Chapter 704: Stalemate

Despite vomiting uncontrollably until weakened, Sun Yu reaped real benefits: Mu Mu Hewen's manifestation was finally digested by his Negative Cauldron Giant Scorpion, causing the cauldron's surface to sprout numerous runes, the scorpion to grow visibly larger, its scales more textured, and fine patterns to appear upon them.

Moreover, sand and grass began to emerge around the scorpion—this was a sign it had entered the Ten Thousand Transformations Realm.

Though he had saved over a decade of arduous cultivation, Sun Yu showed no joy; instead, his gaze toward Xiang Little Wei Yuan was filled with deep wariness, an expression identical to Ji Ji Liuli's.

Mu Mu Hewen's physical form, save for its shattered bones, remained largely intact; Xiang Little Wei Yuan sealed it away, preparing to ship it back to Qingming on the next airship. As for the few magic treasures he carried, none of the cultivators valued them, so Xiang Little Wei Yuan delivered them to the palace in exchange for military merit.

With Mu Mu Hewen's death, the Liao cavalry withdrew, leaving behind some two thousand corpses. Yet the Dao Soldier defenders also suffered nearly a hundred casualties—many killed the moment they peeked out to scout, struck down by sudden swift arrows that exploded their heads.

Xiang Little Wei Yuan urgently ordered Qingming to manufacture one hundred thousand helmets reinforced with Ming iron and deliver them to the Northern Shanmen as soon as possible.

Before Qingming's airships arrived, the Liao's first large-scale assault had already begun. At dawn, the terrifying will of the Immortals swept across the land again; Xiang Little Wei Yuan evaded it, but Sun Yu was struck, spitting up a liter of blood.

In the sky, concentric ripples constantly rippled outward—this meant the True Lords of both sides were already locked in fierce combat beyond the heavens.

On the horizon, sandstorms as massive as mountains appeared, thunder rumbled through the air, and the earth began to tremble. Xiang Little Wei Yuan suddenly felt a faint unease. He immediately ordered all spare steel shields stored in the armory to be transported to the walls; every two defenders received an extra heavy shield.

The storm weakened only ten li away; Xiang Little Wei Yuan raised his token and activated the defense ability without hesitation. He felt the Northern Shanmen's stored spiritual energy dip slightly, and within a ten-li radius around him, warriors' bodies shimmered faintly with spiritual light, reinforced by magical shields.

From the sandstorm poured countless Liao warriors, like a vast net descending upon Xiang Little Wei Yuan's tiny Zhencheng.

Xiang Little Wei Yuan's heart tightened—the Liao cavalry was far too numerous!

He held nothing back and ordered all artillery to open fire. Yet after a single volley from a dozen infantry cannons, only a few puffs of smoke erupted amid the tidal wave of Liao cavalry, producing barely a ripple before being swallowed whole.

This volley had killed only dozens of Liao horsemen? Seeing the glowing enchantments on the Liao cavalry's bodies, Xiang Little Wei Yuan realized at once: this would be a grueling battle.

Soon, fierce winds tore across the battlefield, hurling sand and stones at the defenders, forcing soldiers to squint against the stinging grit.

Within the wind came strange whistles—swift arrows and light arrows hidden in the gale flew into Zhencheng. Those unprepared, running about within the town, suffered heavy casualties.

In the sandstorm, tiny glimmers suddenly appeared. Before Xiang Little Wei Yuan could react, the glimmers transformed into Soul-Binding Arrowheads, flew into the town, circled back, and pierced the backs of several Kaihui Daoji squad leaders.

The squad leaders collapsed instantly, unable to cry out; sand poured continuously from the wounds in their backs, rapidly expanding. Their comrades could not stop it—spiritual power had no effect. They could only watch helplessly as the wounds grew to the size of a water barrel, piercing clean through, until they died.

Xiang Little Wei Yuan appeared beside He Fang and asked: "Shall we use the Shanmen's power to disperse the storm?"

He Fang shook his head, shouting over the howling wind: "The Shanmen's power is nearly gone—we must conserve it for the most critical moment! I've seen many sandstorms; this one is just bigger. Let them come close—we'll fight them near the walls. If necessary, let them enter the town—then the sandstorm loses its edge!"

Xiang Little Wei Yuan suddenly remembered: this was the very tactic he had used when he first met Fang He. Back then, the civilian militias were far too weak—they could only pile up lives and flesh, killing one Liao warrior at a time.

Yet now, years had passed in the blink of an eye.

Xiang Little Wei Yuan suppressed his faint sorrow, inspected the defenses, and adjusted the artillery. Though He Fang's talent was mediocre, as commander of the Dao Soldiers, his combat experience was immense, and Xiang Little Wei Yuan deeply valued his judgment.

Previously, the Northern Shanmen's Dao Soldiers had been equipped with a few firearms, but their main weapons remained bows and crossbows. Firearms lost much of their power in the Liao region's sandstorms and were far inferior to heavy arrows and crossbows. Moreover, the Liao bodies were sturdier than the Wu bodies; Xiang Little Wei Yuan's firearms, designed against the Wu, proved insufficient.

He Fang preferred using firearms in street fighting—quick, convenient, capable of wiping out entire groups at once, requiring no training or aiming, just instinctively pointing and firing. Even novice Dao Soldiers of Muscle-Building Realm could wield them effortlessly. In He Fang's words, they were better than swords and knives.

Half of the Qingming troops Xiang Little Wei Yuan brought were at the peak of Body Casting, wielding Flying Sword-Guns. Even suppressed by the sandstorm, they retained a range of a hundred zhang. So Xiang Little Wei Yuan waited patiently, letting the Liao draw near.

But this time, the Liao merely fired arrows from afar—their whistling shafts flew farther and struck harder in the gale.

Suddenly, a wave of arrows rained down; the squad leader beside the infantry cannons shouted: "Raise shields!"

Artillerymen snatched up the massive shields on the ground, instantly forming steel spheres. Amid strange whistles, countless armor-piercing arrows fell—even when striking the steel shields, the bearers were shaken as if struck by hammers.

Screams rang out amid the arrowstorm; artillerymen fell dead one by one. Suddenly, an arrow struck a pile of nearby cannonballs, triggering a massive explosion—a fireball instantly engulfed surrounding soldiers, flipping the infantry cannon over and hurling it down to the town's base.

"Double defense! Protect the ammunition!" Xiang Little Wei Yuan issued two orders at once.

Dao Soldiers immediately rushed to surround the infantry cannons, shielding the gun crews, while also setting up a shield formation over the ammunition piles.

In the sandstorm, something flickered faintly. Xiang Little Wei Yuan grabbed it—it was a nearly transparent little snake!

The snake's head suddenly transformed into a human face, its vertical pupils fixed on Xiang Little Wei Yuan, its voice shrill: "I will avenge Mu Mu Hewen. Die, pig-man!"

The transparent snake dissolved into a light arrow. Xiang Little Wei Yuan casually snapped it in half and tossed it aside, continuing to command.

At this moment, the Liao cavalry within his spiritual sense alone numbered thirty thousand—add to that the forces likely split to attack the two neighboring Zhenchengs—had the Liao truly committed their entire army?

The gale howled, the strange whistles growing sharper and more piercing. The clanging of heavy arrows striking steel shields rang like rain on banana leaves, growing denser, punctuated by occasional screams.

Half the infantry cannons had fallen silent; the rest still fought stubbornly. Large numbers of Liao cavalry finally began their assault—countless, covering hills and plains, charging simultaneously toward Weicheng and Zhencheng.

One hour later.

Xiang Little Wei Yuan stood on the wall, spear in hand, as streams of fire rained down before him, burning Liao cavalry—whether airborne or on ground—to ash.

Around Zhencheng lay countless Liao corpses; the seven outlying Weichengs Xiang Little Wei Yuan had originally stationed outside the town had all fallen, their defenders slain to the last.

Xiang Little Wei Yuan had stationed four hundred Dao Soldiers and one hundred Qingming troops in each Weicheng—seven Weichengs meant three thousand five hundred men, now all corpses. In exchange, the Liao left four times as many dead around the Weichengs.

Corpses littered the walls and streets of Zhencheng; heavy arrows continued to whistle down, piercing through civilian rooftops and driving deep into the ground. Some were so powerful they pierced two or three floorboards in one shot. No one was safe inside houses—only those pressed tightly against stone walls had a sliver of chance to survive.

Xiang Little Wei Yuan finally activated his token. Pure energy surged from the earth, briefly dispersing the gale and stripping away the Liao cavalry's protective enchantments.

Seizing the moment, the defenders rushed to their positions and retaliated swiftly, instantly killing a swath of Liao warriors. But the Liao's fierce counterattack also felled several archers on the walls.

At this point, Zhencheng's gate had been shattered by the Liao's manifestation through brute force—and the manifestation itself had died moments later in Xiang Little Wei Yuan's Dao Storm. Yet the Liao cavalry did not enter the town; instead, they circled it, shooting down any defender who dared to show himself, forcing the defenders to keep their heads down.

Hiding entirely behind the walls was no longer safe—the Liao occasionally rose into the air and rained down arrows from above. At such moments, Gao Xiu had to swiftly retaliate, shooting down any Liao who dared to ascend.

The Liao cavalry seemed endless, their ranks hiding numerous powerful manifestations. By now, even Sun Yu had taken up his bow. His giant scorpion still had one final dose of venom—reserved for worthy opponents.

Xiang Little Wei Yuan fought on, silently tallying the toll. At this moment, casualties had become nothing but cold numbers.

(End of Chapter)