao Zilong of Changshan—who dares challenge me?!”

“Zhao Yun... seems like a straightforward duelist.”

The Lancer’s handsome face broke into a genuine smile; he crossed his spear before him, eyes locked on Zhao Yun, radiating pure, fierce battle intent.

In contrast, the Archer remained silent as before, showing no intention to strike first.

“Come!”

“Second round!”

Sensing this, the Lancer no longer hesitated—he shattered the ground and vanished like teleportation.

The next instant, the crimson spear appeared before Zhao Yun, screaming through the air, piercing straight for his chest.

“Fine spear!”

Zhao Yun nodded in approval, his silver spear rising to meet the crimson tip, clinging tightly to its shaft.

The next moment, his arms exploded with force—the silver spear retracted then thrust forward like a dragon emerging from water, absorbing and releasing power, simultaneously repelling the crimson spear and stabbing toward the Lancer’s shoulder.

“What?!”

Feeling the exquisite force transmitted through the spear, the Lancer’s pupils contracted sharply.

But instantly, he roared, his arms surging with immense strength, twisting the spear back along its original path to strike Zhao Yun’s silver spear.

In an instant, silver and crimson spears clashed—the air seemed to freeze for a breath.

“Boom!”

The next second, terrifying force erupted, sending ripples through the air.

The howling wind whipped past their hair; Zhao Yun released his right hand, gripping the spear’s end and shoving it forward.

The bright silver spear bent and rebounded, using the impact’s recoil to trace swirling arcs in the air, stabbing toward the Lancer’s cheek with an unpredictable trajectory.

“Incredible reaction!”

The Lancer gritted his teeth, released his spear, and twisted his body backward into a perfect iron bridge maneuver, evading the strike.

“Ssshh—”

With a grating metallic screech, the silver spearhead scraped across the Lancer’s shoulder armor, severing several strands of blue hair.

Zhao Yun’s expression remained calm as water; he pulled the silver spear back from the armor with his left hand, then placed his right hand on the shaft—and slammed it downward with full force!

“Thud!”

A muffled crash—the bent silver spear struck the Lancer squarely on the chest.

The Lancer grunted, his bent knees giving way under the blow, crashing to the ground.

At the moment his back hit the ground, he twisted his waist and hips, rolling away from the spear’s reach.

Meanwhile, Zhao Yun used the recoil to lift the crimson spear into the air, then caught it casually.

“Strong power, good speed—but lacking adaptability.”

Zhao Yun commented calmly, then tossed the crimson spear back to the Lancer.

“Again!”

“...”

The Lancer caught the spear, gritted his teeth, and roared—his form vanished instantly.

This time, he had realized the gap between himself and his opponent in spear technique, so he abandoned technical sparring and returned to his most natural fighting style—

simple, brutal, yet highly effective high-speed combat.

Launching a storm of attacks like a beast—that was his, Cú Chulainn’s, fighting style!

“Boom!”

In an instant, the silver-armored, silver-spear Zhao Yun collided with the blue-armored, red-spear spirit.

A power a hundredfold beyond human capacity erupted instantly, generating visible shockwaves that radiated outward in circular waves from the two combatants.

“Whoo—”

The howling wind lifted the air, tearing every railing on the rooftop clean away.

The rooftop’s surface cracked inch by inch under the impact, leaving behind a succession of spiderweb-like craters.

The residual force of their battle was so violent that Red A had to snatch Sakura Matou and leap onto the water tower, overlooking the battlefield from above.

Likewise, Bai Ze grabbed Wei Gong Vice Minister by the collar and soared into the air.

Gazing down at the battlefield, he frowned, his expression grave.

With his current eyesight, he could barely track their movements, seeing only flashes of silver and blue on the rooftop, hearing nothing but the unceasing clang of metal on metal.

“Is this Lancer’s true strength?”

(End of Chapter)