Chapter 523: Divine Weapon Bingzhu, Nighttime Decisive Battle

The killing, bone-chilling aura of the military arts condensed almost completely in an instant; Li Guanyi saw the starlight in the sky flare up suddenly, then stream downward.

The Jiuli divine weapon's golden iron transformed into a golden stream of light, leaving Li Guanyi's wrist to hover in the air, radiating the aura of the military arts, with dark-gold radiance flowing across it—beneath the moonlight, it was nearly the embodiment of a star.

The Fire Qilin shifted into a cat and perched on Li Guanyi's shoulder; seeing such a sight, it froze, its ears twitching, then instinctively sat up straight, stretched out a front paw, and tried to hook this glittering thing.

"Hm? Eh??"

"How did it turn into a good fruit?!"

The Fire Qilin cat's eyes reflected the starlight from the sky, brimming with curiosity and longing; Li Guanyi, meanwhile, sensed the change occurring within this divine weapon—the starlight seemed to be drawn down.

Faintly, together with the fire-sha unique to the Five Great Lotus Pond volcanoes transmitted from the earth, the military-arts shaqi of a city-breaking, nation-destroying caliber gathered.

Starlight and fire transformed into sha, condensing into a weapon.

Poured into the divine weapon.

At this point, the metamorphosis finally unfolded.

This divine weapon from several thousand years ago had, at last, found the opportunity to complete its final step; the divine weapon the Jiuli had once placed great hopes upon—its final step required not merely a place of flame for smelting.

But the top-tier military-arts shaqi befitting the title of 【Jiuli Bingzhu】.

Only the qi of the great war that ended eight hundred years of enmity—the Central Plains destroying the steppe—could truly bring this divine weapon to completion; only by using the calamity and warfare of all living beings upon the earth as charcoal fire, and the starlight shaqi of the ten-thousand-law starry sky as furnace, could the strongest divine weapon be forged.

Thus: Divine Weapon · Bingzhu!

The Jiuli divine weapon's golden iron transformed into a broadsword, hovering in the air.

The blade pointed at the ground, rising and falling gently.

An extremely powerful divine-weapon aura spread slowly outward in all directions.

The level and intensity of this aura had already surpassed even the Chixiao Sword.

The broad blade was entirely ink-black in color, but upon it were dark-gold patterns forged from the three forces of starlight drawn from the heavens above, the military-arts shaqi, and the earth's fire essence—these dark-gold patterns covered the entire body of the sword.

To the naked eye, it was solemn and dignified, with its own towering majesty.

The Chixiao Sword was a little displeased.

But the sword spirit sensed the intensity of this ancient weapon.

So it was only displeased.

The Chixiao Sword's sword spirit let out a series of sword-hum sounds, trying to incite the Tiger Roar Against the Sky Battle Halberd to challenge the Jiuli divine weapon.

The Tiger Roar Against the Sky Battle Halberd couldn't be bothered to respond to the Chixiao Sword.

The Chixiao Sword could only let out a series of sword-hum sounds as if nothing had happened, awkward and embarrassed.

Li Guanyi waited for the aura upon the divine weapon to gradually calm, then reached out and grasped this divine weapon; the feel of it was not the coldness of ordinary blades and swords, but carried a warm, gentle qi; the blade was straight, and Li Guanyi's fingers brushed across it.

This Jiuli divine weapon's golden iron let out a low, deep sword-hum.

The Fire Qilin curiously poked its head out, thought for a moment, then stretched out a paw and pressed it against the blade.

Warm and cozy.

The Fire Qilin liked warm things; in this far northern land, the bitter cold was harsh—although it didn't affect the exertion of Its power, honestly speaking, it truly did make It feel uncomfortable.

This thing, though not a good fruit, was indeed a good thing.

The Fire Qilin's ears wiggled, and It placed Its second paw on it as well.

The entire Qilin, like a melted glutinous rice dumpling, sprawled across the blade, gently swaying Its tail—warm and cozy, soft and fluffy—and said: "This sword, hmm, can't really be called a sword; this weapon, has it been forged to completion?"

Li Guanyi replied: "Not yet."

The Fire Qilin was somewhat puzzled: "Is it that troublesome?"

Li Guanyi laughed, reached out to grab the Fire Qilin by the loose skin on the back of Its neck, lifted It up, and placed It back on his shoulder; gripping this sword, he flicked his wrist to send out a sword flourish, sensing the metamorphosis of this divine weapon, and said:

"It's heavier than the Chixiao Sword, and far more agile than the Tiger Roar Against the Sky Battle Halberd."

"Its hardness seems to have improved compared to before; when internal qi circulates, it can naturally carry earth-sha fire poison of the Five Great Lotus Pond volcano caliber, as well as starlight qi, which can increase the sharpness of internal qi."

"It can cut through iron like mud, and break through any armor."

"It's a state that combines the strengths of both divine weapons."

"It's only in a state that hasn't been completely forged to completion, yet it's already a divine weapon on par with the Chixiao Sword and the Tiger Roar Against the Sky Battle Halberd; if, in this battle, we truly defeat the Turks, perhaps it will surpass these two divine weapons…"

"A true Bingzhu?"

Li Guanyi weighed this divine weapon in his hand, thoughtful, and said:

"It's suited for executing battlefield-favored moves like cleaving and slashing, and can also perform the jianghu sword arts like Great-Grandfather's; they say a divine weapon ascends along with its master, and looking at it now, this jianghu saying does seem to be true."

"Divine Weapon · 【Bingzhu】—bearing such a title, it naturally cannot be like an ordinary weapon or stubborn iron, merely taking shape through fire and water."

"Since the divine weapon follows its master, then this divine weapon should also truly be forged to completion in this battle beyond the Five Great Lotus Pond volcanoes."

"In order to forge this sword."

"Then, in this battle, we shall face the enemy with this weapon."

"But that's fine too."

Li Guanyi brushed across the longsword, gripped the hilt, flicked his wrist, and swept the longsword out horizontally; the dark-gold flowing light shifted and changed across the blade, and after that martial, sharp aura gradually dispersed, what he held in his hand was already a dark-gold battle halberd.

Li Guanyi was well aware that this great war—destined to be inscribed in the annals of history, ending the contention between the Central Plains and the Turks—was, in this era, only the prophecy of the Central Plains' final battle.

That battle would surely be a head-on, all-out clash with the Ying Kingdom staking everything it had.

In this final battle to end these several hundred years of chaos, both sides would hold nothing back; after sweeping away the foreign enemy, they would pile everything they had onto the battlefield, completing the unification of the realm in the most blazing manner.

"First destroy the Western Regions, then pacify the steppe; the Central Plains kingdoms fight among themselves, and finally, on a battlefield of a million, complete the eight-hundred-year endgame of the Red Emperor's lineage—the momentum of obtaining the realm will be utterly legitimate!"

"Through all eternity, there will not be the slightest doubt."

Li Guanyi raised his head; at this moment, he suddenly dimly sensed a flavor of historical years and vicissitudes flowing on—the moonlight streamed down like white water-light, and like that never-ceasing passage of time.

He was a person living in this era, yet was also destined to be but a few brief lines in the annals of later ages; how would people of later generations view this extraordinarily significant great war, and how would they view this cold, quiet moonlit night before the decisive battle?

Li Guanyi cast the slight melancholy and desolation in his heart out of his mind.

He only thought that, after the Central Plains battle, the realm would rest and recover.

That peaceful era, which countless heroes and champions had longed for across several hundred years, was finally not far off; indeed, there were times when Li Guanyi would think that, no matter who won or lost the final battle, in the end it would still be days of peace.

But later, looking at the people of Jiangnan, he would feel that such thoughts of his were irresponsible, not brave enough, a form of escapism; even the Qin Wang, who had campaigned for ten years, had moments when his resolve was not so firm.

But the moment he turned his head and saw the smoke rising from the homes of Jiangnan, that spirit about to scatter would once again grow firm; the ordinary part of him was forged, tempered, clad in armor and helmet, contending on the battlefield, dressed up as the hero people saw.

Li Guanyi felt that he had always still been that same person.

That boy who could be happy for several days over half a roast goose with his aunt, and then feel a little heartache because he had spent too much money.

Merely learning to put on the appearance of a hero.

Li Guanyi gripped that Jiuli divine weapon, looking at the freshly honed blade of the divine weapon, which reflected his eyes; a child must pretend to be an adult, an adult must pretend to be dependable, and then pretend to be the hero of life.

The world is just like this.

On this road he had walked, he could not afford to lose.

From thirteen years old to now, already twenty-two, having walked this road all the while, with so many people dead, he could not afford to lose; under such circumstances, the young Qin Wang finally felt within his heart a sense of "if not me, then who."

Even at this moment, he had already swept away the foreign enemies; even at this moment, to the west he had broken through thirty-six nations and sealed the achievement at Mount Juxu; to the south he had pacified eighteen tribes, pursued the fleeing and chased the routed, broken through Chen and entered Jiangzhou, garrisoned the southwest and obtained the Jiuli; the day of peace was right before his eyes.

But it absolutely was not the case that whoever won would obtain peace.

Rather—

If it were not us who won, then this realm would still not know peace!

The great trend of the world—if not me, then who.

Only this "me" was by no means the interpretation of days past.

All living beings are me.

The common people are one.

On the metal of that Jiuli divine weapon, the dim-gold flowing light rose bright and clear, circulating over the sword body itself, which was ink-black in color; faintly, beneath the dense martial killing aura hidden within, a special destiny, similar to yet utterly different from the Chixiao Sword, had appeared.

The Chixiao Sword's sword spirit: "…………"

The sword spirit let out a series of sword-chime sounds, with a sense of embarrassed fury at finding its position overlapped.

The Tiger Howling Heaven Battle Halberd trembled, its steel roar like a fierce tiger.

As if laughing uproariously in mockery.

Li Guanyi raised his hand and knocked on these two divine weapons, and only then did they quiet down again.

Li Guanyi put away the divine weapons properly and looked into the distance.

"The final battle, then…"

At that time, General Xue Shen would surely set foot on the battlefield as well.

Jiang Su already knew of General Xue Shen's existence, so at that time it would be hard to achieve the effect of 【catching the enemy off guard】; the final battle was bound to be that kind of real blades and real spears, an all-out open slaughter.

Once the Jiuli divine weapon was forged by its Bingzhu, the Tiger Howling Heaven Battle Halberd could be returned for General Xue Shen's use, adding a third of divine might on this battlefield.

But Li Guanyi suddenly keenly sensed something amiss.

"This divine weapon has been stimulated and shows signs of forging being complete; to a certain extent, this counts as a good thing, but why would the Jiuli divine weapon's metal suddenly undergo a change at this moment?"

Li Guanyi looked at the divine weapon undergoing a transformation triggered by the martial killing aura, his eyes slightly lowered; he already had some guess, faintly: since the transformation required the most top-tier martial killing aura to possibly complete, that also meant—

Just now, the martial killing aura pervading this stretch of heaven and earth had grown denser by another three parts.

What could it be? To have such an effect?

Li Guanyi made a decision in an instant, picked up the Jiuli divine weapon, strode into the military camp, swept his sleeve, and his qi surged forth like a wave of heavy hammers, striking heavily upon the war drum at the heart of the army's camp.

With a boom, the drum sounded, its vibration spreading in all directions.

"Issue the order: the entire army, prepare for battle!"

"The Great Khan is going to break out."

……………………

The moon was bright and clear, moonlight pouring down between heaven and earth like white silver.

The Great Khan sat right in the middle of the main camp, raising his head to look at the sky; his white hair hung down, braided into strand after strand of plaits, finally gathered into one great bundle hanging behind him; he sat on a stone, gazing at the sky and the stars.

Wretched beyond words.

More than wretched—simply being chased and driven about everywhere.

Sometimes, when the Great Khan himself recalled his wretched state these past few months, he could not help but laugh: "Truly shameful, Mu Zhahe, but it does remind me of us back in our younger days."

"But back then, our opponents weren't this thorny."

"We could still trade blow for blow, and weren't chased here and there like some old dog; ahahahahaha, truly unlucky, and shameful too."

During these past few months, he had tried many times—more than once—to snipe and counterattack; he and his kinsmen, just as in their younger days, galloped across heaven and earth, eager to find their own path, to find their own chance of survival.

But the response he received was almost cruel.

This time, the Central Plains' deployment against the grasslands could nearly be called luxurious.

Jiang Su, Li Guanyi, Li Zhaowen, Chen Tianqi—and after them, many other top-tier generals as well; Chen Wenmian, General Yue Qianfeng and others were also present.

The one point was that both sides had still left famous generals uncommitted.

The Ying Kingdom's General Yuwen and He Ruo Qinhu.

Under the Qin Wang's command, the top commander Yue Pengwu.

After all, the world was in turmoil; after all, they were enemies of each other; even though sufficient force had been dispatched to campaign against the grasslands, there was still ultimately a sword held in standoff against the other party—to act with the open and honorable bearing of a true hero, one must still keep a wary heart.

Those who had reached this point—how could any of them truly be simple-minded?

But even though none of them were simple-minded,

Yet before the greater picture and greater righteousness, they would do things that, in the eyes of the grasslands people, could almost be called foolish?

Central Plains people, Central Plains people…

Truly, can't understand, can't understand!

The Great Khan raised his head and looked at the moonlight.

The decisive battle of the Central Plains and the grasslands—before this great battle, they had already led a sufficient military force, publicly boasting an army of a million, vast and mighty, while the Great Khan had fewer than two hundred thousand left; though still a sizable army, they absolutely could not contend with the enemy.

"Mu Zhahe, oh Mu Zhahe, tell me, what should I do?"

"Mu Zhahe."

"Tell me, if back then I had not chosen to try to divide the Central Plains, but had quietly stayed inside my Great Khan's golden tent, watching the beauties dance and song, drinking the finest wines under heaven, and lived out my life in such pleasure, passing the burden of facing the unified lord of the Central Plains to the next generation—would that have been better?"

"That certainly wouldn't have been better."

The Great Khan wore a composed smile on his face.

He thrust Mu Zhahe's arrow into the earth, and as he rose, he murmured: "If the Central Plains, divided into three nations, still possessed such cohesion, then after I die and the Central Plains unites, will my descendants, our successors, be able to resist that finally unified Central Plains?"

"That is impossible."

"In my era, still alive, fighting against a divided Central Plains, the result was already only this; and after my death, facing a unified Central Plains, they likely won't even possess the spirit of this moment."

"Ashina and the others surrendered to the Qin Wang—weak children."

The grassland hero still had the sharp gaze of an eagle hawk in his eyes, and wore a smile: "A true man should die upon the battlefield for his homeland and his people."

"However, should I also be grateful to him?"

"Because of his willingness, the bloodline of the grassland people can continue to endure; but this child still does not understand—how terrifying the Central Plains is. Those Turkic people he brought into the Central Plains, perhaps within three generations, will become Central Plains people."

The Great Khan gazed at the vast white snow, and at last he held his weapon, pressed it against his forehead, faced the boundless grassland and sky, dropped to one knee upon the ground, and devoutly chanted: "Eternal Heaven, I am about to complete my campaign."

"I am about to fulfill the duty of a Khan; my blood shall flow into the earth, my flesh shall return to the sky, my name..."

The Great Khan opened his eyes.

He did not say, as in days past, may my name forever be carried upon the winds of the grassland.

He merely showed a faint smile: "May my name."

"Be buried within this chaotic dust."

He raised his weapon; the fierce Khan resolved to fight to the death for his nation. A frontal campaign was absolutely impossible—the only chance was to charge under the cover of night, when the Central Plains forces grew lax.

If they could break out, they might still gallop on, wandering the grasslands like their ancestors.

Survive.

Preserve the wildness of these grasslands, preserve the fierce valor of the Turks—survive.

Rather than being swallowed into the Central Plains like Ashina.

So long as they survived, one day, when the Central Plains fell into chaos again, they could rise once more, rebuild their own legends, and once again have their royal tent upon the grassland.

But just as he held a heart prepared for death, from the distant grassland there suddenly came the desolate sound of the morin khuur, and the mournful Turkic singing of folk tunes of the grassland.

They sang of the boundless grassland, the boundless sky.

Of a mother's embrace, of the wind of the earth, of a cherished yet unreachable homeland.

These songs were mournful, desolate. The men of the grassland were all bold and stubborn by nature, but at such a moment, beneath this bright moonlit night, having been driven out, having lost their homeland, their past, the grief in their hearts surfaced unmistakably.

The entire military camp was filled with an extreme sorrow and grief.

And longing for the beauty of days gone by.

Yet in such a situation, longing for the beautiful life of the past is spiritual suicide for a warrior.

The Great Khan determined the origin of the tune.

From the direction of the eastern battlefield.

There, it was the Army God Jiang Su.

The veins on the Great Khan's forehead bulged: "Jiang Su... you shameless wretch!"

A commander who, even when holding sufficient trump cards, would still choose the more prudent strategy—such was Jiang Su once, somewhat blinded and distracted by the invincible reputation of the Army God.

But that strategic defeat in the Western Regions.

Stripped away the Army God Jiang Su's arrogance.

Yet truly it is an ironic thing.

After losing the mentality of 【the Army God being invincible】.

He instead returned to that most prudent, most thorny state of the Army God.

The Great Khan only laughed long in the end: "A fierce and ruthless Chen Dingye, who became the strongest Army God when unrestrained; the contemporary number-one hero, Qin Wang Li Guanyi; and the number-one divine general of Chen a hundred and eighty years ago, Chen Tianqi."

"As a farewell banquet, this is truly excellent."

The Great Khan began his campaign as the moonlight gradually faded; the great army split into several routes, and he personally led one. This time, the Great Khan and the Turkic iron cavalry all embraced the resolve to die.

If they could successfully break out, they would, like their ancestors, wander the four corners, awaiting the chance to rise again.

If they failed.

It would simply be death.

The people of the grassland, the Turks—do they lack the courage to face death?!

Let this ending be the answer to Eternal Heaven. Eternal Heaven, as your children, galloping upon this vast earth, living upon it, fighting to the death—your blood descendants—we have not lost our valor.

In the end, we did not grovel, did not do anything weak.

Let our blood irrigate the boundless grassland.

The Great Khan led his men in a breakout; they successfully pierced the original blockade.

This time, from the flank, they charged into the wing position of Qin Wang Li Guanyi's Fire Qilin army. The Great Khan had no interest in clashing head-on with the Army God Jiang Su in his despicable state, nor any interest in fighting Li Guanyi at this moment.

He chose the wing position between the Qin Wang's army and Jiang Su's army.

Weakly defended.

First charge Jiang Su's army, then immediately wheel the spear of troops around, tracing an arc.

Turn back.

And instead cut through the ranks of the Qin Wang's Fire Qilin army.

Just as he had anticipated, he almost effortlessly charged into Jiang Su's wing, then wheeled about, shaking off the famous general of Ying, and left the last elite forces of Chen grasping at empty air.

The Great Khan, through sheer tactical maneuvering, held his ground within this death-encircling siege.

By sheer force of will, he carved out a single thread of survival.

Then, exerting every ounce of strength, he broke through that single thread of survival!

And just as he led his men in a breakout, an arrow pierced the air—the sharp, whistling sound was simply despair made silver. The Great Khan's expression turned solemn; he raised his hand, sweeping the heavy spear in his grasp, and it collided with the arrow.

In an instant, the sound of bowstrings rang out in an unbroken stream.

On both flanks and the outer perimeter of the military camp, an unknown number of ambush troops appeared in an instant, all leveling arrows and mechanical crossbows. And ahead, a young divine general clad in dark armor and a crimson battle robe with civil-and-military sleeves lowered his war bow, his eyes carrying the stillness of night.

"Great Khan, Li Guanyi is here. I have awaited you long."

"Why have you come so late?"

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