Chapter 215

Jiang Mingyu's eyes flashed with cold light as he spoke icy words: "You lower guard soldiers are nothing but a rabble. I've come today because I covet this fertile land of yours."

With that, his voice rose, echoing through the surrounding valleys: "You are Zhong Nianyu! Do you know your Dingdong City has already fallen to me? How long do you intend to resist? Surrender now, and perhaps I'll spare your lives—otherwise, you'll all die!"

His words were meant to shatter Zhong Nianyu's morale, instilling fear and doubt. After all, Dingdong City was Zhong Nianyu's stronghold, his last refuge—if it had fallen, what hope did they have left?

Yet his words had no effect. Across the enemy lines, a silver-armored general swung his great blade, drenching the air in blood, utterly ignoring Jiang Mingyu's threats. He was Zhong Nianyu, the garrison commander of Dingdong City and leader of the Lower Guard Soldiers.

"Spit! Jiang, don't try to deceive me with lies! Dingdong City is guarded by Wang Leyuan—how could you possibly have breached it? You're nothing but a worthless brat!" Zhong Nianyu roared.

He trusted not a single word Jiang Mingyu spoke. He and Wang Leyuan were sworn brothers; Wang was a man of loyalty and righteousness, never one to surrender. Dingdong City's walls were high and sturdy, its troops elite and fierce, its supplies ample and weapons complete. Even with a hundred thousand men, Jiang Mingyu could never take it.

Seeing Zhong Nianyu refused to believe him, Jiang Mingyu said nothing more. He merely gestured to a man beside him: "Zhong Nianyu, look who's here."

The man stepped forward, revealing a face both familiar and alien—a young, handsome man clad in black brocade, gleaming in the sunlight. His cold gaze fixed on Zhong Nianyu, a sneer curling his lips.

Zhong Nianyu froze, his great blade nearly slipping from his grip. "Wang Leyuan? How are you here? Aren't you in Dingdong City? Have you surrendered to Jiang Mingyu?"

His voice trembled with shock and disbelief. He could never have imagined his closest friend, his brother, would betray him and join the enemy. They had grown up together, trained in martial arts together, marched into battle together, defended Dingdong City together. Their bond was beyond ordinary understanding—he had treated Wang Leyuan as his own flesh and blood.

Yet now Wang Leyuan stood beside the enemy, his eyes devoid of any emotion toward him. Zhong Nianyu felt as if his heart had been slashed open, bleeding out.

But that cry of shock reached every Lower Guard Soldier nearby. They had been fighting desperately against Jiang Mingyu's assault—but upon hearing Dingdong City had fallen and Wang Leyuan had surrendered, they stood frozen, as if struck by lightning. Despair and terror flooded their hearts. They felt utterly hopeless, with no way out.

In that brief moment of paralysis, a dozen Lower Guard Soldiers were cut down by elite troops led by Tukesiluo and Xu Zhanhong. Both were trusted generals of Jiang Mingyu, formidable warriors and skilled tacticians. They led their elite forces like tigers among sheep, carving through the Lower Guard Soldiers, leaving rivers of blood.

Seeing the tide turn against him, Zhong Nianyu gritted his teeth and roared: "Zhong Jinqiang! Kill Jiang Mingyu—and that traitorous bastard!"

Zhong Jinqiang, fighting amid the chaos, heard the order and his eyes turned red. He was Zhong Nianyu's most trusted general and one of the fiercest warriors among the Lower Guard Soldiers. He wielded a long staff, skewering countless enemies. But hearing Dingdong City had fallen and Wang Leyuan had betrayed them, he was consumed by rage and despair. Dingdong City was their home, built over years of sacrifice; Wang Leyuan was their trusted brother. All of it had been stolen by Jiang Mingyu—how could he bear it?

Jiang Mingyu saw Zhong Jinqiang's staff hurtling toward him, startled, and leapt back. His longsword had been taken by Zhong Nianyu; he could only draw a dagger to defend himself. He knew he couldn't match Zhong Jinqiang—he could only buy time until Tukesiluo arrived.

Zhong Jinqiang gave him no respite, closing in relentlessly, each strike of his staff aimed at vital points.

Jiang Mingyu was forced back step by step, his dagger feeble against the staff's might. Blood stained his white robes from multiple wounds. A flicker of despair crossed his eyes—he feared he would die today.

At that moment, a streak of white light descended from the sky, crashing into Zhong Jinqiang's staff. A tremendous force surged through him—the staff flew from his hands, and he was thrown backward several steps. He looked up to see a figure landing before him: Tukesiluo.

Tukesiluo landed, coldly staring at Zhong Jinqiang: "Tukesiluo stands here. Do not dare to flee." Then he turned to Jiang Mingyu: "My lord, are you unharmed?"

Jiang Mingyu, relieved to see Tukesiluo arrive in time, exclaimed: "Thank you for saving me."

Tukesiluo smiled: "My lord, you're too kind—it's my duty." Then he turned to Zhong Jinqiang and snarled: "You dog, how dare you harm my lord? Today, I'll make you pay with your blood!"

With that, he charged forward, engaging Zhong Jinqiang in fierce combat.

Blade met staff, sparks flying. Tukesiluo's swordplay was fluid and unpredictable, each strike carrying the force of thunder and wind. Zhong Jinqiang's staff technique was powerful and unstoppable, each blow unyielding. They clashed, neither gaining the upper hand.

Jiang Mingyu watched, anxious as the two fought to a stalemate.

Zhong Jinqiang, shaken by Tukesiluo's blow, roared: "Tukesiluo, how dare you block my path? Die!" He raised his spear and lunged again.

Tukesiluo sidestepped with a swift glide, evading the spear, then twisted his blade to slash at Zhong Jinqiang. Zhong Jinqiang's spear technique was masterful, the weapon whirling like a storm, repeatedly deflecting Tukesiluo's lethal strikes. Blade and spear clashed in furious combat.

Jiang Mingyu watched anxiously, silently praying Tukesiluo could hold. Zhang Jiaqi also kept watch on the duel, fighting off enemies while shouting: "Tukesiluo, hold on!"

Tukesiluo was drenched in sweat—Zhong Jinqiang's spear technique was uncannily skilled, and he could barely hold on. After dozens of exchanges, Tukesiluo began to falter. Then, with a sudden resolve, he swung his hilt hard at Zhong Jinqiang's face. Caught off guard, Zhong Jinqiang staggered. Tukesiluo seized the opening, his blade lashing out and piercing Zhong Jinqiang's chest.

Zhong Jinqiang screamed, toppled from his horse, and lay motionless. Tukesiluo exhaled sharply, his blade pointing downward: "Not so formidable—you're no match for me."

Behind them, a greater battle raged. Zhong Nianyu's forces clashed with Zhang Jiaqi's troops in the rain, rivers of blood, corpses strewn across the field. Though Zhong Nianyu was a fool, he had loyal brothers. Lu Chuanwen was one of them—he had guarded Zhong Nianyu's side, keeping all others at bay.

But Jiang Mingyu and Xu Zhanhong's assault was too fierce—they were like twin blades piercing Zhong Nianyu's formation. Lu Chuanwen watched his comrades fall one by one, his heart in agony. He shouted:

"My lord, retreat now! Jiang Mingyu and Xu Zhanhong are too strong—we can't hold! My lord, watch out—"

Before he finished, he saw Zhang Jiaqi drawing her bow fully, aiming straight at Zhong Nianyu. Without hesitation, Lu Chuanwen shoved Zhong Nianyu aside. A sharp whistle pierced the air—a feathered arrow struck him squarely in the throat. Blood sprayed, and Lu Chuanwen collapsed.

Zhang Jiaqi, seeing the arrow find its mark, smiled triumphantly. She knew Lu Chuanwen was Zhong Nianyu's most trusted confidant and one of his deadliest warriors. Killing him was like severing Zhong Nianyu's right arm.

Zhong Nianyu saw it too. He stared in horror as Lu Chuanwen fell, his eyes filled with grief and fury. Ignoring his own safety, he rushed to Lu Chuanwen's side, lifting his body. He screamed:

"Chuanwen! How could you die? You can't die! You're my best brother! Don't leave me!"

His cry echoed across the heavens, shaking the earth. All who heard it knew Lu Chuanwen was dead. Lu Chuanwen was no ordinary man—he was one of the two greatest warriors, Zhong Nianyu's closest companion. His death meant Zhong Nianyu was finished.

Morale, already crumbling, shattered completely. Some fled. Some surrendered. Some wept. No one wished to fight for Zhong Nianyu anymore.

But Zhong Nianyu, like a madman, roared beside Lu Chuanwen's corpse. He swung his blade wildly, charging at the enemy.

"Brothers! Don't run! Don't surrender! Kill them all!"

No one listened. No one answered. He stood alone, charging into the enemy. He was no longer a lord, no longer a general, no longer a hero. He was only a fool—a pitiful fool.