Chapter 118: Defense

Since this guy isn’t dead yet, dig quickly. Wei Yuan pressed down and lifted up with both hands, and several large stones rose under his Dao force, moved aside. Yun Feifei and Xu Wan’er also knew Xu Wenwu was beneath, and joined in digging. All three were no ordinary Foundation Establishment cultivators, and with Qingming’s enhancement, their Dao force was abundant; in moments, they cleared the rubble and rescued Xu Wenwu.

Above the underground chamber, a fallen beam had blocked the entrance; everything inside remained intact, including Xu Wenwu.

Yun Feifei’s gaze landed on Qingming, lingered for a breath, then turned away, as if she had seen nothing.

At that moment, a strange sensation prickled on her instep—she immediately knew someone was staring at her feet. She lowered her eyelids and saw a few specks of dirt and ash still clinging to her snow-white soles, making the white seem even whiter. She lifted her head slightly, following the gaze, and saw Xu Wenwu’s rapt expression.

Yun Feifei swirled her skirt, covering her feet.

She turned again and saw Wei Yuan circling Qingming, examining it top to bottom, leaving no tiny detail unobserved. If he could devote even one percent of that focus to looking at her legs, Yun Feifei would feel she was still a woman.

Qingming showed no issues—it operated perfectly, with not a trace of contamination. Wei Yuan finally exhaled in relief. He grabbed the dazed Xu Wenwu and shook him a few times; seeing all parts still intact, he relaxed.

“Let’s go to the secret vault.”

Yun Feifei and Xu Wan’er levitated into the air; Wei Yuan, however, carried Xu Wenwu and sprinted across the ground. Yet Wei Yuan’s pace was no slower than the two women’s. Xu Wenwu writhed in Wei Yuan’s grip, desperately trying to speak.

Seeing his urgency, Wei Yuan released some Dao force. Xu Wenwu lowered his voice unusually, speaking rapidly: “Such a perfect chance—look up! If you see any color, tell me right away.”

He shouldn’t have released the Dao force, Wei Yuan thought.

The Lishen Palace’s secret vault was built behind a rock formation, surrounded by barren hills with no human habitation, only traces of birds and beasts. The vault, too, was concealed by incense and devotional power, so when enemies destroyed the sect gate, they naturally overlooked it. Fortunately, Yun Feifei knew the locations of most secret vaults within the sect and had just found this one.

The vault’s entrance was simple—a rock slab covering it. After moving the rock, three storage chambers appeared. One held various raw ores, roughly seven or eight kinds, ranging from tens of thousands of catties to several hundred. Nothing rare inside—if anything had been, the True Person would have already taken it.

The second chamber contained weapon embryos—fully forged but lacking the final step of infusing Dao force to awaken their spiritual nature. Weapon embryos were worthless, so the room held over a hundred flying swords, dozens of cleavers, and hundreds of other blades; armor numbered only ten sets. Most cultivators refused to wear battle armor off the battlefield—it spoiled their elegance.

These embryos were of average grade at best; even if forged into weapons, they’d reach at most mid-grade. Their only advantage was quantity.

The third chamber held processed grain and meat, similar to the Tai Chu Palace’s military rations but slightly inferior in quality—yet abundant, totaling ten thousand catties. These rations sufficed a single catty per day for a Cultivation-Complete soldier, enough to feed a thousand elite troops for ten days.

The three retrieved the vault’s supplies and moved them near the main hall. Then Wei Yuan sensed something amiss with the prisoners’ qi—he realized the third sister was far weaker than when she’d been imprisoned. He rushed to the prison, opened the door, and saw all of them hanging upside down from the rafters. The third sister bore a sword wound through her abdomen, piercing her back; though she strained to seal it, blood still seeped slowly.

Wei Yuan didn’t recall her having such a wound. He turned to Xu Wan’er.

Xu Wan’er looked uneasy, lowering her head and whispering: “You told us not to let them escape. The others were manageable, but Third Sister had deep Dao force and many tricks—she kept trying to break free. I couldn’t be sure I’d stop her, and I feared you might need me elsewhere—if she slipped away while I was gone? So I… I added one more sword thrust, to drain her strength.”

The third sister snarled: “Don’t call me Third Sister! I don’t have a sister as cruel as you!”

Wei Yuan pulled open her robe, examined the wound, then scanned her body with his spiritual sense—he understood at once: this sword thrust was exceptionally cruel. The blade grazed her lower dantian, damaging it. To avoid ruining her Dao foundation, she must exhaust all her Dao force to seal the dantian, then use her physical strength to clamp the wound shut—or she’d bleed to death. The blade had also pierced her intestines; she must avoid violent motion, or they’d snap into pieces.

Even if Wei Yuan had done it himself, he couldn’t have done better.

Xu Wan’er appeared gentle and pure, yet when she struck, she showed no mercy. This western land truly bred fierce people—none were easy to handle.

Yet to show he surpassed Xu Wan’er, Wei Yuan had to demonstrate. Fortunately, his ten years in Tai Chu Palace had given him many ready examples—he’d learned many loose techniques from the senior sister…

Wei Yuan calmed his mind, cleared irrelevant thoughts, then searched among the rest—and casually found a method.

He pointed his finger; two searing sword qi shot out, sealing the wounds on her lower abdomen and lower back, stopping the bleeding. The third sister screamed in agony, trembling all over. The sensation of sword qi sealing wounds—he’d experienced it himself not long ago, and had since learned the importance of respecting one’s master.

Sword qi sealing wounds carried a burning effect, causing the third sister immense pain, making her unable to concentrate—she couldn’t even cast the simplest spell now.

With the prisoner threat neutralized and Yun Feifei and Xu Wenwu subtly intimidated, Wei Yuan returned to Qingming.

Soon, Xu Wenwu pieced together from fragments that a great battle was coming—and the enemy was powerful, a fight to the death. He immediately grew excited.

This was the first step of the Emperor’s conquest, the opening battle of his campaign to rule the world. No matter how strong the enemy, victory was certain! The greater the disparity in forces, the more glorious the victory—and those who stood beside the Emperor would be etched in history. Yet life was only given once; Xu Wenwu, rare indeed, became serious!

He racked his brain and finally recalled something: “In my world, there was a military sage named Sunzi…”

Wei Yuan found it strange—why was his mouth-sealing Dao technique weakening so fast? The duration grew shorter each time. But Xu Wenwu seemed about to say something useful, so Wei Yuan listened carefully.

Xu Wenwu continued: “He wrote a military treatise called The Art of War, with thirty-six stratagems—those weren’t ordinary tricks! Our ancestors fought for thousands of years using it, winning every battle!”

Wei Yuan finally showed interest—it was exactly what he needed now. He asked: “What are the thirty-six stratagems?”

Xu Wenwu suddenly froze.

The only ones he could recall from memory were “Retreat is the best option,” and under pressure, maybe “The highest form of warfare is to outwit the enemy.” The rest—he’d never even heard of, let alone remembered.

Seeing him speechless, Wei Yuan understood: this fellow probably only knew the book existed.

“Wait! I remember something else—if we’re going to fight, we need guns!”

Wei Yuan reached out, and a two-zhang-long spear appeared in his hand.

Xu Wenwu shook his head: “Not that kind of spear—yours is archaic, practically primitive! I mean modern firearms—bullets that exceed the speed of sound.”

Wei Yuan asked for a definition of “speed of sound.” Xu Wenwu explained clearly enough—the term “supersonic” was right there. Wei Yuan pondered, then said to Yun Feifei: “Go a hundred zhang away. Strike me with a sword.”

!

Yun Feifei’s figure flickered, and in an instant, she stood a hundred zhang distant. To Xu Wenwu, she had shrunk to a mere dot. She raised a finger—light flashed—and a flying sword appeared before Wei Yuan!

Wei Yuan caught the sword casually—only then did the whistling reach his ears. Yun Feifei had deliberately made noise; normally, flying swords flew silently.

Xu Wenwu had barely recovered from shock when Yun Feifei reappeared at her original spot—she hadn’t lagged far behind the sound.

“This…” Xu Wenwu’s mind went blank. Flying swords were supersonic? To dominate this world would be truly difficult!

But his mind worked fast—he hurriedly added: “Another solution: dig trenches!”

Wei Yuan probed further, but Xu Wenwu’s understanding of trenches stopped at “barbed wire in front, a ditch behind.” He remembered barbed wire only because he’d watched too many war films.

Wei Yuan had planned to seal his mouth again—but at that moment, Qingming’s transformation of heaven and earth finally extended beyond one li. The first trait manifested: Jia Mu Sheng Xuan.

Jia Mu Sheng Xuan meant vigorous vitality, flourishing growth, all trees sprouting anew—especially beneficial for Wood-element Dao arts. Within Qingming’s domain, plant growth accelerated dramatically; even nearly dead spiritual plants revived, Dao force recovery surged, and wounds healed faster. Wei Yuan could now concentrate this Sheng Xuan power onto a single person or plant to further boost growth or recovery.

The Sheng Xuan stone Wei Yuan had seen in Tai Chu Palace possessed only a function; Jia Mu Sheng Xuan was far stronger—a true trait. Not only did growth and recovery accelerate, but the very force of life surged through all trees, most importantly, reviving those already withered.

Seeing Qingming’s first trait, Wei Yuan immediately conceived a new idea for trenches. He swiftly sketched Lishen Palace’s terrain, drew curved lines along the Wu tribe’s advance route, and said: “If we dig trenches here, we can force the Wu army into the narrowest passage!”

Xu Wenwu beamed—he felt Wei Yuan was a rare sage who recognized talent, and his journey across two worlds to join him had not been in vain.

But Yun Feifei immediately said: “If the Grand Witch summons a blood curse, what good are these trenches? Won’t you just be waiting to die if you stay inside?”

Wei Yuan frowned in thought; Xu Wenwu’s heart rose to his throat. His concept of trenches was just a slightly curved ditch—he’d never considered this problem.

Xu Wan’er added: “If the enemy sends flying swords piercing along the trench, those inside become sitting targets.”

Each additional moment Wei Yuan thought, Xu Wenwu’s heart rose higher.

Finally, Wei Yuan erased the curved lines and replaced them with a series of wavy lines, then connected them with many vertical lines—until they formed a vast net.

(End of Chapter)