Chapter 8: Accomplice!

Hummmm!!! The twang of bowstrings erupted in the pitch-black night, continuous and unbroken.

Countless arrows were coated in fire-oil, raining down from all directions onto the Mountain God Temple—these were arrows from the Northern Dynasty's Xuan State: slender, barbed, especially adept at piercing armor and breaking Qi, each arrow costing three taels of silver; now, in their dense swarm, they could instantly turn a hundred-man armored squad into a porcupine.

But in the next instant, the relentless Canglang arrows froze in midair, as if the void itself had solidified.

These arrows were fired from thirty-stone hardbows, shot by Qi Condensation Realm warriors arranged in three rows in rapid succession; each Canglang arrow could pierce three layers of armor at once—but now they hung suspended in the void, their tails only trembling violently.

Even the archers paled.

Yet instantly, they drew more arrows and fired again, the piercing sound merging into a continuous roar.

The Canglang arrows, specially designed to break Qi, could not even approach within a foot of the Mountain God Temple's entrance.

As they drew arrows, a shrill whistling suddenly pierced the air—countless arrows froze in place, their tails trembling faster and faster; amid this buzzing, bee-like hum, slow, deliberate footsteps sounded.

A giant stepped forward calmly, his curled black hair dancing in the night wind, his clothes stained with grime, his spine straight, his limbs thick, his brow as still as a hunting tiger.

The arrows suspended in the void slowly twisted backward.

He raised his hand and casually brushed aside the arrows before him; they fell to the ground and turned to dust.

The front-line archers each held a final, special arrow in hand.

Their backs were drenched in cold sweat.

Ahead, twelve men in ink-black armor stood rigid, their right hands already on their sword hilts; their lowered sleeve cuffs were embroidered with intricate cloud patterns, radiating lethal intent. The leader spoke slowly: "General Yue Qianfeng of the Great Chen, it has been a long time."

Yue Qianfeng's eyes were cold: "Just you few? Where are Xiao Wuliang and Zhao Mannu? How long do you think you'll live in my hands?"

The leader replied confidently: "General Yue, your strength is extraordinary—but your Manifestation was shattered by the Grand General; you cannot wield your full power within three months. Relying only on your body and internal Qi, how much stronger are you than us mere warriors?"

Yue Qianfeng sneered: "How much stronger? Come try and find out."

The leader of the Night Gallop Cavalry said: "You shouldn't have gone to save him."

"You've wasted your brilliant future!"

Yue Qianfeng suddenly roared: "Marshal Yue protected the nation and was wronged! Twelve imperial edicts ordered him back to court to seal his Manifestation! What future does this court have?!"

The air around them stiffened, tension mounting as both sides searched for gaps in each other's Qi flow. The heavy humidity of the night condensed into rain, falling in a drizzle that splashed against armor.

A faint, tinkling sound of blades.

The Cloud-Pattern Night Gallop Cavalry drew their swords in perfect unison.

Their blades were long and sharp, slowly unsheathed, seeming to vanish into the darkness; the atmosphere instantly grew colder. The next moment, the Night Gallop Cavalry surged forward!

Boom—like thunder!

They blurred into afterimages, splitting apart instantly, each taking a position and executing complementary techniques; in the rain-soaked night, streaks of brilliant light fell. Yue Qianfeng suddenly laughed aloud, flicked his wrist—and the arrows suspended in the air reversed direction.

Countless arrows instantly turned toward the Night Gallop Cavalry and archers ahead.

In the void, they coalesced into a Canglong! "You underestimated me, Night Gallop Cavalry!"

Yue Qianfeng laughed, flicked his wrist again—the whistling of the arrows merged into a single roar, a deafening hum like a dragon's cry.

In an instant, they pierced the archers ahead, tearing through flesh and blood; the ground flooded with crimson. The Night Gallop Cavalry's blades reached him—but could not cut his skin. The massive man spun, seized one cavalryman's head, slammed it hard against the temple wall, then twisted his body, dragging a bloody smear across the stone.

He raised his hand and hurled the cavalryman away; he crashed heavily to the ground.

His right hand already seized the cavalryman's waist-sword, parrying other slashing blades; with a flick of his wrist, the blade slid along another cavalryman's sword edge, shearing off half his arm. Blood and flesh sprayed.

Tall and broad, he charged into the fray wielding the waist-sword—designed for thrusting, yet he wielded it as a heavy cleaver; in the night, waves of lethal blade-light surged, like a lion standing tall amid a pack of wolves.

Even without his Manifestation, Yue Qianfeng remained stronger than these Night Gallop Cavalry.

Like a slaughter, he cut them down one by one—these Night Gallop soldiers had abandoned their mounts to avoid alerting him with hoofbeats, but in doing so, they lost part of their combat power; they forgot Yue Qianfeng's martial prowess and his fearsome battlefield reputation.

All twelve Night Gallop Cavalry lay dead in the rain-soaked night.

Yue Qianfeng bore new wounds; he raised his hand, tracing the dented, pitted surface of the waist-sword, murmuring: "A swift blade, indeed. But alas—like a man without backbone, it's merely a killing tool, not a famed weapon."

The Night Gallop Cavalry whose sword he'd taken still lived, his face twisted, flesh shredded; he crawled forward, struggling. Yue Qianfeng prepared to end him—when suddenly, he sensed another faint Qi.

His tiger-like eyes swept upward—in a narrow alley beside the street, a small, frail figure crouched.

Li Guanyi.

Both sides had focused entirely on each other; this weak child had been instinctively ignored. Now, with the battle over, Li Guanyi's presence could no longer be hidden—he had come here to learn martial arts, yet witnessed the Night Gallop Cavalry, eight hundred strong, dominating the realm, and this giant's slaughter.

The crippled Night Gallop Cavalry instinctively crawled toward him, his body a ruin of blood and flesh.

Beneath the moonlit rain, the towering Yue Qianfeng held his sword, drenched in blood, staring at Li Guanyi. His mind instantly flashed the first possibility: Could this child have been sent by someone? He dismissed it immediately—but a sliver of killing intent rose in his heart.

Mercy does not command armies. He had amassed countless sins. Bold as he was, he was no kind man.

Now, having slaughtered the Night Gallop Cavalry, and with Marshal Yue's fate exposed by the cavalryman, this child had heard it all—likely a threat to the grand plan. Yue Qianfeng's tiger eyes lowered; the rain grew heavier, his aura more terrifying. The wounded cavalryman crawled to Li Guanyi's side, gasping for breath.

Li Guanyi stared at Yue Qianfeng through the rain, at the bloodied cavalryman before him, at the cloud-patterned sleeve—he recognized the cavalryman as the youth who had flaunted his power that day. The bronze tripod's Qi flowed; he glimpsed the slow reddening of the fire dragon's eyes. He knew he had heard what he shouldn't have, seen what he shouldn't have—awakening this giant's killing intent.

Yue Qianfeng raised his broadsword: "You saw. You heard."

"I am indeed a monstrous criminal."

The youth nodded.

Yue Qianfeng's killing intent rose slowly, firmly.

He looked at the pale-faced child with dark eyes, and sighed inwardly.

A weak child.

The crippled Night Gallop Cavalry realized Li Guanyi knew Yue Qianfeng—he seized this as his last straw.

He reached out, grabbing Li Guanyi's clothes, trying to drag him close; the hem tore, revealing the poison pattern on his chest.

The Night Gallop Cavalry's pupils shrank.

This poison!!!

Then he saw the weak child suddenly reach for his waist—next instant, a flash of blue light appeared; Li Guanyi gripped a short sword in both hands and drove it downward with all his strength. The cavalryman's Qi shield vanished—this short sword pierced straight through his throat.

He yanked it out and stabbed again—into the heart.

He hesitated, then pulled the blade free and drove it deep into the right chest—a final stab.

Warm blood spurted, mixing with cold rain, soaking the cloud patterns. The rain-soaked night ten years ago seemed to merge with this one. Yue Qianfeng froze. His killing aura dissipated. He watched the slender youth gasp for breath, then lift his head—blood splattered across his face, revealing a pale smile.

"Now, we are accomplices."

(End of this chapter)