Chapter 406: One More Name Added to the Legend of Martial Ways, One Less

Yu Langwang Chen Fubi was surrounded outside the capital of Ying State; on that day, after the two kings faced each other, Jiang Wanxiang merely coldly said: "Then, let the Divine Wu Wang use whatever methods he has."

Then he turned and walked away with large strides.

He personally oversaw the city's protective national array; though a magnanimous lord unwilling to waste the people's lives to exhaust Yu Langwang, unwilling to dim the heroic spirit within his chest, he would never be foolish enough to open the gates and fight Yu Langwang outside.

Within the capital, all usable military resources had already been deployed.

The standing garrison, the Yamen Runners from the prefectural offices, and even Jiang Wanxiang had summoned the Imperial Guard from the palace—now, the Ying State palace stood at its weakest defensive state in decades.

Everyone was terrified, fighting desperately, determined to die alongside Yu Langwang.

All longed to hold out until reinforcements from other commanderies and cities arrived.

Yu Langwang had advanced alone deep into enemy territory.

Even a divine general would have been forced to retreat under a tenfold numerical disadvantage, let alone him; yet contrary to everyone's expectations, Yu Langwang's forces prepared for siege—constructing siege engines, seemingly ready to attack at any moment—but did not begin.

Thus the situation became like a sword hanging above the brow.

Everyone knew the sword would come down.

But no one knew when.

That relentless oppressive pressure continued to linger, casting a shadow over the hearts of the city's people; meanwhile, Yu Langwang merely drank, sang loudly, strummed his sword in the wind, and when in high spirits, led a dozen cavalrymen to ride boldly before the city walls.

One bow, one quiver of arrows—and a city defender would be pierced through throat or brow, collapsing dead, as if the King of Hell had named him.

Knowing an attack was coming, but not when.

Knowing Yu Langwang would come, but not who would die.

This persistent uncertainty terrified far more than actual assault, weaving into thick clouds that hung over everyone's heads, leaving the city's people restless day after day.

On this day, Yu Langwang returned from hunting, tossed his bow and arrows aside, dismounted, seized a teapot, and drank deeply; yet the old Monk was nowhere to be seen in his camp.

Only his strategist, Dongfang Chen, remained; Yu Langwang stretched his body, gazed at the distant city, fell into thought for a moment, then smiled: "Our time is probably running short, Mr."

Dongfang Chen replied: "This is still within Ying State's borders; Ying State's strength is formidable. Even if all factions are at war, when the capital is threatened, other cities will still mobilize armies without hesitation."

"Now, aid arrives from all directions—various city lords, their disparate armies—numbers likely exceed ours by several times, even tenfold. When their forces encircle us, we truly won't have a single soul escape alive."

This strategist of Yu Langwang spoke these words with a smile, yet showed no fear.

In this chaotic world, there are two kinds of men.

One lives to keep living.

One lives to die gloriously one day.

Dongfang Chen belonged to the second kind; Yu Langwang held his palm over the fire and asked: "In these days, Mr., what do you think of this city?"

Dongfang Chen answered: "The great cities of the world are magnificent; though inferior to Zhenxi City, Xiyicheng, and Lu Youxian's newly built fortress—none have the double inner-outer gates and city towers on all sides—they are still extremely difficult to breach."

"The Mo Family's Xia Mo branch's mechanical arts and the Military School's defensive arrangements are both exceptionally solid; the city's population is large, and grain supplies are sufficient."

"To break through Ying State's capital and Chen State's Jiangzhou City—if neither nation's strength has been shattered—you'd need at least several hundred thousand troops, besieging for months."

"The finest siege tactic is to cut off all supply lines and intelligence, starving the city of water and food; then deploy spies to turn the people, noble families, officials, and court against each other, igniting mutual hatred."

"At that moment, open a gap and accept those who surrender and leave."

"Then, no matter how mighty the city or fortress, it will collapse without a single assault."

"Alas, we are a lone force deep inside enemy territory; first, we never captured the cities along the way, and second, we lack the time to besiege this city for months. If we launch a direct assault, we cannot take it; at this point, failing to breach the walls while being encircled from behind is the norm."

Yu Langwang Chen Fubi laughed: "Indeed, it's like seeking death."

"But I never intended to use my remaining ten thousand troops to clash directly with Jiang Wanxiang and defeat him; alas, alas—I said his life is like a candle in the wind, trembling and ready to gutter…"

"But aren't we the same?"

Yu Langwang cupped his palm over the flame, fell silent, then suddenly said:

"Mr., you understand physiognomy. When you saw Jiang Wanxiang ascend the city walls before…"

"How much longer do you think he has to live?"

Dongfang Chen answered: "Ten years."

Yu Langwang Chen Fubi sighed: "Yes, though aged, he relies on the world's prestige and countless miraculous pills from the Imperial Physicians—he still has ten years left."

"Ten years!"

"If we launch a direct assault and Jiang Wanxiang wins once, his tension eases, his vital energy won't suffer greatly—that would be a great failure."

"Our strategy from the start was never to kill him, but to exhaust him."

"Today, I intend to attack without attacking, to wage war without waging war."

"Ten thousand troops cannot breach this city—but thus, we become a sword, pointed straight at Jiang Wanxiang's brow. They say a hero or sovereign controls his emotions."

"But controlling emotions means all feelings remain inside, never spoken to others."

"Worry, anxiety, vigilance, resentment—all these emotions."

"And with our siege and targeted killings, the entire city's populace undergoes change; he bears countless emotional pressures, yet must personally decide on major affairs."

"Aged, burdened, troubled."

"Do you think, after this war, how many years will he have left?"

Yu Langwang's armored hand clenched tightly, extinguishing the fire with his qi; his lead-gray pupils grew still, and he answered himself: "I hope I can at least cut his life in half."

"Mistakes happen in haste."

"Mistakes cause chaos; who in the world doesn't make them?"

"But in this chaotic age, countless heroes abound—someone will surely seize the moment of his error."

"Jiang Wanxiang's grand strategy to conquer and pacify the world must have been planned according to his lifespan—not ten years, but at least eight. If he lives past these years, he will grow desperate."

"The later it gets, the more desperate he becomes."

"His lifelong goal of conquest is about to fail—how could he not regret? How could he accept it? He will make fatal choices between life, death, and resentment—until that day."

"That is where our sword today will finally fall."

"Between life and death, I ask you, Mr., and all of you, to follow me down."

Dongfang Chen rose and bowed, saying softly, "How could I refuse?"

On his handsome face lingered a trace of pride as he stroked a few strands of long beard.

"It is time to go down and join Master Zhuge for a game of weiqi, so the world may know this war—not only does it carry Tai Ping Gong's lifelong aspiration, but also my lord Wu Wang's heroic spirit."

Yu Langwang replied: "It is your heroic spirit."

After Yu Langwang encircled Ducheng for two days, the armies from all factions had drawn near, yet due to his fearsome reputation, even the lords of major cities dared not launch an attack—only blocking the surrounding roads.

At the core stood Yu Langwang's single force, with the nation of Ying before it.

Around it, armies from all directions had gathered.

Yet now the strategy differed: some were determined to overwhelm him at once, using their numbers—several times, even ten times greater than Yu Langwang's—to crush him by sheer weight.

One spit each, and they could drown him.

But others felt that while the troops mobilized from the major cities were numerous,

they were merely numerous.

To counter Yu Langwang, one needed sufficient renowned generals, second-tier border troops, and massive military force—all three conditions must be met simultaneously.

At present, there were no renowned generals.

As for the troops, most of the allied forces were elite garrison soldiers from their respective cities.

Though not outright rabble, these soldiers—accustomed to guarding city walls, occasionally accompanying Captains to suppress peasant uprisings or rout mountain bandits—were in no way qualified to face off against Yu Langwang's final army.

Moreover, not only was their quality poor, but their numbers were enormous; without a strong general to command them, they became a chaos of their own. If they charged recklessly, Yu Langwang would turn and strike—a sudden countercharge by his elite troops, finding a gap, smashing outward with all their might.

They would likely break through with several thousand men still intact.

Allowing Yu Langwang's lone army to penetrate deep, smashing city after city, reaching the very gates of Ducheng, was already a catastrophic defeat that would stain history for ten thousand years; if the allied forces then encircled him only to be pierced through again, and he rode back and forth multiple times,

Ying's situation would grow even worse.

Previously, it had been like a dagger plunged into the abdomen—still salvageable.

But if Yu Langwang struck again and again, it would be like a dagger stabbed into the belly, then repeatedly withdrawn and thrust back in, churning and shredding the internal organs—so thoroughly that even a god would say he died with perfect efficiency.

Then these generals and city lords might as well kill themselves to atone.

When future generations speak of Yu Langwang's legendary lone campaign, they will also speak of these armies, marched like dogs—Yu Langwang's glory grows, their infamy deepens.

They could not bear this eternal disgrace.

It was an insult to their ancestors.

One general, growing impatient, cursed: "But if we neither attack nor retreat, what if His Majesty holds us accountable for negligence? Will that not be disastrous?"

Another replied: "And what if we suffer a crushing defeat?"

"Who will take responsibility?"

The general hesitated, not saying he would shoulder the blame, only roared:

"Then tell me—what should we do!"

The scholar answered: "In my view, the best course is to strike while Yu Langwang is attacking the city—launch a full-scale assault, as the Art of War says: 'Strike the enemy mid-river, before half have crossed.' Then Yu Langwang will have no chance to flee."

The earlier speaker sneered: "But what if he never attacks the city?"

"Then we just wait and waste time with him?"

"Yu Langwang's army camps outside, their battle aura and his sharpness disturb the Son of Heaven's sacred health—what then?"

The scholar fell silent, hesitant, unable to answer.

Jiang Wanxiang was old; though he wielded immense power through the Son of Heaven's Divine Art, his own Wu Gong realm could not compare to the pure, enduring qi of martial masters or the Three Teachings.

All renowned generals were outside, all elite troops absent; the Second Prince Jiang Yuan, leading his army against He Ruo Qinhu, exchanged over ten thousand casualties with Yu Langwang, paying nearly double the cost himself.

This lone army of Yu Langwang, marching toward certain destruction, had erupted with terrifying morale.

The final army that faced Yu Langwang nearly collapsed; even Jiang Yuan, caught in the battlefield's chaos, fainted and had not yet awakened, while He Ruo Qinhu suffered another defeat at Yu Langwang's hands.

The old wolf had come solely to kill—he had pierced He Ruo Qinhu's chest and abdomen with multiple transparent wounds; furious and unable to continue fighting, he was withdrawn under protection by several young generals of the He Ruo clan.

As a cost, those outstanding young generals of Ying were

each cut down by Yu Langwang.

Only one, a thirty-something general who had made the Renowned Generals List, escaped with his life.

But he had lost his right arm—his career as a battlefield commander was effectively over. After waking, He Ruo Qinhu, enraged and overcome with fury, spat blood and screamed he would fight Yu Langwang to the death—but he was powerless.

As the generals fell silent, unsure what to do—or rather—

the conflict between Ying's noble families and its military commanders came to a head.

Perhaps all could see what must be done, yet no one dared step forward to bear the immense responsibility of this crisis—and so they remained locked in stalemate, when a report arrived:

Grand Tutor Jiang Su had returned to the battlefield.

The generals' expressions eased slightly; they exchanged glances, all unconsciously exhaling in relief.

Then they went to greet the Grand Tutor. Sometimes news travels fastest: all had heard, at least in part, of Jiang Su's defeat in the Western Regions, and none dared mention it, fearing to offend the Grand Tutor.

Jiang Su was not shaken by his Western Regions defeat; he simply asked:

"How many men?"

One general answered: "Approximately one hundred thousand."

Jiang Su asked: "How many troops does Yu Langwang have?"

The generals replied: "After capturing cities and fighting the Second Prince, he now has barely over ten thousand left—but all are fierce, elite warriors."

An elderly general familiar with Jiang Su felt a chill—he suddenly recalled the arrogance of this three-hundred-year undefeated military god, and feared the god would choose to lead an equal force of reserves against the now unstoppable Yu Langwang.

Given this god's pride, he could indeed do such a thing.

Yet these troops' quality differed greatly from Chen Fubian's army.

Before the old general could warn him, the military god Jiang Su spoke calmly: "Transmit my order to all units: lead one hundred thousand troops, advance as one overwhelming force, and with my tenfold strength, crush Chen Fubian."

The old general froze. Seeing Jiang Su's calm expression, his eyes stern yet unspokenly commanding, he noticed the faint arrogance and haughtiness of old had vanished—caution and resolve, the true essence of a military commander, had returned to him after this defeat.

A shift in mindset, like a sharp sword, was re-sharpened to its edge.

The General's 【Shen】 vanished in that battle.

What returned was a commander, solely seeking victory upon the battlefield.

The old general bowed deeply and said, "Yes, I humbly obey the Grand Master's command." He turned and left, sensing the oppressive aura behind him grow still; as he reviewed the battle reports, the old general could scarcely believe it, whispering:

"... After such a defeat, can the Grand Master still continue to transform?"

All great heroes of the world undergo constant change.

Not stagnating forever in the same state, as the Divine General Jiang Su had remained undefeated for three hundred years—now, after this great defeat, his heart had become sharp once more, returning to its fierce state.

The battle spirit of a lion fighting a rabbit, giving all its strength, returned to this aged body.

And the faint, hidden joy of discovering there still existed opponents worthy of him.

The old general sighed.

This defeat, paradoxically, had mended the one weakness the Grand Master had never truly possessed.

After the first time a superior army had defeated the arrogant Divine General, the second appearance was that of the full-strength First Divine General of the Ying State.

He dared not imagine how the future battlefield would become.

The changes of these past years had been more violent than any he had endured in his entire life.

Perhaps, he was growing old.

That day, the Grand Master Jiang Su finally arrived in the state; Yu Langwang had already besieged the city for days, and then the Grand Master Jiang Su led an army of one hundred thousand—though their quality was far inferior to Yu Langwang's troops, the tenfold numerical advantage resembled the campaign led by Li Guanyi in the Western Regions.

Yu Langwang Chen Fubì knew of this change, yet laughed out in delight:

"Jiang Su returned alone?"

"Hahaha, though I know nothing of the battlefield in the Western Regions, it seems Li Wanli's boy dealt him a heavy blow—hahaha, excellent, excellent!"

Dongfang Chen said: "Then it is time for the final stratagem."

Chen Fubì laughed: "Good!"

The news of Jiang Su's return spread at top speed to the capital of the Ying State; for days on end, Jiang Wanxiang, clad in armor, stood guard day and night, appearing thrice daily upon the walls to rally morale, now felt an unstoppable sigh of relief.

"Good..."

"The Grand Master has returned."

Jiang Su was like the central pillar holding up the entire Ying State; his presence alone brought peace, let alone now, after his heart had been purified, leading one hundred thousand troops directly into formation—the Divine General Jiang Su—Jiang Wanxiang closed his eyes, joy swelling within him.

Perhaps due to age, his tightly wound spirit, upon suddenly relaxing, brought a dizzying sensation; he had to sit beside his desk, breathe several times, before steadying his mind.

Strange, strange.

His heart's beat had not quickened, yet somehow felt especially heavy.

Jiang Wanxiang whispered:

"After tension, joy in the spirit... is also a wound..."

At that moment, someone rushed in loudly: "Your Majesty! Your Majesty!"

Jiang Wanxiang said: "What is the emergency?"

The Captain knelt on the ground, head bowed, voice trembling as he shouted: "Chen Fubì! Chen Fubì! He's attacking the city!"

"What!!!"

Jiang Wanxiang's heart froze; he leapt to his feet.

After tension came great joy.

After great joy, comes great disaster!

As he rose, his vision darkened instantly; he nearly collapsed backward, but braced himself with his sword against the palace floor, holding his body upright—after several breaths, the blackness slowly receded.

Surrounding Captains and officials rushed forward in concern; Jiang Wanxiang raised a hand to stop them and said:

"I am unharmed!"

"Quickly prepare the city defenses—stop Chen Fubì!"

"He has only ten thousand men, but his killing intent surges now—do not let him enter and harm our people!"

"Yes!"

Yu Langwang's assault on the city saw ten thousand troops converge, charging forward—yet no siege weapons were used; the fierce aura of these ten thousand elite warriors coalesced into one body. Yu Langwang lifted his gaze, gripping his weapon.

Seeing the fearful eyes of the defenders upon the walls, he smiled faintly.

His heart beat rapidly; he closed his eyes slightly, and all external conditions vanished—as if heaven and earth held only his body, then his meridians, acupoints, and spirit awakened layer by layer.

This body was already nearing its end.

Walking through the world like decaying wood—Jiang Wanxiang was ancient, and so was he; yet some, as they age, cling desperately to life, while others, as they age, explode in a single instant with brilliant flame.

Meridians lit up layer by layer; acupoints burned like flames; the luminous energy surged like a river toward his heart, until his heartbeat grew stronger, clearer—Boom, boom, boom!

Yu Langwang gathered all his strength into a single point and ignited it fully.

He swung his weapon, the battle formation unfolded, deflecting every arrow that flew toward him; then he roared with laughter, the spectral wolf god reared its head and howled, wild and unrestrained—Yu Langwang's own aura surged, radiating crimson light.

Breakthrough!

This strike, launched in an instant.

The battle formation took form, striking the walls of the capital of the Ying State with full force.

When Li Guanyi stormed Aqi'ni City, he could still gather the army's strategist for a single crushing blow—now, with Yu Langwang's breakthrough, this single strike directly shattered the entire nation's protective formation. That formation drew upon the state's destiny—its energy surged violently, like ripples on water.

In the end, it held.

Yet the essence of the national destiny had scattered ripples; its radiance was greatly diminished.

Chen Fubì paid it no mind, merely saying:

"Even after long preparation, a breakthrough strike cannot break this formation? Hahaha, pity, pity—if the Array Master were here, with three months, even this protective formation of a central kingdom could be shattered."

"Enough, Jiang Wanxiang—this battle is left to the next generation."

He raised his weapon and laughed:

"Jiang Wanxiang, my final gift!"

"Do you like it?!"

"Hahahahaha!"

Jiang Wanxiang, affected by the surge of fortune, tasted blood in his mouth; his eyes glowed with cold fury:

"Old bastard…"

Yu Langwang sensed the massive army appearing at the battlefield's edge, and the lordly figure emerging—he turned with regal grace, gripping his weapon; above the troops, the Canglang Manifestation, symbol of Yu Langwang's entire destiny, let out a deep roar, its body cracking open in countless fissures.

The Canglang Manifestation gazed at the aged Yu Langwang, then closed its eyes.

The Canglang Manifestation shattered layer by layer.

First, it tore open from the back, unfolding wings that burst outward in all directions, dark clouds blotting out the sun, malevolent energy surging into the heavens.

From within the Canglang Manifestation, the claws and fangs of a ferocious tiger emerged!

Manifestation shift—feral beast, Qiongqi!

Five hundred years ago, when Chen Duke took the Fire Qilin, he killed Qiongqi; Qiongqi's blood sank deep into his marrow, and all his descendants underwent transformation—Chen Chengbi, for instance, earned the title "Mad King" in the Jianghu because of it.

Within the Canglang Manifestation galloping across the earth, a jet-black, winged tiger manifestation was born, raising its head and roaring, its eyes crimson, its malevolent energy threatening to blot out the heavens; Yu Langwang's own ninth-layer Heavenly energy instantly transformed again!

Break Through the Realm—Martial Legend.

Then he turned, sensing the prolonged breath and the explosive, raging combustion, raising his weapon's tip to point far across at Jiang Su: "Come, Jiang Su…"

"This final battle."

"I have waited… too long, too long."

In this turbulent age, the second Martial Legend of the Bing Family was born.

And today, one of them must perish.

?? Please vote for monthly tickets, friends~