Chapter 540

The news that the Emperor of Ying had mobilized a million troops and surged forward shook the entire world, dispelling the unease and disorientation brought by the rumor that Chi Emperor Ji Zichang's lineage was about to be obliterated.

The mighty, unrivaled Emperor of Ying had placed everything he possessed upon the chessboard.

I no longer care for the rear, I no longer care for my life.

Come, let us fight!

Yet he pulled the entire world into his own rhythm.

From the northern frontier of the Turkic steppes as the opening strike, the martial legend General Jiang Su, after uniting the nation's fortune and stepping forward, led fifty thousand battle troops like a sharp blade charging ahead.

The portion where Tiance Prefecture bordered Ying State on the opposite end.

Jiang Wuxiang, leading the Fifth Martial Legend General Yuwen Lie, the Seventh Martial Legend General He Ruo Qinhu, and the Tenth Martial Legend General Qin Yulong, also brought forth fifty thousand battle troops in a brutal assault—this was an army force that would crush the Fire Qilin Army.

Two martial legends, one upright and unquestionably the supreme warrior of the battlefield.

The other, commanding eight centuries of heavenly fortune, though his lifespan was surely short, still possessed unextinguished ambition that drove his body—still undeniably powerful, nearly embodying the collective ambitions of emperors and generals over the past eight hundred years, the old era.

One from above, one from below, tearing toward each other.

The Fire Qilin Army had no martial legend-level warlords.

The Fire Qilin Army had only fifty thousand combat troops.

The Fire Qilin Army's logistics and grain supplies could no longer sustain such a massive battle at this moment.

According to Tiance Prefecture's strategic calculations, the probability of victory in this battle was only twenty percent.

When only two forces remained vying for the realm, many stratagems, schemes, and diplomatic maneuvers lost their meaning—what mattered now was merely timing, and Jiang Su's timing was exquisitely unmatched.

The Fire Qilin Army had only recently broken Chen State, with the bulk of its forces still stationed toward Chen.

They had originally been mutually restraining Jiang Su.

But now, Jiang Wuxiang took a desperate gamble, forcibly consuming and harnessing the ancient era's fortune—like a blazing poison—smashing through the passes, reaching a higher realm, then dragging his broken body along with all other reserves of Ying State.

He intended to plunge together with the Fire Qilin Army into the abyss!

Surging toward the rear of the Fire Qilin Army.

Jiang Wuxiang used the sons and heirs of the central plains' noble families, even Ying State's own aristocratic clans, their private troops, portions of armies swayed by these great families, and the Turkic tribes seized by Jiang Su as his vanguard.

Or rather, as expendable lives.

Thus he gathered a terrifying fifty-thousand-strong force.

The southern forces could not possibly resist the assault of fifty thousand troops led by a martial legend and two peak ninth-tier generals, plus an eighth-tier general—unless troops from Chen State were recalled.

And if those troops were recalled,

it meant General Jiang Su would directly tear through Chen State from above, advancing unimpeded without a single obstacle.

Double the manpower, three centuries of national longevity, Jiang Wuxiang's decades of terrifying logistical reserves, and a sovereign personally becoming the spearhead—these combined to create the possibility of swiftly conquering the realm.

This emperor had staked everything upon the battlefield.

Even now, Li Guanyi remained in the Jiangzhou region.

The auspicious divine eagle of the steppes spread its wings in the sky, relaying news of the forward deployment of the armies; though the vastness of the land made troop movements difficult and neither side could arrive within one or two days, under these open conditions, the slow-approaching, overwhelming momentum still carried a terrifying, heart-shaking pressure.

This was not a battlefield of small-scale ambushes.

This was a grand, righteous war.

Hold firm with the orthodox, win with the unexpected.

Even the most unparalleled stratagem could not repel a million men with a single person.

The foundation of winning with the unexpected rests upon holding firm with the orthodox.

This is a national war!

For days without sleep, Yan Daiqing's eyes had turned red; his office was strewn with scrolls upon scrolls of juandejuan Sect records, everywhere, surrounded by many students and young officials helping tally them.

But no matter how they counted, the reserves of Qin Wang—who had risen from a wandering bandit leader and continuously expanded his territory through endless warfare—could not possibly sustain the logistical demands of a war for the realm after three consecutive battles.

There was not enough grain.

"Find a way, keep finding a way… how can we gather it all…"

Yan Daiqing's breathing was ragged; he had not rested for days.

He stared fixedly at the inked characters; the students and officials were equally tense—Ying State's move had been utterly sudden, and with it, they had unleashed their entire nation's strength, a surge as catastrophic as mountains collapsing and earth splitting.

Just as Yan Daiqing was about to speak, his neck suddenly ached; he turned, opened his mouth, then collapsed, his collar seized by a gentle young man—Wen Qingyu said: "Days without sleep or rest—your cultivation, even if you don't die in this battle,"

"will drain your spirit, costing you ten years of life…"

He dragged Yan Daiqing aside and sat down calmly, picking up paper and brush.

The other young people stared at him in stunned silence.

Wen Qingyu spoke without ceremony: "Don't worry, you—keep going."

The officials: "…………"

………………

On the rooftop, General Xue Shen sat with arms folded behind his head, gazing at the sky, a blade of grass between his teeth: "Tsk, Jiang Su's tactics have some substance."

"No wonder back when we faced Xiyicheng and Beicheng, this old man curled up like a turtle—I thought Jiang Su had lost his courage, but turns out he was biding his time, waiting to unleash all his reserves at once."

"Tsk tsk tsk, still as a mountain."

"Moving like thunder."

"Exactly so."

"Three centuries of the Martial God—his basic perception and decisiveness have some weight."

Master Siming sighed and reminded him: "Old Xue, he's at least two hundred years younger than you."

General Xue Shen ignored him, just gazing blankly at the sky. Master Siming rose, sat beside him, and after a long silence, asked: "Can you stop Jiang Wuxiang?"

General Xue Shen replied: "I cannot."

"Beside him are Yuwen Lie, that Bai Hu, He Ruo Qinhu, and Qin Yulong, slightly weaker."

"If I go up myself, the odds are I'll be smashed into wooden blocks in a single fight."

General Xue Shen gazed at the sky, chewing on a weed in his mouth, and said: "Military strategy isn't actually that complicated when you get down to it. In the end, it's just this: when you and your opponent clash, always make sure you hold the advantage."

"Jiang Su has no intention of winning by stratagem at all."

"That old rascal is planning to fight a hard, grinding battle."

"Hey, don't give me that look. A military man thinks of defeat before he thinks of victory. Think about it — could Yue Qianfeng beat Yuwen Lie? Could he beat He Ruo Qinhu?"

Old Master Siming's face wore a bitter expression.

"Then he'd have to cough up three dou and three sheng of blood."

General Xue Shen's tone was calm as he said:

"Jiang Su, a Martial Dao Legend, has moreover devoured the fortune of the realm. The fortune of an entire nation requires Li Guanyi as the core, paired with at least another top-ten general to hold the line, only then might it be possible to pay the price of one's vitality to complete a delay."

"But delay what?"

"Delay defeating Jiang Wanxiang on another front?"

Old Master Siming propped his chin on both hands and let out a long sigh.

Worry upon worry.

Old Master Siming had once run off to observe the qi as well — damn near got his eyes blinded by the flash.

Jiang Wanxiang's aura at this moment was clearly at the Martial Dao Legend level. One could faintly see an azure dragon soaring into the heavens, its aura vast and mighty, its entire body stained with black clouds and a sea of blood — the sight alone was enough to terrify one to death.

After seeing it, Old Master Siming's head buzzed.

To tell the truth, even an Emperor who'd been dead for three days, the half-breath he hadn't yet exhaled, was in better shape than Jiang Wanxiang's current state.

Like this, and he still won't die?!

Like this, and he can still drag his body, wrapped in the threads of fortune, onto the battlefield?!

What kind of monster is this?

In this era, there are actually more than one of these monsters?!

In an instant, Old Master Siming understood: Jiang Wanxiang was merely using a surge of will to drive his body, to complete the last great battle of his life. A sovereign who embraces a heart certain of death — that is especially terrifying.

General Xue Shen sat up at once, stretched out his fingers, and began counting on them:

"The most suitable person to intercept Jiang Su, apart from Li Guanyi, still needs someone else."

"It must be at least Nine Heavens. Li Zhaowen, Yue Qianfeng going up — on a battlefield like that, death is almost certain. I, I'm in Jiangnan and simply can't make it in time. The most suitable one is Yue Pengwu."

"Yue Pengwu and Li Guanyi, joining forces, can borrow your Zhenbei Pass of back then."

"Barely hold back Jiang Su's military edge."

"On our side, those who can still fight are only me, Yue Qianfeng, Li Zhaowen. The enemy's lineup is: Jiang Wanxiang at the Martial Dao Legend level, Yuwen Lie, He Ruo Qinhu." As General Xue Shen spoke, he casually broke off a piece of tile and used its sharp edge to sketch a simple standoff diagram on another spot.

"Both I and that Jiang Wanxiang don't know when we'll just drop dead."

"But that old rascal carries eight hundred years of human hearts' desires, twisted dark things, fortune vast and mighty. I think the lingering fortune of the Red Emperor of my generation is in there too — just thinking about it makes my scalp tingle, and feel a bit excited."

"Tsk tsk tsk."

Old Master Siming and the old Dark Turtle had been sitting one on each side, one squatting and one lying flat, waiting to see what brilliant insight this number-one Divine General of five hundred years ago had on the current situation. They never expected General Xue Shen to say something like this.

But their minds worked too fast — by the time they processed what they'd just heard, it was already a bit late.

Both the man and the turtle's faces showed a stunned expression.

They looked up.

Old Master Siming: "Huh???"

Old Dark Turtle: "Huh???"

A trace of sheepishness crossed General Xue Shen's face.

Even the turtle didn't know what kind of technical trick Elder Guan Shier had cooked up.

To actually read such a delicate change on that wooden, block-like face.

General Xue Shen was a bit embarrassed, but said with great boldness and frankness:

"Back in those days, I'd been wanting to beat him up."

"That blockhead charging so far ahead, letting himself get surrounded by the Turks — every time he held forth up top, Chen Baxian and I would be down below muttering and cursing him as a damn fool. On the surface, the two of us would put on a show of 'His Majesty is right,' but in private we both thought he wasn't all that."

"Chen Baxian suddenly had an epiphany back then: if this waterlogged-brain fellow could be Emperor, then his own son had to be stronger than this kid. If this guy could become the Red Emperor, there's no reason he himself couldn't."

"If it had been the aura of the First Generation Red Emperor back then, Chen Baxian wouldn't have harbored such thoughts."

"Just thinking about being able to, across several hundred years, openly beat the stuffing out of that generation's Red Emperor's fortune — I feel myself getting a bit excited."

Old Master Siming: "………………"

"Ah, well, General, as long as you're happy."

"So, you can win?"

"Of course I can't win."

General Xue Shen rolled his eyes and said lazily: "Use that brain you've had for so many years and think — I'm just this wooden block, only what's left of Zhang Ziyong, the one among Martial Dao Legends least suited to slaughter, plus one-third of the vitality of a single arm."

"To hold back a sovereign of a nation who has resolved to pay with his life and rides the torrent of eight hundred years of fortune — is it that you think too highly of Zhang Ziyong's severed arm, or that you think too little of this vast world and the tangled hearts of eight hundred years of men?"

Old Master Siming fell silent.

General Xue Shen traced marks on the tile, his tone calm, and said: "Li Guanyi and Yue Pengwu can hold back Jiang Su, bolstered by the nation's fortune, for a time, but not for long. If it drags on, Li Guanyi and Yue Pengwu will die."

"This time, it's no longer like before. There's no great momentum, nothing to pin down the God of War — because that 'weak point' that always made him withdraw in the past is no longer a weak point."

"An army of sorrow must win. At this moment, Jiang Su knows Jiang Wanxiang's days are numbered and seeks only one battle, one victory. What kind of power might he unleash?"

"I can hold back Jiang Wanxiang for a time, but not long."

"Tell me — is it Eight Heavens Li Zhaowen surviving under the spear-tip of Yuwen Lie at the peak of Nine Heavens, or Eight Heavens Yue Qianfeng defeating the former world's fourth-ranked He Ruo Qinhu?"

"Not to mention there's still Qin Yulong, though Qin Yulong is easier to deal with — Chen Wenmian and Xiao Wuliang joining forces can hold him down one way or another."

"Cruel as it is to say."

"For the military strategist, in the end, it is merely a trade of pieces."

"Only this time, famed generals, a great army, logistics."

"All are at a disadvantage…"

"Trading pieces, how helpless."

General Xue Shen's expression settled, carrying a calm assessment, but in the end still a trace of regret, saying: "If we had waited another ten years, or even just five, the logistics and the great army would not have been a problem, and Li Guanyi would surely have broken through to the Martial Dao Legend."

"In that case, not to mention a sure victory, at the very least we would possess the strength to fight one battle, but at this moment—"

Master Siming sighed: "How underhanded."

General Xue Shen laughed at him, saying: "What's underhanded or not, old fellow? On the battlefield, only the final victor has the right to speak. Actually, it's quite simple—this kind of situation, you and I can both see it; how could Jiang Su fail to read it?"

"Even Jiang Wanxiang and Jiang Su know that the longer they delay, the less chance they have. At this moment, fighting with no regard for anything is their greatest opportunity."

"We want to drag things out to the later stage."

"They pursue a swift and decisive victory."

"Li Guanyi excels at unorthodox strategies, so they give him not the slightest space to employ them. In the end, it's nothing more than fighting in a way that targets the opponent."

Master Siming's face was troubled; he stretched out his palm and vigorously rubbed his cheeks, looked up at the sky, listened to the voices and discussions carried on the wind, and said softly: "Is there really no chance left?"

General Xue Shen said: "There is."

"Everything under heaven holds hope, but it is very small…"

Master Siming was silent for a long while. He had watched these young people reach where they were today, only to see that when this flame rose, it encountered the most powerful suppression; still unwilling to accept it, he said:

"But clearly the situation is excellent, clearly so long as we continue, we can succeed."

General Xue Shen, however, was extremely carefree, and laughed, saying:

"Since ancient times, on the annals of history, those failed heroes and champions—at the height of their glory, did they not also possess a spirit to swallow the heavens? Even Jiang Wanxiang, several years ago, did he not also have the foundation to annex the four directions?"

"The cruelty of history lies precisely here."

He quietly gazed at the grand situation sketched out with roof tiles, as if his gaze had already pierced through the vast sky and earth, had already traveled to the four corners, had already seen the God of War Jiang Su take yet another step beyond the Martial Dao Legend.

He saw Jiang Wanxiang, who commanded eight hundred years of majestic fortune, with three top-tier Divine Generals at his side; he saw the Divine Generals of the Fire Qilin Army around Jiangzhou city. In truth, General Xue Shen still had words left unsaid.

A Divine General too needs to command a great army to possess true might.

In the lands of Jiangnan, even with a Divine General.

There is simply no military momentum capable of matching an army of five hundred thousand.

Under such circumstances, even he would find it difficult to overcome Yuwen Lie.

Yuwen Lie, He Ruo Qinhu commanding such military momentum is enough to suppress and punish Zhang Ziyong, this Martial Dao Legend. At this moment, their momentum fierce and valiant as they come, they are surely ill-intentioned in the extreme. And the same analysis of the situation was also taking place with Li Guanyi and Yue Pengwu.

These famed generals all fell silent, feeling a surging grand momentum crash down upon them.

They had all, either directly or indirectly, crossed swords with the God of War Jiang Su, so they understood that God of War's terror and strength. To speak bluntly, every previous forced retreat by Jiang Su was a retreat on the level of grand momentum.

On the battlefield, he had never been defeated.

General Yue Qianfeng was silent; Li Zhao Wen stroked his long spear.

Yue Pengwu had not seen Li Guanyi.

Li Guanyi stood quietly in the courtyard. Qin Wang wore a dark-patterned blue robe, holding Chang Ning'er, who was just a little over two years old, in his arms, watching the falling leaves flutter in the June sunlight. Even the little Fire Qilin was not greedy for food.

Casting the Cauldron.

Strengthening the Turkic Cauldron of the grasslands.

Then gathering the metal of Southern Chen, forging a new cauldron. Yet, just as Li Guanyi had thought when collecting materials for the cauldrons before, he had forged the fifth of the Nine Cauldrons, but the forging of these Nine Cauldrons only deepened his foundation; it did not bring about a breakthrough.

In three hundred years, only a handful had reached the Martial Dao Legend.

How many heroes and champions, how many peerless geniuses, fought and galloped across the world, seeking nothing more than this breakthrough opportunity. Li Guanyi, blessed with fortune, only matched the lifetime cultivation foundation of the Great Khan.

Only he himself Can Break Through the Realm.

The Martial Dao Legend—this barrier, forging a path unprecedented in history—can no longer be achieved by relying on external objects. Li Guanyi looked at the two Fire Qilin Cauldrons before him, his expression calm.

When you encounter the greatest predicament, a storm enough to raise winds and waves, enough to destroy all your accumulations and gains, and your former reliance can no longer help you break through the predicament, what should you do at this moment?

Qin Wang was quiet for a long while.

Then he stretched out his hand and grasped that Jiuli divine weapon.

His fingers slowly traced across the dark-gold blade, feeling a cold, sharp sensation, then gripped the weapon. His brow was serene. The Fire Qilin reacted, saying: "…You couldn't break through to Guanyi, and you still want to go…"

The Fire Qilin's voice lowered: "To intercept Jiang Su?"

Li Guanyi said softly: "If I don't go, who else can?"

"I borrowed the Nine Provinces Cauldrons, and in just ten years, my Martial Dao climbed. But I also walked my own path, fought across the land, clashed with countless powerful foes. The things a man must do have never changed."

Chang Ning'er curiously sized up the Fire Qilin over there, stretching out her little hand again and again trying to pet the cat, calling out: "Big kitty, big kitty."

In her world.

Although it had restrained its true form, the Fire Qilin, still not much smaller than herself, was truly a big kitty. But the Fire Qilin was unwilling to be petted by this little girl, and precisely dodged her palm.

Li Guanyi's left arm held Chang Ning'er, his right hand gripped the Jiuli divine weapon of metal, and he paced forward. The Young Lady stood beneath the tree; upon seeing Li Guanyi, a ripple of pain surfaced in Xue Shuangtao's eyes.

"Young Lady, I'll leave Ning'er in your care for now."

Li Guanyi handed Chang Ning to Xue Shuangtao's arms, gripping his weapon. Xue Shuangtao said nothing, only held the child. Chang Ning'er was very bold and did not mind being held by this beautiful big sister, only curiously asking: "Where is godfather going?!"

Li Guanyi reached out and rubbed the little girl's hair.

Chang Ning'er seemed to enjoy it greatly, squinting her eyes and lifting her head to nuzzle against his palm.

Li Guanyi answered: "I'm going to find your father."

Chang Ning'er's eyes lit up at once, and she said: "Godfather is so amazing!"

Li Guanyi laughed long and loud. He gripped the Jiuli divine weapon of metal in his hand. The Nine Provinces Cauldrons could not aid him, could not let him face the number one Divine General at the Martial Dao Legend level, let alone face Jiang Su, who on this foundation had taken yet another step and was entwined with a nation's fortune.

But whether one can, and whether one does, are two different things.

Without the aid of the Nine Provinces Cauldrons, he is still Li Guanyi.

Likewise.

Qin Wang!

Li Guanyi stepped forward, calm and composed.

The qilin pattern on his sleeve rolled and surged, and as he walked forward with composure toward certain death, that unshakable pass cracked—just a thread at first—the crack of a martial legend, slowly widening.

Only when you need no external force, only when you are yourself.

Can you truly possess the capacity to command such a being.

General Yue Qianfeng, Yue Pengwu, and others waited in silence; seeing Qin Wang emerge, they sensed the biting aura radiating from him, and fell still. Li Guanyi said: "Deploy the troops—General Yue, accompany me to Beicheng to confront Jiang Su."

"The rest of you, lead the armies by waterway to reinforce Jiangnan."

"The world is vast, yet at this moment, we…"

Qin Wang said:

"One step—no retreat!"

The generals' eyes held steady resolve, answering in unison.

"Yes!"

The Fire Qilin Army reacted swiftly, striving to intercept the two; at this moment, the old tactic of abandoning Jiang Su and Jiang Wanxiang to pierce straight through their center into Ying State no longer worked.

The sovereign has stepped forth—this is now a clash of blades.

Both sides are resolved to fight to the death.

The Emperor of Ying State, as he had told Gongyang Su Wang, had thrown every ounce of his strength into mobilizing the old powers—the ancestral wealth of the great clans—and the famed generals surged like shattered stones caught in a tidal wave, roaring toward Jiangnan.

Yuwen Lie, He Ruo Qinhu, and Qin Yulong stood at his side.

The Emperor of Ying State's strategy was clear, with not the slightest concealment.

Yet it was so openly righteous that it left no room for compromise—he would unleash all the weight of the old world, vast and overwhelming, to use Qin Wang's power to shatter the accumulated decay of the past.

He would use those remnants of the old world—the clans, the decay, the twisted, shadowed things lurking behind eight hundred years of grandeur—to snap Qin Wang, this sharp blade, in two!

He was a sovereign-hero who sought to crush the past and forge a new era of peace, yet also a hero desperate for victory, utterly unwilling to serve as a stepping stone for another, and a father who loved his child.

He would use this single battle to shatter both Qin Wang and the old forces together.

Leaving the radiant future of peace to his own child.

What were they to do?

He thought.

They would crush the flame of the new age; they would stir the eight-hundred-year legacy of the old era into a furious dragon, then use the roar of this dragon—the dying strength of an ancient beast—to kill the still-awakening Fire Qilin.

Base, valiant, ruthless, ugly, yet heroic and fierce.

For victory!

This is the rule of court and battlefield.

This is the grandeur of emperors and generals, the magnificence of eight hundred years.

It is heroic grandeur—choosing the most likely path to victory. This eight-hundred-year torrent of court, this unyielding might of generations of sovereigns, from emperor to ministers, from clans to court to battlefield—these lords, this boundless fortune, majestic and vast.

Like a tide, like thunder, like the turbid, vast desires of eight hundred years of human hearts—who could stand against it? So openly, so majestically, they charged forward—and thus the world's heroes clashed, the world's grandeur, the emperor's boldness.

Yet there was a change—before this heroic, magnificent eight-hundred-year court-world.

Someone stood in the way.

A green robe flaring, a heart full of martial freedom.

At last, the martial spirit of the rivers and lakes barred the emperor's aura!

There was this one sword.

From Jiangnan.

? Please support the Divine Work Ranking Event, friends~

? Click the top-left corner of Qidian