Chapter 703: First Battle

The Dingyue Stele descended, and the Liao clans assembled multiple large armies; the Tai Chu Palace had its own response.

Five thousand Dao soldiers and one thousand Dao Foundation cultivators under the Tianqing Palace were transferred from other regions to reinforce the Seventh Garrison.

This was only one of the routes; subsequently, more units arrived from other directions, until Little Wei Yuan commanded fifty thousand Dao soldiers, including two thousand Dao Foundation cultivators, plus the one thousand Dao Foundation cultivators brought from Qingming—now Little Wei Yuan had three thousand Dao Foundation cultivators at his disposal.

Most of these Dao Foundation cultivators had achieved their foundation in Qingming and naturally bowed to Little Wei Yuan.

Meanwhile, the Sixth and Eighth Garrisons on Little Wei Yuan's left and right flanks were also reinforced, each expanded to thirty thousand troops. In addition, the Master of Hao Tian Temple personally sent Little Wei Yuan a token, granting him limited authority to mobilize the forces of the Northern Shanmen.

The Shanmen's power resembled Qingming's realm energy, though weaker, since the Northern Shanmen spanned vast territory and required defense everywhere against Liao raids.

When the Dingyue Stele fell, Little Wei Yuan believed it targeted Feng Feng Chutang, but his Seventh Garrison bore the first blow, so he adjusted his strategy.

Two airships anchored in Qingming had already loaded soldiers, tents, and provisions, but upon Little Wei Yuan's order, all troops disembarked, urgently switched to bullets, breastplates, and firearms, then took off immediately for the Northern Shanmen.

Meanwhile, Bao Yun, left behind in Qingming, summoned major merchant guilds and requisitioned two additional large airships, each loaded with weapons and equipment sufficient to arm ten thousand soldiers, flying toward the Northern Shanmen.

Little Wei Yuan now stood in the swirling dust of the gale, blueprint in hand, directing countless Dao soldiers to urgently modify the Zhencheng. The two Liao encampments, positioned too far forward, had been abandoned; Little Wei Yuan withdrew all troops back.

Having abandoned the Liao encampments, Little Wei Yuan began constructing multiple small outposts no more than five li from the Zhencheng. Each outpost's wall stood two zhang high, with multiple ditches dug connecting to the Zhencheng's base.

The Zhencheng's walls were urgently widened, not raised, and infantry cannons were deployed along them. The side gates were modified and widened to allow war chariots to pass.

With thousands of Dao Foundation cultivators and over fifty thousand Dao soldiers laboring, the fortification upgrades progressed at astonishing speed, completing all work before the Liao forces finished assembling and launched their southern advance.

On the tenth day after the Dingyue Stele was erected, the first batch of five hundred thousand Liao cavalry assembled and began rolling southward.

Little Wei Yuan stood atop the Zhencheng wall, watching the three outposts lined up ahead, with two more on each flank. To attack the Zhencheng, the Liao army had to detour around the outposts and endure continuous fire from them—or eliminate the outposts directly, only to face bombardment from the Zhencheng's cannons.

Near midday, a wall-like dust cloud rose on the distant horizon, advancing slowly.

Little Wei Yuan narrowed his eyes, zooming in to see countless cavalry within the dust, their military aura fused with the sand and wind.

At fifty li, the Liao cavalry began selecting ground to establish camps, then split off tens of thousands of iron cavalry, forming dozens of units of several thousand each, advancing toward the defensive line. These reconnaissance units did not approach the cities but circled them; some rode straight into the Shanmen's interior across open terrain.

This was the Northern Liao's standard tactic: their cavalry moved like the wind, unmatched by human horsemen. The Northern Liao often sent multiple cavalry units deep into human lines to harass, burn, kill, and plunder, then withdrew calmly before human armies could respond.

But the Northern Shanmen of Tai Chu Palace was no easy place to penetrate. After these Liao units advanced more than ten li, several large Dao techniques descended, coating them and their mounts in thick spider silk, adding a thousand jin of weight to every body, instantly slowing them.

But the Liao cavalry had prepared: each man burst into yellow light, using magic power and military aura to dispel the Dao techniques. Yet as soon as they cleared one, new binding techniques fell again, while multiple Dao soldier units surged forth from all sides, enhanced with Divine Speed, rushing toward the cavalry units.

Little Wei Yuan also dispatched three thousand Dao soldiers mounted on horseback, along with his only three war chariots, coordinating with a thousand cavalry to strike the Liao cavalry's rear and cut off their retreat.

The main Liao force showed no fear; thousands of riders charged forward with shouts toward Little Wei Yuan's temporary line. Little Wei Yuan stood atop a war chariot, watching the Liao cavalry approach, and ordered: "Dismount! Form ranks! Aim!"

All cavalry dismounted; a few led their horses to the rear of the chariots for guard duty, while the rest planted their massive shields into the ground, opening the two support struts behind each shield—three chi wide, four chi tall—forming a shield wall. Soldiers hid behind it, aiming their flying-sword guns at the rapidly approaching Liao cavalry.

"Fire!" Little Wei Yuan ordered again.

The three war chariots fired at once; in thunderous blasts, over a dozen Liao riders were blown into the sky! One explosion detonated beneath a rider—he and his horse shot high into the air, then crashed down hard. Equipment scattered across the ground; the rider lay motionless, the horse still writhing in agony.

Artillery fire came rapidly; chaos erupted among the Liao cavalry, yet the main force pressed forward relentlessly. At roughly two hundred zhang, waves of flying swords flashed in, cutting down every Liao rider at the front.

But the Liao cavalry charged forward without pause, sacrificing heavily until they finally reached Little Wei Yuan's blocking line. A few riders broke through, smashing into three or four heavy shields before being forced to halt.

As the horses stopped, dozens of flying swords surged in, slaughtering the riders instantly.

Several other Liao riders reached the war chariots, slashing with their blades—but whether blade qi or steel blades struck, they could not scratch the chariot armor.

Eight magical swords flew out from within the chariots, slicing the riders into pieces. Then the magical swords whirled around the chariots, killing any Liao rider who dared approach.

From afar, heavy arrows and armor-piercing magical arrows whistled in—but all stuck uselessly against the chariots, unable to penetrate armor equivalent to four stacked heavy shields.

Some Liao soon spotted the chariots' weakness and began shooting arrows directly at the cannon mouths. The Northern Liao were born horse archers; even at dozens of zhang, they could accurately strike the cannon mouths.

Yet each war chariot had not only two gunners and one commander, but eight Dao Foundation cultivators dedicated to propulsion. Now that the chariots stood still, they freed their hands, using spiritual sense to intercept heavy arrows aimed at the cannon mouths.

At this moment, Little Wei Yuan, who had held back until now, finally acted—deflecting each accurate heavy arrow, allowing the chariot cannons to keep firing.

The Liao had never seen such combat; within moments, they suffered heavy casualties and were forced to retreat, regrouping with other units until they amassed ten thousand cavalry before charging again. Meanwhile, tens of thousands of cavalry surged from the Northern Liao camp to rescue them.

Little Wei Yuan refused to be caught between two fronts; he ordered the cavalry to regroup, remount, and retreat to the Zhencheng, recalling the three thousand Dao soldiers as well.

The combined tens of thousands of Liao cavalry would not retreat easily; they attempted to assault Little Wei Yuan's city, charging like whirlwinds and firing heavy arrows from over a hundred zhang away at the outposts and Zhencheng walls.

To strengthen defense, Little Wei Yuan ordered steel shields nailed behind every battlement. Even if a Liao officer's heavy arrow pierced three chi of wall, it could not penetrate the steel shield.

The defenders on the walls used flying-sword guns with a range of three hundred zhang—slightly less than heavy arrows, yet sufficient to cover the Liao cavalry. Moreover, flying swords traveled far faster than heavy arrows, making them nearly impossible to dodge.

In the first volley, the Liao cavalry, caught off guard, lost over a hundred riders at once.

Little Wei Yuan now stood atop the Zhencheng wall, ordering the cannons not to fire, observing the Liao movements.

Suddenly, a roar rang out from the Liao cavalry: "Brat! Come fight me, Mu Hawan!"

Then a Liao warrior in ordinary cavalry garb suddenly leapt into the air, leaving trails of afterimages—his speed even outpaced heavy arrows!

Little Wei Yuan's pupils contracted: on this Liao warrior, he saw traces of the Left Prince's immortal power!

Instantly, a Dao technique struck Mu Hawan, attempting to dispel the immortal power infused in him. But a flash of yellow immortal light on Mu Hawan's body neutralized the technique.

Mu Hawan sneered, his short blade glowing with immortal light—this was a strike infused with the Left Prince's power, locked and guaranteed to hit.

Yet Little Wei Yuan's figure vanished like a soap bubble—he had failed to lock onto Little Wei Yuan!

The strike missed. Mu Hawan moved too fast, sweeping over the entire Zhencheng wall; his body flickered as Little Wei Yuan's spells struck him one after another, trying to dispel the same immortal-infused speed technique.

Mu Hawan sneered. The immortal power granted to him was called 【Wind Blade】, enabling a guaranteed-hit strike through supreme speed, lethal against ordinary Dharma Phantoms. His targeting used the Left Prince's power; under rank suppression, ordinary Dharma Phantoms could not evade.

Mu Hawan did not understand why his first strike had failed—perhaps just a fluke. He believed he would not miss again.

As for Little Wei Yuan's attempts to dispel his speed enhancement, Mu Hawan found it laughably naive. If immortal arts could be dispelled, the world would already be in chaos.

He turned back, accelerated again toward Little Wei Yuan, and activated his lock-on at the moment of impact!

Then his strike missed again.

Mu Hawan could not believe it—two misses in a row? He could not lock onto Little Wei Yuan at all. Did this brat possess some immortal treasure?

His body still flickered with yellow immortal light, dispelling spell after spell. Yet Little Wei Yuan was like a stubborn donkey, relentlessly casting dispelling techniques—dozens fell in a single breath, a rain of spells that left Mu Hawan startled.

Mu Hawan thought: if the third strike still misses, then Little Wei Yuan definitely has an immortal treasure—I must retreat and find another way. This glory is not mine to claim.

His form flickered in and out, crossing a thousand zhang in an instant, brushing past Little Wei Yuan—still no hit!

Before he could vanish, a Dao technique suddenly descended from above, within which a three-eyed bird-headed figure faintly floated. His yellow immortal light flared brightly—then vanished.

The Left Prince's immortal art had been dispelled?!

He froze for a single heartbeat—then dozens more Dao techniques struck him: binding, slowing, adding weight, numbing, plus spells imbued with foul, greasy, stinking, sticky essences—Mu Hawan instantly felt as if he had plunged into a swamp of sludge, his movements agonizingly slow.

Then his vision went black—he saw nothing, sensed nothing—only that his ribs had broken in a full row.

Mu Hawan seemed to hear a scream, then regained awareness—only to find his chest completely caved in, as if crushed by some giant beast.

Nearby in the air, a particularly adorable girl crouched, vomiting uncontrollably.

Then Mu Hawan saw a perfect woman before him, her aura like a mountain, reaching down to seize his shoulder!

Only now did the pain surge through Mu Hawan's body. He gritted his teeth and slashed backward at her arm—but his immortal-enhanced blade barely cut her skin before jamming against bone.

The woman felt nothing, seized his shoulder, and shook him lightly. Instantly, a rapid crackling erupted across Mu Hawan's body—he counted ninety-seven fractures and breaks. His soul-sea nearly shattered; his Primordial Spirit grew dazed.

Yet the woman suddenly showed alarm, recoiling instantly, then frantically wiping her hands with a cloth.

Little Wei Yuan appeared behind him, his hand snapping out, using the Nine You Soul-Seizing Art to extract Mu Hawan's Dharma Phantom, while simultaneously summoning Sun Yu to his side and barking: "Swallow him!"

Sun Yu's Dharma Phantom—the Giant Scorpion Bearing the Cauldron—opened its maw and swallowed Mu Hawan's Dharma Phantom whole.

Little Wei Yuan finally exhaled, released his grip, and tossed Mu Hawan's corpse into the city, smiling: "Close call! He was infused with immortal power—could not be captured alive. Had I waited another moment, he would have detonated his Dharma Phantom. We'd have gotten nothing."

Little Wei Yuan finished speaking, then noticed the strange atmosphere around him. Sun Yu stood expressionless, asking: "Why didn't you swallow him yourself?"

That question stumped Little Wei Yuan. He believed he had no ability to devour Dharma Phantoms—only to devour human Dharma Phantoms and feed them to the Three-Eyed Bird-Head. But the Three-Eyed Bird-Head showed no interest in non-human Dharma Phantoms.

Feng Feng Chutang's Qianjiao was still digesting, and the absorption effect was poor; Little Wei Yuan feared Sun Yu might not consume it cleanly, so in desperation he called him.

Little Wei Yuan's gaze shifted, suddenly noticing the Giant Scorpion behind Sun Yu, vomiting.

(End of Chapter)