Chapter 415: The Final Battle in the Western Regions

On the Nine Cauldrons, thunder rumbled and trembled; the qi of human destiny surged upon them.

At this moment, two-ninths of the Nine Cauldrons had ignited: half depicted the river systems of Jiangnan, the other half the great deserts of the Western Regions; now, another one-ninth faintly glowed.

Just as when he first arrived in the Western Regions, drawing upon the divine essence within the Nine Cauldrons to faintly connect with the Nine-Colored Divine Deer, now as the southwestern destiny first entered the cauldrons, Li Guanyi faintly sensed, in that distant southwestern direction, a land thick with miasma.

There was faintly an ancient consciousness.

Ancient, powerful, possessing immense physical strength; in its legends, it bore the style of weapons and warfare—a auspicious omen like the dragon, painted upon ancient war banners by indigenous peoples to inspire morale.

An auspicious omen of war?

Got it!

Li Guanyi exhaled in relief and faintly made contact with that consciousness.

The Nine Cauldrons glowed brightly; Li Guanyi transmitted his consciousness toward them.

"Hello…"

The distant consciousness froze.

Confusion.

A chewing sound came.

Li Guanyi endured patiently: "Hello?"

The consciousness froze, as if lifting its head, gazing around bewildered, then lowered it again to eat.

Chew chew.

After Li Guanyi, using the power of the Nine Cauldrons, transmitted his consciousness for the third time, the distant consciousness suddenly realized this voice seemed to originate from within its own mind—and after a silence—

A series of shrieks erupted within its consciousness.

Then it seemed to fall from a height.

Crack—boom.

Then came a bouncy rebound sound.

Rebound, roll, roll.

High-speed rolling!

Then it severed the qi connection to the Nine Cauldrons unilaterally.

Li Guanyi: "???"

"Why is this auspicious omen so different from the Nine-Colored Divine Deer and the Ancient Crimson Dragon…"

Li Guanyi understood: the four directions of heaven and earth each held countless auspicious omens; as the Ancient Crimson Dragon had said, even the Western Regions harbored auspicious beings beyond the Nine-Colored Divine Deer—yet the Nine Cauldrons seemed to instinctively choose beasts whose nature resonated with them.

Like the dragon's fierce battle prowess, like the Nine-Colored Divine Deer's compassion and gentleness.

What manner of bearing, what disposition did the southwestern divine beast possess?

For some reason, Li Guanyi always felt that brief connection carried an unmistakably unreliable air—had he somehow linked to a young auspicious beast, like the Fire Qilin?

Yet the southwestern territories were vast; it was impossible only one auspicious legend existed there.

Li Guanyi pondered, gazing at the Nine Cauldrons as their glow gradually settled.

No corresponding map changes appeared on the body of the Nine Cauldrons.

Relying solely on the destiny imprints left by these seals, it was impossible to leave a mark upon the Nine Cauldrons as profound as those of the Western Regions or Jiangnan—but much primordial qi had been absorbed into the cauldrons.

Within the Nine Cauldrons, the primordial qi compressed and condensed, transforming into jade nectar; the jade nectar flowed and shifted.

Li Guanyi's spirit stirred slightly, casting aside thoughts of the divine beast's peculiar nature.

He rose, and within this small space, extended his limbs, executing the Tiger Roar Bone-Forge Art; his sinews and bones resonated, his qi circled, drawing the jade nectar into his body, transforming every bone and vessel, advancing his cultivation.

His eyes half-closed, he faintly perceived the surging tide of the world's fate.

The tiger crouched in the Western Regions, gazing southward; the momentum surged—his gaze fell upon the southwest, where a great force, like a boulder poised atop Gaoshan, ready to roll down at any moment, had already taken shape.

The southwestern destiny further bolstered it.

Li Guanyi's own path was the unification of the Nine Provinces; though the martial legacy left by Yu Langwang was mighty, to him it was but scenery along the road—he could never truly follow Chen Fubì's path.

If he walked Yu Langwang's path, Li Guanyi would forever remain behind him.

Yu Langwang would be a peak he could never surpass in this lifetime.

This was why the martial legacies of legendary figures were said to be singular paths.

Li Guanyi's own path lay in unifying the realm; now, with the power of the southwest, he had taken a faint step forward—this single thread of destiny marked the beginning of his plan: the tiger crouched in the Western Regions, swallowing the world; his Eighth Heaven foundation surged in response.

The Nine-Colored Divine Deer had always remained within Anxi City.

Sensing the shift in qi, it was startled, fearing some disturbance, and rushed over—only to find Li Guanyi had finished practicing the Tiger Roar Bone-Forge Art within the Anxi Protectorate's headquarters.

Now clad in simple robes, he stood solemn, eyes half-closed, sweat glistening at his temples, his hair slightly lifted, his qi vast and profound.

Compared to before, he seemed far heavier, more grounded.

Even without armor or divine weapon, he stood like a blade without edge but immense weight—majestic, grand, imposing, impossible to ignore.

The Nine-Colored Divine Deer froze: "You've broken through?!"

Li Guanyi opened his eyes, exhaled slowly, reached out, took the letter bearing the Wang Yin seal, placed the depleted letter upon the table, and replied: "Merely a slight advancement along the Eighth Heaven path."

"Not yet to the Ninth Heaven."

"So, nothing much."

The Nine-Colored Divine Deer, recalling Li Guanyi's words, fell silent.

The Nine-Colored Divine Deer suddenly remembered something and said:

"But if you've advanced, then your injuries…"

Li Guanyi closed his eyes, breathed deeply; his sinews and bones shifted slightly, his immense, heavy qi swirling and transforming—the martial might of an Eighth Heaven Divine General rose; he clenched his fist, sensing the power surging within.

The piercing pain that had once arisen from his limbs and bones had gradually vanished.

For now, the great momentum had taken shape: the division between Jiangnan and the Western Regions, fueled by the destiny in this letter, had transformed into the tiger's crouch in the Western Regions, gazing upon the world; Li Guanyi's own path had advanced, bringing about a transformation in his spirit.

He also refined these fortunes using the Nine Provinces Cauldron, erasing the months of arduous cultivation that should have been necessary.

Li Guanyi swept his palm horizontally; sword qi tore through empty space, leaping beyond the courtyard. With a casual grab, he condensed qi into a weapon—a battle halberd. He swung the halberd, slashing and sweeping horizontally, his moves fierce and dominant, exactly his usual standard.

The Nine-Colored Divine Deer sensed Li Guanyi's physical transformation, its voice brimming with joy:

"Good, good, good."

"More than three-tenths have been restored."

"Finally, from a grievous injury that affected every step, breath, and movement, you've recovered to this state—after consuming so many medicinal soups and treasure herbs. It's not easy, not easy."

Li Guanyi also felt the changes in his body.

Just as the Nine-Colored Divine Deer said.

For Li Guanyi's injury, slow, painstaking healing was less effective than raising his own realm and Wu Gong; what was a grave wound to the Eighth Heaven was no longer so daunting at the Ninth Heaven.

Li Guanyi closed his eyes, retracted the halberd, stood motionless for a long while, then struck again. This time, his halberd techniques no longer resembled the earlier ones—no longer wild and brutal, charging across battlefields. Instead, they carried a calmness.

Each movement flowed effortlessly, yet the ripples around the halberd made it clear: within this seemingly plain form lay immense, violent power.

The Nine-Colored Divine Deer sensed a faint pressure, a lurking threat.

It nervously twitched its ears.

Then slowly stepped back a few paces, watching curiously as Li Guanyi wielded the halberd.

This was the martial art of General Jiang Su.

Li Guanyi had fought Jiang Su himself, personally experiencing the martial art forged over countless battles and centuries—polished until not a trace of agitation remained.

He had also seen the corpse of the Wolf King brought back by the Western Regions' Living Buddha.

He perceived the spiritual essence of Jiang Su's techniques when bolstered by military momentum and national fortune.

The two merged: he gained not only the form, but also the spirit.

After awakening, Li Guanyi had not trained for a long time; all his insights had accumulated within him. Now, holding a weapon, his understanding of the techniques flowed forth like an endless stream.

His practice evolved—from extreme brutality gradually drawing inward, slowing down.

Until finally, the halberd in his hand no longer carried its former ferocity. Each move was simple, unadorned, yet contained a profound sense of inwardly condensing and focusing all his power.

At this moment, one unit of force could produce an effect surpassing three units of old. Li Guanyi exhaled, flicked his wrist, and let the qi-formed halberd dissolve, saying:

"Jiang Su's Wu Gong is truly terrifying…"

"The day I won—it was because my uncle's forces pressed directly toward the capital of Ying; second, because of General Xue Shen and Elder Fish-Whisperer; third, because tenfold troops severed Jiang Su's army."

"I merely clashed with him—he used one unit of force, I countered with three."

"I'm alive only because of three-tenths luck."

The Nine-Colored Divine Deer asked: "You've learned Jiang Su's Wu Gong?"

Li Guanyi smiled: "Only three-tenths of the skin and hair."

"This is only because I experienced it with my own body. Without my prior battle with Jiang Su—without the experience of forcing him to retreat while gravely wounded—I'd have learned nothing, not even one-tenth."

The Nine-Colored Divine Deer did not understand human martial arts well.

But it knew Li Guanyi had grown—and was glad for him.

Li Guanyi absorbed the insights he had gained during this period.

He walked back into the Anxi Protectorate, picked up his brush, and wrote a reply letter to the King of the Southwest and others. He gave it to Zhang Ziyong, instructing him to personally arrange its delivery. Unfortunately, Elder Fish-Whisperer and Master Siming had already departed.

Otherwise, Master Siming would have been the ideal messenger.

Sitting atop the Turtle Spirit Form, he could travel like lightning.

But after confirming Li Guanyi had attained legendary-level martial perception,

Elder Fish-Whisperer stayed only a few days before leaving with Master Siming, carrying the Mystical Realm array stone from Xue Shenjiang and Zhang Ziyong's arm, returning swiftly to the Jiangnan region to seek the Mo Juzi of the Mohists, to forge Xue Shenjiang a new mechanical body.

After all, the previous body had been pierced through and shattered by Jiang Su's Divine Spear, Annihilation.

"The next great war is at least several years away."

"There's still time."

"The one we used before was merely an original artifact from the Imperial Academy, meant for studying mechanical arts. Though extremely precious, its structure, techniques, and materials were all centuries-old standards."

"Spend several years forging Xue Shenjiang a body powerful enough."

After discussion, Elder Fish-Whisperer and Master Siming added the ideas of Master Pan Wanshou and Gongsun Huai-zhi of the Gongsun Clan, proposing a crucial insight: "In his lifetime, Xue Shenjiang was not famed for his physical body."

Master Pan Wanshou said:

"Then, theoretically, if we use materials to forge divine weapons,"

"to craft a mechanical body for Xue Shenjiang,"

"wouldn't we fill his former weaknesses? Make him a supreme general with no flaws in experience, Wu Gong, techniques, or physique—so even facing Jiang Su, he'd have a fighting chance."

Xue Shenjiang sighed: "But Jiang Su already knows my identity."

"Next time, we won't have the element of surprise."

Thus, Elder Fish-Whisperer and the others hurried to Jiangnan to forge a new mechanical body to divine weapon standards. Since they were no longer in the Western Regions, Zhang Ziyong took the letter and departed swiftly.

Li Guanyi summoned the Anxi Protectorate's generals for a meeting.

The generals and strategists, upon learning the intelligence from the Southwest, were all delighted.

"Thus, the Southwest threat is resolved. Our advantage remains unknown to Chen and Ying. With an alliance with the Southwest, leveraging the autumn rise in water levels, we can complete the first phase of our strategy."

"At that time,"

the generals' gazes turned to the map.

The great tide surged—since Khan Qibili returned to the Western Regions with the Tiger Golden Wang Yin, this game had begun. Then Li Guanyi led his troops into Jiangnan, pacified the entire region, was enfeoffed in Zhongzhou, and warlords vied for supremacy.

The Chen-Ying war, the struggle for the Western Regions—from Tianqi Year Ten to now, Tianqi Year Thirteen.

Several years had passed.

The accumulated momentum, step by step, had finally reached the moment of explosive release.

The situation across the land has become perfectly clear.

At this moment, even General Fan Qing, so composed, glimpsed a flicker of fierce fire in his eyes as he stared at the map.

At this moment, the Fire Qilin Army holds the Western Regions; if they complete this final strategic move, descending along the Jianghe River in a mighty tide, linking the southwest to the south of the river, they will firmly grasp control of the entire river system of the land.

Then, it will be.

Three-way division of the realm!

The great tide is within reach; only one final obstacle remains between us and this mighty momentum.

In the Tiance Prefecture, all the generals listed on the Divine Generals' Roll fixed their gazes on the same spot—a blade severing the Tiance Prefecture's grand strategy, like the final move that locks the great dragon in a game of weiqi.

The Chen State is vast!

Yet now, the only thing standing before this surging tide is one man.

The vast Chen State has only one man.

In this chaotic age, there is still one man!

Someone spoke—perhaps all spoke together in hushed tones:

"The Western Defense Pass—Chen State—Lu Youxian."

Even now, as enemies, these valiant generals and strategists could not suppress a flicker of admiration in their hearts.

At the same time, a fierce fire rose within them all: in just a few short years, from nothing to everything, they had torn apart the realm and nearly achieved the throne of a hegemon—indeed, they could already see the hegemon's throne.

Only a few steps remain.

Before this great tide, even plain words stirred their blood; Fan Qing unconsciously gripped the hilt of his waist sword, memories of his past flooding back.

His slaughtered family, the ruined courtyard, the satisfaction of stabbing the official to death with his blade, the humiliation of being pelted with rotten vegetables, and the despair he himself had felt—then, he thought he was beyond salvation.

The past rose before his eyes.

Yet now, that poor-born boy was a general.

He must rewrite it all!

Master Yan Daiqing gazed at Jiangzhou City, lowering his eyes.

Father, Mother… your son will make his name echo across the land.

Become a renowned scholar.

Khan Qibili thought of the legend of the three-hundred-year-fallen Iron Tiele Golden Crescent Cavalry, about to resound anew through history, while Zhou Liu's camp thrilled with blood surging at the prospect of achieving feats equal to their ancestors'.

Po Jun's eyes glowed with pale purple light.

He was exceedingly excited.

He thought of the generations of masters in the Po Jun lineage, his grin stretching wide—ha ha ha, you old bastards!

Have any of you ever achieved a feat like mine?!

Have you?! No! Even the Po Jun of eight hundred years ago, the hegemon's general, could not! Ha ha ha ha! I will become the first in eight hundred years to earn the legend of the Shiwaisan Sect's greatest!

They were not merely riding this chaotic age to support Li Guanyi's grand dream; yes, they trusted Li Guanyi and fought under his banner—but how could a hero of the age lack his own longing?

Their own desires and ambitions converged with the ruler's great vow.

This was the fire of the chaotic age.

And now, this long-stored fire would leave the Western Regions, leave the south of the river, no longer confined to a single land, but truly claim a realm of ten thousand li—drawing near the fulfillment of personal ambition, nearing the glory to be carved into history.

Only one step remains!

How could this not stir the heart like a raging tide?

Li Guanyi exhaled, gazed at the map, reached out, took a piece from the weiqi basket beside Master Yan Daiqing and Wen He, and placed it upon Anxi City—the piece clicked sharply as it landed.

No other sound followed.

Only the sound of breath.

Only the sound of hearts beating.

Their gazes fell as Li Guanyi's finger pressed the piece forward, pushing it onto the Western Defense Pass; he withdrew his hand, his sleeves falling, and said calmly:

"This is the final move in the Western Regions."

"Take Lu Youxian."

"Gentlemen, I rely on you."

His voice fell, plain and quiet.

Boom!

All moved in unison, stepping half a pace forward—some clad in armor and battle robes, others in simple long gowns—but all now bore solemn expressions, their gazes steady as if on a battlefield.

In perfect unison, they bowed with clasped hands.

Together they said:

"Yes!"

Thus, a fierce, chilling aura surged skyward.

………………

Li Guanyi had regained enough combat strength to appear on the battlefield.

Thus, the final phase of the Anxi Protectorate's strategy against the Western Regions began; the generals and strategists all bowed, received their orders, and departed the Anxi Protectorate.

At this moment, the fierce fire in their hearts dispelled the weariness of countless battles.

Heroes and champions—so long as the breath in their chests does not fade—

can continue to fight on.

Among the strategists, only a few understood the greater meaning of this step: among the warlords of the realm, those who could wage a war of annihilation were already famed in history—but what they were about to accomplish was—

Po Jun murmured: "This is… nation-building."

"From nothing, forging a hegemony."

How could it be compared to the fall of a nation?!

Among the remaining strategists, only Wen He, Master Yan Daiqing, and Yuan Zhi remained. After a moment's thought, Wen He smiled and said, "Come to think of it, I do have several strategies to employ against Lu Youxian and this Zhenxi Xiongcheng."

After Wen He spoke a few words, Li Guanyi's forehead twitched.

Po Jun's eye twitched violently.

Yuan Zhi began searching for his rope.

Huh?? Wait.

Where did my rope go?!

How did it disappear? Who stole it?!

Wen He's expression remained unchanged.

What poison, what plague, what corpse-catapult plague spreader.

What water source.

Master Yan Daiqing had already clenched his fists.

He had a faint premonition that if these strategies were deployed, his name in the Western Regions would truly become "eternally renowned."

Li Guanyi smirked, face calm, and said, "This battle, compared to the three great battles—the one at Mount Juxu in the Western Regions, against Yu Langwang, and against Jiang Su—is still nothing. There's no need to deploy your tactics, Master Wen He."

"This battle, Master, already has hidden agents."

"Just leave logistics to Master Yan Daiqing."

Wen He said, "Ah, I see… fine…"

His expression, however, seemed almost regretful.

Then he was dragged away by Master Yan Daiqing.

Anxi City and all the Western Region cities were in their final mobilization. Emboldened by the morale surge after defeating the First Divine General, and before that momentum could fade with time, Anxi City mobilized its troops to assault Chen's border stronghold, Zhenxi Xiongcheng.

Li Guanyi went to meet Chen Wenmian.

In Anxi City, Chen Wenmian had his own private courtyard, guarded by Canglang Guard cavalry. When Li Guanyi arrived, the Canglang Guard personal guards bowed respectfully, intending to announce him, but Li Guanyi told them not to bother—he walked in alone.

In the courtyard, Chen Wenmian was practicing. In the past, he had wielded the heavy spear passed down by Xiao Wuliang, once used five hundred years ago by Chen Baxian, Duke of Chen. But now, the white-robed warlord held a double-edged battle blade.

The blade's edge gleamed with lethal sharpness; when wielded, icy flashes danced and swirled, exuding supreme dominance.

The Qiongqi spiritual manifestation roared and bellowed, revealing its power.

After completing his routine, Chen Wenmian sheathed his weapon and bowed. "Big Brother."

Li Guanyi saw that Chen Wenmian's cultivation was still at the peak of the Sixth Heaven Realm, training relentlessly every day. He said, "We're about to attack Chen. Will you come with us this battle?"

Chen Wenmian said, "Yes!"

He reached out and caressed his weapon. "If I cannot tread the world, if I cannot become a Grandmaster, how can I avenge my father? How can I use this blade to personally sever Jiang Su's head?"

Li Guanyi knew Chen Wenmian was still consumed by grief and murderous intent, so he said nothing more—only informed him to prepare the troops; they would soon march to storm Chen's border pass.

That day, Chen and Ying both cultivated tranquility and ceased hostilities.

In Anxi City, Qin Wu Hou Li Guanyi led his army forth and attacked Zhenxi Xiongcheng.

Inside Zhenxi Xiongcheng, Lu Youxian exhaled a long, heavy breath and asked:

"How many enemies are coming?!"

The city's commander's face was grim, his voice trembling as he replied:

"Qin Wu Hou has led his army—three hundred thousand troops—surrounding our city."

Lu Youxian fell silent for a long while. "Three hundred thousand…"

"We must hold this city. Its fate determines the course of the world."

All officials within the city, shaken by the fame of the currently renowned Qin Wu Hou's assault, were filled with dread—except one, who slowly raised his gaze, his expression revealing a long-awaited, relieved sigh.

He closed his eyes and murmured:

"Finally arrived. I've waited so long!"

"Another month's delay, and it would've been too late."

Indeed—it was the Academy, the foremost strategist.

Zhou Pinglu.

?? I barely held on for half an hour, please throw some monthly votes everyone.

? After that, a batch of new character cards has been uploaded.

? Because everyone suggested it, I specially uploaded Hou Zhongyu, Old Hou's character card as well. If you're free, go drop a like (peacefully)