Chapter 214: Smash the Mountain, Shatter the Temple!

His calm words carried an overwhelming, irresistible pressure.

The eight thousand martial artists fell silent; many did not know the horror of this man in blue, only his legends—but legends were merely vague words and oral tales, lacking tangible weight.

Yet this single character 【Mad】 had been expressed with utter completeness.

Wei Tianduo's expression darkened; suddenly he roared: "Murong Longtu, we are of the same era—I have faced your sword before! Today, even if you defeat me, even if you kill me, how dare you order me to kill myself?!"

"How arrogant!"

He swept his sleeve, and boundless turbulent qi surged upward, as if heaven and earth trembled—Li Guanyi and the Fire Qilin were both crushed by pressure; this man's Wu Gong was no fraud—the weather across dozens of li shifted violently, waves churning.

Yin and yang rotated faintly; Li Guanyi looked up and saw within the yin-yang qi the faces of men and women, countless thousands, like a dance of heavenly demons—the sky thundered and lightning cracked; such Wu Gong had transcended mortal bounds.

Two hundred years of internal qi surged vast and majestic; Wei Tianduo flung his sleeve.

A ruler flew out.

Its entire body was filled with yin-yang qi.

Clouds in the sky churned, piling layer upon layer, descending.

Master Siming stroked his beard, pausing slightly: "The Yin-Yang Rotation Ruler—the legendary weapon of the genius who founded the Yin-Yang Rotation Sect, a divine weapon that ascends with its wielder. No wonder this old man still had the courage to threaten Murong Longtu."

Divine weapon?!

Li Guanyi turned to Master Siming.

The old man disliked moving.

So, over the past month, Lei Laomeng and the others finally found the steed Master Siming demanded—Lei Laomeng led the Strange Beasts Corps in a coordinated hunt to capture it; the boy stared at the beast beneath the old man's seat.

If measured by its horns, it stood about one zhang tall.

That is, between three point two and three point three meters.

From head to tail, it was a bit over one zhang—over three meters.

Weighing roughly twelve hundred jin, its head and face were long like a horse's, its horns like a deer's yet different; its hooves broad like a blue ox's, its tail slender and long like a donkey's—Li Guanyi had known the elk in his past life, but never imagined such a creature could grow this large.

Master Siming replied: "He was famed across the land over a hundred years ago; now his internal qi is vast and tyrannical—two hundred years of cultivation, plus this divine weapon—he is truly a formidable foe. Right now, he's charging a technique, and behind him, though eight thousand martial artists aren't an army, they're bolstered by a sect formation."

The old man judged bluntly: "If it were Sword Mad, he'd die from this blow."

Then he shifted tone: "But…"

Before he could speak, the man in blue stood with hands clasped behind his back.

He calmly regarded Wei Tianduo.

Allowing him to unleash his divine weapon, his ultimate technique.

He said: "Guanyi, watch closely—ninefold heaven cultivation, combined with a divine weapon, can alter the weather and qi across dozens of li, summoning divine forms. Few martial artists reach this level in a century. Have your men form a formation and hold firm."

Li Guanyi said: "Yes."

Behind him, the Qilin Army raised shields, forming a massive military momentum to withstand the supreme aura.

This army had been dragged up the mountain by Pang Shuiyun, then arrived under Li Guanyi's command, endured battle, marched here—over a hundred days had passed; the leaves on the mountain had changed color. Now, for the first time, they truly formed their formation—and their first opponent was…

The supreme martial artist of the world.

Murong Longtu's blue robe fluttered slightly.

Then, at the very peak of Wei Tianduo's power, Sword Mad stepped forward.

In an instant, a pale, chilling blade-light flashed—Wei Tianduo pushed his divine weapon to its limit; the vast yin-yang taiji diagram engulfed the eight thousand behind him, as if the sky and earth were covered by the colossal yin-yang fish.

Then, it was cut.

Sliced.

Wei Tianduo's internal qi scattered.

Then, his arm holding the divine weapon flew into the sky—the activated weapon spun and tumbled over the cliff, blood splattered everywhere.

Master Siming murmured: "But who, facing Murong Longtu, could still activate a divine weapon?"

The man in blue raised his right hand, two fingers pressing against Wei Tianduo's third eye.

The old man's blue robe flared wildly, his brow serene.

Wei Tianduo's pupils filled with terror.

Sword Mad twisted his wrist slightly and thrust forward in empty air.

Boundless sword qi surged upward, piercing straight through Wei Tianduo's third eye, roaring forward—the ground shattered, a deafening boom echoed; the palace ahead and the mountain gate split open—eight thousand martial artists felt the earth tremble beneath their feet, unable to stand.

Sword Mad stood calmly at the very front, gazing at the mountain gate, and said:

"Ninefold heaven—took a bit of effort."

"Still took two strikes."

He looked up at the sky, where layered, vast clouds churned and rotated with tyrannical force—the lingering remnants of Wei Tianduo's ultimate technique.

Sword Mad casually reached out; a warrior's waist-sword whistled, flying into the sky.

The colossal yin-yang taiji diagram in the sky across dozens of li began collapsing outward from its center, returning to its original clear sky—the dust and autumn rain were swept clean; Sword Mad flicked his wrist, returning the sword to its sheath.

Qing!

It seemed the sword's chime triggered something.

Then a massive tremor—the warriors looked down and turned pale: a fissure had already stretched infinitely backward from where Wei Tianduo had stood—narrow, yet impossibly deep, bottomless.

The entire mountain had been split down the middle by Sword Mad!

Clatter-clatter—the sound was crisp and clear.

All eight thousand martial artists dropped their weapons, the clatter unceasing; the old man walked forward; the young general dismounted and walked beside Sword Mad, who said coolly: "Did you see, Guanyi?"

The Yin-Yang Rotation Sect warriors turned pale.

The aged swordsman's blue robe stirred slightly, his white hair hanging down; he said softly:

"This… is the view from the pinnacle of the world."

The mighty Yin-Yang Rotation Sect, a top-tier force in the martial world, lost all will to fight after Wei Tianduo's violent death—eight thousand men dropped their weapons and surrendered; Generals Ling Pingyang, mounted on armored warhorses, could even climb mountains.

Behind them, a crimson banner flew as the Qilin Army, clad in ink-black armor, stepped onto this mountain.

Ink-black armor, ink-black helms—merely full-body equipment of a second-line unit, yet still sufficiently refined.

After the battle with Yuwen Tianxian, they marched for another two months.

Their armor was no longer pristine; from suppressing bandits, forced marches, and slaying fierce beasts of the mountains, countless scratches marred the plates, losing their once-gleaming perfection—but in doing so, they gained a grim, frost-laced severity forged by wind and time.

Thousands of soldiers, two thousand eight hundred of them frontline combat troops, all clad in heavy armor, radiating grim intensity.

Each held sword or crossbow, all maintaining combat readiness.

Behind them, monstrous beasts bore heavy mechanical crossbows, advancing in formation; five hundred first-line armored cavalry raised their lances and galloped up the Dengshan steps, their armored warhorses' hooves crashing with terrifying thunder.

Generals Ling Pingyang led the iron cavalry to form a line directly at the mountain gate.

All were Second Heaven cultivators—five hundred in total, clad in armored battle gear, their heavy lances raised, leveled; Jianghuda Sect cultivators gathered there, gazing outward, seeing only the crimson banners rolling and the ink-black armor gleaming with a chilling, icy aura beneath the autumn sun.

Lances leveled like a forest of sharp blades, cold and menacing.

The fierce soldiers of the Military School, arrayed in formation, crushed the Jianghuda Sect cultivators under an overwhelming war aura, the thunderous roar of the battle array echoing as the crimson banner unfurled—and the young general, Xu Xing, clad in armor, marched forward, utterly shattering the spirit of this Jianghuda Sect.

The first battle of iron hooves trampling the Jianghu: guarded by Jiankuang, they achieved victory in an unimaginable way; the Qilin Army soldiers now knew what true supremacy in the world meant, and what the pinnacle of the Jianghu truly was.

A faint pride rose in their hearts.

But it was cut down by Jiankuang's single sword stroke—thus, the restlessness, arrogance, and all the inevitable psychological flaws of veteran troops were severed.

The remaining sect master and nine elders of the sect all wished to flee.

But after witnessing Jiankuang's Wu Gong, they trembled, too terrified to escape; over eight thousand disciples of the Yin-Yang Wheel Turn Sect were surrounded and suppressed by Li Guanyi's Qilin Army; although Yuwen Tianxian remained a prisoner, his manifestation was controlled by Master Siming, and moreover, the entire Qilin Army's battle formations had been personally guided by him.

Yuwen Tianxian enjoyed considerable freedom.

Yet as he watched the Qilin Army capture this sect,

They did not, as ordinary victorious armies would, begin looting—only set up camp as if it were natural.

The Military School's manuals and Juan Sect records contained no such training methods; Yuwen Tianxian, who mastered all troop types and all formations, wanted to say this approach violated protocol and contradicted past experience—but his own battlefield experience told him this method might forge a terrifying army.

He was the most fundamentally solid general, with exceptionally high all-around cultivation.

Thus, he saw more.

While he remained silent, he saw the young general sprinting over, his eyes lighting up upon seeing him: "General Yuwen, ah, you're here too, Yuwen Hua."

Yuwen Hua's temple twitched.

Looking at the radiant smile of the young general, he felt a surge of suppressed rage.

Li Guanyi said: "General Yuwen, there are too many matters concerning the Yin-Yang Wheel Turn Sect. Master Pang isn't here. Though Changsun, Ling Pingyang, and Auntie are present, sorting logistics, searching Juan Sect records, and determining guilt—there's simply too much."

"You are a peerless general. I beg your assistance."

Yuwen Tianxian frowned slightly and shook his head:

"When the enlightened sovereign emerges, all things follow the season, pacifying the four directions, enforcing law and wielding authority, punishing crimes and instituting penalties, rewarding merit and bestowing honors. Reward one meritorious act, and ten thousand rejoice; punish one crime, and ten thousand become cautious; reward without favoritism, punish without bias—this is the law of state and army, the power of life and death."

"I am a defeated general. I cannot undertake such great matters."

Li Guanyi said bluntly: "We don't have enough people!"

He reached out, lifted Yuwen Tianxian—who had his internal Qi, Wu Gong, and manifestation suppressed—and slung him over his shoulder, turning to walk away; seeing Yuwen Hua standing there rigidly, he said: "Huh? You're still here?"

Yuwen Hua's forehead veins bulged with anger: "I also understand writing, law, and criminal codes!"

Li Guanyi thought for a moment: "Then come along too."

Yuwen Hua sneered.

Instantly, he wanted to slap himself.

I! I am a scion of a noble family! Why must I do this work among these mud-stained peasants?

It wasn't that Li Guanyi wanted to use these men—it was simply that the tasks were too varied. Marching and fighting were hard, but after seizing a stronghold, how to reward merit, enforce law, handle these cultivators, restructure battle arrays, manage rewards and punishments, harvest gains, and raise strength…

Li Guanyi stared at the Juan Sect records piled so high they filled an entire room.

His scalp prickled.

He felt he was nothing but a warrior.

Pojun, Old Pang!

Where are you two?!

We need a strategist, a counselor, logistics, criminal law, strategic planning, a deployer, a quartermaster, a supply officer… At this moment, Li Guanyi suddenly realized his group was truly unschooled.

We lack talent! We lack talent!

Li Guanyi now wished he could split himself in two.

Lei Laomeng and others had been forced into service; their first task was to verify the Juan Sect records and confirm that the nine elders and the sect master were all guilty of countless blood debts—involved in crafting human-blood pills to pursue immortality.

Lei Laomeng trained fifteen wolves to scent the odor of bones.

They found bone pits within the sect's Mystical Realm.

Lei Laomeng, eyes red, seized a knife and rushed toward the prisoner camp to kill—only to be held back, screaming in fury.

Thus, the sect master and nine elders of the Yin-Yang Wheel Turn Sect—

All cultivators of the Sixth and Seventh Heaven realms were seized by the Qilin Army. The sect master, pale-faced, cried out: "Wait! Wait! You intend to conquer the realm, correct? Spare my life! I am a Seventh Heaven martial cultivator—I'll serve you!"

"I know my crimes are unforgivable, but the Supreme Elder forced me! We were innocent! Let me redeem myself through service—I'll don armor, take up blade, and charge at the front!"

The Qilin Army soldiers fell silent; they understood the significance of such cultivators in battle. Ling Pingyang looked at Li Guanyi, who nodded to Lei Laomeng to read the charges. The sect master turned deathly pale—he felt a chilling killing intent lock onto him.

Li Guanyi drew his blade and strode forward, the edge pressing against the beauty's neck.

The sect master cried: "General! I am of great use!"

"Let me redeem myself!"

Li Guanyi raised his longsword and slashed down—its edge caught on the neck; after all, this was a high-level Jianghu cultivator, with secret techniques—even under Master Siming's control, he could not be easily killed.

Li Guanyi lifted his right foot and stomped directly onto the sect master's spine.

His internal Qi surged violently, his entire aura converging.

The head of the Yin-Yang Wheel Turn Sect's leader was slowly chopped off, blood pooling across the ground.

He said: "Go below and atone for your sins."

A grim, bloody aura spread out; the remaining eight thousand disciples of the Yin-Yang Wheel Turn Sect watched as their sect leader and elders were declared guilty and beheaded, then the executions proceeded layer by layer downward.

Burn their Juan Sect records, execute their high-ranking members.

The innocent, those unaware of the truth of the Blood Pills, may live.

Contrary to Generals Ling Pingyang's expectations, Li Guanyi did not absorb them all into his army; instead, he issued an edict forbidding them from wrongdoing, took provisions from the Yin-Yang Wheel Turn Sect's treasury, distributed them all equally, and allowed these martial artists to leave.

All Blood Pills and blood-refining methods were gathered together; before all Yin-Yang Wheel Turn Sect disciples, Li Guanyi burned them completely, and then those disciples who knew nothing of the Blood Pill arts turned pale as they saw the young general raise his sword and cleave the sect's gate plaque into shards.

"You are not the primary offenders; you were unaware of the truth. After descending the mountain, do not commit evil."

"And absolutely do not act under the name of the Yin-Yang Wheel Turn Sect. Anyone who violates this shall meet the same fate as this plaque!"

He raised his sword and said: "Go."

These martial artists who still lived turned ashen-faced; most did not wish to remain here. Seeing how this young general acted—seemingly brutal, yet never taking their lives—they descended the mountain in groups.

After handling official documents, General Yuwen emerged from the room and saw this scene.

He frowned and asked a nearby soldier: "What's going on?"

The Fire Qilin Army recounted the general situation.

General Yuwen's brow tightened as he went to question Li Guanyi; when he burst in, the youth was examining the Yin-Yang Wheel Turn Sect's Juan Sect records, searching for any hidden evil martial arts texts. General Yuwen strode forward and said sternly: "Why not keep them?"

This famed general frowned and said: "According to the School of War's Juan Sect records, these men can become prisoners of war; at the very least, they can join the Death Corps, charging at the front with spears to resist heavy cavalry charges. If they surrender, they can become foot soldiers, bolstering our forces."

"At the very least, they can serve as logistical laborers; after entering the Eighteen Southern Provinces, they can become able-bodied laborers. Thousands of martial artists with internal energy, given minimal training, can become second-tier battalions."

"You let this power walk away—aren't you foolish?!"

General Yuwen couldn't help cursing.

Li Guanyi answered honestly:

"Didn't I give them a choice? Most just didn't want to stay with us."

General Yuwen said: "Over eight thousand people. After killing the high-ranking ones, over seven thousand base disciples remained who had not committed evil—all with deep internal qi or already entered the realm. Yet only a few hundred chose to stay."

"Why?"

Li Guanyi thought a moment and said: "They're different from you. We came here to cause trouble. Forcing them to stay is no different from conscripting peasants. I only want to bring these people back to the Eighteen Southern Provinces."

"If I drag these people in, I become just like you."

"General, if the School of War is a blade, is it better for the blade to be pure and sharp like steel—or for the blade's width to be broad?"

General Yuwen seemed to grasp something: "…You want to keep those who share your ideals."

Li Guanyi smirked slightly: "I just don't want to force people."

"You're overthinking."

General Yuwen finished his tea and left, silently pondering. Many had left, but a small group remained—mostly pharmacists and alchemists who handled only basic pill-making, never taught the core secret of blood-pill refinement.

Yet they were tasked with refining many auxiliary materials for blood-pill production.

They possessed solid foundations and vast collections of pill formulas.

Shi Lao's eyes turned red; he dragged these alchemists, who now knew what they'd done, back to the encampment, displayed various pills, and racked his brain to keep them.

"What? You think you've committed sins and want to return home as a Physician to atone?"

"How convenient—we need Physicians too!"

"You say you don't want to touch bloodshed anymore?"

"Relax, relax—we don't go to the front lines."

"What? You need quotas for pills? Low-rank disciples can't use those herbs? You must spend five hours a month refining pills, hand in sufficient quantities, or face punishment—whipping?!"

Shi Dalin found his opening; he took these Physicians to the storage vault:

"Look!"

"A hundred-year Dragon's Blood Ginseng!"

"Three-hundred-year mountain Lingzhi, and this herb—we use it by the catty!"

"The boss is good—he doesn't withhold our supplies. He allows us to waste—uh, I mean, to experiment with herbs. You can refine as many pills as you want. Want to rest? Rest."

"No quotas. You refine whatever you love!"

"And we get military pay!"

"You can even ask Lei Laomeng for extra rations!"

"Let me tell you—the Fire Qilin Army boys adore us."

The alchemists were deeply tempted.

Meanwhile, Lei Laomeng found the Yin-Yang Wheel Turn Sect's logistics staff—those handling supplies and meals. He blocked their door with fifteen bears and thirty wolves, then sat there, his four senior brothers posing behind him.

Lei Laomeng inhaled deeply the tea's fragrance and said: "Brother, we're all old hands."

"One word: stability. Join us. You've spent twenty years just cooking meat and securing grain, your Wu Gong's mediocre—how many have you seen? Oh… Second Heaven… Huh?!"

"Second Heaven?!"

Lei Laomeng smirked: "The sect's gone. You've nowhere to go. Come with me—food, rare delicacies, everything you want. And the Fire Qilin Army veterans respect us!"

Fan Qing sought out the martially strong and began trying to persuade them…

Without dedicated recruiters or skilled orators, these roughnecks had to handle it themselves.

Li Guanyi finally breathed a little easier. The critical matters were settled; the inventory, document review, legal proceedings, and pursuit of masterminds and murderers—all far harder than training or fighting—could wait.

Li Guanyi felt his forehead throbbing.

"Po Jun, Po Jun—when will you return?"

"I can barely manage these few thousand, but after this, I feel more will come. I can't hold it all alone."

Returning to his room, he saw an object on the table: a ruler.

The Green Robe Sword Madman personally brought back this ruler.

The ruler was neither gold nor jade, emitting a divine aura of yin-yang transformation, profoundly mysterious.

Divine weapon!

【Yin-Yang Cycle Ruler】!

Inside Li Guanyi, the bronze tripod finally responded, letting out a violent howl.

At the same time—

Changsun Wuchou's letter passed through many hands, finally reaching Ying Country, and was delivered with utmost security to the hands of Po Jun, who was then at the imperial villa, the refined strategist having just returned from the fluttering company of noble young ladies.

He sighed: "I wonder when I'll return to my lord's side."

"This place is truly dull."

Especially since he had discovered it.

Li Guanyi's first battle did not belong to him!

Especially since Bai Mao was surely by his lord's side.

The young strategist gnashed his teeth in fury, wishing he could kill his way back; as he brooded, he noticed a letter on the table, opened it casually, and froze: "My lord's letter?"

Po Jun beamed: "My lord truly remembers me!"

"Let me see what my lord wrote!"