Chapter 172

Indeed...

When Dantai Xianming saw Li Guanyi appear, charging forward with his battle halberd, he had already deduced this outcome: why he appeared in the Fire Qilin Palace, why he had strategists behind him, why he was connected to the Xue family, and why he sought to kill Chen Dingye's illegitimate son.

All of this was originally scattered.

But when Li Guanyi appeared, Dantai Xianming guessed the final piece of the puzzle and the connection: if this boy was Li Wanli's son, then everything became explainable.

Even so, when the boy spoke it aloud, Dantai Xianming still felt a moment of daze—he instinctively raised his hand and gripped the dark-gold haft of the Tiger Roar Battle Halberd, and in his hazy vision, he saw another boy, long, long ago.

"Mr., hello. My name is Li Wanli."

His grip tightened on the halberd; the faint memory of that boy seemed to merge with the one before him—and the next instant, the divine weapon Tiger Roar Battle Halberd erupted in a low, resonant tiger roar, violently shaking free from Dantai Xianming's grasp.

This halberd is sentient; only those who are upright and heroic may wield it.

Li Guanyi leapt back sharply; the halberd's blade tore away large chunks of flesh. He gripped the divine weapon in his right hand and drew his sword with his left—originally intending to draw the Gold Guard's standard blade—but he hesitated, then pulled out the razor-sharp, bloodless killer: Murong Qiushui Sword.

Behind him, the void trembled; the Crimson Dragon and Bai Hu appeared simultaneously, dragon's roar and tiger's howl rising together.

The poison blood was forced back, rippling outward in concentric waves.

Crimson light flowed along the blade of the sword; dark malevolent energy surged across the halberd.

Li Guanyi unleashed his ultimate killing force.

No second words were needed.

All hatred had been spoken in that single sentence!

Fight to the death!

【Tide Surge】【Mountain Crush】【Peak Sever】!

【Overlord's Ultimate Technique】【Crimson Emperor's Sword Shadow】!

Amidst the dragon's roar and tiger's howl, airwaves tore through the air—slashing throats, piercing hearts, severing acupoints—each strike aimed solely at killing. Finally, the sword and halberd swept through, and Dantai Xianming lost all breath, collapsing heavily into the poison blood pool.

The heartblood of the world's most extraordinary poison, Fei, poured into his body from all directions.

Dantai Xianming's vitality vanished completely.

Li Guanyi had already collapsed from exhaustion.

His shoulders, arms, waist, and hips all throbbed with varying degrees of tearing pain.

One could see the level of force he had exerted.

He could barely hold onto Murong Qiushui Sword and the Tiger Roar Battle Halberd; his palms trembled violently from overexertion. Standing there, the poison blood constantly tried to seep into his body—but these deadly toxins merely penetrated his flesh before being shattered and repelled.

In Li Guanyi's lower abdomen, the newly reformed Golden Core of the Myriad Eons Crimson Moon Indestructible Body.

Emitted layer upon layer of warm flow.

Continuously resisting these deadly toxins.

You corrode one layer of qi and blood, the Golden Core rotates once to replenish it.

Hou Zhongyu could withstand direct frontal attacks from the Fire Qilin's flame—this mysterious divine art, if possessed by an enemy, would make one gnash one's teeth in hatred; now, in his own body, it was his greatest shield. Without this, Li Guanyi himself would have been corroded by the poison, coated in another layer.

He exhausted every skill he knew, reducing Dantai Xianming to a ragged heap, then rushed to check on Yue Pengwu—his hand touched the general, and he nearly recoiled instantly from the searing heat. He stared at the divine general before him.

Yue Pengwu's internal qi and meridians had all shifted; the Fei poison surged through his body like a raging dragon, his heart already beginning to crystallize. The Fei blood poison originated from an ancient beast slain eight hundred years ago by the Crimson Emperor himself, leading his divine generals.

Strictly speaking, this was not poison.

It was the potent transformative power inherent in the blood of ancient beings like Fei—deadly to humans. Yue Pengwu's heart was being continuously eroded and transformed into the state of an ancient beast, a manifestation of calamity.

His vitality was nearly gone.

Yue Pengwu leaned against the wall, the chain-forged spear resting beside him.

Black traces of the poison's passage marred the divine general's face; one could imagine the agony he endured—but his gaze was calm as he looked at Li Guanyi and said:

"Are you the Marshal's son?"

Li Guanyi's Han Shuang Ji returned to its original form, but fine cracks now marred its surface—clearly, even bearing a fraction of the divine weapon's power placed immense strain upon it.

Li Guanyi nodded, crouched slightly, and pressed his fingers to Yue Pengwu's wrist, seeking a way to halt the poison—but Li Guanyi himself had never endured poison of the "heartblood" tier, and secondly, his mother had borne the brunt of it for him.

Sudden heavy footsteps echoed from outside; Li Guanyi gripped his weapons and turned.

In burst Yan Xuanji, following the traces Li Guanyi had left behind.

He understood no arrays, but as a battle-hardened veteran, tracking traces was a skill forged through countless life-and-death struggles—his very livelihood, impossible to forget. He had chased Li Guanyi's trail here, relentlessly.

Drenched in blood, his aura surging, his blood qi rising into white mist—he entered in an instant, saw Yue Pengwu and Li Guanyi, exhaled in relief, then noticed Yue Pengwu's condition, his face paling drastically. He rushed forward, bent down, and supported him, saying:

"This is—this...!"

"Meridians congealed, blood qi dried, heart also..."

The monk's expression shifted repeatedly; finally, even he was left only with dazed, ghastly pallor, silent... This poison had nearly turned the body into crystal. They had fought through everything to reach here—and yet they were too late, just as ten years ago.

Yue Pengwu remained calm, his head resting against the wall, feeling his heart's final beats.

"So it is..."

"Back then, you escaped."

"Good."

Outside, the array echoed with the voices of pursuers. Yan Xuanji gripped his weapon, his tiger-like eyes reddening, turned to face the great array—his gaze filled with killing intent. Gu Dao Hui had paused his pursuit earlier, though he did not know why.

But for a general of Gu Dao Hui's caliber, catching up would be no difficulty.

With inferior numbers, infiltrating the imperial palace against a famed general and master strategist was always a desperate gamble. Now they had found the one they sought to save—but it seemed they were powerless to save him.

"The enemy..."

Yue Pengwu lowered his gaze, then suddenly raised his hand—his palm, back, and arms were all marked with the Fei blood poison. The famed general lifted the crude battle spear, twisted his wrist, and stood before the array's entrance. He smiled faintly and said:

"Then this time, it will be Yue Pengwu who holds the rear."

He turned his back to Li Guanyi and said:

"When I was young, Tai Ping Gong taught me Wu Gong and military strategy. When you were born, I was still pacifying foreign enemies—I thought then I would pass on all his tactics to you, so the flame of knowledge might be passed on, and that would be good. I thought about how I would teach you."

"But then the world grew so chaotic, and I never found you. This turbulent age always forces everyone into corners with no retreat—but nothing matters now—I have seen you."

He whispered, "Then, it is enough."

"The world is always full of partings; sometimes one meeting outweighs ten years."

"They say I will die here, and so will you, but I do not believe it—be brave… charge outward…"

Yue Pengwu gripped his weapon, and Yan Xuanji understood his meaning.

Thus, this mighty general bearing the banner also raised his weapon, standing shoulder to shoulder with the aging commander, barely able to stand, at the very end of his life; they lifted their weapons—spear and dark staff—pointing forward, just as the former Tai Ping Gong, the Regent, had once stood before their successors.

Yue Pengwu seemed to recall something; he reached into his chest, pulled out an object, and placed it in Li Guanyi's hand, smiling as he said, "This is the heart of the Tai Ping Army…"

He raised his hand—it was a cluster of rice stalks, already dried.

But it was this single cluster of rice stalks that ignited the first flame—from General Zhou Lao, to Tai Ping Gong, to Yue Pengwu—the fire burned quietly in the heart of each generation; then Yue Pengwu swung his spear backward, blasting a massive exit open beside the underground chamber.

"Go!"

He shoved Li Guanyi hard on the shoulder, propelling him out.

Yue Pengwu's pupils had lost focus; his vision blurred into haze.

I have grown up now, General, he thought. I can ride the world, fight for my homeland, protect the people, and clear the path for those who come after.

The Golden-winged Great Peng will fall here.

But another flame will rise from where I fall.

Yet he saw the youth being pushed out, taking a few steps, then clenching his fist, suddenly turning back—Li Guanyi had been thinking of ways to save him, but now, there was truly only one final method left.

Only a gamble remains.

Without hesitation, he charged forward in large strides.

The youth drew the Murong Qiushui sword and slashed it across his left palm.

Then he sheathed the blade and, with his right hand, instantly pressed acupoints upon Yue Pengwu's body; the towering man staggered—unprepared for Li Guanyi's move, he now trembled like a candle in the wind.

He channeled his final strike; as he unleashed it, he remained invincible, radiant as the blazing sun—but beyond that strike, he had weakened to this degree, stumbling and collapsing.

Li Guanyi caught him with one hand, raising the other.

Blood infused with the unexhausted power of the Immortal Elixir flowed into Yue Pengwu's mouth—was the ancient calamity-born 【Fei】 stronger, or was 【Longsheng】, the immortality pursued at all costs by generations of sorcerers, superior?

"Hou Zhongyu, Hou Zhongyu, you must prove yourself!"

Li Guanyi pulled out vial after vial from his chest.

These were Hou Zhongyu's treasured medicines; he found healing pills and poured every last one into Yue Pengwu's mouth, dissolving them with his own blood—but Yue Pengwu's vitality still vanished rapidly; the 【Fei】 blood was beyond Hou Zhongyu's power to cure.

If it had been only the earlier effects of the 【Fei】 blood, it might have been resolved.

But to face Dan Tai Xianming, Yue Pengwu had deliberately drawn 【Fei】 blood into his heart meridians, mastering both righteous and evil forces—and thus, the poison had long since spread throughout his entire body; this was the legendary toxin that once shifted the fate of the realm; countless top experts had perished from it, not just him.

Yan Xuanji's expression was grim; Yue Pengwu's eyes drooped slightly—he seemed to see the general of that year; Li Guanyi's face showed a moment of hesitation, a moment of struggle—yes, such hesitation and struggle had truly existed.

But in an instant, it hardened into resolve.

He raised his hand and pressed his palm against Yue Pengwu's lips.

Within him, the Golden Core of the "Ten Thousand Ancient Moons Immortal Elixir" spun several times.

Then—it shattered outright!

The youth's aura scattered like wind; his spirit surged like wind.

Yue Pengwu's blurred vision suddenly stabilized, sharpening for an instant—he saw the hazy general turn around, yet it merged with the youth's face; he saw the 【Fei】 poison's marks reappear on Li Guanyi's face.

The youth grinned, just like the young general who had once dragged him from the fields.

"Those who carry firewood for others must not freeze to death in snow and wind."

"The General's life."

"Li Guanyi bears it!"

This technique, drawn from the martial legend of the Green Robe Guest and the Golden Core theories of the alchemists' Immortal Elixir lineage, unleashed a torrent of vital energy—and Li Guanyi's latent Immortal Elixir power was forced out; Yan Xuanji's expression changed abruptly—he saw the youth's temple hairs stir slightly.

Then, poison marks appeared on his face too; without the Golden Core's resistance, the supreme version of the world's most peculiar poison instantly flooded Li Guanyi's body—the familiar agony returned, yet he did not stop his actions.

Yan Xuanji cried, "Young Master!!"

Yue Pengwu drifted into haze, then darkness swallowed his vision.

He had still been able to fight, still had one final powerful technique to break free; his mind remained clear, blazing like a burning flame—but now he lost consciousness, yet that single wisp of fuel, meant to burn out, had been preserved.

The inevitable collapse of peak decline was interrupted.

Yue Pengwu's vitality ceased leaking; his last spark clung to his heart, sustaining a faint pulse; Li Guanyi's face and body bore dark 【Fei】 poison marks, slowly etching into his bones and blood—the agony made his hands tremble, but he hid them behind his back and said:

"Legends say there is a Green Robe Man who can revive the dead."

"In the Ghost Market, there is the world's greatest physician who can awaken Marshal Yue."

Yan Xuanji stood frozen, lost in thought; the youth withdrew his hand, clenched his fist, and said:

"General Yan, please take Marshal Yue away."

Yan Xuanji blurted out: "What about you?!"

"Me?"

Li Guanyi lifted his weapon, smiling faintly:

"Your fame will draw enough enemies; if you stay with me, I'll only drag you down. Then neither of us escapes. Better to split up—you needn't worry for me, and you can draw off the top experts."

"I'm no martyr."

"Perhaps, we can all walk out alive."

Yan Xuanji stared at the youth: "Your poison…"

"Oh, the 【Fei】 blood? I've been poisoned by it before."

The youth laughed lightly, as if it meant nothing:

"Just a poison."

"Worst case—I fight another ten years!"

"You go first…"

"Don't worry, I won't die."

Yan Xuanji looked at the young man before him, and in a daze, he seemed to see the shadow of another person—same character, same bearing—and as this pilgrim, who had traversed the Eighty Trials of the Buddha, lost himself in thought, he saw the boy turn his head to look at him:

"By the way, there's one more thing, General Yan."

The young man lifted the battle halberd in his hand and stood between Yan Xuanji and Yue Pengwu, whose life clung to a thread, and said softly: "Though I am not my father, he would have said exactly this."

"You are the standard-bearer general."

"So what if I die?"

"As long as your heart does not die, the standard will not fall."

Yan Xuanji's body trembled violently; the boy walked past him, raising Han Shuang Ji, and Yan Xuanji seemed to see not the boy, but the young Tai Ping Gong—his voice mingling with the boy's clear tone.

Li Guanyi halted, planting his halberd into the ground: "A true man repays kindness."

"Ten years ago, you opened a path for me. This time, it's Li Guanyi opening the way for you. But my strength is still weak—perhaps all I can do is this."

"If I survive this, General, you will surely hear my name one day."

Yan Xuanji stared at the boy's back.

Heroes of the world reveal their spirit and courage most clearly in the darkest moments—on this boy, the boldness of the first warrior to stand at the front still burned. Yan Xuanji suddenly grinned.

He reached up, snapped the Buddhist beads from his neck.

Then he knelt halfway, fist clenched, and replied, word by word:

"Your servant, Yan Xuanji."

"I obey my lord's command!"

He raised his head, looking at the boy: "Then, my lord."

"I am going."

Li Guanyi, his back turned, nodded. Yan Xuanji rose, seized his dark weapon, lifted the barely alive Yue Pengwu onto his shoulder, his eyes bloodshot, and charged out from one end of the formation. Li Guanyi exhaled—then his expression changed abruptly.

Li Guanyi's body shook, agony nearly collapsing him to the ground; he braced Han Shuang Ji against the earth. The blood of the Fei had turned to poison. His eyes burned like flames, yet he did not fall—he remained kneeling, pushed himself up with the halberd, and used the Qing Luan bird to suppress the poison.

His face turned pale, but he slapped his own cheeks and cursed:

"Why did you have to be a hero?"

"It hurts like hell!"

Then he laughed loudly: "Too late to regret now!"

"Let it be!"

"Damn it, if I have to fight this poison for another ten years, so be it!"

He turned and slashed at Dan Tai Xianming's vital points several more times, then staggered away in another direction. Before leaving, he walked step by step to the altar where the ancestral tablets of Chen State were enshrined, and after burning a stick of incense, he departed.

………………

After everyone had left, a hand suddenly rose from the poison pool in the underground palace—and Dan Tai Xianming, already dead, stepped out once more, having survived the combined assassinations of a Divine General, lethal poison, and a divine weapon.

Having escaped the first fatal strike—when the divine weapon pierced Dan Tai Xianming's defenses—every subsequent blow from Li Guanyi inflicted a death wound. Yet within Dan Tai Xianming, something slowly circulated.

"The Mountain Marrow grants longevity—true, yet false. At best, it only prolongs suffering."

Dan Tai Xianming held the object Li Guanyi had once seen, and walked slowly away. It had surfaced after his death—the wound where Li Guanyi's halberd had pierced his chest remained open. The Confucian scholar walked out and sat upon the same steps where he had first arrived.

His breath shifted; the blood on his body evaporated clean. He thought:

"Li Wanli's son?"

"Heroes of the world… they just won't stay dead…"

Dan Tai Xianming saw in the boy the light that once ignited a region in chaotic times. He lowered his gaze, dipped his fingers in the blood still oozing from his chest, and wrote on his sleeve after it had dried:

"Killer: Li Guanyi, assassin under Yue Pengwu."

The old man's eyes were calm. With this accusation, he concealed the identity of Tai Ping Gong Li Wanli's son. Then, his hand trembling from poison, he picked up the wine flask that had fallen into the crack, poured himself a cup, stared blankly ahead, and continued his calculations:

"If Tai Ping Gong Li Wanli's son steps into the world, Chen State will collapse."

"This chaos will surpass my original plan—must be guided."

"Yue Pengwu, the Tai Ping Army, heroes of the world… acceptable."

"One state in chaos, Chen fractures; one state grows strong, heroes emerge—the world will stabilize."

"But it's not enough… not enough. Tai Ping Gong Li Wanli's son's identity cannot be exposed yet, nor can he lack achievements. Too early, he dies. Too light, he cannot shake the world's heart—cannot shatter Chen State utterly."

The top-ten strategist of the world smiled faintly. From his sleeve he pulled out an object: a pouch containing a shriveled steamed bun. He rubbed it, then tossed it into the blood pool. With great effort, he lifted the Jin Yu Guard sword Li Guanyi had dropped, gasping for breath.

The old man straightened his robes over the blood pool. Finally, with a flick of his fingers, a qi surged upward—the sword flew into the sky, circled, then fell. Dan Tai Xianming sat there, calm, arrogant, self-assured, raised his cup, and slowly swallowed.

He closed his eyes, and as if he could still see his hometown, crushed decades ago by Chen State's imperial army.

His sister, impaled on a spear; the intestines hung from the city wall.

He whispered the verse: "Merchants gather in silk and splendor, ten families rise with that army's cry."

"Beyond the eastern gate, sorrowful deeds remain—yet we let children fly kites…"

May such scenes never return.

I want, unification of the world!

Li Guanyi, the fame of killing the corrupt chancellor and the great Confucian—I leave it to you. Can you bear it?

With my head as an invitation, I send you into the world—shatter Chen State!

He saw, at last, his own young self in the rain of those days.

The longsword fell.

The wine cup shattered; the white-haired head dropped to the ground.

"Big brother, you're back!?"

The Confucian said—Can the enmity of nine generations still be avenged?

Even after a hundred generations.

Very well.

………………

Within the imperial palace, the Chi Xiao Sword clearly sensed everything here.

The blade's glow flared several times.

Yet it held back due to its promise with Li Guanyi.

Flared, then suppressed.

Flared again.

Then suppressed again!

Finally, as the boy laughed loudly and said, "Then it's settled," the child who had survived only because everyone protected him, now laughed freely, bearing the blood poison himself so others might live, and with a carefree "Fuck it, let's fight another ten years."

The Chi Xiao Sword could no longer endure.

The blade brightened inch by inch.

Then, right between Xiao Wuliang and General Yue Qianfeng, who stood facing each other.

A brilliant sword cry surged into the sky.

Endure, endure, endure—

I can't take it anymore!!!

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