Chapter 524: The Death of the Great Khan Wang

The Great Khan Wang Gudulu looked at the young monarch beneath the moonlight, a dazed feeling rising within him — Qin Wang, Qin Wang, even after giving everything he had, he still had not managed to break through this encirclement?

He looked at Li Guanyi beneath that crimson Fire Qilin banner.

The latter did not hesitate in the slightest; his palm descended in a calm slash. Ever since he had taken Jiangnan, he had entered the Academy and pulled the entire Mohist school directly into Jiangnan, unhesitatingly providing these Mohist scholars with everything they needed.

Four or five years had passed, and this move had finally begun to show its effect.

The Gongsun family's mechanical arts combined with the Mohist repeating crossbows — two ancient masters of mechanisms from a thousand years ago had parted ways because of their differing ideals, and now, a thousand years later, their descendants had once again fused the techniques of mechanical arts together.

Beneath the moonlight, the Qilin Army fired their heavy crossbows in unison.

The strongest mechanical crossbows of this era required a material that could contain internal force to ensure penetrating power; the might unleashed at close range was enough to pierce iron armor, and flesh and blood offered not the slightest resistance.

The Gongsun clan's repeating crossbows, the Mohist mechanical arts, high-speed continuous fire — even if a martial artist could rely on Wu Gong and internal breath to use their weapons to deflect the incoming bolts for a short time, so long as they had not reached the third layer of the Heavy Heaven Realm, where internal breath forms armor, there would always be gaps in their defense.

Once there was a gap in defense, a bolt would pierce through.

A martial artist's flesh and sinews were tough; some bolts might not shoot through, but the specially crafted boltheads had barbs, making it easier to cause sustained damage and pain.

Even the Turkic's fierce cavalry began to be unable to resist.

The Turkic Great Khan Wang gritted his teeth, a surge of internal breath erupting through his body — a peak ninth-layer Heaven expert, one foot already stepped into the legendary martial realm — he unleashed his Dharma Phase, the Dharma Phase's roar soaring to the heavens, forcibly scattering that volley of a thousand troops.

The bolts fired by the top-grade mechanical crossbows were suppressed by the violent internal breath, seeming to freeze in midair, unable to advance an inch.

The Turkic Great Khan Wang let out a long howl, gripped his war spear and swept it horizontally with sudden force; the vast internal breath exploded outward, surging and scattering in all directions. Those countless arrows raining down like a storm suddenly trembled and shattered in midair.

Then, under the sweep of this violent internal breath, they shot violently outward.

The Great Khan Wang's Dharma Phase roared like a mountain range.

Even the moonlight seemed drawn by his Dharma Phase, falling like a silver pillar of light. The Great Khan Wang paid no heed to the Fei poison within him, merely brandishing his weapon and pouncing toward Li Guanyi to slay him, his great army gathering behind him.

Li Guanyi gripped the Jiuli Bingzhu divine weapon, twisted it sharply, both hands holding the divine weapon.

He brought it down heavily toward the front.

Overlord-level aura began to explode outward.

Black-red flames, the roar of dragon and tiger surged up in an instant. The Great Khan Wang felt the terrifying might transmitted from this war-halberd — this force seemed nearly inexhaustible.

The power was even greater than when they had clashed in the sixteenth year of Tianqi.

Is it that I have grown old…

Or is it Chen Dingye's Fei poison?

Or has he broken through once again?

The Great Khan Wang did not know whether it was sorrow, or regret, or perhaps more a sense of lament in his heart. Two divine generals clashed at the center of the battlefield; every collision of each move and each stance seemed like thunder striking the earth, and no soldier dared appear within the area of their clash.

Even the shockwaves from the collision of the two divine weapons alone were enough to crush an ordinary Captain, or even a fourth-layer Heaven Deputy General — let alone ordinary soldiers?

Yue Qianfeng looked at the battlefield there and roared: "Brothers."

"Follow me!!!"

"Crush the Turkic, win merit and glory — today is the day!"

He brandished a war-halberd in one hand and a battle-axe in the other, leading the great army behind him into a battle formation, tearing toward the front. His Crimson Dragon Dharma Phase raised its head and roared — this was General Yue Qianfeng, an eighth-layer Heaven famous general, commonly known among the people as 【Eleventh of the Top Ten Famous Generals Under Heaven】.

Like a humanoid raging dragon, he led his troops to slice into the flank of the Great Khan Wang Gudulu's army. On the other flank was Chen Wenmian in silver armor and white robes — this was the battle formation the Qilin Army had developed during the campaign against Jiang Su in the Western Regions.

With Qin Wang at the core, to face the top divine generals.

While the other frontline famous generals cut across the field, breaking apart the military formations behind the divine general, severing the enemy's battle momentum, to weaken the opposing main general at the front and create an advantage for Qin Wang.

This was also why, no matter how much the Qilin Army expanded in numbers, Qin Wang's prestige remained in a league of its own within the army.

Because in every campaign to punish the realm, he was always first into the fight.

Qin Wang's military merits were the foremost among all the generals of the Qilin Army.

How could the many fierce generals and famed ministers of the army not be convinced?!

Without Qin Wang, Yue Qianfeng would be enough to roam freely over a region; Li Zhaowen, Chen Wenmian, each could hold their own territory and roar proudly across the lands; the Tangut prince Hao Yuan Xia, the Tiele Nine-Surnames Great Khan Qibili, the Turkic Seventh Prince Ashina, could all establish themselves as kings in the Western Regions.

Without Qin Wang, these fierce and valiant famous generals under his command would be enough to throw the entire realm into chaos — who knows how many would proclaim themselves emperor, how many would proclaim themselves king — it was only because Qin Wang was here that all the divine generals were sincerely and willingly convinced.

At this moment, fighting fiercely, the Great Khan Wang still harbored the thought of seeking life within death.

After one clash, he endured taking another ultimate technique from Li Guanyi head-on.

He forcibly broke through the flank, taking a portion of elites to continue the breakout. Qin Wang did not lightly send out troops or rashly pursue, but instead stabilized the rear situation, lest this be a feigned defeat by the Great Khan Wang.

After stabilizing the rear, he left the various generals to hold their positions.

Xiao Wuliang held the main camp.

Li Guanyi personally led Yue Qianfeng to pursue.

Yue Qianfeng gripped his weapon, feeling nothing but exhilaration, and said: "Ah, this hunt — I really want to charge straight into the formation right now, and fight this Great Khan Wang another three hundred rounds!"

He felt his hands itching terribly.

But he also knew that on the battlefield, this was not the jianghu — and especially in this kind of large-scale battle, where several months had been spent driving the enemy out, herding them to a fixed location, and committing massive troop numbers, one could not rely on reckless bravery and charge about wildly.

At this time, trust the other comrades-in-arms.

Coordinating with each other to accomplish the strategy was more important than individual solitary valor.

The Great Khan Wang fled for his life, only managing to rush forward a stretch of road. The Qilin Army's main force was not as fast as his and could not catch up; there were still many war generals around him, several hundred elite guard brave generals, and chiliarchs each leading their own retainers — also a considerable host.

Someone, no one knew who, let out a slight breath of relief and said: "Finally shook them off…"

At that very moment, a sharp sound of something tearing through the air suddenly rang out.

They saw an arrow shot forth; in the night, a golden phoenix spiraled in the sky, letting out a clear, soaring cry — and then came an eighth-layer Heavy Heaven Realm blazing ultimate technique bearing down.

A woman's clear, spirited voice came through with a smile.

"Great Khan Wang, you came in such a rush — why leave in such a hurry?"

Central Plains Divine General · Li Zhao Wen.

Li Zhao Wen's eyes were bright; in her hand she gripped a mystic weapon, behind her the Xuan Armor Army, Central Plains-style banners unfurling and falling, dancing in the wind — upon them was also the character 【Li】, but the background was Xiyicheng.

The Great Khan Wang had spent his life on the battlefield; this level of opponent did not concern him. In the past he would even have been interested enough to rein in his mount and exchange blows with this younger generation — but now he no longer had the spirit for it.

The Great Khan clashed with Li Zhaowen for only a few exchanges, using his martial vigor to force Li Zhaowen back; he had intended to finish him with a single thrust, but an Eighth Heaven general leading an army was no longer something he could eliminate with one blow.

Li Zhaowen held his ground for several more exchanges, as the vast army surged forward with shouts of battle.

A grim, deadly aura filled the air.

Within less than half an hour, the Great Khan's forces clashed with Li Zhaowen's Xiyicheng and Western Regions cavalry, then broke apart.

Great Khan Kudeluk defeated Li Zhaowen, severely wounded Yu Chi Xiong, slew over ten generals, and killed the three lords of the Western Regions with his spear—fierce and unstoppable—he reined in his horse, personally braving arrows and spears, charging the enemy lines multiple times, tearing through Xiyicheng's vanguard.

Then a general, his face covered, appeared; the Great Khan speared one warrior, saw him, and cried out: "Is that my son Ashina?!"

The general, clad in full armor, paid no heed, pushing forward with all his strength.

In a single strike, the Great Khan knocked the weapon from his hand.

The Great Khan stared at him and laughed: "You are not my son."

Then his voice sank low, uttering a phrase in the Turkic tongue; his divine weapon spun, its blade slicing through the night of the steppe, and the throats of several brave officers nearby sprayed blood as they fell from their horses.

The Great Khan turned his palm, striking the general's chest with the butt of his spear.

One blow sent him tumbling from his horse, flying backward dozens of paces before crashing to the ground.

Then, summoning courage once more, he broke through the encirclement; he was already white-haired, an old wolf of the steppe, yet still personally slew over a hundred Captains and shattered Xiyicheng's blockade.

Li Zhaowen swallowed the blood in his mouth, feeling a dull pressure in his chest.

The Great Khan's martial prowess, even in such dire straits, was terrifying—like a caged tiger; had it not been for her own innate talent, and had the Great Khan not been unwilling to linger, she might have suffered far more than just injury.

Leaning on his spear, wiping blood from his lips, he said: "... Truly stubborn."

"From last autumn until now, so much time has passed—gradually cutting away Turkic territory with slow knives—and yet he still possesses this will to fight, this ferocity."

"Had we not chosen Master Pojun's tactics from the start, we might have been dragged into endless warfare by this Khan."

Pojun said: "Precisely because of this dire situation, he possesses such fighting spirit."

"A grieving army always wins; when placed in mortal peril, one finds life. Could the Great Khan, the former second-greatest general under heaven, lack such methods and grandeur? Yet..."

The purple-eyed strategist watched Ashina the Seventh King, his face covered, stagger to his feet, clutching his chest; Pojun fell silent for a long while, then turned his gaze away—Ashina clutched the armor over his chest, pierced by his father's spear.

The heavy armor bore a grotesque dent.

Top-tier divine generals could slaughter through ten thousand troops, and with their Dharma Form unleashed, a single spear thrust could pierce a mountain—but the Great Khan's spear had merely left a puncture mark on Ashina's armor.

Perhaps the force had struck his chest, leaving Ashina feeling suffocated, struggling to breathe.

He had come to this battlefield of his own will—to face his father.

For the sake of those steppe people who could still live, he had to do this.

Otherwise, those ordinary folk who merely herded on the steppe would likely not survive the coming world.

In the chaos of this great battle, many heard the Great Khan's words—but even those who understood the Turkic language of the steppe did not know what they meant.

They only knew that the general, who had achieved glorious feats and once held the post of Commander-in-Chief of the Expeditionary Army, had kept this armor, pierced by the Great Khan's spear.

Long, long after, when Ashina himself was white-haired, beneath the quiet moonlight, he would stroke the dent on the armor and weep uncontrollably—the image of his mother's death, and his father's final spear thrust, his laughter echoing in his ears.

When he was a child, before his father and mother had fallen into such bitter conflict, the Khan of the steppe would lower his head, letting the child sit upon his shoulders like a tall horse; the child would shout, "Gee-haw, gee-haw!"

The Turkic king mimicked the horse's cry, calling the child by his nickname.

Back then, the wind blew across the steppe, grass rippling like waves, the sun warm and translucent; the Khan's face bore a bold smile, golden light falling upon his tent, a gentle Central Plains woman smiling softly.

That Turkic phrase was nothing more than that.

………

"KILL!!!!"

The Great Khan brought his heavy spear crashing down, tearing open the path ahead; they turned direction, avoiding the rear forces of Xiyicheng, only to meet the elite of Chen State—the Great Khan charged across the battlefield, breaking through enemy after enemy.

He clashed with Chen State's first divine general from one hundred and eighty years ago, making Chen Tianqi's hands tremble.

In this battle, the Great Khan of the steppe fought from the sinking moon until the sky began to lighten; the vast steppe, his familiar land, had become another world—everywhere, enemies; everywhere, enemies.

In the end, only over thirty Captains remained beside him.

The rest of the troops had scattered widely.

The Central Plains' great generals each came to duel the Great Khan—it felt like bidding farewell to an eight-hundred-year-old enemy, yet also like a sieve, steadily thinning the Turkic army.

The Fire Qilin Army absorbed a portion.

Xiyicheng absorbed a portion; Chen State's elite absorbed a portion.

Jiang Su absorbed a portion.

Their tactics, the Central Plains' tactics, were total annihilation.

The Great Khan gripped his weapon, his long spear stained with blood—blood soaked into it, dried, then soaked again; he looked at the warriors still following him, his face filled with complex emotion.

"Hah... We've reached the end."

"Comrades, I never imagined we'd meet such a final path and ending."

The Great Khan gripped his weapon, then knelt on one knee; the aged divine general bowed his head. Around him, the fierce generals, ten-thousand-commanders, and thousand-commanders were stirred—they all knelt on the ground, heads bowed, weeping.

The wind blew, lifting his white hair slightly, and he said:

"It has come to this—we can no longer promise cattle, sheep, and pastures as before. All I can say is: in this battle, I will fight alongside you until the end. Let us die here."

All the generals around him responded.

The Great Khan wiped his face and laughed loudly: "Ahahaha, rise up, rise up! What kind of scene is this?!" He helped the surrounding generals to their feet, and they mounted their warhorses.

The last cavalry gathered behind him; they drew a deep breath, gazing ahead—the sun had risen. What awaited them was no longer merely heavy cavalry, but a combined force of heavy shield infantry and cavalry.

Amidst the steady, grim tread of footsteps, blades and spears stood like a forest pointing to the heavens, crimson banners stretched endlessly, fluttering in the wind—this was the Fire Qilin Army's might.

The heavy cavalry advancing slowly was Xiyicheng.

Behind them, the Tiger Man cavalry surged forth, their banners black as ink, embroidered with azure dragons, whipping wildly in the wind, proclaiming their presence—fierce, murderous martial energy surged into the sky.

The Divine General Jiang Su.

The Qin with Fire Qilin pattern, the Ying with Azure Dragon pattern, the Chen with double-winged tiger.

The three banners of the Central Plains were planted here, pointing at the sky like long spears, their fierce martial momentum gathered together. No one knew how many years it had been since the great armies of the Central Plains had once again converged into one.

The Great Khan took a deep breath and laughed heartily: "Hahahaha!"

"Good, good, good!"

The weapon in his hand pointed forward, at the great army that had completely sealed off every road and every chance of life, yet he still let out a roar and said:

"You all, come at me together!"

He led his final cavalry in a charge, but the three armies all led off by using mechanical arts against the enemy. The Central Plains' heavy cavalry's horsemanship and mounted archery could not match the grassland's elite, but the Mohist mechanical arts of the Central Plains compensated for this problem very well.

The Great Khan breathed in great gulps, charging forward through countless arrows and crossbow bolts.

The thundering of warhorses, screams, the smell of blood rose up. Warm sunlight spilled down upon this place, and the dust kicked up carried the familiar earthy scent.

The Great Khan no longer concerned himself with anything else.

Just as he had deduced before: if, while he was still alive, he could not split apart the Central Plains that were already enemies to each other and torn by internal strife, then once the Central Plains were unified and he was dead, the grasslands would be even less a match for them.

He was unwilling to accept that inevitable doom, so he exerted every ounce of strength to gamble for a chance.

It was only that the Central Plains, already split and facing off against each other, would at this moment unite against the foreign enemy.

He had lost, but he did not regret it.

An easy destruction within stable peace, or a magnificent exit after giving everything one had.

Make a choice, rush toward the choice, pay the price for the choice.

Nothing more than that.

"Kill!!!!"

The Great Khan's roar exploded outward. He brandished his war-spear, his Dharma Idol and divine weapon pushed to the utmost, charging forward continuously. At some unknown moment, the thirty-plus Captains by his side had already vanished; at some unknown moment, his divine steed had perished.

By the time he came back to his senses, he was already galloping across the earth.

His war-boots were also shattered by the tearing force of the impact, and he trampled the earth barefoot.

His blood surging, just like in his youth, a poor herder of cattle, stepping on the soft earth. The roar of his voice, the surging of his blood—he looked at those banners, and at the very end charged straight toward the three great banners of 【Qin】, 【Ying】, and 【Chen】.

Giving everything he had—even if it was a fight to the death—he would inflict damage on his opponents. Even if it meant dying, even if it meant shattering his Dharma Idol, burning his destiny, he would drag them down together into the Avici Hell.

The Great Khan's Dharma Idol merged with his destiny, and between heaven and earth, wind and clouds rose in fury.

An unprecedentedly enormous Dharma Idol raised its head and roared; the layered clouds in the sky shattered, transforming into layer upon layer of vortexes, stacking up and surging toward the heights, as if, set off by the density of these clouds, the already roiling omen of destiny had become visible to the naked eye.

Beneath the 【Ying】 banner, a towering divine general in golden armor, his Dharma Idol, surged skyward; around his body coiled the traces of an azure dragon, powerful, solemn, unmatched in the world.

Beneath the 【Qin】 banner, dragons and tigers roared, faintly showing a tendency to converge into a single divine dragon, carrying the resolve to tear apart the chaotic age.

Beneath the 【Chen】 banner, an ink-colored one-horned coiling dragon spiraled, cold and brutal, yet still struggling out from the abyss, carrying an indescribable fierce intensity.

The heavens hung inverted, the gray wolf ran and dragons roared. Beneath the great banners, three dragons converged, softly growling and roaring—this scene was almost despairing, yet magnificent. The Great Khan laughed aloud, raised his divine weapon, bared his chest, and yet gathered his momentum, slashing down with all his might.

He offered his own life to the grasslands, merging the destiny of the grasslands with his Dharma Idol, then completely transforming into one tragic strike, intending to take these three dragons away with him.

The twang of the bowstring was faint.

Like the wind kissing a flower goodbye.

A bolt of light, like a meteor, swept across the vault of heaven, then precisely pierced into the Great Khan's back. That Dharma Idol, pushed to its utmost, froze at this moment—a divine general who knew his own fate yet still fought with everything he had would naturally not guard his back.

Li Guanyi raised his gaze and looked, and saw atop a peak of the Five-Lotus Pool volcano a tall man in armor, holding a divine bow in his hand, with a gourd of wine hanging at his waist.

Li Guanyi had never seen him, but immediately realized who he was.

The number one divine archer under heaven, a top-five famed general—Gao Xiang.

With just this one arrow, piercing across that vast distance, it shot through the convergence of the Great Khan's Dharma Idol and destiny. The destiny scattered like dust. The Great Khan was startled, still wanting to fight with everything he had, but the next moment, he heard the sound of weapons tearing through the air.

A war-halberd, a long spear.

The two strongest divine generals of the present age struck almost simultaneously.

Their weapons, crossing each other, shattered the Great Khan's divine weapon.

Then, one from the left and one from the right, they simultaneously pierced through the Great Khan's chest, tearing apart his armor, and thrust out from his broad back. The blade edges were first snow-white, then instantly.

The great banners of Qin and Ying fluttered and rolled, like a dream from which one could never wake.

Li Guanyi and Jiang Su were nearly standing shoulder to shoulder.

The two struck at the same time—this was not meant to humiliate, but simply, at the very end, a farewell to a worthy enemy general.

Jiuli Bingzhu.

Divine Spear—Silence.

The Great Khan felt the sensation of his chest being torn apart. He wanted to keep pressing forward, but in the end he could not. Two weapons had pierced through him. The Great Khan felt his strength gradually fading along with the gushing of fresh blood, and his vision grew dim.

He murmured: "What a pity, what a pity… still couldn't, succeed."

"Divine generals of the Central Plains, your art of war is truly loathsome."

"The generational hatred between the grasslands and the Central Plains—does it end here, at this moment?"

"Truly, wretched…"

Qin Wang said slowly: "The common folk of the grasslands will live on; after the age of peace, on this stretch of land, new people will still go on living—only, they will no longer need to slaughter each other."

The Great Khan raised both hands, gripped the two divine weapons, and then slowly straightened up:

"Peace—such a dream, it sounds like talking nonsense. As long as there are people under heaven, there will be disputes; as long as there are disputes, there will be conflicts; there will be blades and spears, there will be war."

"The Central Plains have not yet truly been unified."

"How could there possibly be an era of peace under a unified heaven?"

"Qin Wang, at your age, do you still dream?"

The wind by his ears came, blood gushed out, the hissing sound seemed to echo directly to the depths of his heart—like the wind that came rushing head-on in his poor youth, riding a horse across the grasslands. The Great Khan's vision slowly faded into darkness: "Only…"

"Ten years from now, will flowers still bloom here? Heh…"

"Peace—that too, isn't bad."

"Then you, go on and show me… the peace you speak of."

The Great Khan's power surged violently, and he nearly made those two divine weapons tremble fiercely, letting both Li Guanyi and Jiang Su feel the explosive force in that instant; the two instinctively struck out, piercing the Great Khan's body even more thoroughly.

The latter seemed to have lost his last strength, collapsing heavily; the foremost divine general of the Turks in five hundred years, who had grown from a cattle-herding nomad into the Great Khan who unified the grasslands, had finally died in battle.

Killed under the full encirclement of the Central Plains.

Killed by the joint strike of the Number One divine general and the Number Two divine general under heaven.

The Divine Spear fell silent; Jiuli Bingzhu pierced into the Great Khan's body, yet also seemed to prop up his frame. The Khan of the Turks died beneath this encirclement whose outcome was destined. The Central Plains' punitive expedition outward, the prelude before the war to unify the realm, drew its curtain.

And at this moment, Qin Wang and the Army God—these two divine generals who had nearly stood shoulder to shoulder.

Simultaneously gripped their weapons, their gazes falling upon each other.

A chilling killing intent rose violently.

?? Begging for monthly tickets, friends

? (Routine completely collapsed) (Exploded, exploded)

? (Control the routine, control the routine)