Chapter 443: Great Victory, Breakthrough!

When Jiang Xuantao's head fell, Jiang Su's hand paused for an instant.

Before this cold, indifferent general's eyes flashed those brief years—the resolve to leave behind a pillar for the future state of Ying, still unmoved; the faint ripple as he watched his child after leaving behind his bloodline.

Every day he had taught him martial arts with the authority of an elder, and every step of Jiang Xuantao's growth—from a child to a spirited youth, to a noble young man, to the battlefield, to glory and achievement.

Past memories flowed like water; once ignored, now they pierced Jiang Su's heart like a sharp blade.

The hand of the martial legend hesitated as it retracted in that instant.

Jiang Xuantao's head landed on the ground and rolled.

A pair of eyes filled with unwillingness still stared wide open at the sky.

Past memories vanished like smoke; Jiang Su remained silent for a long while, then slowly lifted his gaze to Li Guanyi, the one intact eye beneath swirling with vast waves: "... Qin Wu Hou, impressive tactics."

Li Guanyi replied calmly: "On the battlefield, life and death are mutual. I have no interest in torturing the dead."

"Jiang Xuantao's body was seized by his own subordinates."

"When General Yuwen Lie and He Ruo Qinhu's forces retreated, he was crushed into pulp amidst ten thousand soldiers—we tried to recover his remains but failed; only this head remained intact. The dead deserve dignity, Jiang Su—take it."

"If you want his body—"

"I can have my men bring you the blood-soaked mud from that patch of land."

Crushed into pulp by ten thousand troops!

Jiang Su's chest ached slightly.

He now felt, more completely, the pain Chen Wenmian had endured that day.

Jiang Su's gaze was cold and still as he fixed it on Qin Wu Hou; his hand tightened on the Jingmie Divine Spear, its blade humming a mournful cry. Li Guanyi watched him back, eyes arrogant and icy.

Both knew Li Guanyi had thrown Jiang Xuantao's head to Jiang Su because of the Wolf King's vengeance.

They knew between them lay a blood feud no great river or ocean could wash clean.

Jiang Su drew a deep breath and said coldly: "No need. A warrior's fate is to be wrapped in horsehide on the battlefield. He died on the front against Jiangnan—he died well, died swiftly, without shame."

"When I break through Jiangnan, I will go to the place where he fell to pay my respects."

"To honor every son of the Great Ying State who died on the battlefield!"

Jiang Su's heart ached faintly, but as commander-in-chief, he could not show the slightest tremor—any pain, anger, or resentment must be buried deep. He saw the city's protective formation.

He faintly sensed the aura of the Whale Fisher, Xue Shen Jiang.

He knew this seemingly ordinary city concealed hidden depths.

Jiang Su did not rashly attack the city; instead, he stationed his army on both sides, utterly calm, knowing he must first achieve strategic objectives rather than waste strength on brute force—even with his own son dead before his eyes, horrific as it was, he did not rage or lose control.

The Fire Qilin Army's advance into Ying territory halted here.

News of the Grand Tutor of Ying successfully blocking Qin Wu Hou spread across the land; the hearts of the court ministers of Ying immediately steadied. Jiang Su had achieved his strategic goal; now, Ying's public sentiment and morale could no longer sustain another war with Jiangnan.

Continuing the fight would trigger a collapse of public morale.

Jiang Su still feared the powerful clans of Ying who had once interacted with the Wolf King.

He feared the chain reaction that might follow a shift in public sentiment.

A change in public sentiment, uprisings everywhere—such events could cause a thriving empire to collapse swiftly, shattering into fragments. And now, after a long war of defeat, Ying's morale and condition had reached an extremely dangerous threshold.

They could not fight further, nor afford further delay.

According to Jiang Su's usual strategy, a war without strategic significance was one he would not continue—he must immediately withdraw his troops, return to the capital, and enter the next phase: rest and recuperation.

Yet now, the Ying army remained stationed outside the city walls, refusing to leave.

It seemed they still intended to fight on.

Even Jiang Su, a man whose will was iron, could not help but feel a pang of sorrow at seeing his only son die before him, could not avoid the stab of pain that deepened his hatred for Li Guanyi.

Jiang Xuantao's head rested in a box; Jiang Su could not bear to look, so he closed the lid and placed it on the table, gripping his weapon—the Jingmie Divine Spear hummed mournfully in the night, his killing intent swirling, nearly bursting through the seals of reason.

Fight! Kill!

Raise the army! Drive deep into Jiangnan! Without a care—drag both Ying and Jiangnan into the endless vortex of war, exhaust both sides' foundations, and plunge together into ruin!

But he knew the Whale Fisher and Xue Gong were present.

Behind them lay Jiangnan's territory directly.

Even if Li Guanyi were not his equal, he could still escape by abandoning his army.

Ying was now in a state where it could not lightly initiate war—if they fought and failed to kill the enemy's leader, it would be meaningless, only further draining national strength and prestige.

The world has long suffered from endless slaughter—it is time to return to rest and recuperation.

Let great war resume in a few years.

"Cannot… cannot fight on."

Jiang Su released the divine weapon, gasping heavily, face twisted with agony, yet his reason locked his emotions down: "If we fight Jiangnan without restraint, both sides will eventually exhaust their foundations and people's livelihoods—Zhongyuan will be reduced to ashes."

"Even if one side eventually wins, it will invite invasion by the Turkic and Hu tribes from the north. At that time, Zhongyuan's strength will be weakened, unable to resist from all sides. If any gap opens, the chaos may surpass even the great disorder three hundred years ago—no, no."

Jiang Su staggered and sat down on the chair; precisely because he possessed such strategic vision, he was the one commander who could never act on raw emotion.

White hair hung down, his single eye closed; now, stripped of iron will and transcendent coldness, he finally looked like an old man.

Before his eyes flickered the image of his only bloodline.

That terror, that unwillingness.

Clearly, he had been beheaded at close range, with brutal force…

"Crushed into pulp amidst ten thousand soldiers."

Li Guanyi's voice seemed to rise in his mind; Jiang Su closed his eyes and, piece by piece, peeled away this emotion and anger from his heart—until he was no longer affected, until he became the cold, unyielding Divine General once more.

Honor and disgrace cannot touch his heart; life and death cannot shake his resolve.

A new secret report arrived swiftly, marked with crimson—the highest-grade confidential message in all of Ying. Jiang Su unsealed the letter, glanced once, and his face changed drastically.

"Your Majesty suddenly coughed blood and collapsed—the court is in turmoil!"

"Both princes have arrived at the palace; the ministers, the chancellor, and the imperial relatives all wait outside the great hall."

"Your Excellency, please return to the capital at once!"

Jiang Su's expression hardened, his pupils contracting.

"Your Majesty..."

Jiang Wanxiang suddenly spat blood and collapsed; Li Guanyi had shattered Yuwen Lie, and He Ruo Qinhu's forces had invaded the border—though they had captured few cities, the nature of their incursion was extremely vile, and in the turmoil, it stirred the hidden wound left by Yu Langwang, Chen Fubi.

Jiang Wanxiang ultimately could not hold on.

If Jiang Wanxiang died now, the chaos in Ying's court would instantly reach its peak: Yuwen Lie had lost an arm, He Ruo Qinhu was gravely wounded, and both the Crown Prince and the Second Imperial Prince's factions had entered a period of decline.

Thus, it would cause the most violent split.

Jiang Su's expression shifted.

His reason, and the promise he had made to Jiang Wanxiang years ago.

Completely suppressed the grief and pain of his son's death; compared to this strategically meaningless battle now, returning to the state and protecting the stability of the realm was what the Grand Preceptor must do.

Duty to family and nation outweighs personal grudges and emotions.

Whether by many means or the death of blood kin, it was all the same.

"Order all troops to remain here as previously arranged."

"After tomorrow, I shall return to the capital."

"Yes!"

………………

The next day, the Ying army moved; Grand Preceptor Jiang Su did not immediately withdraw—before leaving, he still dispatched generals to challenge the enemy—retreating without a fight would severely damage national morale.

Tiance Prefecture did not respond; the feigned attacks were all repelled.

Diaojingke and Xue Shenjiang personally guarded the city's defensive array; forty thousand elite troops had fully shifted from offense to defense, linked with the terrain, unbreakable—only Grand Preceptor Jiang Su himself, leading his army, could strike with military might.

His aura surged like a rainbow; faintly, a colossal golden-armored god-spirit, like a mountain range, swung a blade of light—vast, terrifying, as if connecting heaven and earth, carving a grotesque scar across the land, slashing fiercely forward.

Diaojingke's face hardened, he barked:

"Watch out—the old bastard is furious! Raise the array!"

Diaojingke's voice echoed simultaneously in the ears of every Fire Qilin soldier across all sectors; with his cry of "Raise the array!", every Fire Qilin captain ordered his men—deputy commanders, captains, centurions, squad leaders, and file leaders—all moved at once.

Each Fire Qilin soldier stepped into their array position.

Their qi linked, making the great array stronger, its flow exquisitely precise.

Even to prevent these coarse soldiers from understanding this mysterious array,

Diaojingke patiently drew circles on the ground for them—different formations required different postures and qi adjustments; in the past, even when Si Wei challenged the array, Diaojingke would merely sneer and ignore him.

Today, he had to patiently help these soldiers arrange the array.

With Diaojingke's control,

In an instant, the breathing of forty thousand soldiers became as one; Master Siming clasped his hands, qi flowing and shifting, intertwining into the grand He Tu Luoshu, appearing above the city.

The colossal blade of light struck the ancient He Tu Luoshu.

Violent qi scattered in all directions.

Diaojingke's silver hair flew, his eyes sharp with divine radiance.

General Jiang Su's strike gathered the combined strength of many into one slash; Diaojingke's array flowed to decompose this killing blow—terrible enough to slay a monstrous beast—layer by layer, dispersing it.

Using the military might of forty thousand Fire Qilin soldiers and Si Wei's method of forming arrays from mountain and river veins, he guided all residual force of the strike into the earth, dispersing the power entirely.

The blade array clashed with the city's defensive array; after a long while, both dissipated. In the instant the blade vanished, a powerful aftershock swept across the entire city—wine banners snapped, houses shook violently.

The entire army's momentum sagged; many low-level soldiers turned pale, their blood qi surging violently, nearly spitting blood—but they had finally blocked Jiang Su's strike.

Diaojingke looked up and saw the cloud sea above split cleanly down the middle.

He knew: Jiang Su had truly gone all out.

Jiang Su, holding the Jiemie Divine Spear, stood there with the genuine intention to unleash his entire army and flatten this place—but now, the situation in Jiangnan, the state of the world, held Diaojingke, Xue Shenjiang, and Master Siming.

With the force he had now, he could not take Li Guanyi, who stood backed by Jiangnan.

He could certainly defeat him—but not kill him.

But if he could not kill him,

it would be meaningless.

Li Guanyi would always return.

The grand strategy of a military commander and the turmoil behind him made Jiang Su sigh, even feeling a pang of envy for his now still-radiant disciple.

If it were Yuwen Lie, he would charge without hesitation—but Jiang Su was ultimately the Grand Preceptor of all Ying; he still remembered the boy Jiang Wanxiang, who had reached out his hand to him decades ago.

Now, that boy had grown ancient and frail.

So he knew—even a divine general, even a legendary warrior who had dominated every battlefield—still had things he could not defy. He sighed, plunged his divine spear Jiemie into the ground, and the white-haired Grand Preceptor called out loudly:

"Li Guanyi!"

"We both command tens of thousands of troops; we are now locked here—I cannot advance, you cannot retreat. Since autumn of Tianqi 11, the world has been in chaos for over two years; all nations are weary, the people yearn for rest and recovery."

"If we fight again, all the people of the world will suffer."

"Why not settle this once and for all—with just you and me?"

"If you win, I will withdraw my troops immediately; these cities were originally wrongly held by Chen—letting them to you now is no matter. But if I win, your Fire Qilin army must retreat from this city, fall back three hundred li."

Jiang Su's voice carried far, righteous and noble—for country, for people.

Before Li Guanyi could answer, Diaojingke sneered and shouted: "You two fight? Jiang Su, how can you say such a thing with that face? A hundred-year-old monster, the number-one divine general, challenging a nineteen-year-old boy?"

"You speak so grandly, but you're just bullying the weak and fearing the strong."

"Why don't you challenge the Sword Madman instead?!"

"Why don't you go into the Mystical Realm, find that ancient red dragon that's lived for thousands of years, and tell him: 'Let's fight—no armies, just us'?!"

"Strange, strange indeed."

I thought you already had something shitting and farting behind you.

How come there's another one on your face?

You've got a face!

The Whale Fisher's cold laugh rolled down like mockery.

Xue Shen shook his tiger-like frame.

Huh???

This young man is that fierce?

Master Siming and the Old Black Tortoise stared at each other.

Even Li Guanyi found it hard to keep his composure; as someone who began as the lowest of the Wushu legends—a beggar who had tried every trick, scam, and deceit—the Whale Fisher's verbal aggression surpassed everyone's expectations.

Jiang Su concealed her killing intent and said:

"I want to speak with Li Guanyi, not some beggar like you."

"Li Guanyi, come here."

"Will you fight or not?"

Li Guanyi knew he could not retreat now—everyone's attention was fixed on him. If he fought and lost, the soldiers would be demoralized; if he refused to fight, Qin Wu Hou's prestige and momentum would inevitably weaken.

Li Guanyi stepped forward, pressed his palm against the city wall, and looked at the world's foremost divine general, seated atop a divine steed, imposing as an iron tower, and said: "Fine, I'll fight you!"

The Whale Fisher, Xue Shen, and the others all changed expression slightly.

But at that moment, Li Guanyi spoke:

"But I fight you alone—this city was won by my men's blood and sweat, it is their spoils. I cannot do it alone, and I will never hand it over just because I lose to you. Never!"

"Besides, I've already promised some people!"

"I will absolutely hold this place!"

"I will never abandon them like those before me, like my father, like my uncle—they won't be left behind again!"

Li Guanyi lifted his brows, his gaze blazing, and said:

"The world belongs to all people, not to you or me."

"Jiangnan is the Jiangnan of millions, not something I can erase with a single word."

"If you want to fight, then fight—Jiang Su, you can fight Tiance Prefecture as long as you like. We'll fight with you until total victory."

Li Guanyi's words carried a grand, heroic spirit—the common folk and soldiers surged with courage. Feng Xiao, who had feared Li Guanyi was walking into a trap, froze, then his eyebrows relaxed and drooped as he nodded repeatedly:

"Yeah, yeah, exactly! That's the stuff to drink to!"

He looked around but found no wine, so he pulled out some cooking wine he'd bought from some shop, tricking his brain into thinking it was fine aged liquor, and reluctantly downed it.

Good wine!

Tasted like vegetables!

Jiang Su stared at Li Guanyi; Li Guanyi stared back. The world's foremost divine general said: "Good!" His true aim was not to seize the city—it was to vent his grief over losing his heir, yet being forced to return to court.

He set down his battle spear, removed his divine bow, nocked an arrow, and locked it onto Li Guanyi.

The killing intent of a man who lost his blood kin was thick.

Li Guanyi gripped the Po-Yun Zhen-Tian Bow, drew it open, and pointed it at the aged man atop his steed—both men's lethal aura reached their peak; within Li Guanyi's chest, the Nine Provinces Cauldron roared violently.

The aura of Eighth Heaven's peak.

Even though his gap with Jiang Su was vast, he still had the heart to draw his sword.

He stood atop the city wall, his back to vast lands and the support of millions. His battle armor bore crimson Fire Qilin patterns that danced in Jiangnan's wind; Li Guanyi's arrow pointed at Jiang Su, his gaze icy.

The man who killed his parents, the mastermind behind the deaths of countless Tai Ping Army generals.

Yu Langwang's death. Gu Dao Hui's death. Xiao Wu Liang's severed arm.

And many other comrades.

Hatred!

Blood feud!!

At last, he faced this blood feud—the origin of all hatred. Memories surged from within him: countless thoughts, Yu Langwang's voice, Gu Dao Hui's resolve, the voices of the departed echoing chaotically.

In the end, Li Guanyi's mind could only recall a childhood memory: his mother gently patting him, softly humming an ancient lullaby. Suddenly, he remembered that day—she held him, spring light flowing, Jiangnan's waters stretching long.

Her chin rested on the child's forehead as she smiled and hummed the old song.

"May my child live a hundred years, live long, free of sorrow."

"Live a hundred years."

"Free of sorrow."

Beyond that, all was blank.

The arrow of the Po-Yun Zhen-Tian Bow pointed at Jiang Su—at the man whose blood debt could not be washed away by all the waters of the Three Rivers and Five Lakes. In a daze, over a decade since that day rolled past.

The gentle woman had finally left the child's side; the child stumbled forward.

The young herbalist in plain clothes, smiling with youthful wit; the fourteen-year-old guest minister in blue-patterned robes; the Jin Yu Guard; the fugitive; the Daoist; the leader of the wandering troop—each image flashed before him.

"I am Li Guanyi, herbalist of Huichun Hall."

"I am Li Guanyi, guest minister of the Xue Clan."

"Li Guanyi, Jin Yu Guard!"

"This humble Daoist, Li Yaoshi."

"My father is Tai Ping Gong..."

"Fire Qilin Army!!!"

Li Guanyi raised his gaze, drew the bowstring taut, and released the arrow—past lives shattered. Standing here was Qin Wu Hou, who had crossed all those pasts, a hero with arms wielding battle halberds, conquering vast lands.

The arrow shot like a pillar of light; Master Jiang Su fired back.

Jiang Su's arrow, fired later, arrived first, shattering Li Guanyi's arrow; yet Li Guanyi instinctively stepped aside, the arrow grazing his cheek, leaving a bloody cut.

The Qilin Army's banner flapped fiercely; Qin Wu Hou radiated a stern aura.

Grand Tutor Jiang Su remained calm, plucking a second arrow.

Li Guanyi countered with his second arrow.

The second arrow still shattered midair; the Whale Hooker, Xue Shenjiang, Master Siming, and others said nothing—they saw Li Guanyi, finally standing before his enemy, his essence and spirit now tightly condensed.

"Pity—no matter how divine the weapon, to challenge Jiang Su at this realm is impossible. Not to mention defeating him; even gaining a slight advantage is hard."

Xue Shenjiang said: "Yes, Jiang Su's Wu Gong has reached the realm of transcendence."

"Unless…"

Master Siming asked: "Unless what?"

Xue Shenjiang said: "Unless he suddenly breaks through, and the force of his arrow surges beyond the first two, catching Jiang Su off guard—then he could humiliate Jiang Su before all three armies. But how could that happen?"

Master Siming and the Whale Hooker both thought this was nonsense.

Breaking through mid-battle.

Master Siming shook his head repeatedly: "Impossible! Absolutely impossible!"

"Even if I root for this boy Li Guanyi, this is absurd."

"Old man here bets my thirty years of fortune on it—this will never happen!"

Li Guanyi nocked his final arrow, his spirit coalescing into one point—when suddenly, a massive bell-like sound echoed at his ear; his internal Qi stalled. In the eighteen state capitals of the Jiangnan region, a blessed creature arrived at superhuman speed.

The Black-and-White Iron-Eating Beast charged forward, rolling like a living projectile from the southwestern mountains into Jiangnan.

On the beast's back, Nangong Wumeng, clad in armor, gripped the beast's neck flesh, nearly thrown off by the violent motion; his pale face trembled with fear, yet he endured it, charging into Tiance Prefecture and shouting:

"Great victory! Great victory!!!"

Around Nangong Wumeng's waist hung the seals of countless cities!

The only monster capable of physically bearing cosmic fortune without being crushed by its weight.

Cosmic fortune surged like a tidal wave into this place.

Swallowing ten thousand li—like a tiger!

Like a tiger!

Nangong Wumeng entered Jiangnan.

Li Guanyi's aura surged violently; the Nine Cauldrons rang out. At the peak of Mount Juxu in the Western Regions, the Nine Cauldrons erupted in a profound, desolate bell tone—and in that instant, Li Guanyi's internal Qi exploded.

At last, he stepped into the Ninth Heaven.

His fingers released.

The arrow shot forth!

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