Chapter 83: Blood and Flesh Grinder

Yellow qi churned everywhere; the Northern Liao cavalry could emerge from any direction at any moment. The whistling of heavy arrows never ceased in Wei Yuan’s ears, occasionally punctuated by strange, piercing whistles. These were brand-new arrows, launched from high above, capable of slightly altering their trajectory mid-fall to automatically seek out human warriors—utterly impossible to defend against. Many died before Wei Yuan’s eyes, struck down by arrows falling from the sky.

The range of these arrows was extreme; Wei Yuan had yet to spot the archers anywhere.

Wei Yuan spurred his horse through a clump of yellow qi, instinctively inhaling—and instantly felt as if he’d swallowed a mouthful of sand. His mouth and nose burned fiercely, an unbearable agony. It wasn’t actual dust in the qi; it was pure physiological irritation and harm. This yellow qi originated from the Liao lands, carried by the Northern Liao cavalry. With so many Liao riders on the battlefield now, the yellow qi permeated everywhere, making the ground feel no different from the Liao domain itself.

To Wei Yuan’s left front, a battlefield appeared: a dozen Northern Liao cavalry surrounded a handful of men, slashing and hacking. Corpses littered the ground; the few survivors were clearly at their last breath.

“No! I don’t want to die!” One of them suddenly leapt into the air, flying away toward the distance.

“Fool!” Wei Yuan couldn’t stop him—only cursed under his breath.

The man had flown barely a few dozen zhang when a chorus of whistles filled the sky. At least twenty arrows pierced the air and turned him into a sieve.

The pre-battle manual issued by the Tai Chu Palace had one rule: No one below Foundation Establishment peak may ascend into the air on the Northern Liao battlefield.

Suddenly, yellow qi surged around Wei Yuan as a Northern Liao company commander rose into the sky, scanning the battlefield.

Wei Yuan instinctively raised his hand and cast Flying Sand Technique. A whirlwind erupted around the commander, sand and pebbles the size of fists pelting him like rain—cracking his qi, nearly forcing him to lose altitude. The more yellow qi in the Liao domain, the better Flying Sand Technique worked: its power had surged by fifty percent, making it Wei Yuan’s most frequently used technique.

Before the company commander could recover from the sand assault, a golden sword-shadow streaked through the air, piercing his body. Instantly, a bolt of lightning materialized above him and struck—finally knocking him down. Before he hit the ground, Wei Yuan’s short spear shot through the air, skewering him clean through.

In an instant, the company commander was dead. The rule against ascending applied equally to the Liao cavalry.

Unaware, Wei Yuan had been fighting for nearly half an hour. He’d already replaced his spear quiver six times; his arrows were long gone. Now he used only arrows scavenged from fallen Liao corpses.

After so much fighting, he’d advanced less than five li. Most of the time, he’d been charging back and forth, focusing on slaughtering enemies. Not long ago, Bao Yun fired her third signal arrow: the message was—city defenses held, reinforcements arrived.

Upon receiving this message, the reinforcements changed tactics. No longer rushing blindly toward the besieged city where Bao Yun was trapped, they now focused on slaughtering the Liao cavalry. Massively reducing Liao numbers eased pressure on the city walls.

Wei Yuan did the same. After charging forward a few more li, he suddenly saw a thick, pure white light rising in the distance, piercing straight into the heavens. The yellow qi around him thinned rapidly, dissolving under its glow.

The source of the pure light was Bao Yun’s fortress.

As the Liao domain’s yellow qi receded, Wei Yuan’s vision expanded sharply, stretching out to nearly a hundred li. He exerted a slight force, leaping onto his horse’s back, gazing far into the distance.

Beneath the pure light lay Bao Yun’s fortress. Bao Yun could have stationed herself in a county town—but she chose to hold a forward position, her defensive zone identical to Wei Yuan’s: a walled compound. Yet the compound Wei Yuan now saw was more than ten times larger than Shayang Village—nearly half the size of a county town.

Thousands of Northern Liao iron cavalry swirled around the central fortress like a colossal vortex, hurling countless arrows at its walls. At every moment, numerous Liao riders attempted to charge the ramparts. A thousand more Liao cavalry galloped back and forth to the north, using their momentum to launch waves of arrows over a thousand zhang to strike the fortress.

Over five thousand cavalry were besieging the fortress alone; countless mobile units roamed the vast surrounding area, ambushing any reinforcements rushing to aid it.

Bao Yun’s fortress had been utterly transformed. Its perimeter was riddled with pits one chi wide and three chi deep. Unlike the pits dug by Fang He Tong, these pits had iron plates lining their inner walls—so even the hardiest Liao horses would break their legs if they stepped in. Between the pits lay countless iron spikes, each a foot long; stepping on them meant severed hooves. Layered defenses made it impossible for Liao cavalry to gallop freely within a hundred zhang—even if the riders were fearless, their horses instinctively avoided the traps.

The fortress walls stood three zhang tall—far exceeding ordinary compounds, even surpassing many county walls. The walls shimmered with blue light, treated with some unknown Dao technique: heavy arrows struck them and sank only halfway. The battlements were entirely sheathed in iron plates; even armor-piercing arrows could barely pierce them, posing no threat to defenders sheltering behind. This fortress, like Bao Yun’s courtyard in Tai Chu Palace, had been completely rebuilt and refortified.

The defenders on the walls all wore blue armor adorned with golden patterns, each wielding powerful crossbows, aiming and firing at the Liao cavalry. As one group finished firing, another immediately replaced them—leaning out, shooting, then stepping back, orderly and calm, without panic.

Waves of crossbow bolts rained down on the besieging Liao cavalry, seemingly endless. Any Liao rider who drew near the fortress was felled; those daring to charge were invariably turned into sieves.

The massive column of pure light, several zhang thick, faintly revealed a divine tree within. Each time the tree swayed, the column emitted a ring of pure radiance, empowering the defenders and repelling the Liao domain’s yellow qi. Without the yellow qi, the Liao cavalry were naturally weakened by a third; the defenders, blessed by the pure light, glowed with vigor, utterly unaware of fatigue.

Just one glance told Wei Yuan he was looking at a colossal iron hedgehog: thousands of elite defenders, endless powerful crossbows, massive array enhancements—who could possibly break this?

Wei Yuan suddenly sensed danger, dropping low onto his horse’s back. Several arrows whistled over his head; two even dipped slightly, following his motion—some tracking ability. Fortunately, these arrows were low-grade, barely qualifying as magic artifacts; their turning was clumsy. Had they been more agile, Wei Yuan might have been hit. Even one arrow wouldn’t kill him, but it would hinder his movement.

Wei Yuan hadn’t even ascended—he’d merely stood taller than others on his horse—and already multiple arrows targeted him.

Wei Yuan raised his hand and cast Flying Sand Technique over a galloping Liao rider—but the technique’s power was unusually weak. It didn’t knock him off his horse, nor did it unseat the steed. Only then did Wei Yuan remember: the Liao domain’s yellow qi had been cleared. The battlefield was now saturated with human domain’s pure qi, shifting the five elements from fire-metal-earth to wood-metal-water.

Wei Yuan raised his hand again—this time casting a Water Blade Technique, fully charged with Dao power. The blade’s strength surged. Instantly, it sliced the Liao rider and his horse into countless wounds; they tumbled from the saddle. Wei Yuan finished him with a thrown spear.

By now, after this bloody battle, Wei Yuan had perfected a tactic: use Dao techniques to wound or hinder Liao riders, then finish them with his short spear. This method was astonishingly efficient—but it demanded a powerful physique and vast Dao power. A regular Foundation Establishment cultivator would exhaust his Dao energy after firing one quiver of spears and collapse from weakness.

Centered on Bao Yun’s fortress, a vast battlefield had formed, now holding over ten thousand Liao cavalry. Human reinforcements arrived in waves, engaging the outer Liao patrols. The entire battlefield was now enveloped by human domain; Liao domain’s yellow qi had nearly vanished entirely, turning it into a massive trap—pinning over ten thousand Liao cavalry within the human realm’s pure zone. Once-fierce Liao riders grew steadily weaker; the tide of battle began to slowly turn.

(End of Chapter)