Hulao Pass was one of the most treacherous fortresses under heaven, nestled between two towering peaks. From the front, one could overlook the vast Lingzhou Plain; from the rear, the path led straight into the Laizhou Basin. During times of peace, it held little importance. But once war broke out, it became a prize every army sought to seize.
And it wasn't just because of the terrain.
More crucially, Hulao Pass controlled the Zhanan River. This river ran through half of Laizhou and linked directly to the Tongtian River, forming a vital transport artery for grain and supplies.
In warfare, supply lines were everything.
Marching overland wasted immense resources—barely one-tenth of the supplies would ever reach their destination. But through waterways, efficiency increased severalfold. That was why Hulao Pass had to be held. If it fell, grain from the Zhanan River would flow endlessly into Laizhou, dragging the war into a stalemate that could last two years, even longer.
Conversely, if Hulao could hold for one hundred days, Yongle Prefecture's food stores would be depleted, and the war would end within months.
"Hulao Pass—there it is."
From ten li away, a massive fortress loomed between mountains like a crouching beast. The twin peaks flanking it were like twin demon-suppressing pillars, while the pass between them was the sealed maw of a great tiger.
"Report!"
"Subordinate Liang Pi, defending officer of Hulao Pass, reporting!"
A lieutenant general rode up swiftly to greet them.
"Liang Pi," Chen Sanshi said calmly, "tell me the exact situation at the pass."
"Fewer than 300 men remain. Food supplies are also running short."
Liang Pi glanced uneasily at the rows of tall, armored steeds of the Black Armored Cavalry. "Especially with so many warhorses, the daily grain consumption is staggering."
Fang Qingyun asked, "How long will it take to move grain here?"
"The nearest eight prefectures have already run out of food," Liang Pi replied. "It'll have to be shipped from the Tongtian River docks—at least 100 days on the route."
He cupped his hands respectfully. "Also, there was a traitor in Hulao Pass. A Hundred Commander had been taking bribes from the Southern Xu Kingdom and leaking intelligence. He's been executed. His head now hangs from the wall."
"I understand," Chen Sanshi said. "From now on, you and your men will leave the pass. Handle the logistics and grain transfer. All defensive operations within Hulao will be under my command."
"Yes, sir!"
Liang Pi saluted and left at once.
After entering Hulao Pass, Chen Sanshi gave another order. "Zhao Kang, take a squad and scout outside the pass. Find out who commands the enemy vanguard and their numbers. Report back immediately."
"Understood!"
Yongle Prefecture.
"Report!"
"Your Highness!"
"Bad news!"
At the hour of midnight, Prince Li Gong, resting against a grand armchair, was roused by the frantic voice of his subordinate. He slowly opened his eyes. "Speak."
"Southern Xu!"
The soldier knelt. "The Southern Xu dogs entered Lingzhou, but instead of attacking Hulao Pass right away, they split their forces. One part moved to Mount Ziwei, while the other occupied key territories in Lingzhou. Any officials who resisted—they killed them all!"
"Shameless!"
Vice General Liu Huanrong cursed loudly. "So much for being allies!"
"Calm down," Li Gong said with a cold smile. "The moment we invited them in, Lingzhou was already lost. Write a letter to Fan Shuzhen—tell him Lingzhou can be his. But the order stands: take Hulao Pass at once! Don't let short-sighted greed for one province blind him to the greater prize."
"Your Highness," Liu Huanrong hesitated. "There's something else strange about all this."
Li Gong gave him a sideways glance. "You're talking about Mount Ziwei, aren't you?"
"Yes," Liu Huanrong said gravely. "The Sheng people took an enormous risk this time. It all feels… unnatural."
"Mount Ziwei," Li Gong murmured, "has been in Great Qing's hands for over a hundred years. Generations of emperors searched it and found nothing out of the ordinary. If there's anything there, either it doesn't exist—or only the Cao family can find it."
"Does it have something to do with the Dao of Immortality?"
"Emperor Longqing," Liu Huanrong whispered, "it's said he truly ascended to become an immortal."
"Indeed he did. But do you think our Emperor isn't the same?"
Li Gong sneered. "Tell me—how could our current ruler, a woman, in just a few short years under the late Emperor's nose, win over half the officials in the capital? And after the Gate Seizure Coup, how did she stabilize the empire so quickly? You really think she did it through politics alone?"
"This..."
Liu Huanrong's eyes widened. "Your Highness, I never knew any of this!"
"This world has already changed," Li Gong said slowly, his gaze dark. "Every tale about Founding Emperor Cao Xie is true. He shattered 2,000 suits of armor not through mere mortal strength. He was never just a warrior.
"After hundreds of years, such miracles are bound to reappear. Immortals, divine traces—this world will see many more. Men like you and me are just frogs in a well."
"If that's true," Liu Huanrong said softly, "then the Southern Xu must have their own immortal traces. Are we really going to hand Mount Ziwei over to them?"
"That's for the Emperor to decide, not us," Li Gong said coldly. "Our only task is to fight and win. Speaking of which—has there been any progress in the investigation of Chen Sanshi's family?"
"We used the divine hawks to contact our agents inside Sheng territory. It took great effort, but we finally got the full dossier. I was so caught up in today's battles that I nearly forgot to mention it."
Liu Huanrong smacked his forehead. "That Gu Xinlan woman—she's a descendant of a disgraced official exiled from the Sheng Dynasty in the 55th year of Longqing. I'm sure Your Highness remembers what happened that year better than I do. She carries the Gu surname and is said to be from a line of Sheng officials. But how is she connected to our Emperor?"
"What if her surname isn't Gu?"
Li Gong nodded slowly. "I think I know who she really is. Keep this secret for now. We'll speak of it again after the war. And send another message to Fan Shuzhen—tell him I want Chen Sanshi's head!"
"And what about Deng Feng?"
"I already sent the Black Hawk to tell him to end his own life. With the Black Armored Cavalry marching toward Hulao Pass, he's surely dead by now. But someone reported that in Zhaotong Prefecture, General Deng fought until his last breath. He only failed to kill himself because he didn't want to implicate his men or the townsfolk."
"Hmm."
Li Gong nodded in satisfaction. "He did right by Great Qing. Once the war ends, have His Majesty grant him a posthumous title."
Hulao Pass.
"Report!"
Zhao Kang reported, "Fifty li outside the city, we found the Southern Xu vanguard. Leading them is the Fourteenth Prince, Fan Jiaxiao. Roughly 20,000 men have already camped around Silver Pine Cliff. Judging by their formation, the rest of their 100,000 troops will arrive soon."
"The Fourteenth Prince, Fan Jiaxiao," Fang Qingyun murmured, recalling the name. "At only twenty-five, he's already reached Major Achievement in the Meridian-Connecting Realm—just one step away from commanding a region of his own. Among Southern Xu's younger generation, he's definitely a rising star."
"From their marching formation, it's clear they plan a steady and cautious advance," Deng Feng judged calmly. "Once their 100,000 troops are assembled, if they attack day and night without pause, it'll be nearly impossible for us to hold."
"This battle can't even be fought," Sha Wenlong grumbled, counting on his fingers. "A 100,000-strong army, four Profound Manifestation experts! Even if General Deng and I fight at the front, how long could we last? A month at most. No—twenty days, tops."
"For now, there's only one solution."
Fang Qingyun's tone stayed calm and composed. "We must delay their unification. My suggestion—send out 500 cavalry. Circle around after leaving Hulao Pass and strike at midnight. Burn their supply wagons, then retreat immediately. Before dawn, launch a second surprise attack. Turn their vanguard into chaos.
"Of course," he continued, "this would only buy us five to seven days at best.
"And they're no fools—they'll prepare defenses. Those 500 men will likely take heavy losses.
"So, what do you think, my dear junior brother? Any better idea?"
After a long silence—the time it took for a cup of tea—Chen Sanshi finally spoke. "Senior Brother, we can't hold."
"Heh, you think that needs saying?" Sha Wenlong snorted. "Of course we can't hold—but what then? Orders are orders! Even if we die, we die here at Hulao Pass. Not a single step back! My Sha family has served the throne for generations. It's our duty to repay the empire. General Chen, I hope you're not thinking of retreat."
"One-eyed fool, shut your mouth."
Deng Feng glared at him. "Let the General finish."
"Senior Brother," Chen Sanshi turned to Fang Qingyun, "in your opinion, what's the best way to defend a city?"
"Oh?"
Fang Qingyun didn't hesitate. "The founder of military arts once said, 'The best defense is attack.' My plan just now followed that very principle—strike first, hit hard."
"Still not enough," Chen Sanshi said. "Your plan is indeed sound—strategically brilliant, tactically deceptive—but for our situation, it's not sufficient."
"So you don't plan to ambush their camp, but to fight head-on?" Fang Qingyun asked, realizing what his junior meant. "You want to gather momentum again. You…"
He stopped mid-sentence, heart trembling.
Win.
That was the word burning in Chen Sanshi's eyes.
Fang Qingyun looked up at his junior. Suddenly, he understood.
This battle—3,000 against 100,000—
His junior didn't just plan to survive.
He wanted… to win.
To win with 3,000 against 100,000.
Whether he could do it or not was uncertain. But that kind of resolve—how many in this world could possess it?
"You understand me, Senior Brother," Chen Sanshi said softly. "I must crush their momentum before it begins. A night raid would work—but not nearly as well as striking under the blazing sun."
"But…" Fang Qingyun frowned slightly. "Junior Brother, with so few men, even a night raid is risky. If it's a frontal assault, how many do you plan to take?"
"Let me go!"
Deng Feng stepped forward immediately. "Give me 300 cavalry. I'll guarantee at least 500 enemy heads—and five enemy officers!"
"General Deng is certainly capable," Fang Qingyun nodded slightly. "What do you think, Junior Brother?"
"Not suitable," Chen Sanshi replied without hesitation. "The enemy's vanguard has no major general for now. There's no need for General Deng to take the field."
"Then me?" Sha Wenlong offered. "I don't mind going myself."
"Not you either."
Chen Sanshi rose, fastening his iron helmet with steady hands. "Everyone knows that I, Chen Sanshi, am the commander of Hulao Pass. Only if I go personally will this strike have the greatest impact."
"Hmph."
Sha Wenlong frowned. "And how many men do you plan to bring?"
Chen Sanshi reached into the corner, picked up his long spear, and said calmly, "I'll go alone."
"Alone?" Sha Wenlong froze. "Are you insane, General Chen? Don't throw your life away!"
Hulao Pass was the key to everything. As the commanding general, Chen Sanshi could not risk himself lightly.
Of course, Sha Wenlong thought coldly, if this stubborn fool dies, so be it. Fang Qingyun is still here—losing one Meridian-Connecting cultivator won't matter much.
"Commander Chen," Deng Feng said solemnly, "at least let me accompany you."
"You'll remain hidden for now," Chen Sanshi said. "I have another use for you later."
He accepted an iron-bellied bow from one of his soldiers and walked out of the command tent without another word.
Moments later, the great gates of Hulao Pass opened wide.
From atop the high walls, the soldiers watched in stunned silence.
A single general in black armor strode across the open plain—an iron-bellied bow slung over his back, a long spear in hand. His pace quickened until his stride turned into a thunderous sprint, like a wild tiger escaping its cage, tearing through wind and dust toward the horizon.
A sharp neigh split the air—the cry of his White Swan horse, echoing like a dragon's roar. The steed's path aligned with his, and in an instant, the two became one streaking shadow that vanished into the vast wilderness, leaving only a rising storm of dust in their wake.
A white horse, a long spear, an iron-bellied bow—riding from Hulao Pass straight toward the enemy camp.
Though there be ten thousand men before me, still I shall go!
Silver Pine Cliff.
Southern Xu's vanguard camp.
Soldiers were still erecting tents and walls, everything in disciplined order.
Fourteenth Prince Fan Jiaxiao oversaw the process personally. Even in camp construction, he tolerated no carelessness.
Sword at his waist, he barked orders, "Make sure the tents are sturdy, and double the perimeter watch! We must not give the enemy a chance to raid us—especially that Fang Qingyun!"
"Strategist Ran already warned us—Chen Sanshi might use a camp raid to delay our army's assembly and deployment. We must be vigilant day and night. No carelessness is allowed!"
"Rest assured, Fourteenth Highness."
Deputy General Lang Jiping, son of the Imperial Uncle, was only twenty-two, yet already at Minor Achievement in the Meridian-Connecting Realm. This Southern Xu campaign was filled with nobles and prodigies.
He said confidently, "I'll personally lead the patrol later. Every path from Hulao Pass that could reach our camp will be heavily guarded. No surprises will occur. Once our full army arrives, we'll crush Hulao Pass. Then, when Fourteenth Highness slays Chen Sanshi and Fang Qingyun, your name will spread across the world!"
Fan Jiaxiao smiled faintly. "We're about the same age, yet that Chen Sanshi has already been recorded in the military classics. Before I came here, even the young princes in the South Study Hall of the palace were studying his 'Four Crossings of Hongze.' I truly wish to see this White-Robed General for myself!"
"Report!"
"One li outside the camp—someone's challenging to battle!"
Fan Jiaxiao immediately asked, "How many?"
"One!"
"What?" Fan Jiaxiao thought he'd misheard. "One man? Who? Are you sure he's not a messenger but actually here to challenge us?"
"Chen Sanshi!"
The scout answered, "He claims to be Chen Sanshi and demands to see Your Highness."
"Good!"
Murderous light flashed in Fan Jiaxiao's eyes.
"Your Highness, don't!"
Lang Jiping quickly stepped forward to stop him. "That man is cunning beyond belief. How could he possibly ride alone to his death? This is most likely a diversion to lure you out. Allow me to take 500 light cavalry instead. You must remain here to guard the camp in case of an ambush."
"Hmm."
Fan Jiaxiao quickly calmed himself. "Very well, go. But be cautious."
"Don't worry, Your Highness," Lang Jiping said, smirking. "It's just one man. What can he possibly do—slaughter 500 cavalry alone? At worst, he'll try to draw me into a trap. I'll simply refuse to take the bait."
With that, Lang Jiping mounted his horse and rode out.
Outside the Southern Xu camp.
Chen Sanshi sat tall on horseback, voice ringing like thunder. "Listen well, Southern Xu dogs! I am General Chen Sanshi, General of Distant Loyalty. I've brought 30,000 troops to defend Hulao Pass. Once Yongle Prefecture falls, we'll march south through Lingzhou and annihilate your 100,000-strong rabble! I came today to offer you a chance to surrender. Refuse it, and death awaits you all!"
"Don't listen to his nonsense!"
Lang Jiping galloped to the camp gates, spear in hand. "So you're Chen Sanshi? I've heard much about your cunning, but it seems you're just a loudmouth after all! Hulao Pass barely holds 3,000 men, yet you boast of 30,000—ridiculous!"
Chen Sanshi sneered. "You think I'd need to lie? Let me guess—the one who told you there were only 3,000 defenders… was Prince Li Gong of Tang, wasn't it?"
Lang Jiping's silence was all the answer needed.
"You Southern Xu should think carefully!"
Chen Sanshi's voice carried far across the plains. "If he'd told you the truth, would you still fight to take Hulao Pass for him? Of course not. He wanted to trick you into bleeding for Qing. And I'll wager he also told you that Hulao has no great general, didn't he?"
Lang Jiping snorted. "Nonsense! If there were another general, why would you, a mere Meridian-Connecting cultivator, command the defense?"
"You'll see soon enough whether there's one or not," Chen Sanshi said evenly. "When Qing begins to falter, they'll turn on you and march south alongside us against your Southern Xu Kingdom. I only warn you out of goodwill—don't be fooled by those deceitful Qing nobles."
"Enough of your drivel!"
Lang Jiping's lips curled into a mocking grin. "Chen, did you think I was wasting words with you out of politeness? Surrender now, and maybe I'll spare your life!"
The ground began to tremble—
"Da-da-da—!"
Thundering hoofbeats rose from both flanks of the plains. On each side, over 100 cavalry charged inward, converging fast.
"Chen Sanshi!" Lang Jiping laughed harshly. "Let's see what your so-called 'Four Crossings of Hongze' and 'Ten Thousand Soldiers Avoid the White Robe' amount to today! Brothers, kill him!"
Front, left, right—three directions.
Over 500 cavalrymen in total.
They had been lying in wait since Lang Jiping arrived; his talk had only been a distraction to encircle Chen Sanshi.
No matter how skilled Chen Sanshi was, once surrounded by cavalry, even he would be pinned long enough for reinforcements from the main camp to arrive. When tens of thousands poured out, they could drown him in sheer numbers.
And at this distance—there was no escape.
"You Southern Xu truly are a pack of treacherous dogs!"
Chen Sanshi sat calmly on his white horse, voice steady. "I came to warn you in good faith, and you repay me with cheap tricks. Farewell!"
"Farewell? You're not going anywhere!"
Lang Jiping lashed his whip, his warhorse lunging forward.
At that very instant—
The white horse beneath Chen Sanshi neighed sharply. In the blink of an eye, it turned into a blur of light, hooves barely touching the ground as if galloping on air. Before the encirclement could close, it burst straight through the tightening ring.
Within a few breaths, Chen Sanshi had left them far behind.
"What speed!"
"That horse's no ordinary beast!"
Lang Jiping gritted his teeth, humiliated. Every boast he'd just made turned to ash.
Chen Sanshi hadn't come unprepared—he had calculated everything, even their ambush.
"Deputy General Lang, do we pursue?" asked another officer, Yue Chen.
"Pursue, my ass!" Lang Jiping snapped. "He's definitely leading us into a trap. Follow him and you'll be corpses before sundown! Return to camp!"
But before they could turn back—
"Whizz—!"
"Clang—!"
A sharp whistle cut through the air, followed by the crash of metal on metal.
A fully armored soldier jerked violently, a three-edged armor-piercing arrow buried deep in his chest. The iron plate shattered like paper; the arrowhead punched straight through his heart.
"General!"
"He's back—Chen Sanshi's back!"
At about 300 steps away, the figure who had just escaped the encirclement suddenly turned his horse around. Chen Sanshi raised his iron-bellied bow. No one could even see him draw—but the sharp hiss of "whoosh, whoosh, whoosh" echoed across the plains. In the next instant, three cavalrymen toppled from their mounts.
"Outrageous!"
Lang Jiping cursed furiously. "I've long heard this man was born a hunter and an expert archer, but to kill from 300 steps away with such power—his arrows must weigh at least 50 stones each!"
"Hmph! Against a high-realm general, what use is archery?"
"I don't believe it!"
Yue Chen roared, unsheathing his long saber. He spurred his horse forward and charged straight ahead. He saw the man on the white horse nock another arrow, the movement so fluid it seemed lazy. Yue Chen grinned coldly, swinging his blade to deflect it.
"Woom!"
The air vibrated.
The instant the arrow reached him, Yue Chen realized it wasn't an arrow—it was a killing strike infused with overwhelming force, like a martial master's full-powered blow. His long saber was ripped from his grip; before he could even gasp, a cold sting pierced his throat. His vision blurred, his breath stopped, and he fell stiffly from his horse, eyes wide open, dead before he hit the ground.
One arrow—one kill.
A single shot felled a Deputy General.
The 500 cavalrymen who saw it froze in horror.
"Your arrow… carries internal force?!"
Lang Jiping's voice trembled. He could scarcely believe what he was seeing. Never in his life had he heard of such an impossible weapon.
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—"
The storm began again.
Chen Sanshi sat astride Qianxun, his white horse, two quivers hanging from each side of his saddle, another strapped behind his back. His iron-bellied bow thrummed like a living beast, its "buzz" rhythmic like music—only each note it played took a man's life.
"What are you bowmen standing there for? Fire back! Shoot him down!"
Lang Jiping roared from the rear, his voice cracking. "Everyone else, forward! He's only one man! He can't possibly kill you all! The one who captures him alive—reward of 1,000 taels of gold, promotion by three ranks!"
Greed overtook fear.
The cavalry rallied with desperate shouts, driving their horses toward the lone white figure ahead.
But—
The young general's draw and release were faster than the eye could track. Every blink meant another two soldiers fell dead.
The once-solid charge of 500 cavalry quickly thinned. By the time they reached bow range, half their number lay scattered on the grass. The formation was in shambles.
Chen Sanshi then calmly pulled back, widening the distance once more.
The Southern Xu mounted archers tried to retaliate—but their effective range was barely 100 steps.
Chen Sanshi's range, by contrast, was 300 steps—nearly a full li!
At such a distance, they could barely even make out his figure, let alone hit him. Their bows were useless toys.
After several failed charges, the 500 cavalry were reduced to barely 200 survivors.
"General! We can't catch him!"
The terrified riders looked like prey, helpless under the hunter's gaze.
"Retreat!"
Lang Jiping was shaking with rage and shame. He wanted nothing more than to charge ahead and kill Chen Sanshi himself—but he couldn't even get close.
If this went on, they'd all die, one by one, under that relentless bow.
He gave the order, and the 200 remaining cavalry turned and fled toward the main camp.
But that was when something far worse happened.
They couldn't escape.
Just as effortlessly as before, the white horse was now pursuing them. It glided over the earth like the wind itself, maintaining a perfect distance—exactly 300 steps. From that range, Chen Sanshi drew and released, his arrows harvesting lives with mechanical precision.
Man and horse moved together as if on a casual stroll.
To the Southern Xu cavalry, it was a nightmare that would never end.
They couldn't catch him. They couldn't outrun him.
They were trapped like beasts in an old hunter's snare.
"General! We—we're surrounded!"
Under the crushing dread, soldiers screamed wildly, convinced that countless troops were at their backs. All discipline broke. Each man only thought of one thing—getting back to the camp alive.
"Useless trash!"
"Get out of my way!"
Lang Jiping, humiliated and enraged, suddenly wheeled his horse around and charged straight toward Chen Sanshi. A heavy wolf-tooth mace gleamed in his grip as he spurred his steed forward.
If he could face the white horse head-on, his men might escape. And if the white horse didn't flee, he could at least die fighting. Better that than a meaningless death at range.
"Whoosh—"
A three-edged armor-piercing arrow screamed through the air, carrying the might of the True Dragon Force.
Lang Jiping, eyes wide, struck with all his strength. His mace smashed against the arrow midair, managing to deflect it—but the impact was so powerful that his warhorse reared up, unable to bear the force.
Another arrow followed instantly.
This time, it pierced straight through the horse's neck.
"Boom!"
The beast collapsed. Lang Jiping landed solidly on his feet as the white horse thundered closer, barely 100 steps away now.
His blood surged violently, his Exploding Blood state igniting as he poured all his strength into speed. For a brief moment, he moved faster than any beast alive—close enough to rival even Chen Sanshi's mount.
He no longer dared to block arrows. That would only waste precious time and strength. His plan was simple—rush through the barrage and close the distance.
Close combat!
That single thought consumed him.
Even if he died, he would die seeing the famed Dragon Spear of Nation-Suppression for himself. He refused to perish without at least crossing weapons once.
"Bang—"
Under the strain of his body pushed far beyond its limits, Lang Jiping became a blur—a streak of shadow racing forward with inhuman speed. His movements were erratic, ghostly, without pattern or rhythm.
Eighty steps!
Fifty steps!
Finally, only thirty steps remained.
The man surnamed Chen drew his bowstring fully—but didn't release.
As expected.
At this range and speed, it was impossible to aim accurately.
Then, at twenty steps, the bowstring hummed again.
Lang Jiping was ready. His twisted movement shifted him sharply to the side, leaving only an afterimage in place. But even so—he didn't dodge the arrow.
He clearly saw the arrow's path—it hadn't even been aimed his way!
It shouldn't have hit him.
Impossible!
He had no time to think. He channeled his full strength into his iron wolf-tooth mace, swinging it down to meet the incoming arrow, hoping to repeat his earlier defense.
But this time—
What he saw wasn't an arrow.
It was a dragon.
"Boom—!"
That arrow carried a boundless, ocean-like power. It roared toward him like a raging flood dragon, slamming into his mace with a sound like a massive bronze bell.
Lang Jiping's arms went numb; his tiger's mouth split open, blood oozing out. Even with all his strength gripping the weapon, the sheer impact sent him flying backward more than ten steps before he crashed hard into the packed earth.
"Woom—"
The third arrow came slower.
It gave him just enough time to regain his footing. Like a dying beast, he summoned the last of his strength, leaping aside. This time he saw clearly—he would dodge it for sure.
Yet he didn't.
No matter how he moved, he couldn't evade it.
That arrow—it truly was alive, a dragon of death that could not be escaped.
"Crack—!"
His heart-guard shattered.
The three-edged arrow punched through his armor as though it were paper, shattered his ribs, and pierced clean through his heart. Even though it didn't exit his body, the violent force within blasted his heart to pulp.
"Ahh…"
Lang Jiping's pupils dilated. Blood gushed from his mouth like a fountain. His hands clutched the arrow shaft in his chest as his body stiffened, collapsing backward onto the dirt. Even as he died, he couldn't understand.
He hadn't even managed to cross weapons with Chen Sanshi. He hadn't even been qualified to.
In the spreading pool of blood, he finally stopped breathing—his eyes still wide open.
"Pft—"
Riding past on Qianxun, Chen Sanshi leaned down and calmly pulled the arrow from Lang Jiping's corpse. The arrows were forged from ghost-vein wood—only twelve of them existed. They could not be wasted.
He hadn't fired earlier because he'd been gathering strength.
That nameless deputy general had reached Minor Achievement in the Meridian-Connecting Realm. Without charging up, even three ghost-vein arrows might not have been enough to kill him outright.
"Hyah!"
After retrieving his arrows, Chen Sanshi urged his horse forward again, chasing down the retreating Southern Xu cavalry.
The fight with Lang Jiping had taken only a few breaths of time.
Another volley followed. With each shot, riders fell like wheat beneath a scythe. Of the more than 100 who remained, barely a dozen survived—all Transforming Strength realm warriors who required ghost-vein arrows to kill quickly.
This close to the enemy's main camp, he couldn't linger. Yet he also didn't want to waste more ghost-vein arrows.
So he drew his spear and charged directly into the enemy ranks.
No one lasted a single exchange.
Every flash of the Five Tigers Soul-Breaking Spear brought down another body. The sound of steel piercing flesh was followed by terrified horses bolting into the distance.
"Rumble—"
The thunder of hooves echoed again. More than 3,000 Southern Xu cavalry were racing toward the field.
Chen Sanshi deliberately left two survivors, then reined his horse and vanished into the distance.
In the Southern Xu camp, Fan Jiaxiao's anxiety had reached its peak. After making full preparations against a possible raid, he finally decided to lead men out to see for himself what was happening.
He wanted to see what exactly Chen Sanshi intended by charging alone to the camp gates.
But what he saw froze his blood.
The ground was littered with corpses.
Each one had an arrow buried in its chest—every single shot straight through the heart. From the looks of it, hundreds of expert archers must have fired in formation. And every one of them would have to be a peerless marksman.
"Ambush!"
"Form up!"
Fan Jiaxiao shouted.
The 3,000 cavalry tightened into formation, shields raised as they advanced cautiously.
A few hundred steps later, two soldiers came stumbling toward them, screaming in terror.
"What happened?!"
Fan Jiaxiao demanded, "Where's Deputy General Lang? Where's the ambush?"
"Fourteenth Highness!" one of them cried, nearly hysterical. "There was no ambush, Your Highness—none! We were surrounded… surrounded by arrows! Everywhere—arrows!"
"Thud!"
The other survivor—barely alive—fell off his horse, gasping for breath. His eyes darted wildly behind him as though expecting death to come galloping from the horizon at any moment.
"No ambush… surrounded?!"
Fan Jiaxiao's brow furrowed sharply. "Fools! Do you even hear yourselves?!"
"It was Chen Sanshi!" the second man shouted, his mind barely coherent. "That white horse… that man on the white horse! You can't stop him! You can't chase him! You can't even run away!"
"You're telling me," Fan Jiaxiao said through clenched teeth, "that one man killed 500 of my cavalry?"
The terror in the man's eyes gave him his answer.
"Impossible!" Fan Jiaxiao's voice rose in fury. "Five hundred cavalry! There were two Meridian-Connecting cultivators among them—countless Transforming Strength experts! And Chen Sanshi is just one man! A mere Meridian-Connecting general! Are you pigs?!"
What made it even more terrifying was this—judging from the corpses, nearly all had died from arrow wounds.
One man. One bow. One white horse.
And those arrows… could actually kill generals of the Meridian-Connecting Realm? That was absurd beyond reason!
Behind Fan Jiaxiao, the several thousand Southern Xu cavalrymen erupted in chaos. It was as if they'd just been told a tale from the gods.
"Five hundred men…"
"Two generals!"
"They didn't even touch him—and all of them died?!"
"Is there really someone this monstrous in the world?"
"Impossible!"
While they were still frozen in disbelief, a thunderous voice echoed across heaven and earth.
"Fourteenth brat—!"
"Earlier, this Chen came to speak with you, yet you dared not answer. How discourteous! Take one of my arrows!"
A white speck appeared about a li away.
By the time they heard his voice, the arrow had already been loosed. Fan Jiaxiao's face changed drastically. He drew his sword in a panic to block, realizing too late that this arrow was no ordinary shot.
"Clang!"
Metal clashed with metal. Sparks burst where the arrowhead struck the sword's edge.
Even with his qi force poured into the blade at the last instant, the arrow's crushing momentum sent Fan Jiaxiao flying backward. He tumbled from his horse, crashing hard to the ground as the cavalry behind him erupted into panic.
"Protect His Highness!"
"Form ranks!"
"Boom—!"
Thousands of riders surged forward, forming a living wall around their prince.
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—"
Another dozen arrows screamed through the air. Every soldier below the high-ranking generals was struck dead on the spot!
"Shields! Shields!"
The heavy Black Armored tower shields arrived belatedly.
"Damn it!" Fan Jiaxiao shouted as he snatched up one of the arrows that had nearly killed him. "These arrows… they actually store force!" He snapped the shaft in fury and flung it aside. "After him! Go!"
"Fourteenth Highness—he's gone!"
"Whoosh, whoosh—"
"Then chase!"
"He's gone again!"
This pattern repeated five or six times.
Each time they pursued, the white horse would appear just far enough to draw them out—then vanish again, only for another volley to fall from nowhere.
By the end of half an hour, the Southern Xu lost another hundred men.
In total, one man had killed six hundred.
"Retreat!"
Even Fan Jiaxiao's voice now carried fear. "Back to the camp! Everyone, hold position and do not step out!"
Even after they withdrew to the camp, the White Horse General still pursued them from behind, killing another dozen riders before finally halting when the outer shield formations were set up.
"Set ambushes!" Fan Jiaxiao barked, trembling with rage and lingering terror. "Go to the flanks—lay traps in advance! If he dares return, he won't leave alive!"
He replayed the scene in his mind, still shaken. "Send word to my eighth brother—tell him to dispatch a grand general immediately. Go!"
It was now painfully clear.
Without at least one general of the Profound Elephant Realm stationed in the vanguard, they couldn't even set up camp safely—let alone attack.
In the central army camp, Ran Jingxuan gently set down the intelligence scroll. "We've all been focused on Chen Sanshi's military cunning… but we seem to have forgotten that he achieved Meridian-Connecting in just two years. His cultivation talent is monstrous."
"This is too much," Fan Shuzhen muttered, unable to accept it. "Normally, even a Profound Elephant Realm master who burns his life force might only break through five or six hundred soldiers' armor lines, and that's if he fights equals in rank! But this Chen Sanshi—he wiped out two Meridian cultivators and walked away without a scratch. Not even a hair harmed! If he advances another realm, would we even be able to fight wars anymore?"
"Notify General Peng," Ran Jingxuan sighed. "Tell him to withdraw from Ziwei Mountain and reinforce the front lines immediately. Once you and I stabilize Lingzhou, we'll move to Hulao Pass ourselves."
"Strategist," Fan Shuzhen asked, "once Peng Yunheng arrives, should we have them test Hulao with a few small assaults first? Chen Sanshi claimed there were 30,000 defenders—said Li Gong lied to us."
"No," Ran Jingxuan refused at once. "Chen Sanshi didn't do this for show. His actions were deliberate. After this massacre, the vanguard's morale must be shattered. Before the battle has even begun, their fighting spirit is gone. Forcing an assault now would just be suicide. The walls won't fall that way. Here's what we'll do—swap the left and front armies. When General Peng reaches the front, give them seven days to rest. Only then will we discuss attacking again."
"Understood, Strategist."
By evening, Chen Sanshi didn't repeat his earlier tactics. A surprise works once, maybe twice. Try it again, and he'd fall right into a prepared trap.
[...]
Technique: Archery — Perfect (Limit Break +1)
Progress: (248/2000)
Just as he'd predicted, arrows that could store force were deadly beyond measure on the battlefield. Paired with Qianxun, the ghostly white warhorse, the result was something even Martial Saints couldn't achieve.
Even a Martial Saint had to fight up close.
But Chen Sanshi killed unseen and vanished without trace, ending lives from over a li away.
How could any army not tremble before that?
His goal was achieved.
And it wasn't just about morale anymore.
From this moment on, the enemy's collapse had already begun silently.
A hundred thousand troops?
Against three thousand black-armored soldiers—perhaps they wouldn't stand unbroken after all.