Chapter 543: The Common Heroes of the Realm, Rising and Falling

Jiang Wanxiang died, but Yuwen Lie, He Ruo Qinhu, and Qin Yulong concealed his death, continuing to lead the army toward the southern border as if the Great Emperor of Ying still lived, their troops calm yet surging with resolve.

The three divine generals endured their inner pain and resentment, yet maintained outwardly calm and composed postures to sustain troop morale and the grand momentum.

And on that city where Li Guanyi had once fought Jiang Su.

Xue Shen's automaton was clad in a general-grade armor; he extended his hand, clenched it, sensing the surge of his own power, while beside him, Guan Shier, hair disheveled, adjusted Xue Shen's mechanical arm.

"This armor is forged primarily from materials sufficient to craft mystery weapons and divine weapons, combining resilience and hardness while allowing internal Qi to flow efficiently and reducing consumption."

"The last vestige of life-force from that Longevity Guest has been extracted."

"It has been channeled into your body—it can sustain a Master-level battlefield for an entire campaign, but if you output power at the Grand Master level, it may last only half a battle."

"And if you recklessly unleash those few deathblow techniques, the residual life-force in the Green Robe Guest's arm will be utterly depleted within a few strikes."

Guan Shier, adjusting Xue Shen's mechanical armor, said:

"The martial legends truly are martial legends."

"That Longevity Guest had only one arm left, yet after six or seven years, still possessed such terrifying power—enough to support a divine general like you to step onto the final battlefield. Truly unimaginable."

"Just how strong was this Green Robe Longevity Guest in his prime?"

Guan Shier, this Mohist master skilled in mechanism arts, felt that martial experts above the Master level—though one in ten thousand, or even one in a hundred thousand—still exceeded his rational understanding.

Especially over the past few hundred years, one might even say:

Over the past few thousand years, martial arts had continuously flourished, yet the martial legends that emerged only in the last three centuries were all monsters.

What is this—ruling a battlefield with utter dominance? What is this—a single longsword in hand daring to overturn heaven and earth? What is this—limitless life-force, flesh and blood reborn?

What the hell is this?!

Monsters. Monsters.

My head aches.

Yet Guan Shier raised his head, watching this five-hundred-year-old mummy now hopping about, flexing his wrists, and felt his common sense being trampled and forged once again—stronger than before.

Forget it, forget it. Get used to it.

Guan Shier fully readjusted the mechanical armor and said: "In any case, it's up to you now, General Xue Shen. What comes after, we mere Mohist mechanists lack your strength—we can only leave it to you all."

Xue Shen replied lazily: "Thank you."

"Next time, I'll buy you a drink."

Guan Shier snapped: "You say that every time! When, exactly?!"

Xue Shen replied with unshakable confidence: "Next time, for sure."

Guan Shier was helpless—often so infuriated he wanted to kick this fellow straight in his mechanical frame, yet the frame was his own creation; no Mohist mechanist would destroy his own work.

Moreover, it's made of mystery weapon material.

Guan Shier thought, if he kicked it, his own foot would probably break first.

The Mohist mechanist grumbled as he left; Xue Shen watched him with a smile, then turned to gaze at the distant sky—martial energy surged heavenward as Ying's fifty thousand troops surged forward, while Jiangnan's forces were insufficient.

Even though General Yue Qianfeng, Li Zhao Wen, and others had led part of their army back via the swift waterways, they still could not match fifty thousand troops; fortunately, the Array Chief was holding Sheng Wei and continuously reinforcing the city's defensive array.

With barely half the troops, alongside famed generals and arrays:

Relying on the city walls, they would fight to the death against the enemy.

One army above, one army below.

Li Guanyi and Yue Pengwu faced the Divine General Jiang Su.

Meanwhile, Xue Shen, General Yue Qianfeng, Li Zhao Wen, Chen Wenmian, Xiao Wuliang, Duan Qingyu, and other famed generals, relying on the city, stood opposed to Jiang Wanxiang—who had burned his own fortune and lifespan to enter the realm of martial legend, the true top ten of the realm, even a constant top five: Yuwen Lie and He Ruo Qinhu.

Added to them was another top-ten general: Qin Yulong.

Qin Yulong could be mentioned in the same breath as General Yue Qianfeng.

Xue Shen would find a way to stall Jiang Wanxiang, while all other famed generals had one goal: use the overwhelming tide of troops to stall the remaining three generals, trading blows evenly.

Leveraging the arrays and defensive strengths of the Array Chief, Sheng Wei, and Master Siming, they would minimize the disadvantage of inferior numbers.

Xue Shen pressed both hands against the city wall, gazing far off: "Two armies, two fronts of slaughter—only one thought matters: whoever holds firm, who breaks first, who shows fatigue or weakness, will lose."

He paused, then asked: "How is the Sword God faring, alone?"

Master Siming gazed far off; he remained silent for a long while, then shook his head: "Too chaotic."

For hundreds of years, as the end drew near, the accumulated, pent-up grand momentum grew ever more terrifying, powerful, and surging. In Master Siming's eyes, the aura of heroes, the aura of kings, the grim martial ferocity of the army, the fierce battle spirit of generals, the unrestrained spirit of the martial world, the peerless sword intent—

These grand auras, rarely seen in times of peace,

Rose like dragons into the sky, colliding and entangling, bursting with dazzling light, tearing and crashing, emitting shrieks and roars—here, it felt as if eight hundred years of destiny had reached its final moment.

Even Master Siming, this reclusive Yin-Yang master of the highest order, could no longer discern clearly.

Sword qi still flowed through the heavens, yet martial ferocity and royal majesty remained—within the Yin-Yang master's sight, these energies lingered long in the sky, indistinguishable in superiority.

"Is that so?"

Xue Shen smiled: "Then we must rely on our weapons to determine superiority, to test the truth."

"Still, I envy the Sword God—throughout his life, everything he did flowed from his inner sharpness. What a swordsman, what a man—living solely for himself, ha, free and unbound. It must make someone else suffer."

Master Siming, just a little melancholy, grinned.

Though inwardly he grumbled: Is this general's tongue dipped in poison?

Such a sharp, venomous mouth.

Is that why he, the first divine general five hundred years ago, managed to die peacefully?

Though Xue Shen didn't name anyone, Master Siming and the Old Tortoise instinctively turned their heads—toward the silver-haired man, who lifted his gaze and glared back, displeased and uncivil:

"What are you looking at?!"

Master Siming withdrew his gaze.

Eyes on nose, nose on heart, face unchanged: "Nothing."

The Old Tortoise kept his eyes closed: "Wasn't looking at you."

The old black tortoise kept its eyes closed because it couldn't open them and lie outright.

This is an ancient palindrome joke.

Xue Shen, taking the initiative to narrate, stroked his steel chin and said:

"It's truly, uh, hard not to laugh."

"Hard not to laugh."

Master Siming shivered.

The silver-haired whale-fisher twitched his forehead, gritted his teeth, and said: "Can you just stop telling that ancient, stale joke?!"

"Didn't Ye Buyi learn that from you?!"

Xue Shen stroked his chin, genuinely puzzled, and said: "Ye Buyi? That boy is resolute and solemn—I hold him in high regard, and I've indeed taught him some Wu Gong. But what stale joke?!"

Xue Shen puffed out his chest and lifted his head.

He slapped his chest with his palm and declared confidently: "In my time, that was a popular joke—every time Chen Baxian, that icy bastard, would burst out laughing."

The whale-fisher hurled the formation disc at him.

He couldn't help but laugh.

When a person is utterly speechless, they really do laugh.

He suddenly understood the Second Divine General from five hundred years ago.

Being the Second Under Heaven beneath Xue Shen's venomous tongue.

It was truly suffocating.

No wonder Chen Baxian spent his whole life trying to overthrow Xue Shen.

He cursed: "Your era was already over five hundred years ago—jokes that were popular then are now ancient dust."

Xue Shen said: "Ah, I see. I know my jokes are five hundred years old—but placing them beside today makes it seem like I can't tell past from present, which is a deliberate act of feigned ignorance—truly, it's…"

Master Siming turned pale with shock.

He snatched up the black tortoise.

With all his strength, he hurled it, using the tortoise's shell to block Xue Shen's mouth.

The old black tortoise: "???"

Master Siming's scalp sweated; he dodged the topic with a forced laugh: "Ha, ha ha! By the way, do you think the Master Jiankuang can stop Jiang Wanxiang and the others?!"

The whale-fisher fell silent and said: "... Jiang Wanxiang's army has arrived."

"But the Master Jiankuang hasn't returned."

His voice trailed off, but the unspoken meaning was clear—this formation master, who had always prided himself as the youngest Wu Dao legend, now felt a strange sense of defeat.

He and the Master Jiankuang were both Wu Dao legends.

Yet the old man's final display of aura clearly surpassed him.

As a man of supreme pride in the Wu Dao, admitting he'd been surpassed was a bitter, dispiriting feeling—but Xue Shen only laughed loudly: "Good! Such aura! In my time, I've seen many swordsmen."

"They all claimed to be heroes, but none matched Murong Longtu in grandeur."

"With this army arriving, in this chaotic world, we have no choice left."

Xue Shen gazed at the nearby Tiger Roaring Battle Spear, sensing the dark-gold divine weapon's hum, his expression growing calm and composed.

Yuwen Lie, He Ruo Qinhu, and Qin Yulong led their armies to the frontier's front.

Just as the deceased Jiang Wanxiang had arranged, they formed ranks around the elite remnants of the old Zhongzhou and Ying Kingdom aristocratic system, charging toward the Fire Qilin of Jiangnan.

An undeniable battlefield. An undeniable hard fight.

But Xue Shen sensed something amiss: "Yuwen Lie, He Ruo Qinhu, Qin Yulong—all are holding back in the rear? Their true elites haven't advanced?"

General Yue Qianfeng frowned: "So what?"

Xue Shen stroked his chin, thoughtful, and said:

"At this point, both sides have laid their cards on the table—this is a battle of depth, of entrenched camps and grinding warfare, with little room for maneuver. This isn't a feigned retreat. In military strategy, momentum is everything. Once your front line is shattered, it's nearly impossible to rally the spearhead again."

"The only possible reason they're starting like this is…"

"They intend to 【use another's blade to kill】."

General Yue Qianfeng said: "Use our blade to kill these vanguard troops?"

Xue Shen said: "And use their blade to exhaust us."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk—this reminds me of the convict camps from hundreds of years ago, used to wear us down."

"These men seem to be a mix of all kinds—many are elite, yet bear the styles of different clans. Interesting. Is Jiang Wanxiang planning to use our hands to kill the powerful, unruly clans under his rule?"

General Yue Qianfeng fell silent and said: "What should we do?"

Xue Shen said: "What do you think?"

General Yue Qianfeng said: "The enemy has come; we cannot avoid it. We must fight."

Xue Shen said: "Yes."

"But we have other options. If we simply follow the enemy's strategic intent, we remain passive. Hey—they want to use these aristocratic clans as pawns in a two-way 【use another's blade to kill】. Then let's use their test to trigger our traps."

"Bring up all the Mo Family's mechanisms!"

"Activate them according to Lu Youxian's battle formation."

Xue Shen, as commander-in-chief and the former First Divine General—even though in his era the chaos of war hadn't yet reached today's fury, and though he never reached the Wu Dao legend realm—his strategic vision and command acumen as a top general remained intact.

Under Qin Wang's seven-year relentless support,

the Gongsun Clan and Mo Family's mechanism arts had advanced and revealed their power; on this city's outskirts, the two sides clashed, using the formation master's formations and Mo Family's mechanisms, allowing the Qilin Army to withstand these days of assault.

Meanwhile, Yuwen Lie and He Ruo Qinhu had also worn down the aristocratic forces' elite troops, wiping clean the accumulated filth of Zhongzhou left by Jiang Wanxiang's coercion—the ancient dukes and marquises from the eight-hundred-year-old Red Emperor's legacy vanished.

Then, the true struggle for all under heaven would begin.

After the subtle prelude both sides faintly sensed had ended, the main act began—Divine Generals Yuwen Lie and He Ruo Qinhu stepped onto the battlefield, honoring the departed emperor's final will.

Even though Jiang Wanxiang had foreseen at the very end that he would die, and that this battle's expectations would be difficult to fulfill.

Yet Yu Wen Lie and He Ruo Qinhu, still clinging to their own resolve, led Ying Country's true elite troops onto this chaotic battlefield, fighting with all their might. Xue Shen's expression was solemn, yet he ordered Yue Qianfeng, Li Zhaowen, Xiao Wuliang, Chen Wenmian, and Duan Qingyu—all five war generals—to enter the battle.

On the battlefield, killing intent pierced the heavens; the ringing of blades and swords, as if infused with the resolve of the annals of history, trembled unceasingly. Yet even with the augmentation of the Grand Formation, five against three was still not a match.

Only, every time Yu Wen Lie and the others were about to gravely wound their opponents—

Arrows would fall like flowing light.

The twang of the bowstring was like a tiger's low growl.

Xue Shen held the Cloud-Splitting Heaven-Shaking Bow, standing atop this pass, providing support. His eyes were calm, yet he vaguely sensed something: under such circumstances, Jiang Wanxiang still did not appear.

"Still fishing…"

"Or rather, Jiang Wanxiang has already died on the way here."

Xue Shen had seen through the hidden situation, murmuring to himself:

"Using the various noble houses as the vanguard 'Suicide Battalion,' the war generals charging the formation remain valiant, yet they faintly reveal a sense of sorrow. It seems the Sword God's final sword completely severed Jiang Wanxiang's great aspiration."

Old Master Siming fell silent. He, who had always been free and easy, was still unaccustomed to parting.

He did not know what emotion to use to think of Murong Longtu's final sword—was it heroic, was it valiant, was it invincible, or was it without regret?

The martial world, the realm—two powerhouses who walked to the very end, have they nearly perished at the same time?

Xue Shen set down his war bow and said: "Between the real and the false, it is already clear."

"Jiang Wanxiang is dead; the noble house vanguard army has been utterly spent. Ying Country's military strength is no longer sufficient to suppress our side. The stalemate here is about to be broken. Strike while the iron is hot—the first push is strong, the second weakens, the third exhausts. As long as this battle forces them back, their morale will collapse."

"Yu Wen Lie and He Ruo Qinhu will have no choice but to retreat."

"Their soldiers are not machines or mechanisms."

"They will grow weary. Even if it is killing by borrowed knife, for Ying Country's soldiers, it is the death of comrades, which will have a tremendous impact on military morale. Heh, the reason is that I am a mechanism and they are not, so I employed a mundane method."

Old Master Siming's expression changed drastically; he wanted to intercept but could no longer stop it.

Xue Shen said in all seriousness:

"It truly is irresistibly amusing."

The Formation Champion grinned.

Only Yuan Zhi, who was responsible for maintaining the city's defenses with the Eight-Gate Golden Lock Formation, said in a low voice: "…But right now, our five generals are still no match for their three great generals…"

Or rather, it was Duan Qingyu desperately holding back Qin Yulong.

Yue Qianfeng and Li Zhaowen faced off against Yu Wen Lie.

Chen Wenmian and Xiao Wuliang collided head-on with He Ruo Qinhu.

All three routes were at a disadvantage.

Xue Shen extended his palm and gripped the Tiger Howl Heaven Battle Halberd. The mechanism's palm still carried the same composure as in days of old. Elder Guan Shier's lips trembled. Old Master Siming realized what was happening and closed his eyes with a hint of pain.

Only one person could stop this deadly deadlock.

Duke of Xue.

The final battle of the world's number one divine general, Xue Shen.

Yet Xue Shen simply raised his brow and laughed heartily: "Hahaha, what sort of expressions are those? I am already a dead man. To have such a battle—how exhilarating a thing it is."

"When the world's chaotic tides surge and many difficulties arise, naturally it is for old fellows like us to step forward first."

"Only with fresh blood and blades and swords can we carve out a realm from this chaotic age."

"Everyone—"

Xue Shen stepped atop the city wall, his back to Old Master Siming, Elder Guan Shier, and the Whale-Catching Guest. His voice paused briefly, and he smiled:

"Farewell."

Ripples spread across the void; the Bai Hu of five hundred years ago let out a low roar.

Xue Shen's sleeves billowed.

Crossing five hundred years of dim, yellowed years, he once again set foot upon the battlefield.

On the battlefield, the present-day Bai Hu roared, and in a single strike shattered Li Zhaowen and Yue Qianfeng. Yu Wen Lie raised his head, looking at the city wall above, the fierce, biting aura. Yu Wen Lie was cold and detached; he drove his dragon-steed into a charge toward that place.

Xue Shen gripped his divine weapon, the corners of his mouth curving slightly upward.

That frivolous air dispersed; what remained was only the towering solemnity of a divine general of the military arts.

The world is still the same as ever.

The chaotic age surges, yet only in the darkest of long nights does blazing flame leap upward. The road ahead—we old fellows of the older generation will tear open a rift for you. We bear this gate upon our backs; you go forth into the radiant future.

After Emperor Ji Zichang, Prince Ji Yanzhong, Qu Hanxiu, and Murong Longtu—

Xue Shen.

Gripping his divine weapon, he rushed toward his final battle.

After this battle, win or lose, his consciousness would fall into slumber. Perhaps after another thousand or hundred thousand years, in a very, very distant era, when your names have all become history, and history has sublimated into legend, I will awaken once more.

At that time, let me watch within the written pages the peaceful and prosperous age you have created.

Two Bai Hus galloped across this sandy battlefield. Yu Wen Lie and Xue Shen—both exuded the fierce, biting aura of the Nine Heavens piercing the heavens. Old Master Siming opened his mouth, and in an instant seemed to have aged many years more, watching Xue Shen rush toward his own ending.

In the chaotic age that is like the dark of night, the ending of those who go first.

They had no way to stop it.

In chaotic times, heroes slay heroes.

This is not merely a simple saying. On the battlefield, the thunder of hooves roared like thunder, the roars of fury, the clash of blades and swords, the sound of cutting air, the low sounds of enduring pain, the smell of blood, the steel of blades and swords—the taste of fate.

Xue Shen gazed at the present-day, domineering Bai Hu.

The Tiger Howl Heaven Battle Halberd shrieked.

Yu Wen Lie looked at the predecessor from five hundred years ago, yielding not an inch.

Two weapons rose, nearly carrying the resolve of this life, wrapping each other's valor as they struck out to kill.

At this moment, a piercing, sky-tearing shriek exploded.

Golden wings flared violently; a giant eagle streaked across the heavens, a long spear nearly transformed into a raging dragon, plunging from the sky to violently pierce through the darkness and crash down upon the battlefield.

Boom!!!!!

On the battlefield, a shockwave erupted.

Golden light scattered, tearing through the dust and airwaves of the battlefield, then swept sharply—swords, blades, and blood flew apart—as the proud golden roc circled above.

Yue Qianfeng, spitting blood, froze—his eyes held the arrogant golden wings of the Dharma Form.

Jin Chida!

Lique Spring Divine Spear blocked Yuwen Lie's heavy spear.

The majestic, steadfast divine general's expression was calm.

Yue Pengwu, come!

Yue Pengwu let out a long roar; the Jin Chida Dharma Form clashed with Bai Hu, his spear sweeping horizontally and instantly colliding with Yuwen Lie's heavy spear—the impact of the two divine weapons unleashed a thunderous roar.

Removed Xue Shen from the battlefield.

Yue Qianfeng exclaimed in shock: "Marshal Yue, how are you here?!"

Yue Pengwu and Yuwen Lie stood evenly matched, pulling apart; Yue Pengwu stepped before the mortally prepared Xue Shen and said:

"Yue Pengwu."

"Sent by the Lord's command, to reinforce!"

Xue Shen stared in shock, then raised his voice: "You came here—then isn't Li Guanyi the only one left over there?! How could he possibly defeat Jiang Su?!"

Yue Pengwu gripped his spear, as if seeing again the divine dragon Dharma Form roaring on the battlefield; a flicker of emotion crossed his face as he spoke slowly:

"No."

"I have seen it with my own eyes."

"The Lord has broken through and attained the Legend of Martial Dao."

Xue Shen, Yue Qianfeng, and Master Siming, the Whale Fisher, all fell suddenly silent—the chaotic world had always been the domain of the elder generation, where they displayed their resolve—but this world was not theirs alone.

Not just the Jianghu, not just the court.

The spear stands alone guarding Beicheng.

At this very moment, within the Ying Kingdom.

A band of ten thousand rogue martial artists surged toward Ying's cities; their leader was a towering, dark-complexioned man of solemn bearing—Dou De, gripping a long spear, spoke in a deep, resonant voice to his brothers:

"Ying's Emperor Jiang Wanxiang has mobilized a million troops to join the assault on Qin."

"We are but ten thousand—useless on the battlefield."

"The Qin Wang personally came to welcome us back then. A true man repays kindness without asking why or fearing death—now is the time."

"Follow me—we'll capture Jiang Wanxiang's two sons and the families of his many generals, and see if this Ying Emperor still has the heart to press on, if he still has not a shred of mercy."

"If he hesitates even slightly, we'll chip away at his battle will."

"On this ten-thousand-li battlefield, even we, can repay the Qin Wang's grace."

Dan Xiong looked at his brothers and sighed: "But even if Emperor Jiang Wanxiang has taken all his elite troops, the internal strength of this great kingdom is beyond us to overcome—and if they turn back, how will we survive?"

Dou De remained silent, only solemnly said: "A true man acts in this world—do what must be done. What is life worth fearing?"

"At most, we die repaying our debt."

Dan Xiong and the others exchanged glances: "Brother's words are right."

Dou De, calm, gripped his spear and mounted his warhorse: "Let the Qin Wang know."

"Are heroes of the world only those on the battlefield and in the Jianghu?!"

He cried aloud: "In such a world, we see Wang Hou, famed generals, and knights."

"Do you know the rough men of Yan and Zhao who butcher dogs?!"

?? Please support the Divine Work Ranking event, friends~

? Click the top-left corner of Qidian