Chapter 840: Stalemate

When Xiang Little Wei Yuan returned to the front, dawn was nearly upon them; the Wu clan had fully seized the first line of defense and was now assaulting the second. Over a million troops from both sides clashed along a hundreds-of-li-long front, their lines interwoven and the situation complex.

In a slightly wider trench, a heavy-armored captain swung two dark-blue-glowing muskets in his hands, each barrel fitted with a three-foot-long bayonet-sword combo, delivering a pre-battle pep talk to hundreds of heavy-armored soldiers.

The captain's head and face were hidden beneath his helmet, but his accent revealed him to be Xu Xu Wenwu.

He spoke with fiery passion, yet his soldiers—all Dao soldiers from the Xu family's youth corps—remained utterly motionless, silently watching Xu Xu Wenwu. Though he knew these men rarely spoke, for some reason, Xu Xu Wenwu felt they were staring at a fool.

At that moment, urgent bugle calls rang out. Xu Xu Wenwu listened carefully to the number and rhythm of the blasts, then shouted: "Our turn! Follow me, crush the Wu clan!"

He pulled out a blue talisman, ignited it with Dao power, and countless points of blue spiritual fortune surged onto his squad's Dao soldiers. Then Xu Xu Wenwu roared and leapt up, charging toward the Wu clan just beyond the third trench!

But as soon as he rose three feet off the ground, two Dao soldiers seized his calves and yanked him back to earth.

The two soldiers then pinned him down firmly, preventing any movement, while the rest of the Dao soldiers surged past him and plunged into the Wu ranks. Only after most of the soldiers had charged forward did the two finally release him.

Xu Xu Wenwu flew into a rage, cursed loudly—and suddenly, a strange war chariot appeared on the battlefield, its twin cannon muzzles glowing as countless light points converged into them.

But Xiang Little Wei Yuan, hovering above, saw it clearly. He pointed a finger—the chariot vanished instantly. Xu Xu Wenwu's Dao foundation was sealed within his body, unable to manifest.

With no other choice, Xu Xu Wenwu knew only a handful of people in Qingming possessed such power—and each was someone he dared not offend. He finally calmed down, recalled what he'd learned in school, and led his five-hundred-man squad into the frontlines, beginning to fight the Wu clan.

Though he'd been on the battlefield before, this was his first close combat against the Wu clan. Xu Xu Wenwu broke into a cold sweat, his limbs numb. Suddenly, a heavily armored Wu warrior leapt out from nowhere and smashed down at Xu Xu Wenwu's head!

Years of rigorous training finally kicked in. His body instinctively raised the musket and pulled the trigger. A long tongue of flame erupted from the egg-sized muzzle, its roar drowning out all nearby noise. The terrifying recoil hurled the Wu warrior backward, leaving a trail of blood and flesh behind him like a crimson banner unfurled.

Only then did an unremarkable Dao soldier behind Xu Xu Wenwu lower his musket.

Having killed for the first time, Xu Xu Wenwu finally steadied himself. The battlefield no longer seemed so terrifying; the lessons from training returned to his mind one by one.

His spiritual sense swept rapidly across the surroundings—quick, brief, and precise—already grasping the battlefield's layout. This was a training requirement: the Wu clan had many spells targeting spiritual sense, and some poisons could damage it, so scanning the battlefield demanded speed and immediate withdrawal.

With the surroundings clear, Xu Xu Wenwu began issuing orders, leading his squad to strike the enemy's weakest points.

After pushing forward through fierce fighting, he actually reached the rear of a Wu unit. The young general commanding this sector, seeing the advantage, immediately ordered nearby forces to converge and encircle the several-thousand-strong Wu force, preparing to annihilate it.

Xu Xu Wenwu's unit held the most critical position—blocking enemy breakout attempts while holding off reinforcements, under immense pressure. In the midst of battle, he suddenly sensed the spiritual fortune vanishing from many of his own Dao soldiers. He ignited another blue talisman, and a thousand streaks of blue qi spread outward, reinforcing the human Dao soldiers.

In the brutal fighting, Dao soldiers fell constantly, and spiritual fortune drained rapidly. After burning two more blue talismans, he finally received word that the encircled Wu forces had been wiped out. These blue talismans were specially crafted by Xiang Little Wei Yuan, each containing a thousand strands of human fortune qi. When ignited with a specific incantation, they bestowed spiritual fortune upon nearby allied Dao soldiers. This talisman was customized for Xu Xu Wenwu—he alone could clearly perceive whether Dao soldiers within a certain radius still bore the blessing, and replenish it in time.

Now the Wu clan's battle aura wavered. Xu Xu Wenwu sensed it instantly, his spirit lifting—he felt as if he held the entire battlefield in his grasp. He slammed two fist-sized bullets into the barrel, stood tall, and prepared to lead the charge.

But suddenly, a retreat bugle blared across the battlefield. Xu Xu Wenwu froze. Seeing his delayed reaction, Xiang Little Wei Yuan above sent a mental command—several Dao soldiers seized Xu Xu Wenwu and carried him flying toward the third line of defense, abandoning the hard-won ground to the Wu clan.

The Wu clan did not rejoice—they were stunned. Wu shamans and nobles turned pale. The strong turned and fled; the weak scrambled for cover. They had now become adept at diving into trenches and pressing tightly against walls to avoid aerial blast shells.

Instantly, an eerie whistling pierced the air, a shrill sound that sent chills down the spines of both men and Wu. But this piercing cry was merely a precursor—the truly terrifying heavy artillery shells made no sound at all.

In an instant, the battlefield surface became a sea of fire. Under the devastating bombardment, anyone below the Dao Foundation level had no chance of survival. Only those who had timely taken cover in trenches survived.

This great battle had now lasted five days. For five days, aside from brief hours of rest, the troops fought nonstop. The Wu clan lost over a hundred thousand corpses daily; Qingming suffered over ten thousand casualties each day. The bulk of casualties on both sides came from heavy artillery and grand spells—direct melee combat accounted for less than a third.

Though the Wu clan appeared utterly at a disadvantage, Xiang Little Wei Yuan knew well: the Wu were draining Qingming's nourishment and heavy artillery shells.

The shells were manageable—he wasn't overly concerned. But nourishment was a major problem. Over half the Wu's sacrificial power was devoted to direct strikes against Qingming. Several grand spells capable of compressing the realm were used repeatedly, and Xiang Little Wei Yuan had no good counter—only the accumulated nourishment of Qingming could bear the brunt.

Xiang Little Wei Yuan continuously lured the Wu army deeper into the defenses, then unleashed a sudden barrage of heavy artillery, followed by troops rushing forward to retake the ground. This back-and-forth, like a meat grinder, relentlessly consumed Wu lives. This tactic was recognized by the Wu on the first day—but they had no solution, forced to use human trenches for cover.

The Wu once tried to utterly destroy human fortifications, only to find the reinforced concrete structures were extraordinarily sturdy and impossibly vast. Wu magic had little effect; only Dao Foundation nobles and strongmen could dismantle them by brute force. But they were lords—why would they do such grunt work?

Moreover, dismantling fortifications on the battlefield was a death sentence.

Humans had two types of indirect-fire shells: noisy and silent. During total assaults, they used the noisy ones; for pinpoint raids and clearing targets, they used the silent ones.

Meanwhile, behind the frontlines, Xiang Little Wei Yuan began constructing the fourth, fifth, and sixth defensive lines. Progress was astonishingly rapid. The Wu watched this, forced to occasionally unleash grand spells against the construction sites to halt further fortifications. But the sites held few personnel, so the casualties from grand spells fell far short of those on the frontlines.

After years apart, the Wu clan and Qingming clashed again. Both sides had learned from the last war and made improvements—but Qingming's changes were far more obvious and swift. Neither side yet had a good counter to the other's ultimate weapons.

Liu Lan's desire for a swift victory collapsed by the third day. The war settled into Xiang Little Wei Yuan's envisioned pattern: a muddy, entrenched conflict in a heavily fortified zone. Xiang Little Wei Yuan steadily traded steel and gunpowder for Wu flesh—and… souls.

The war raged on Qingming's soil. Xiang Little Wei Yuan stubbornly endured the Wu's grand spells, preferring to expend nourishment rather than retreat Qingming's realm. One crucial reason: the souls of the fallen on both sides were drawn into the mortal world's incense and offerings. The Yellow Springs Heaven was growing at an astonishing rate, filled with countless wandering ghosts, so densely packed they could barely turn around.

(End of Chapter)