Chapter 177

When Lu Youxian saw the Qilin step forward, the black armor, and the raised battle halberd, he hesitated for an instant—but the next moment, he immediately raised his battle knife, pointing forward: "Advance!!!"

"The Qilin is a mythical beast, long sealed away, and its vital energy was already depleted in the imperial palace battle."

"He is not invincible."

As he had guessed, and as Li Guanyi had said when sending the Qilin to fight Xiao Wuliang, the Qilin now suffered severe depletion of vital energy—its power surely not what it once was—but the final barrier lay just ahead, and the Qilin roared, summoning its last strength.

Li Guanyi's divine weapon erupted with power; in his daze, he truly immersed himself in the final battle mindset of the overlord—the Qilin roared, its fire burning and igniting the rain, transforming it into clusters of golden-red flames rising toward the sky.

The Qilin stamped the ground, and the pooled water instantly evaporated.

The Qilin's armor emitted flowing light, shattering all barriers ahead; arrows rained down, ignited by Qilin fire, and Li Guanyi no longer retreated—the arrows capable of piercing Jin Yu Wei heavy armor like porcupine quills now struck his Tie Futu heavy armor and were simply deflected.

Through the rain curtain, this fortress of ink-black steel charged forward.

Arrows could not draw near; those who stood in their way were crushed. Rain and arrows were shoved aside, forming visible shockwaves. The divine weapon swept through, and every enemy ahead was flung away. Li Guanyi roared: "I am a battle general under Marshal Yue! Hmph, hiding within the Xue family!"

"But that old devil of the Xue family saw through me!"

"I planned to seize the young princess, but you ruined it!"

"Now, Marshal Yue has been rescued—I have no interest in Yicheng. You've ruined my plans again. Those who block me—die!"

Li Guanyi severed his ties with the Xue family.

Hearing this, all were stunned—partly due to the matter of Marshal Yue, partly because this man merely intended to leave—immediately, their will to fight died down several levels. Lu Youxian's cheek twitched slightly.

"Using words to confuse the masses, scattering military morale…"

"Are you truly a general under Marshal Yue—or are you the son of Tai Ping Gong?"

"It doesn't matter anymore."

He thought, then drew his blade and fused it with a long staff engraved with purple-gold phoenix patterns, transforming it into a long-hafted battle knife. Mounted on a beast like a tiger-leopard, he charged toward Li Guanyi: "Then, Marshal Yue's battle general…"

Lu Youxian said: "Come, fight me!"

Just like the attire of Tai Ping Gong in days past—how glorious to battle such a man.

A general's wish.

Blade met halberd; even with the Qilin's might, Li Guanyi nearly lost his grip on the halberd—but in that instant, the Tiger Roar Heaven Halberd unleashed the sharpness and resilience befitting a divine weapon.

Lu Youxian's long-hafted dark weapon was cleanly severed.

The blade fell to the ground, ringing sharply.

Thus, the defenders of Yicheng paled—all believed their commander's weapon had been shattered. The Qilin's energy now flowed continuously, no longer guarding its own vitality, just as it once transmitted power to Tai Ping Gong Li Wanli, now transmitting it to Li Guanyi.

The boy was draped in armor woven from Qilin fire.

A crimson glow rose above the Tie Futu armor; the Qilin roared, and Li Guanyi advanced with it, his halberd sweeping violently—the Sea-Tide Technique reappeared. The Tiger Roar Heaven Halberd tore through the flowing light, its force forming swirling vortices.

Crimson-gold flames surged around Li Guanyi like tidal waves.

Finally, the ruins of the mountain shrine collapsed in thunderous ruin. Li Guanyi spun his halberd backward, channeling the 【Mountain-Crushing】 power, riding the Qilin's overwhelming momentum, and directly slammed into Lu Youxian—Lu Youxian resisted the blow.

But the Qilin's power was too immense—it shattered Lu Youxian's mount outright.

With this shove, Lu Youxian had no choice but to leap off—and in that instant, Li Guanyi surged forward, swinging his halberd relentlessly, crimson-gold Qilin fire clustering around him. Now wielding the Qilin's power, his destructive force was no longer that of a mere Second Heaven cultivator.

Lu Youxian rolled on the ground, the Qilin fire on his armor refusing to extinguish; only by violently suppressing it with his inner energy did he finally quell it—his face was charred black, yet his cold battle intent remained. He remounted his steed.

"A general must be loyal to his homeland and nation."

"Obeying military orders is the foremost principle, comrades!"

Lu Youxian gritted his teeth, his eyes calm: "Surround and kill him!"

"Before I came, I already reported to the court—divine generals are en route, riding flying mythical beasts, racing here at full speed. We only need to hold them off."

Li Guanyi rode the Qilin across the battlefield; the Qilin's energy output was slowly but steadily declining. Having been tormented for ten years and just fought a top-tier divine general ranked fifteenth in the realm, it had reached its limit. Now, like Li Guanyi, it was sustained only by fierce battle intent.

The halberd swung—anyone who stood in its path was flung away.

From above, it looked like a mighty general piercing through the army within the city.

Ahead lay the city gate.

The city walls were extremely thick, lined with soldiers holding arrows extracted directly from the armory—arrows designed to pierce Qi and armor—even massive Mo Family mechanical crossbows, over ten zhang long, legendary war machines capable of hunting mythical beasts.

No matter how sturdy the walls, they would be shattered outright.

Li Guanyi gritted his teeth: "Lu Youxian!"

He finally understood why Xue Lao and General Yue Qianfeng called him "Old Turtle."

Lu Youxian refused to make a single mistake.

Decades ago, tens of thousands of troops failed to crack his lone city.

The opposing commander, enraged, spat blood and cursed him "Old Turtle."

Now, archery units led by junior officers and captains had drawn their bows fully taut—if Li Guanyi leapt into the open air, exposed without shelter, the Mo Family's massive crossbows would fire instantly.

Li Guanyi gripped his halberd.

The Qilin's flames surged violently; the boy's pupils turned crimson-gold, his dark golden faceplate shifting. His left hand released the Qilin's mane, both hands gripping the halberd as he spun it through the air.

Bai Hu, Chi Long, Xuan Gui, Qing Luan, Qilin.

The Five Directional Phantoms converged here.

All-out strike.

Straightforward, righteous—shatter the gate, charge toward the world!

Li Guanyi gripped the halberd; the Tiger Roar Heaven Halberd erupted in a chorus of exultant roars—just as the Chi Xiao Sword had once stirred—this halberd, at last, on this boy, perceived the same grandeur as the past Bai Hu Da Zong.

Lu Youxian's eyes bulged; the Qilin's speed was like lightning and fire.

Every attempt to block it failed.

And the reinforcements had not arrived—this defied Lu Youxian's judgment of the court's divine generals and their flying mythical beasts. Had the force dispatched to aid the four corners been delayed? No—that force would never be involved in the Great Sacrifice or any celebration.

They were loyal to Chen, not the Emperor.

But why hadn't they come?!

Lu Youxian saw his blockade about to be broken; this teenager seemed trained in military strategy—he did not choose to hide or flee within the city, but reversed his thinking and charged straight toward the clearly fatal city gate, seeking life from death.

Why?

Lu Youxian suddenly felt something was wrong: reinforcements had not arrived; earlier reports said the Imperial Guard had been blocked by civilians; civilians had suddenly awakened and spontaneously blocked the roads; the speed of this news spread defied reason…

Including the successes he learned of through communication: General Yue Qianfeng, Yan Xuanji, and others.

Your Majesty, usually calm and suspicious, had never doubted Gu Daohui…

With Your Majesty's divine martial arts, why could he not instantly injure Gu Daohui and then order his subordinates to kill him? Instead, he let him live.

One by one, these events kept rising in Lu Youxian's mind.

Then they pieced together—each seemed like a coincidence.

These were naturally possible events.

But the probability was low; if they all occurred simultaneously, it was utterly impossible—unless…

Someone was pulling the strings behind the scenes.

Calculating all of this.

Lu Youxian suddenly understood. He gripped his weapon and roared:

"Who among the strategists dares plot for the realm?!!"

"Who among the calculators dares place emperors and generals upon the chessboard!!!"

This famed general gripped his weapon, raised his gaze to the sky, and roared:

"Zu Wenyuan!"

Filled with fury, his inner Qi erupted, scattering the rain.

Time seemed to stretch; all things and the world grew utterly silent. Smoke from hearths rose slowly, broken and scattered by the rain; Li Guanyi rode the Fire Qilin at the forefront, his battle spear drawing forth wave after wave of black malevolent energy; to the east, Yan Xuanji, bearing Yue Pengwu, moved through the mountain forests—the anticipated swift response from Chen's mountain troops never materialized.

It was as if this elite corps, while patrolling, had just happened to avoid Yan Xuanji.

So Yan Xuanji gritted his teeth and charged forward, feeling Yue Pengwu's vitality behind him grow increasingly stable.

Severely wounded, General Yue Qianfeng was discovered by Chen's remaining troops; he deliberately drew their attention toward himself, enduring hours of encirclement and slaughter until, exhausted, he tumbled into a cliffside waterfall. The troops searched below but found no body—none knew what to do.

The Sword Immortal of Luzhou…

The many heroes of the Jianghu.

Such things kept happening across countless places.

Chen was a vast empire, a nation so immense that even if, as the Regent claimed, rot had set in, it still possessed elite, valiant warriors, a massive populace, and all manner of foundational systems; it still had officers and generals who upheld principle.

It was still a giant, spanning tens of thousands of li, with hundreds of thousands armored soldiers.

Even in death, it could shake the realm, dragging the western frontier, the Turkic borders, down with it, and bite hard into Yingguo's throat.

A mere handful of men, even divine generals or masters, though capable of slaying hundreds or thousands, would still perish; divine generals were powerful, yet within such armies, skilled warriors were never lacking—ten warriors one level weaker could surround and kill, with thousands more as support.

At the cost of horrific losses—thousands, even tens of thousands, of lives.

They could always drag these divine generals down.

Especially when they were already gravely wounded from battle with Xiao Wuliang—yet even under such conditions, the vast machinery of Chen still turned, like a broken machine, with one after another perfectly reasonable yet impossible coincidences appearing—as if guided by flawless calculation, allowing these men to survive.

Relay riders galloped across great roads, then rose higher; the roads crisscrossed the earth like a grid, dark clouds pressed low, rain fell, plunging the world into gloom—thus the crisscrossing roads of the realm resembled a chessboard.

Pah.

A single chess piece fell gently.

The rain was quiet.

It fell upon the temple floor, serene as if reflecting the sky and sea of clouds; the statue of the Dao Ancestor had its eyes covered with cloth; one by one, the lamps lit upon it burned out their oil and extinguished quietly, leaving only the final lamp still burning.

The white-haired Zu Wenyuan quietly gathered the chess pieces.

Rain fell; someone approached with an umbrella. Beneath it stood the young Daoist Priest Zhuiyue, whom Li Guanyi knew well—but now Zhuiyue's eyes held a cold detachment, a vast emptiness. He was Zhuiyue, yet no longer Zhuiyue.

Zu Wenyuan lifted his gaze, unsurprised: "Elder, you've come."

"Mm."

"Zhuiyue" nodded faintly, stepped forward, and sat across from Zu Wenyuan, his bearing calm and serene: "It's raining."

Zu Wenyuan said gently: "Yes. The first time I met you, I was very young. It was raining just like this. I never imagined that when I saw you again, it would still be this same rain."

"Coming with the rain, leaving with the rain—that is also my path."

"Daoist Priest Elder."

One of the Four Legendary Martial Masters, the Daoist Priest, gazed at the white-haired old Daoist and said: "You plotted for the realm and employed heretical methods. Your heavenly lifespan has been ignited. Today is likely our final meeting."

Zu Wenyuan said: "Elder, are you here to ask whether I solved the riddle you gave me in the pavilion when the rain fell all those years ago?"

"Let us play one final game of chess."

The Daoist Priest's voice was cold: "Those who calculate must remain rational and calm to avoid being swayed. Your move was wrong."

Zu Wenyuan moved the last lamp closer, breathing slightly labored, then took up the black and white pieces. The Daoist Priest remained silent but took up the pieces; Zu Wenyuan also took the white stones. They played in silence, the candle flame flickering in wind and rain.

Finally, the Daoist Priest picked up a piece and asked: "Why did you do this?"

Zu Wenyuan said: "Why?"

The Daoist Priest's tone was flat: "Calculation can only save lives… but saving those few people, you can only act as an external force—like prying open a crack. Whether they survive ultimately depends on a fifty-fifty chance. Your cost, however, can never be reclaimed."

Zu Wenyuan said: "Does saving a life require a reason?"

He lifted a chess piece, his face filled with guilt and regret: "Actually, Elder, the lessons you taught me long ago—I never truly solved them… I wanted to exhaust every truth of the Calculating Scripture. But then someone knocked on my door. I opened it—and saw the world plunged into darkness."

"I saw the people suffering terribly. I saw skeletons lying beside them."

"They cried out. They begged for help. They wished to live."

The old man lifted his chess piece and placed it down, gazing at the Daoist Priest, whispering: "They begged for help—so I reached out. The world is dark—so I will not let those lights here be extinguished."

This game, the old man lost.

Zu Wenyuan reached out, lifted an ant crawling on the table, and placed it gently on the ground.

"The world is pitch black—I am willing to raise a candle as fire."

"Elder, I could never solve that page of the computational classic—but please, look at my life..."

The old man laughed, slowly raising his bronze lamp; the last flicker of candlelight trembled. Above, the great sun turned its wheel. People always said, the Emperor, the Son of Heaven, were like the sun in the sky.

But!

What of the Emperor?

Even if fate is ordained, is it not still human effort?

The old man raised his bronze lamp, blocking that single ray of sunlight. Though he had no cultivation, he spoke—and his spirit surged forth, as if swallowing the great sun whole. The entire world dimmed at once.

The army tracking Yan Xuanji and Yue Qianfeng suddenly lost its sense of direction. The monk roared and galloped forward. This time, the disciples of the Buddhist sect carried Yue Qianfeng and the Jin Chida toward a more distant sky.

Yue Qianfeng was swept by a waterfall into a mountain cave, gravely wounded and unconscious—but he survived, undiscovered by the rest of the Da Chen army.

Li Guanyi charged into battle, and the Five Spirit Phantoms suddenly blurred. The so-called Phantoms were nothing more than the unrelenting, all-consuming wills of mighty heroes, their essence and spirit squeezed dry, rising as blazing flames.

The five Phantoms, drawn from other heroes, suddenly scattered, circling the boy like clouds. He roared in fury and thrust his battle halberd forward—before him stood an impenetrable city gate, forged of special materials.

Li Guanyi abandoned everything, rapidly gathering his essence, spirit, and vigor.

Then, from the clouds swirling around him, a blurred claw reached out—a dragon's claw, yet bearing the talons of a phoenix or hawk, the palm of a Bai Hu.

A low dragon's roar echoed. Within the boy's swirling clouds, scales slithered, glowing gold like the eyes of a Fire Qilin and a Bai Hu.

Faintly visible, the dragon's horns resembled those of a Qilin. It was the Five Spirits converged into one pure Dragon. Li Guanyi roared and thrust his halberd—and in that instant when heaven and earth darkened, he tore open the gates of Yicheng.

In a single instant, the Phantom split again into five.

The boy and the Fire Qilin finally broke free from the sea of soldiers.

His heart suddenly widened.

Toward the world!

Zu Wenmian held the bronze candle, and in his daze, he saw the darkness ahead.

Then he saw silhouette after silhouette. Those who walked at the front had long since passed. He saw Yue Qianfeng, he saw Li Guanyi, he saw Chen Wenmian—saw the backs of countless young people striding forward, determined to tear open this darkness.

The old man stood on this side of the door, holding his candle, watching them stride into the light. His own candle was about to go out—but these young people would keep walking. One day, the world would know peace.

But I will not see it.

Suddenly, he remembered his youth, when he met Daoledao Sect in a pavilion. That night of rain had trapped him for life—but he never solved the mystery of the computational classic. Did he regret it? He turned his head—and as if he could still see his younger self.

His younger self said: "I will calculate everything!"

"I will become the strongest in the computational classic—and surpass you, Elder Daoledao!"

"Did you achieve it?"

The old man laughed. He laughed loudly.

And so, the great rain of his life finally ceased.

The great sun reappeared.

Still magnificent, still in the sky.

Ding!

The bronze lamp fell heavily to the ground. The candlelight flickered once—then the last lamp went out.

Daoledao held a chess piece, frozen, unable to speak, unable to move.

Zu Wenmian's hand fell to the ground, his head drooped, the light in his eyes slowly fading.

Elder, I offer my entire life as a single move—to open one thread of hope for this world.

How?!!