[...]
Skill: Horsemanship (Minor Achievement)
Progress: (1089/2000)
"Good job, Qianxun."
Chen Sanshi gently brushed the horse's mane. The White Swan horse tilted its head and snorted, clearly asking for a reward—and a bath.
After the last few battles, both man and horse were drenched in blood from head to hoof.
"You're getting fussier by the day," Chen Sanshi sighed.
Qianxun's tastes were becoming more refined, its appetite more particular, and its comfort demands ever higher.
But of course, you couldn't expect a horse to fight hard without feeding it well.
And truthfully, Qianxun's value surpassed that of any warrior—so long as he could provide, he would.
The pair arrived near Pianye River, a small branch of the southern Zha River. It wasn't wide enough for ships, but the surrounding plains were lush with thick grass—perfect for grazing.
Hulao Pass was running short on food.
Later, Qianxun could lead the 3,000 warhorses here to graze. This area was visible to Southern Xu scouts, but sometimes letting the enemy see what you wanted them to see was even better.
Chen Sanshi quietly took note of every detail, then stepped into the cool river to wash off the dried blood. He scrubbed Qianxun's coat clean as well.
By the time they returned to the pass, the sun had risen.
"Sir!"
Xia Cong, who had been on watch all night, rushed forward. "Where were you yesterday, sir?"
"Yes, sir," others echoed, gathering around him.
Yesterday, when their general vanished, they thought something had gone wrong and sent out scouts to search.
What they found instead—
Southern Xu soldiers collecting corpses.
Dozens of frightened, riderless horses galloping madly across the plains.
And outside the enemy camp, shield formations lined up, every man on high alert.
It looked like they'd suffered a raid.
But General Chen had gone out alone!
"Hunting," Chen Sanshi replied simply.
The group fell silent. Fang Qingyun exchanged a knowing glance, realizing at once what his junior brother had done.
He shook his head and sighed deeply.
Before, he'd wondered what kind of strategy one man could pull off.
But now he understood—some victories didn't need strategy. Sometimes, sheer overwhelming strength was the strategy.
His junior brother was terrifying.
A single bow in his hands felt like a divine weapon—he killed like casting spells.
"After what you've done, the enemy won't dare attack for at least seven days," Fang Qingyun said quietly. "But judging from your current approach, you don't intend to give them that long to recover. You're planning to strike their vanguard before their morale returns, aren't you?"
He knew exactly what Chen Sanshi was thinking.
After this humiliation, Southern Xu would surely dispatch a Profound Manifestation Realm general to the front lines. If Chen wanted to deal another heavy blow, he had to act before that man arrived.
"Senior Brother is right," Chen Sanshi said. "We'll launch an assault in five days."
Sha Wenlong blinked. "An assault?"
"General," Lu Shuhua said, "our scouts report the Southern Xu camp has tightened its defenses. No one's leaving, and they're on constant alert. If we approach rashly, we'll be seen…"
"I'll handle that," Chen Sanshi interrupted. "In the meantime, gather 20 sets of general-grade armor. Half should be from the Qing Kingdom's captured officers."
"General armor?" Lu Shuhua asked. "What for?"
"Easy," Deng Feng said quickly. "We can collect the armor from the surrendered Qing officers in the eight nearby prefectures."
Chen Sanshi nodded. "Good. And one more thing—from today onward, send 2,000 men to Pianye River every morning at Mao hour to graze the horses. Have them return by Shen hour. Make it a daily routine. And don't bother hiding it."
"Graze the horses?" Sha Wenlong frowned. "I know our supplies are short, but… you don't need 2,000 men for that. The entire pass has barely 3,000 soldiers in total."
Chen Sanshi didn't answer. After giving his orders, he ate some meat to recover his strength, took enough rations for the day, mounted Qianxun, and rode back out into the endless wilderness.
He scouted the outer perimeter in wide circles, calculating the farthest point he could reach without being surrounded. Though he couldn't get close to the enemy camp, it didn't matter—he could still hunt from the outskirts.
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—"
Every Southern Xu patrol that left their camp met the same fate.
Not one returned alive.
In just two days, more than 200 men had fallen to his arrows.
By the end, patrols carried thick iron shields everywhere they went. The moment they heard the wind stir or grass rustle, they'd huddle behind them, trembling. The unlucky ones—those who didn't react fast enough—were crippled or killed on the spot.
Five days passed like this.
Out of their so-called 100,000 troops, not one dared to act beyond building camps. Even patrols stayed within 20 li of the main camp.
"Humiliation! Utter humiliation!"
Fan Jiaxiao erupted in fury, flipping the table before him. "I command 100,000 men—and we're frozen in place by one man?!"
"Fourteenth Highness, there's nothing we can do!"
"Anyone who shows his head dies!"
"And that damned horse of his—!"
"We can't even catch it!"
"How long until General Peng arrives?"
"Too far! At least seven or eight days!"
"Then get word to my Eighth Brother!" Fan Jiaxiao shouted. "Tell him to lend me his blue roan horse! And have him send a batch of heavy round shields suitable for cavalry! Also—summon Li Gong. I want the truth this time—how many troops does Hulao Pass really have? What's the situation in Laizhou? No more lies!"
At Yongle Prefecture.
"Useless idiots!"
Prince Li Gong slammed the secret letter onto the table.
They had a few informants among the Southern Xu officers who regularly sent updates from the front.
"My lord," Liu Huanrong said nervously, startled by his rage. "What's wrong?"
"Read for yourself!" Li Gong snarled, shoving the letter into his chest. "The vanguard—30,000 men—hasn't advanced a single step in five days!"
"This…"
Liu Huanrong scanned the report, his face twisting in disbelief. "Chen Sanshi… one man and one bow… and he broke the vanguard's will to fight? It says the patrols now demand extra pay before going out—otherwise no one volunteers. That's… ridiculous."
The thunderous roar of catapults echoed from afar.
It meant—another round of siege had begun.
Li Gong lifted his weapon, his face stern, and commanded, "Send a message! Tell them that the situation in Yongle Prefecture is excellent. The Great Sheng army outside the walls is already exhausted. If they strike now, they'll crush them in one decisive blow! Tell them not to fear casualties, not to hold back to preserve their strength, and above all—don't doubt our intentions!"
He gritted his teeth and raised his hand in a solemn oath.
"I, Li Gong, swear on my honor and the lives of my entire family—Hulao Pass truly has only 3,000 men! The only general of the Profound Manifestation Realm is Sha Wenlong, and he's just at the early stage! There isn't a second one!
As long as they attack—they'll win!"
——
In a barren wilderness, among scattered rocks and weeds, Chen Sanshi was alone, training his spear technique.
Inside the human body flowed twelve main meridians and eight extraordinary meridians, connected further by a thousand minor veins.
To reach Minor Achievement in the Meridian-Connecting Realm, one had to open at least 20 minor meridians as the foundation. The more that were opened, the more complex one's circulation of energy became, and the purer the resulting Internal Force.
Before, opening meridians mainly improved endurance.
But opening the lesser veins—those refined secondary channels—was for power.
There was no bottleneck for him.
Chen Sanshi effortlessly opened 20, then 100. Only then did he finally understand why his master had forced him to study so many different weapons and martial techniques.
Each technique opened another minor meridian.
Just as Senior Sister Sun had once said—at higher realms, martial artists rarely practiced multiple techniques. The efficiency was too low. Every technique gave a slight improvement, but the time investment was massive.
Even Martial Saints needed time to train. A person's effort was limited, while martial arts were endless. Most didn't refuse to learn more—they simply didn't have the time.
Unless…
Someone could master hundreds or thousands of techniques in a short time. Small gains stacked upon each other—creating an insurmountable gap.
And he—was precisely that kind of person.
When his breakthrough ended, Chen Sanshi had already opened 100 meridians.
For most cultivators, even talented ones, opening 20 veins was the bare minimum, and 50 was considered genius.
He started at 100—and he could still go higher.
He'd stopped only because time was short and he'd practiced only a few dozen techniques so far.
His instincts told him this—
The number of meridians opened was tied to realms beyond the Martial Saint. It wasn't just about having stronger Internal Force—it defined the upper limit of one's future.
"Boom!"
He thrust his spear forward, clearing his mind of all distractions. The True Dragon Force surged like a raging torrent. The pile of boulders in front of him exploded into dust, as if he had pierced through a mountain itself.
[...]
Technique: Dragon Spear of Nation-Suppression · Meridian-Connecting (Minor Achievement)
Progress: 0/2000
He had entered the Meridian-Connecting Realm—Minor Achievement.
Having prepared well beforehand, his breakthrough was smooth. Once his cultivation stabilized, he checked the time, then turned his horse toward Hulao Pass.
There, 20 cavalrymen awaited him—10 of them clad in general-grade armor that only Qing Kingdom commanders above the Meridian-Connecting Realm were allowed to wear.
"Listen to my command!" Chen Sanshi said coldly. "We ride straight into the Southern Xu camp. Remember—none of you are below the Meridian-Connecting Realm. All 20 of us are masters. We command an army of 30,000!"
"This move's called bluffing," Xia Cong murmured, suddenly understanding. "But sir, won't they see through it? Realm differences can't be faked once we start fighting."
"Yeah…"
Lu Shuhua frowned, exchanging uneasy looks with the others. "Our highest level's only Transforming Strength…"
"Then we'll only be exposed if we fight," Chen Sanshi replied calmly. "And that's exactly what I want—doubt. Once they start to doubt, they'll fall into the trap. Senior Brother, I'm counting on you for everything else."
"Junior Brother," Fang Qingyun said, tilting his head up to the bright sky, "wait three hours before you act. Strike at dusk—the results will be twice as strong, maybe even bring unexpected gain."
"Alright, I'll do as you say."
Chen Sanshi nodded. "This time, I'll only be drawing the snake from its hole. The rest—planning, timing, everything—will depend on you. I can't handle both ends myself."
He smiled faintly. A true strategist like Fang Qingyun was a treasure—how could he be left idle?
After all, war was never a one-man show. Winning required coordination, not personal glory. Only when everyone around you performed their best could you achieve victory that defied reason.
And Fang Qingyun—though crippled—was still commander of the Azure Dragon Battalion. Even his deputy was at Major Achievement in the Profound Manifestation Realm. Without real ability, how could he command such men?
This kind of stratagem—one that required cunning and deception—was exactly Fang Qingyun's strength. Chen Sanshi had no need to worry.
The others, though, were lost.
It sounded like the two of them had everything planned out between them—yet no one else understood a word of it.
They felt like fools—just waiting for orders, clueless about what was really coming next.
"What about me?" Deng Feng finally blurted, unable to hold back. "Commander Chen, shouldn't I go with you?"
"Ah, right," Chen Sanshi said, as if suddenly remembering. "General Deng, remove your Qing Kingdom armor. Put on our Great Sheng gear instead, and change your weapon too."
"You want me to pretend to be someone else?"
Deng Feng's face tightened. Deep down, it stung. He was already a surrendered general, now forced to hide his identity like some disgraceful secret. He wanted to earn merit—more than anyone else.
Still, he said firmly, "I obey."
"Don't be upset, General Deng," Chen Sanshi said with a smile. "Keeping you hidden is part of a bigger plan. You alone are worth three generals."
"Indeed, General Deng," Fang Qingyun added, "I'll need you soon enough. Without you, my plan can't work."
Once all was settled, Chen Sanshi gathered his 20 men and rode off swiftly.
Inside the central command tent, only Fang Qingyun, Sha Wenlong, and Deng Feng remained.
"General Fang, just give the order," Deng Feng said, clenching his fist. "I might not be the best at scheming, but below the Martial Saint, I can kill any opponent. Even above that, I can still hold my own for a few rounds. Whatever hard job needs doing, leave it to me."
"General Fang…" Sha Wenlong said, his tone unusually respectful toward the scholar in blue robes. "What should we do next?"
"When Chen Sanshi faced the Southern Xu army earlier," Fang Qingyun said softly, "do you remember what he claimed about our forces?"
"30,000," Sha Wenlong replied, shaking his head. "He exaggerated by tenfold. Isn't that kind of bluff pointless?"
"Bluffing?" Fang Qingyun's lips curved in a faint smile. "No."
Fang Qingyun's usual calm vanished, replaced by cold, cutting sharpness. His eyes fixed on the sand table before him, the jade flute in his hand tapping the terrain like a drawn blade.
"Junior Brother said 30,000," he said quietly, "then as his Senior Brother, I'll make 30,000 appear for him."
"Pass my order!"
"At Shen hour today, the entire force of 30,000 will march out and strike directly at the Southern Xu camp!"
——
Silver Pine Cliff.
Southern Xu military camp.
"What a fine horse!"
Fan Jiaxiao sat atop the blue roan steed, watching the landscape blur past on both sides. It felt as if he were flying.
This horse was one of the Southern Xu army's only three exotic warhorses. Its greatest trait was explosive power—it could travel over 2,000 li in a day, and when it burst forth at full speed, even a Profound Manifestation Realm martial general couldn't easily keep up.
Every man also carried a heavy iron shield.
That damned Chen Sanshi—no matter how strong he was—was still only a Meridian-Connecting Realm warrior!
A few months ago in Mingzhou, he had only been at the Transforming Strength stage. Even if he were a rare genius, at most he could have reached Minor Achievement in Meridian-Connecting by now.
Fan Jiaxiao himself was at Major Achievement in the same realm, and born with an Innate Martial Body—his foundation unshakable. Within his realm, he had nearly no rival, let alone when facing someone below it.
Now, with his blue roan steed and a pure Black Armored shield, he could finally counter that enemy's lightning-fast horse and those monstrous ghostlike arrows.
His shield wasn't some alloy mixed with scraps of iron like ordinary equipment—it was forged entirely of pure black iron. Most weapons called "Black Armored" in the army were just alloyed with a trace of it. Pure Black Armored was far too rare for mass production.
Only high-ranking generals had such equipment.
His shield could channel Internal Force—its defense was extraordinary. Even a Profound Manifestation Realm general would have to strike several times to cut through.
If he could just get close enough, Chen Sanshi's agility would mean nothing.
At the very least, he could shake the man's arrogance.
Otherwise, watching one man ride in every day, kill a dozen cavalrymen, and leave untouched—it was driving the entire army mad.
It had reached the point where no one dared step outside to relieve themselves at night without three or five companions guarding with shields.
It was humiliating beyond words.
Throughout all of history, what army had ever been terrorized like this—by one single man?
Not long ago, Prince Li Gong had sent a letter.
He swore that Hulao Pass truly had only 3,000 men, and that the only Profound Manifestation general there was Sha Wenlong. That meant all of Chen Sanshi's earlier actions—every impossible feat—were just bluffs!
He didn't have an army at all. He was gambling alone, relying on fear and deception to slow their advance.
A hero? Yes.
But a paper tiger nonetheless—one poke, and it would rip apart.
"Report—!"
"What is it? Chen again?"
Fan Jiaxiao's eyes flashed; he didn't even need to hear the rest to know. "We've already laid ambushes around the camp, lined with shielded soldiers. If he dares come alone again, he's walking to his death!"
"This time he's not alone," the scout said breathlessly. "He brought over 20 riders. All of them wearing fine general-grade armor—claiming to be 20 Meridian-Connecting generals. They're not approaching the camp directly, just slaughtering our ambush troops outside. In less than one hour… more than 200 men are dead!"
"20 Meridian-Connecting generals? What a joke!"
Fan Jiaxiao spat. "I have 100,000 troops, and only about 30 are in the Meridian-Connecting Realm. Even if he really had 30,000 men, he wouldn't have more than ten of them! Unless he pulled every elite from the front lines, this bluff is absurd!"
The scout hesitated, then said, "Half of them are wearing Qing Kingdom armor."
"Qing Kingdom armor?"
Fan Jiaxiao's brows furrowed. That didn't make sense.
Unless Yongle Prefecture had completely fallen, there shouldn't be that many Qing generals surrendering at once. And even if there were, no sane commander would gather fresh defectors into one unit—let alone send them out for a raid.
Impossible.
"Fake!" he concluded coldly. "Where are they now?"
The aide spread a map and circled their current position.
"Don't alert them," Fan Jiaxiao ordered at once. "Don't call for withdrawal either. Let them kill another few waves—pretend we haven't noticed. Draw them in, bit by bit."
He turned sharply, voice echoing across the tent.
"All units—hear my command!"
"Lieutenant General Zhang, lead 3,000 men from the front-left division and circle from the northwest. Cut off their retreat route!"
"Lieutenant Generals Gao and Liu—each of you take 2,000 men and two more lieutenants. Flank from both sides!"
"The vanguard will send 4,000 men and one lieutenant with me—we'll strike from the front. All officers above Transforming Strength, grab shields and form the front line!"
"The remaining 20,000 stay in the camp and hold position. If anything changes, they'll move to reinforce!"
Southern Xu didn't have many Martial Saints, but they'd built up strength for years. Their mid-level commanders were numerous. Each division of 3,000 had at least one lieutenant general in the Meridian-Connecting Realm—comparable to the elite Eight Northern Garrisons.
10,000 men total—plus six Meridian-Connecting generals. Nearly half of the entire front-line strength.
Surely 20 riders couldn't escape that!
He'd see soon enough—how many of them were real, and how many were pretending.
"Fourteenth Highness," Lieutenant General Zhang hesitated, "could this be an ambush?"
"An ambush?" Fan Jiaxiao gave a low, cold laugh. "You think I don't expect that? That's why I'm sending 10,000 men—to walk straight into their trap!"
"If Hulao Pass truly has only 3,000 defenders, even if they tried to ambush us, they could spare at most 1,000 soldiers. They still need some inside to guard the gates. Even if Sha Wenlong himself leads them, what's 1,000 against 10,000? And we still have 20,000 more ready to support!"
He knew perfectly well it could be a trap.
But this battle—he had no choice but to fight it.
He'd been forced into a corner.
This wasn't a trap of deception—it was a trap of necessity.
His Eighth Brother and Ran Jingxuan were still handling affairs in Lingzhou. General Peng wouldn't arrive for several more days.
If they kept letting Chen Sanshi slaughter men at this rate—how would they ever besiege the city later?
What kind of vanguard hesitates before the fight even begins?
If the "vanguard" lost its edge, how could they ever take a single wall?
For the past two days, Fan Jiaxiao had followed Ran Jingxuan's advice and swapped the vanguard with the central army. But the newly rotated troops—after only a few days—were already scared out of their wits again. If things went on like this, the Great Xu army would collapse psychologically. No matter what, their arrogance had to be crushed.
This wasn't recklessness or overconfidence.
Fan Jiaxiao had accurate intelligence about the enemy's strength and had arranged his forces at several times their number. It was a perfect, foolproof plan.
Just then, thunder cracked across the heavens.
At some point, the clear blue sky had turned dark with clouds. A moment later, a torrent of rain poured down, drenching the wilderness and turning it into a swamp of mud.
"It's raining, General! Should we keep chasing?"
"Of course, you idiot!"
Fan Jiaxiao unsheathed his sword. "Whoever kills Chen Sanshi—will be granted a marquisate!"
Over 10,000 soldiers charged forward at full speed, vanishing into the storm.
The rain came too sudden and too heavy, sweeping across the sky like a waterfall from the Ninth Heaven. Visibility dropped to almost nothing.
"Zhi!"
Chen Sanshi thrust his spear through the last sentry standing, killing him instantly. Seeing the downpour, he immediately understood why Senior Brother had told him to act after Shen hour.
The weather—
Just like Xu Wencai, his Senior Brother Fang Qingyun could read the heavens.
With that ability, paired with precise timing, "Heaven's timing" among the triad of Heaven, Earth, and Man was firmly in their grasp. It was a reminder that this world did not belong to one strategist alone.
He smiled faintly. This battle would show him his Senior Brother's methods in full.
When they subdued Laizhou, the plan of surrender had taken five steps.
This time, the Southern Xu army's fall—100,000 strong—would collapse in four stages.
His first step had already been taken: one man, one bow, 600 kills to start the storm.
The second step—building momentum—was now his Senior Brother's turn.
The thought of the heavens reminded him of the old scholar, Xu Wencai.
Counting the months, Xu had been in Youzhou battling the rebels, and secretly fighting the Wei Kingdom's interference, for quite some time. Chen Sanshi wondered how the war there was progressing.
"Kill—!"
"Boom!"
The roar of thunder mingled with the cries of battle.
"General!"
Xia Cong rushed over, wiping the rain from his face. "They're here! They're everywhere! Our only escape is northeast—if we don't move now, we'll be surrounded!"
"Yeah," Xiao Zheng added, panting. "The rain's too heavy to see clearly, but judging by the sound, there are thousands of them in every direction!"
"So many?"
Yan Changqing sneered. "That Fourteenth Prince of Southern Xu must have gone insane—to send tens of thousands just to kill twenty of us!"
"Do as Xia Cong said," Chen Sanshi ordered calmly. "We go northeast!"
"General, one question!"
Lu Shuhua shouted through the storm. "If we go northeast, we'll only get farther from Hulao Pass!"
"If we go northeast, we'll reach the Silver Pine Gorge," Chen Sanshi replied. "General Fang and General Deng will meet us there!"
He spurred his White Swan horse forward, his men close behind.
"General!"
Xia Cong's voice was filled with worry. "If they're chasing with so many men—can General Fang's forces hold them off?"
"Enough talk!"
"Hyah!"
Chen Sanshi lashed his reins and accelerated.
He trusted Fang Qingyun—completely.
A true commander didn't do everything himself. A man who couldn't delegate wasn't a general—just a warrior with rank.
"Whumm!"
Hearing hooves pounding behind, Chen Sanshi turned and loosed an arrow. The willow-leaf arrow, infused with True Dragon Force, tore through the storm, its precision and strength unaffected by the torrential rain.
One li.
That was his new effective range. He hadn't needed a breakthrough—just countless hours of steady improvement. After advancing in realm, the growth had exploded. His range had jumped from 300 paces (about 400 meters) to a full one li (roughly 500 meters).
At such distance, with rain pouring down like curtains, no one could see or even hear the string's release.
Not until the arrow was barely 20 paces away did Fan Jiaxiao—charging in the front—feel a sudden chill. Startled, he infused his shield with force, raising the Black Armored barrier just in time.
"Whumm—"
Even so, the impact pushed him back, but he wasn't hurt. His heart leapt. "It works! Brothers! Raise your shields! Without arrows, Chen Sanshi's nothing!"
"Kill!"
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—"
Chen Sanshi shot several more arrows. Each time, a metallic clang echoed—the arrows deflected.
Indeed, most soldiers couldn't even hold such heavy shields properly; the sheer impact of his force could toss them off their horses.
The problem was—he had too few Ghost Vein Arrows left. Only ten remained. He couldn't bear to waste them.
He'd definitely need to deal with that black bear and get another Ghost Vein tree when he got back. If Seeking Immortals Tower could provide more iron, he'd finally reach true Ghost Vein Arrow freedom.
But fine—
If he couldn't kill the riders, he could still kill the horses.
Using his Qi Observation Technique, he locked onto the nearest cluster of enemies, lowered his aim slightly, and exhaled.
Three arrows flew.
"Neighhh!"
Several warhorses screamed as they collapsed, sending riders tumbling. The cavalry behind them didn't have time to stop—some trampled their fallen comrades to death, others tripped and were crushed by those behind.
Every fall dragged down a dozen more. Even those who survived couldn't get up quickly.
Then a voice thundered through the rain, louder than the storm itself.
"Southern Xu dogs!"
"Still daring to chase? You've already been surrounded by my 30,000 troops! Surrender your horses now—or you'll all die in this gorge today!"
"Your mother's lies!"
Fan Jiaxiao bellowed back. "There aren't more than 3,000 men in Hulao Pass—stop pretending!"
"Don't believe me? Then keep chasing!"
Chen Sanshi's White Swan horse galloped ahead like lightning.
But his men's horses weren't nearly as fast.
He had to cover the rear, firing again and again to slow the pursuers.
Even so, the gap between them was shrinking by the moment.
Up ahead, two towering peaks rose from the mist. The twenty-odd riders slipped between them, vanishing into the gorge under cover of the storm.
"Whoa—"
Fan Jiaxiao reined in his horse. Behind him, thousands of cavalry and thousands of foot soldiers followed his lead and stopped.
"General!"
"This terrain is too narrow! There must be an ambush!"
"Ambush my ass! Charge!"
Fan Jiaxiao bellowed, his sword flashing as he spurred his mount forward. Like a tiger charging down a mountain, he led the way into the gorge, his cavalry flooding in behind him.
"Kill—!"
At that very moment—
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"
From the cliffs above, countless arrows rained down with the torrents of water, followed by rolling boulders and crashing tree trunks.
"Ambush!"
"There's an ambush!"
"Look up! The cliffs above!"
"Crack—"
A bolt of lightning split the sky.
Illuminated by the blinding flash, the cliff tops were packed—dense with soldiers.
And at the highest point, a lone wheelchair appeared, its occupant faintly visible in the strobing light—a scholar in azure robes.
With that air of calm authority, who else could it be but the famed "Phoenix Chick," Fang Qingyun?
Wang Zhi stood beside the wheelchair, shouting down, "Commander of the Azure Dragon Battalion, Fang Qingyun, is here! You are surrounded on all sides! Surrender now, and your lives will be spared!"
Fang Qingyun!
Only now did the Southern Xu soldiers realize—while all their attention had been fixed on the White Horse, Chen Sanshi, they had completely forgotten about this other legendary figure, Fang Qingyun.
"Ahhh!"
Inside the gorge, the trapped cavalrymen fell in waves as the ambush took hold. In the blink of an eye, more than a hundred were down.
But then—
Amid the chaos, Fan Jiaxiao suddenly threw his head back and laughed wildly. "Hahaha—!"
From above, Wang Zhi shouted sharply, "You little fool! You're already surrounded, what's so funny?!"
"I'm laughing—"
Fan Jiaxiao roared back, "I'm laughing at your foolishness, you white-robed idiot! And you, little Phoenix Chick—so clever, yet so blind!
"You really think I'm that stupid?!
"You think I didn't know there was an ambush in this gorge? You think I'd run in just to die?
"I came here as bait—to hook you two big fish!"
"Fang Qingyun!"
He pointed upward, yelling, "Look around you! You're the ones surrounded now!"
On both sides of Silver Pine Gorge, two forces of 3,000 elite troops each were charging in, banners of the Great Xu army whipping in the wind as they stormed toward the cliffs.
"Fang Qingyun! Chen Sanshi! Stop bluffing! I know exactly how many men you have! Only 3,000, and maybe 2,000 of them here at most!
"I, Fan Jiaxiao, brought over 10,000 men—and six Meridian-Connecting generals! We came ready to walk right into your trap—to drag you both out!
"Once I take you two down, my vanguard will march straight on Hulao Pass!
"Kill the White Robe! Capture the Phoenix Chick! Guard the Pass!
"Today, I, Fan Jiaxiao, will make my name known to the world!"
Such a victory—such a feat—would be one for the ages!
Atop the cliff, Fang Qingyun sat in his wheelchair beneath a paper umbrella. The rain poured around him, but not a single drop touched his robe. He raised his flute, pointing it gently toward the young general below on the blue roan horse, and laughed softly.
It was not a loud laugh.
It sounded like a teacher amused by a student's clumsy move in chess—warm, unmocking, almost kind.
"Fang Qingyun!"
Fan Jiaxiao froze. At first, he felt insulted—but then, inexplicably, unease crept into his heart. "What the hell are you laughing at?!"
"Me?"
Fang Qingyun shook his head, smiling faintly. "I'm laughing at myself. I've been away from the battlefield for years… and now even a greenhorn prince dares to talk about capturing me alive."
"Enough pretending to be calm!"
Fan Jiaxiao snarled, his teeth grinding. "You've only got 3,000 men and one Profound Manifestation beginner! That's what Qing Kingdom's Prince Li Gong himself said! No matter who you are, with so few troops, you'll die here today!"
"Oh?"
Fang Qingyun chuckled. "Tell me, Fourteenth Prince—has it ever crossed your mind that maybe Li Gong lied to you? What if… we actually have 30,000 men?"
"Bullshit!"
Fan Jiaxiao snapped. "You take me for a three-year-old?"
Even as he barked the words, he couldn't bear to stay in the gorge. Shield raised, he urged his blue roan steed forward. In a few breaths, he burst out from under the arrow rain into the open wasteland beyond.
But before he could catch his breath, chaos struck again.
"Fourteenth Highness! Bad news!"
"Both flanks—they're surrounded too!"
"We're trapped!"
"If we keep attacking the cliffs, we'll be caught from front and rear! The lieutenants have pulled back to regroup!"
Through the curtain of rain, Liu Canjiang and Zhang Canjiang were rallying their men—over 10,000 soldiers, panicked and huddled together under the dark, stormy sky.
"No! Impossible! Absolutely impossible!"
Fan Jiaxiao roared through the storm, water streaming down his face. "They've got at most 3,000 men! How can they possibly surround 10,000?!"
"Fourteenth Highness—it's true! I swear it's true!"
Fan Jiaxiao turned his eyes up to the cliff, where Fang Qingyun still sat serenely above them. His voice shook. "Then… retreat!"
He still didn't believe Sheng Kingdom really had 30,000 men.
It wasn't blind faith in Li Gong—but a matter of logic.
Even if Sheng's armies were strong, their total numbers were limited.
They were still stationed in Laizhou, holding off the Qing Emperor's forces in Greenridge Mountain and defending Yongle Prefecture.
In theory, the troops they could've transferred to Hulao Pass—wouldn't exceed 5,000 at most.
Unless—
Li Gong had actually already been defeated. The army in Yongle Prefecture had fewer than 10,000 troops left. Only under such circumstances could Sheng Kingdom possibly have pulled out more than 30,000 soldiers to reinforce Hulao Pass.
But even that seemed unlikely.
Yongle Prefecture was one of the most fortified cities in the world. They still had enough rations to last for several months, and Li Gong himself was a Martial Saint—one of the stronger ones at that. How could he have fallen so quickly?
This battle—Fang Qingyun must have used some kind of scheme.
He was, after all, the founder of Stratagem Dao.
Even so, Fan Jiaxiao knew there was no need to keep risking everything.
So far, they'd only lost a few hundred men. If he could just retreat to camp, it'd be as though nothing had ever happened.
"Retreat—!"
"Fourteenth Highness, we can't! We're surrounded!"
"I said retreat! The whole army, follow me!"
Fan Jiaxiao shouted, rallying his troops as they turned south.
"Crack—!"
Just then, a bolt of lightning lit up the vast wasteland ahead.
The rain. The thunder. The storm.
The sound of war drums. The thunder of hooves. The clash of weapons.
As far as the eye could see, the plain ahead was packed with figures—dark shapes crowding together. In the brief flash of lightning, countless gleams of steel flickered in the night like ghostly soldiers from the underworld come to claim their souls. Judging from the sight alone—there were at least 10,000 of them.
"There's people in the south! Pull west!"
Fan Jiaxiao ordered, turning his entire force.
But after barely a li, the same sight appeared again.
"East!"
Still the same.
The wilderness boiled with chaos—shadows, soldiers, horses screaming and trampling through mud. The rain blurred everything, and it was impossible to count how many there were. Even the gorge behind them was blocked tight. It felt like they were surrounded on all sides—endless enemies, endless pursuit.
Could it be—
There really were 30,000?
Fan Jiaxiao froze, shocked.
Had Prince Li Gong not only lied, but also lost completely?
Otherwise, where could all these soldiers have come from?!
"General of Nation-Defense, Sha Wenlong, is here—!"
A monstrous figure charged forward, brandishing a heavy broadsword. His face twisted with ferocity, and behind him thundered ranks upon ranks of Black Armored cavalry, their armor glinting under the flashes of lightning.
"Don't panic!"
Fan Jiaxiao had trained under both Zhonghu and Strategist Ran. Even under this chaos, he steadied himself. "Raise your Black Armored shields! Form the Capturing General Formation!"
"Don't be afraid!"
"Sha Wenlong's only at the early Profound Manifestation Realm! Three peak Meridian-Connecting lieutenants with 2,000 men can trap him. Everyone else—keep breaking through!"
His orders were swift.
The Southern Xu army, led by the three peak Meridian-Connecting lieutenants, deployed 2,000 men into formation. The shields rose, walls of iron locking tight around Sha Wenlong.
"Thud! Thud! Thud!"
The soldiers braced their massive Black Armored shields—each taller than a man—forming a wall of metal that clashed violently with Sha Wenlong's blade.
Sha Wenlong cut through soldiers again and again, but the wall reformed each time. He was trapped within the formation.
"Just as I thought—only one Profound Manifestation general!"
Fan Jiaxiao gritted his teeth. Lying about troop numbers was one thing—but if Li Gong had hidden even the truth about his generals, then he'd clearly been planning to use the Great Xu army as cannon fodder.
He had just started to breathe easier when another figure burst into the battlefield.
This one wore Qing Kingdom armor, rode a black horse, and stood tall and broad-shouldered. He charged barehanded into the fray—no weapon at all.
With a single punch, his qi condensed into the shape of a roaring tiger, tearing through over a dozen soldiers in an instant.
Lieutenant General Liu roared and charged straight at him—only to be smashed in the face, helmet and skull shattered in one blow, leaving a hole clean through his head.
Lieutenant General Zhang swung his blade, but the giant caught it barehanded. He lifted Zhang into the air as easily as picking up a chicken—then ripped him apart alive.
The man seemed to grow bored of his horse, dismounted, grabbed it by the reins, and swung the black warhorse like a club. He crushed another few dozen soldiers before tossing the horse aside, its body mangled into pulp, and continued slaughtering barehanded.
Profound Manifestation Realm—
Major Achievement!
Maybe even Great Completion—only a step away from the Martial Saint Realm!
Wasn't Chen Sanshi the one commanding Hulao Pass?
How could there be such a terrifying general?!
This strength was no less than the chief commanders of the Eight Garrisons—and close to the level of a Martial Saint. A single man like that could turn the tide of battle when no one else in the same realm could stop him.
Li Gong—
Had he hidden even this?
How could he betray his own allies like this?!
Now it made sense. Those Qing Kingdom defectors must be real too. Only someone this monstrous could possibly command so many surrendered generals without chaos erupting.
"Surround him too!"
"Retreat—!"
Fan Jiaxiao had lost all will to fight. He only wanted to delay the beast long enough to escape.
"That's enough."
From atop the cliffs, Fang Qingyun spoke softly as Wang Zhi pushed his wheelchair forward. "Junior Brother, the plan's succeeded. Let them withdraw. They still have 10,000 men, and we only brought 1,500. This whole illusion was made possible only by the storm. If we chase too long, they might see through it. Besides, the main Xu camp isn't far—if reinforcements come, it'll get troublesome."
"No—let's try something else."
Chen Sanshi's voice was calm but firm as he gazed into the rain-soaked chaos below. "Senior Brother, what do you think of the Eighteen Nether Thunder Formation?"
"You mean the one from the Heavenly Book?"
Fang Qingyun's eyes flickered in understanding. "I see. Then I'll leave this part to you. My job's done. It's raining and cold—I'll head back. Old Sixth, let's go."
"You damn cripple, I only push you 'cause I pity you," Wang Zhi grumbled as he shoved the chair forward. "Don't start acting like I'm your servant."
Chen Sanshi sat astride his horse, closing his eyes. He focused on the Mystic Pearl hidden in his robes. White threads of spiritual mist unfurled into the air, twisting through the rain before encircling his soldiers and linking them together.
Heavenly Book, Heavenly Formation—Mystic Pearl Amplification.
He had possessed the Mystic Pearl for quite some time. It was about time he gave it a proper test—to see what kind of power it truly held.
"Form the array!"
His voice roared over the thunder, echoing through the storm.
"Eighteen Nether Thunder Formation!"