Chapter 455: The Divine General Returns, the Forces Unite

It was late autumn turning to winter; beyond the northern frontier, all was vast and grim, all things withered and white—though snow had not yet fallen, the grass and trees were dead, and as far as the eye could see, there was no sign of life, utterly unlike the scenery of the south.

Yue Pengwu, in the military camp outside the city, flipped through the letters in his hands.

What were called letters were in fact a thick stack of intelligence reports, containing all manner of Juan Sect records: the general state of the world today, numerous conflicts across the lands, and news of martial heroes—all from the Changfeng Lady's Changfeng Tower.

This region was where the Changfeng Tower's influence was strongest.

One could say that beyond the northern frontier,

Yue Pengwu, Yuan Shitong, and Xue Tianxing's three armies, with no rear support and few cities or civilians, had managed to hold firm across a thousand li of this northern frontier, maintaining combat readiness and daily life, as well as troop morale and discipline—much of this was due to the Changfeng Lady's efforts.

This was the buffer zone between the Turkic steppes and the northeastern edge of the Ying Kingdom.

The land was not rich in resources.

The Changfeng Lady had opened trade routes to deliver the army's necessities, at immense cost.

By the time a stone of grain arrived, the cost of transport had often exceeded three times its value—truly a losing business—but the Changfeng Lady never complained, and all three armies owed her their gratitude.

Yet the Lady always said it was Tai Ping Gong's son, Qin Wu Hou Li, who had ordered her to send them.

If you wish to thank someone, thank him.

"But if you wish to truly honor him, live well here and protect yourselves."

"May you all be free of worry, may the four directions be peaceful, may the world be at peace."

Though the former troops of Tai Ping Gong here had never seen Qin Wu Hou Li Guanyi, their recognition of him was extremely high, and their troop morale was tightly bound.

Yue Pengwu, calm and astute, had guessed the truth—the Qin Wu Hou, then deeply embroiled in the vortex, fighting for his life at the forefront of the world's storms, could not possibly have had the strength to arrange or manage this place.

He had privately asked the Changfeng Lady to thank her.

The girl avoided Yue Pengwu's bowed salute, smiling gently, slightly concealing her face with her folding fan, and offering a slight bow: "It was merely silver and gold."

"His father and mother are gone; little remains. All I could do was use this method to try to preserve a spark of the Tai Ping Army's flame—if it could warm his heart even slightly, that would be enough."

Yue Pengwu fell silent for a long while, then asked why she did this.

The girl seemed surprised, then smiled faintly, twirling her fan, stepping lightly—her answer, Yue Pengwu, this mighty hero, could never forget.

The girl thought long, then simply said: "Because I wanted to."

"That is all the reason."

"Is that reason not enough?"

The Changfeng Lady extended a finger: "Even if the whole world's heroes and ten thousand catties of silver were not him, I would not care; but if all the silver in the world were for him, to give it up would mean nothing."

Yue Pengwu was speechless; his respect for the Changfeng Lady grew deeper, yet the girl's health seemed poor—though she had reached the third level of Wu Gong, she constantly traveled through perilous lands, facing the era's warlords; the last time she came, her face was pale, her coughs sharp.

When asked, she only laughed and said it was nothing, just an old ailment.

He only hoped she would come to no harm.

Yue Pengwu walked to the window, opened it, letting the cold northern wind blow in, slightly calming the blood that had surged unbidden at the sight of the words "united forces"—since being rescued from the Chen royal palace by Li Guanyi and General Yue Qianfeng during the Chen Grand Sacrifice, five or six years had passed.

In these years, Yue Pengwu had taken the secret pills crafted by Master Siming.

Not only had the poison of the Fei Heart's blood been purged, but he had advanced further, swallowing the Fei Heart's blood with the golden-winged great roc's phantasm, his Wu Gong growing ever more refined within the ninth level, and he had become the supreme master of military strategy, tactics, and technique of his age.

He was now among the top ten divine generals of the world.

Yet the world's tide surged wildly; such a divine general was trapped here, beyond the frontier between the Turkic steppes and the Ying Kingdom's northeastern buffer zone, unable to step onto the greater stage—back then, when his martial power was shattered and his vitality gone, Po Jun and others had chosen a safe enough place for him to avoid major conflicts.

But that kindness now became a burden and an obstacle.

The world was vast, storms rising everywhere; Li Guanyi fought across the land, embroiled in one brutal battle after another, and while the situation churned like a vortex, Yue Pengwu could only remain here, locked in stalemate with the third divine general.

The Lichuan Divine Spear often rang out in the night, as if echoing its master's resentment and unrest.

The words "united forces" now ignited all the suppressed emotions and heroic fervor within him—had he still been the twenty-something Yue Pengwu, he would have already beaten the railings to pieces and roared to the heavens.

But now, having endured life and death, glory and disgrace, he had forged the heart of a great commander; he calmed himself, and began slowly reading the letter from the very start.

Li Guanyi's handwriting had grown even more tranquil, using plain strokes to recount all that had happened: mentioning the death of Yu Langwang Chen Fubì, the two great battles with Jiang Su, and the fates and transformations of Xiao Wuliang, Chen Wenmian, and others.

He also mentioned the return of the Yue Family Army.

Yue Pengwu, reading these words, could almost see each event unfolding ten thousand li away—the world's great tide, storms rising and clouds swirling; though he had not witnessed them firsthand, the letter let him imagine them vividly.

Yue Pengwu, inherently Emotionally Weighted and a hero of his age, sighed at Chen Fubì's death, rejoiced at Chen Wenmian's transformation, and chuckled at the actions of Han Zaizhong and others.

He felt the world's changes were too vast to put into words—only a sigh remained.

When he read Li Guanyi's letter stating that the three forces in central China had temporarily halted warfare, but that previous campaigns had committed forces of ten thousand or more on key battlefields, with civilians and auxiliary troops transporting supplies numbering several times that,

many regions had abandoned farming, taxes had risen, and the four directions were exhausted.

Central China had indeed suffered a great blow to its vital energy.

Under these conditions, the second divine general of the Turkic steppes, the Great Khan, led the First Heavy Cavalry, Tie Futu, and stationed troops along the border, eyeing central China with hunger, even planning to ally with the Chen Kingdom to jointly attack it.

Though Chen Dingye had refused this proposal,

the Great Khan's ambition was now laid bare.

If not today, then another opportunity would come.

The Ying Kingdom's Emperor Jiang Wanxiang had formed alliances, forging horizontal and vertical pacts to strike Chen; and Li Guanyi and Chen Dingye both bore blood feuds with Jiang Su and Jiang Wanxiang.

The situation within central China was now complex and shifting; the three forces were riddled with contradictions, while the Turkic steppes loomed outside—Tiance Prefecture had troops and generals, but its territory was no longer what it once was.

The current territory was too vast.

At first, when Li Guanyi was Qin Wu Hou, he held only the lands of the south.

Back then, the south spanned barely a thousand li—how could it compare to today's ten-thousand-li expanse, boundless and vast, let alone the complex, varied terrain of the present?

The western regions bordered both the northern steppes of the Turks and the Xiyicheng forces of the Ying Kingdom, while the waterways along the route all connected with Chen.

The southern lands were the very heart of the waterways.

One could say enemies lay in every direction.

For now, things were better—the wars had ended, the situation had calmed, central China was resting and recovering, and for the short term, no new warfare would break out; yet the hatreds had not vanished, merely buried beneath the surface.

Once, years later, recovery was complete and war resumed, this complex geography and vast territory would easily lead to multi-front battles.

When the time comes, if the Chen state desperately cuts off the waterways, the Turkic Great Khan will strike from the western regions; Jiang Su will handle the border between Jiangnan and the Ying state; He Ruo Qinhu and Yuwen Lie will abandon their dignity and carve through from Xiyicheng to beat down that Khan.

Li Guanyi, no matter how bold and martial, cannot be everywhere at once.

Governing a state and governing a province are entirely different concepts.

The national border is too long, and the surrounding enemies are too numerous—it is truly troublesome.

Don't even say it's just Li Guanyi; even adding Xue Shen's final opportunity still leaves us stretched thin. Xue Shen has sworn: his last battle must be the one that brings universal peace—he will not sleep before then.

Having come into this world, if you do not witness the grandest battle of the age, if you do not see the war that brings ultimate peace, and instead sink into slumber for a thousand years, when you open your eyes again, you will only learn of their achievements and their heroism through fragments in the annals—how can you accept it? How can you bear it!

Xue Shen nearly threw a tantrum:

"You cannot bully an old man like me!"

Li Guanyi's forces lack the top ten-ranked divine generals.

There are plenty of first-rate war generals and first-rate strategists.

For water warfare, there is the Furious Scale Dragon King; for mountain combat, the King of the Southwest, Duan Qingyu; for frontal assaults, General Yue Qianfeng and Yang Xingshi; for mounted archery, Wang Shunchen; and half a strategic talent in Han Zaizhong—all are first-rate war generals.

There is also Xiao Wuliang, currently recovering.

These first-rate war generals of the age rank between tenth and fiftieth on the Divine General List, and many have records sufficient to enter the top thirty.

Later on, there are Fan Qing, Qi Bi Li, Zhou Liu's camp, Ye Buyi, Gong Zhenyong, and others—all considered capable generals of the moment. Though due to youth, insufficient Wu Gong, or lack of command experience, they have not yet reached first-rate status, they possess ample potential.

Beyond this, there is also a shortage of large numbers of elite junior officers and commanders.

We lack the strongest, and we lack the grassroots.

The former lacks accumulated foundation; the latter lacks time for training and cultivation. Within the Fire Qilin Army and Tiance Prefecture, many captains and fierce soldiers have already endured great battles—they need only time to train, and they will become outstanding elite backbone.

They must absorb and transform battlefield experience into the ability to lead new recruits.

Ultimately, all this stems from the lack of rest and recuperation for Tiance Prefecture and the Fire Qilin Army—they have been racing nonstop through this chaotic whirlwind, fighting battle after battle without pause, like a dragon soaring skyward: fierce in momentum, but unsustainable.

If this continues without rest and recuperation, they will become a meteor in the chaotic age: briefly shooting to the heavens, blazing with radiance, then swiftly burning out in a glorious manner.

Therefore, Tiance Prefecture must pause, must slow down.

Until the young war generals systematically master their battlefield experience; until the hundred-battle hardened soldiers learn how to lead new recruits and shoulder command responsibilities; until those wounded and sick elite soldiers return to full strength and rejoin the battlefield.

Until logistics and civilian livelihood have recovered through years of rest and recuperation, until the people are wealthy and the state strong—then the Ying state and Chen state will face a Fire Qilin Army far stronger than before.

Like a tiger wounded, briefly resting and recuperating.

When it steps forward again, it will roar with head held high, shaking all living things.

The Fire Qilin Army and Tiance Prefecture know this. But the Chen state and Ying state know it too. What follows will inevitably revolve around: "How to let our own state rest and recuperate while disrupting the enemy's rhythm—especially preventing the Fire Qilin from truly growing."

【If the Fire Qilin rests well, the Chen and Ying states cannot rest well.】

Po Jun, Wen Lingjun, and the recaptured, would-be-escapee Master Wen Qingyu, after much deliberation, realized that logistics required only the sacrifice of Master Yan Daiqing's eye sockets and hair; the optimal solution for the army's momentum was—

A supreme general whose individual combat prowess is exceptional, who masters military tactics, and who possesses the ability to train a formidable army.

Xiao Zhi found it hard to believe, sighing: "How could there possibly be a divine general who is both valiant and bold, skilled at training troops, and utterly loyal and righteous?"

Zhou Pinglu's expression was complex and hard to read.

After long contemplation by Po Jun and Yan Daiqing,

the faces of these two foremost young strategists in military and logistics both showed a strange expression; they exchanged glances, clearly reading each other's unspoken feelings.

Master Wen Qingyu rubbed his chin: "... Really?"

Po Jun and Yan Daiqing exchanged glances and replied:

"Yue Pengwu."

"The Yue Marshal."

A name once illustrious but absent from central plains warfare for the past five years—Silence fell among the Nine Sons of the Imperial Academy. They exchanged glances; these young strategists, though speaking in different tones, shared the same emotion—either lamentation or regret:

"The Chen Huang."

"Fool!"

Xiao Zhi's face bore a sincere expression as he clapped and praised:

"The world is not yet settled, all sides are enemies. With such a divine general, yet suppressing him merely to preserve one's own power—this cannot be called foolish; could there also be a 【Yan Daiqing】 who has poisoned the Chen Huang's mind?"

"Marvelous! Marvelous! Such stupidity is so absurd it makes one unable to anger—only to laugh at its sheer ridiculousness."

"The Chen Huang of those ten years might as well have fed his brain to pigs."

"Then shoved the excrement back into his skull."

"A man who can be this stupid is so absurd that it evokes a strange judgment—if this had not truly occurred in the annals, no one would believe it."

Zhou Pinglu, watching Xiao Zhi's earnest, sarcastic words that left everyone speechless, chose to ignore that the subject was the Chen state's monarch: "In today's world, masters of military tactics are few. Since the Yu Langwang's death, only Jiang Su, the Turkic Great Khan, and the Yue Marshal remain."

"Although our General Fan Qing also possesses such ability, his strength lies in spiritual guidance—he can turn even the most hopeless men into fierce warriors, and instill battle spirit even in slaves."

"He makes the Fire Qilin soldiers understand why they fight."

"This is certainly vital."

"But for cultivation, training, and battle formations, we still need a traditional master of military strategy like the Yue Marshal."

"Moreover, the Yue Marshal is, after all, among the top ten divine generals of the world."

Zhou Pinglu's words carried immense weight.

This weight is something Fan Qing and General Yue Qianfeng cannot match.

Top ten of the world!

Utterly loyal and righteous!

A supreme strategic talent capable of commanding large-scale armies!

The Nine Sons of the Imperial Academy and Yan Daiqing fell silent.

Though their temperaments differed and their strengths varied, their vision for the grand tide was of the same caliber—they knew too well the Fire Qilin Army's strengths and momentum, and too clearly its weaknesses and disadvantages.

The Chen and Ying states are like aged men, exhausted in spirit and vigor, yet still giants—dead but not yet fallen, still possessing residual might; while Tiance Prefecture is like the rising sun, its wings stretching across ten thousand li, yet still young, lacking deep foundation.

In this world, countless heroes still exist, along with mysterious powers.

The Ying state possesses the divine general Jiang Su, whose gaze sweeps all before her.

Even Li Guanyi must fight with his life to barely hold his ground against Jiang Su.

Li Guanyi is now the sole pillar of the Fire Qilin Army; if he departs, none of the many renowned generals can defeat or resist commanders like Jiang Su, Yuwen Lie, or the Tian Kehan. It would be unthinkable to force General Yue Qianfeng to bear this burden alone under such circumstances.

Moreover, with the current vast and layered territory, not even to launch an offensive, but merely to stabilize the situation and hold the four borders, requires more than one great general capable of commanding a region.

Originally, Lu Youxian was best suited for this role, but Lu Youxian, brave and fiercely loyal, took his own life to die for his country, and with insufficient time for recovery and rest, the Fire Qilin Army lacks a towering pillar strong enough to hold the line after Li Guanyi's departure.

Yet if he reunites with General Yue, this greatest dilemma and deficiency will be resolved.

Thus, this strategy of advance and retreat is acceptable.

Even in the most perilous future scenario, with Li Guanyi, Yue Pengwu, and Xue Shenjiang guarding the four borders, and bolstered by the power of the Three Nine-Ding Treasures, they shall stand invincible and unbreakable.

The middle strategy is for Yue Pengwu to hold the rear.

Li Guanyi leads the main force forward, the rear secured, the enemy army shattered, Yan Daiqing managing logistics—sufficient to ensure the rear is utterly safe; then Li Guanyi may advance boldly, with no worries behind him.

The superior strategy is to wait for a shift in the realm's fate, then Li Guanyi emerges from the Jiangnan region to tie down Jiang Su.

Simultaneously, dispatch a supreme general northward from the Western Defense Pass; the two great armies advance in tandem, riding this overwhelming momentum to destroy both nations, capture both kings, and swallow the entire world.

All these strategies, countless plans, and grand trends hinge on one crucial point.

That point is Yue Pengwu's return.

When General Yue returns, the entire Fire Qilin Army and Tiance Prefecture's situation will improve.

Thus, they found Li Guanyi and had him write these words in his letter to General Yue; yet Yan Lingjun still harbored concern, saying: "General Yue's loyalty and righteousness are beyond doubt, but, my lord, how will you move General Yue's heart?"

"How will you persuade him to abandon his previous strategic choice and come to us?"

After long contemplation, Li Guanyi said: "I have my own method."

Yue Pengwu read the letter, understood the grand trend, saw the world's transformation—he was already deeply moved, eager to go, yet he also knew: he had been permitted to leave the Ying state's borders because, at that time, for the Ying state, Yue Pengwu's survival was preferable.

Thus, they allowed his army to cross the Ying state's frontier.

Now, everyone knows how critical Yue Pengwu is to the Fire Qilin Army.

Jiang Wanxiang and Jiang Su will never permit Yue Pengwu to lead his troops south to join forces.

And if he takes the route through the steppe, then to the Western Regions, then downriver to Jiangnan, he must face the Tian Kehan; the situation has changed—when General Yue Qianfeng traveled west unimpeded, it was because the Tian Kehan knew Yue Qianfeng was aiding Li Guanyi against the Chen and Ying states.

But now, Li Guanyi has just severed the head of the Thirteenth Khan.

The Tian Kehan will intercept them.

Moreover, the journey is long, and not everyone can ride like General Yue Qianfeng's cavalry; Yue Pengwu, now over thirty, is a seasoned commander—every move he makes must be weighed carefully, timing considered, no rash action permitted.

He has matured.

He is no longer the reckless, fiery youth under Tai Ping Gong's command.

He planned to write a reply, telling Li Guanyi to wait for the right moment, to remain steady, not to act on fleeting passion or boldness, but to seek the proper opportunity before returning with his army.

Then, the thirty-something Yue Pengwu, now calm and seasoned, reached the final lines of Li Guanyi's letter.

Unlike his earlier, composed letters discussing the fate of the realm,

this brief note was written with fiercer strokes—clearly, it poured forth Li Guanyi's raw emotion—

【General Yue, for three hundred years the world has been in chaos, our Central Plains have sunk, great states have fractured, the people suffer, peace is unattainable. Now the four directions remain unsettled; within, brothers eye each other with suspicion; without, barbarian tribes watch like tigers. Though I am unworthy, I vow to mend this shattered heaven with my own body.】

【Will you, General Yue, join me in restoring this shattered Shanhe?】

【Let the countless Li Min of this world rise again, free from humiliation.】

【I wait here for you, my commander. When will you return? Let us, comrades in arms, reclaim our Shanhe.】

【Northward Campaign! Northward Campaign!】

After it came an unfinished ci-poem.

The upper stanza was good; the lower stanza still lacked harmony—but that fierce, burning spirit, that masculine heroism, exploded from his heart, surging upward.

My hair stands on end, leaning on the railing as the drizzle ceases. I lift my gaze, gaze to the heavens, and let out a long roar—my heart ablaze with passion. Thirty years of fame? Dust and soil. Eight thousand miles of road? Clouds and moon.

Do not idle away, let youth turn white, leaving only empty sorrow.

The shame of those days remains unsatisfied. The world's hatred—when will it end? I shall drive my chariot, shatter the enemy's city gates. My ambition hungers for the flesh of the barbarians; my laughter thirsts for the blood of the Tiele. When I begin anew—

The lower stanza, unfinished, incomplete, unfulfilled.

Yet that fierce spirit was already enough to strike the face.

The thirty-something Yue Pengwu, now calm, no longer the reckless, fiery youth of old, sat still for a long while, his gaze fixed on the words 【reclaim our Shanhe】, then on the four characters above them.

【Northward Campaign! Northward Campaign!!!】

Emotions, heroism, the intelligence, the reunion, the fate of the world—all the suppressed passion surged up within Yue Pengwu.

After a long while, in Yue Pengwu's eyes,

a flicker of flame burned uncontrollably.

"Northward Campaign!!!"

?? Successfully switched to a daytime schedule, hoping Chapter 2 comes soon (peacefully)

? New arc begins, begging for monthly tickets~