"Hu—"
In a desolate, uninhabited wasteland, Chen Sanshi took a deep breath and adjusted his breathing rhythm. The Fire Breathing Method activated, drawing strands of spiritual energy through his nostrils into his body. The qi merged into his limbs and bones, circulating through the meridians as he practiced stance and movement techniques. After a complete cycle of refinement, the energy nourished his flesh.
Above his head, just beyond the crown of his skull, a faint shadow of black mist formed—an apparition clad in dark robes.
The Upper Body's Second Divine Aspect—the Hair Spirit—had manifested.
Its name: Xuan Fuhua, courtesy name Dao Heng, height two cun and one fen, clothed in black.
[Technique: Dragon Scripture — Progress: 25/100]
"Boom—!"
Another barrier shattered.
Chen Sanshi exhaled heavily and lowered his spear.
The Three Divisions, Eight Aspects, and Twenty-Four True Spirits—each True Spirit represented one part of the human body.
Every time a part was refined, the whole body advanced.
When the Brain Spirit, Jue Yuanzi, awakened, it enhanced one's perception and reaction speed in battle. The newly-formed Hair Spirit, Xuan Fuhua, in turn, greatly heightened his sensory awareness.
When all eight of the Upper Body Spirits were awakened, true qi could be condensed into true force.
After storing away the Dragon Gall Silver Spear, Chen Sanshi called for Qianxun and rode back toward the military camp.
Tomorrow morning, the entire army would march out. Beyond the city walls, they would face the three hundred thousand strong army of the Western Qi Kingdom head-on.
Tonight, Wang Jun had said, two more martial cultivators would arrive.
The enemy was no exception.
In the immortal cultivation world, every sect was desperately recruiting manpower, sending people through teleportation arrays or rift seals to support various kingdoms in their struggle over the spiritual vein territories.
In the end, this war had been started by cultivators.
Back at the camp—
"Grand Commander!"
Xia Cong was already waiting at the gate. "Two more Immortal Masters have arrived. They claim to be at the Perfection Stage of Mortal Shedding, about equal to the Martial Saint Realm. They're waiting in the command tent for your orders."
"Mm."
Chen Sanshi lifted the tent flap—and saw two familiar faces.
A frail, weathered old man and a plump, charming woman.
Wei Xuan and Song Guizhi.
Unexpected, yet not entirely surprising.
After all, the Daze Market had long cooperated with the Shengyun Sect. The cultivators hired through the market naturally had a high chance of being sent to assist the Great Sheng Dynasty.
"Hiss—"
Wei Xuan clearly recognized the white robe. He and his partner exchanged a glance but said nothing.
"Chen Sanshi," Wang Jun introduced, "these two are Wei Xuan and Song Guizhi—both body-refining cultivators from the Immortal Realm. In your Eastern Divine Continent's terms, they're Martial Saints. They'll be staying to assist in the battle."
Chen Sanshi nodded slightly. "Wei Xuan, Song Guizhi—after we leave the city tomorrow, you two will hold the left flank and await orders before engaging."
"Understood."
Both of them agreed immediately.
"The rest of the army will move as planned. March out and form ranks!"
"Your subordinate obeys!"
"Your subordinate obeys!"
"Rumble—!"
At mao hour, just as the horizon began to pale, the gates of Yunduan City swung open. Under a sea of fluttering banners and deafening war drums, one hundred and twenty thousand soldiers surged out into the boundless wilderness.
High above, cultivators could be seen flying by sword, only to be intercepted by others.
Reconnaissance.
And also…
Assassination.
"Chen Sanshi, be cautious," Wang Jun warned. "You're only at the Perfection Stage of Mortal Shedding. The enemy might have cultivators from the Late Stage of Qi Refining. If your position is exposed, they could behead you instantly."
At the start of a war, Han Xiang's favorite tactic was decapitation.
Kill the general, and the remaining soldiers—unable to understand military command—would collapse in confusion.
Thus, the central command tent, or the "headquarters," was kept absolutely secret.
Not just for their army—the Western Qi forces did the same.
Even Han Xiang would never expose his location easily.
He was a War Immortal, not a Sword Immortal.
If he was caught alone and surrounded by cultivators, he too could fall.
Once he finished giving instructions, Wang Jun took to the skies to keep watch.
"Brother Chen!"
Wei Xuan waited until no one else was near before speaking quietly, "So you're a native of this world—and a general, no less?"
"Yeah."
Chen Sanshi glanced at his partner. "It seems your Dao companion has recovered."
"She has, all thanks to your Xi Bi Fish. If you'd come one day later, she'd have been beyond saving."
Wei Xuan and Song Guizhi both clasped their fists respectfully.
Chen Sanshi returned the gesture. "There's no need for thanks. It was a fair trade—we owe each other nothing."
Wei Xuan shook his head. "That's not true! If you hadn't arrived in time, I'd have died under Lu Boqin's blade!"
At the mention of that name, Wei Xuan's voice turned sharp, then softened into a sigh. "Brother Chen, do you know that one of the cultivators you killed that day in the Enforcement Hall was from the Li family?"
"The Li family?"
Chen Sanshi frowned. "You mean the ones who oversee the Daze Market?"
"Exactly."
Wei Xuan's tone grew hoarse. "The entire spiritual vein business of Daze Market belongs to the Li family. They have a Foundation Establishment ancestor in their clan. Ordinary cultivators who offend them rarely survive. Now, your wanted notice is posted all over the market—they want to bring you back for questioning."
"Even if they know," Chen Sanshi said evenly, "that day, it was the Enforcement Hall cultivators who grew greedy first—they sided with Lu Boqin to kill and seize my treasure."
"I've already explained all that on your behalf," Wei Xuan said helplessly, "but the Li family insists you should've surrendered and reported to the Enforcement Hall. They claim it was for them to handle, not for you to kill privately. This warrant… I'm afraid it won't be withdrawn."
"It's fine."
Song Guizhi finally spoke. "Since fate brought us together here, let me at least warn you—don't ever go near Daze Market again."
"You foolish woman," Wei Xuan sighed. "It's not that simple. Sooner or later, more cultivators will come to the Eastern Divine Continent for that bounty. They'll come looking for Brother Chen. With his reputation, it won't be hard for them to find him."
"How many forces does the Li family command?"
Chen Sanshi paused. "I mean, how many cultivators?"
"The Li clan's patriarch is in the mid-stage of Foundation Establishment, and their clan has nearly one hundred cultivators. Add the hired rogue cultivators, and there are at least two hundred in total. Brother Chen, why do you ask?"
Wei Xuan's expression turned grave. "Don't tell me… you're thinking of leading mortal soldiers into the Immortal Realm for war?"
"Just asking casually," Chen Sanshi replied calmly. "Still, I appreciate your warning." He straightened his back and said seriously, "Let's focus on the battle before us. Once the fighting starts, I'll need you two to hold the right flank and steady the formation."
"Rest easy!"
Wei Xuan stroked his beard and smiled. "Though this old man is getting on in years, I'm no weaker than an ordinary Martial Saint. And one thing I do have—something others lack—is experience. Back in the Eastern Yue Kingdom, I once led troops to resist an invasion of foreign tribes."
He laughed softly, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "Back in our youth, my wife and I roamed the martial world. Before we turned thirty, no one under heaven could best us."
"Later, I came to understand that a true hero should serve his country and its people. So, we stationed ourselves in Hanyang City and guarded it for over twenty years. Only after the foreign invaders finally retreated did we enter the Immortal Realm."
At that, he let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh. "Who could've guessed? Once we entered the cultivation world, it was like a mayfly gazing up at the vast blue sky… Forget it, there's no point talking about the past. In short, this old life of mine is yours to command, Brother Chen."
"I'll do everything in my power not to fail your trust."
Mounting his White Swan horse, Chen Sanshi rode off, spear gleaming faintly in the night wind.
Meanwhile, in the Western Qi army's central camp—
"Immortal Master, they've taken the bait!"
Zhong Wuxin reported solemnly, "The Grand Commander's army and the Hongze Battalion have both left the city in full force. They're arrayed fifty li from here, clearly preparing for a head-on engagement. Your strategy works flawlessly."
"Mm."
Han Xiang placed a white stone on a quiet corner of the chessboard and murmured, "Then let it begin."
"Dong, dong, dong—"
War drums thundered across the wilderness as countless banners snapped in the wind.
Two massive armies faced each other in formation. After reorganizing, both sides divided their forces into three wings—center, left, and right. From above, their ranks formed two immense rectangles that mirrored each other across the plain.
Before the decisive clash, both armies sent out vanguard units to probe and test each other on the flatlands.
Within the Great Sheng's main force, a unit led by a mid-stage Qi Refining cultivator suddenly split off and launched a flanking attack. Striking from the side, they caught the Western Qi army completely off guard—winning a swift and stunning victory.
"Victory report!"
"Grand Commander, victory report!"
Inside the Great Sheng army's central tent—though "central" was only in name, for its real location lay slightly southward, toward the right flank. The tent itself was small, no larger than that of a Lieutenant General, not the grand tent of a commanding Commmander.
It was a ruse—meant to conceal the commander's true position.
Ever since the appearance of "Immortal Masters" in war, this method became essential. Every general had to protect themselves this way. Except for trusted aides, almost no one knew where the actual command post was located.
In that unremarkable little tent, Chen Sanshi stood with hands clasped behind his back, studying the battlefield map laid out before him.
"Grand Commander! Victory report!"
Teng Le rushed in, sword at his side, excitement plain on his face. "The left army's vanguard has crushed the Western Qi's advance troops—over two thousand enemy heads taken! One Major General of Profound Manifestation captured alive, one Lieutenant General of Meridian-Connecting subdued, one Western Qi Immortal Master gravely wounded! Among the prisoners are also nobles and members of the royal family!"
"The left army's vanguard…"
Chen Sanshi frowned slightly. "The vanguard general should be Dong Lingbo, and the supporting cultivator—a rogue named Ma Zhen."
"Exactly!"
Teng Le nodded eagerly. "Immortal Master Ma himself! First victory secured! The troops' morale has soared. General Dong and Immortal Master Ma are now on their way to the command tent to claim their reward."
Chen Sanshi turned to look at him. After a pause, he asked, "They're already here?"
"Yes—yes, they're waiting outside," Teng Le stammered, uneasy under Chen Sanshi's calm gaze. "In battle, rewarding those who take the first merit is tradition. It boosts morale and encourages the troops—it's always been Great Sheng's way, hasn't it?"
"Mm. No problem."
Chen Sanshi nodded. "Let them in."
"Greetings, Grand Commander!"
Dong Lingbo entered first, blood still splattered across his face.
Beside him stood Ma Zhen, the mid-stage Qi Refining cultivator—an elderly man past seventy, yet his complexion was rosy and his energy vibrant, carrying the bearing of an immortal sage.
"Dong Lingbo, well done."
Chen Sanshi's voice was steady. "You are granted a reward of ten thousand taels in gold, one hundred thousand taels in silver, and five Profound Manifestation-grade elixirs. I'll submit a memorial to the court recommending your promotion to General of Bright Courage."
As overall commander, Chen Sanshi held authority over all military affairs except noble titles. The court rarely refused such requests—clear rewards and punishments kept discipline sharp.
"Thank you, Grand Commander!"
Dong Lingbo's face flushed with excitement. "This subordinate requests to continue serving as vanguard. I'll charge through fire and water for the Great Sheng Dynasty without hesitation!"
"Ma Zhen."
Wang Jun spoke up. "You're a rogue cultivator, aren't you? Your contribution is noted. Once this campaign ends, I'll report your merit to the Shengyun Sect. You'll get every reward you deserve."
"Good."
Ma Zhen clasped his fists. "Then I'll thank you in advance, Daoist friend."
"Both of you may withdraw," Chen Sanshi said quietly. "You've earned first merit for the army, but don't let pride take root. See to your troops and await further orders."
After granting the rewards, Chen Sanshi dismissed the two and turned to Wang Jun. "Keep an eye on Ma Zhen. If anything strange happens, report to me immediately."
"Hmm?"
Wang Jun frowned. "You suspect this small victory might not be what it seems?"
"You're too paranoid," snorted Qu Yuanxiang. "That Ma Zhen might not be of our Shengyun Sect, but he took the commission under a blood contract. What problem could there be?"
"Enough," Wang Jun cut him off coldly. "Whether there's a problem or not—I'll find out soon enough."
That night, at midnight, Wang Jun returned with a grave expression.
"Well?"
Qu Yuanxiang's tone was impatient, eager to prove himself right. "Did you find anything?"
"Ma Zhen sneaked out in the middle of the night when no one was around. He used a sound-transmission talisman to contact someone mysterious. I couldn't catch what he said clearly, but it's almost certain…"
Wang Jun's voice grew cold. "He's reporting to Western Qi."
"Impossible!"
Qu Yuanxiang slammed his wine gourd down hard. "Has Ma Zhen gone mad? His blood contract is still in the sect's hands!"
"He has a grandson," Wang Jun said after a pause, trying to recall the details. "Not the most gifted kid, but not hopeless either. Our Shengyun Sect had promised that after reclaiming the spiritual vein, we'd take his grandson in as an outer disciple. Looks like Han Xiang offered him something better. Ma Zhen's betraying us to trade his own life for his grandson's future."
"That damned old man!"
Qu Yuanxiang cursed. "I'll kill him myself right now!"
"Qu Yuanxiang," Chen Sanshi ordered sharply, "from this moment on, you'll go to the right flank and join Wei Xuan and the others to steady the formation. Without my command, you're not allowed anywhere near the central tent."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Qu Yuanxiang glared. "I'm offering to kill a traitor for you, and you're kicking me out? Don't think too highly of yourself, Chen Sanshi. You really believe this battle can't be fought without you?"
"Enough!"
Wang Jun snapped. "Senior Brother Qu, this is my last warning."
"Fine! Do whatever you want!"
Qu Yuanxiang flicked his sleeve and stormed off. "Let's see how long you last without me protecting you. When Western Qi's assassins come for your head, don't say I didn't warn you!"
As those words echoed, Tong Xiaochu's eyes suddenly widened in realization. "Grand Commander Chen, I get it now! It's just like at Suishi River before—this so-called 'small victory' was another setup by Han Xiang! He's using Ma Zhen to find the location of our central command tent! Luckily, you were cautious, otherwise, we'd have been completely fooled!"
"Yeah…"
Teng Le shivered as a chill crept up his spine. "If one of our allied Immortal Masters is actually a spy, that's terrifying. Grand Commander, since we know now, shouldn't we eliminate Ma Zhen immediately, before he can send more information?"
"The tent's position must be changed too," Wang Jun added quickly. "If not, we'll be at a disadvantage."
"No."
Chen Sanshi interrupted firmly. "Do not touch Ma Zhen. Not yet—not before the real battle begins. The command tent stays where it is. Everything remains as it is. At dawn, we'll sound the drums and march."
"This…"
Tong Xiaochu and the others exchanged puzzled glances. They didn't understand his reasoning, but they dared not question a direct order.
"Very well," Tong Xiaochu said at last, his tone grave. "Then, Grand Commander, please make the final arrangements. Once daylight breaks, we may face the decisive battle."
"Xia Cong."
Chen Sanshi gestured. "Summarize the situation."
"Yes, sir."
Xia Cong stood straight, reciting from memory. "The Western Qi forces that attacked Fengzhou have all withdrawn to the front. A total of thirty-five legions, fully arrayed fifty li from our position. Like us, they've split into three wings—left, center, and right—each numbering around one hundred thousand troops, though that could change at any time."
One hundred seventy thousand against three hundred fifty thousand.
Unlike any previous war, this time there would be no flanking maneuvers—no tricks. It would be a straight-up clash.
If they broke…
It would mean total annihilation.
And on paper, Western Qi's strength far outmatched Great Sheng's—nearly double their number. Under Han Xiang, the so-called War Immortal, their troops were no rabble. Their ranks were orderly, discipline strict, morale high. Those earlier skirmish losses meant nothing to them.
If one were to describe it—
The Western Qi army was a tiger at its prime, muscles taut, fangs bared.
The Grand Commander's troops were but a lean young beast, still growing into its claws.
In a direct fight, anyone could see how it would end.
Tomorrow would be the true battle.
For a long moment, the command tent fell silent. Even Wang Jun's usual confidence dimmed.
If they lost here—not only would the Mang Mountain spiritual vein fall, but the Great Sheng Dynasty would lose at least five prefectures. After that, the western frontier could no longer be held.
"Then why not surrender?"
The silence shattered.
"...Surrender?"
Tong Xiaochu blinked in disbelief, his face twisting. "Grand Commander Chen, please—don't joke at a time like this. We'd rather die here than surrender."
"Exactly!"
Teng Le stepped forward. "We're all counting on you to turn the tide!"
"So, none of you plan to surrender?"
Chen Sanshi's tone stayed calm. When everyone nodded, he suddenly raised his voice—his words like thunder slamming into their skulls.
"Then why speak of defeat before battle?!
"You—each of you—have fought countless wars or are born of military blood. And yet you let that chess-playing brat Han Xiang scare you with cheap tricks?!"
"War Immortal? Don't make me laugh.
"Listen well!
"I'm going to fight that so-called War Immortal head-on!
"Whoever spreads despair or shakes my army's resolve—before battle begins, I'll take his head myself and hang it on the banner!"
His roar crashed like a storm inside the tent, cutting through their doubt like a blade.
"Grand Commander!"
Tong Xiaochu dropped to one knee, his voice fierce. "Give the order!"
"Tong Xiaochu, hear my command!"
Chen Sanshi began assigning the battle formations.
"I order you to lead forty thousand troops of the Grand Commander's army. Together with Teng Le, you'll hold the left flank. Form the 'Eighteen Nether Thunder Formation.' When the central army engages, feign an assault on the enemy's right wing—do not get entangled!"
"Yes, sir!"
"Wang Zhi and Chu Shixiong, hear my order! You two will command ninety thousand troops from the Supervising Army and ten thousand from the Hongze Battalion. Along with Wei Xuan, Song Guizhi, and Qu Yuanxiang, you'll hold the right flank. Form the 'Thousand-Faced Chaotic Slaughter Formation.' Once the center begins, crush the enemy's left wing with everything you have. If you succeed, don't stop and don't look back—charge all the way to Suishi River and cut off their supply line!"
"We obey!"
"Wang Jun, hear my order! You and I will lead thirty thousand Grand Commander troops and five thousand from the Hongze Battalion to hold the center. Form the 'Nine Heavens Heavenly Soldiers Demon-Suppressing Formation.' When the standoff begins, just keep the drums beating. When they come for us—we fight to the death!"
"Understood."
Wang Jun nodded firmly.
"Wait!"
As the last command left Chen Sanshi's lips, Tong Xiaochu frowned at the map, sensing something was off. "Grand Commander Chen, there's something I don't understand."
"According to the Grand Commander's deployment, nearly all our main forces are concentrated on the right flank.
But… the location of the central command tent has already been exposed.
Once the battle starts tomorrow, Han Xiang will definitely send the bulk of the Western Qi army straight for the center.
If that happens, Grand Commander, without enough troops by your side—won't you be in grave danger?"
"Exactly," Wang Zhi added, slapping his forehead. "This setup is like laying a chunk of raw meat before starving wolves. Isn't that way too risky?"
"You're both right," Chen Sanshi said calmly. "That's exactly what I want—to draw all their main forces toward my central army! While they're busy charging me, our main force will strike their left flank!"
He leaned over the sand table, his tone sharp and steady. "To fish, you need bait. To lure a beast, you need blood. Only when their strength gathers at one point will their other lines weaken.
I'll be the bait. I'll be the blood.
Once battle begins, don't worry about what happens to the central army. Just focus on breaking through their lines. Once you crush their left wing and circle around to Suishi River, the three hundred thousand soldiers of Western Qi will have nowhere to run—they'll be trapped like turtles in a jar!"
The entire tent fell silent.
The supreme commander was using himself as bait.
This deployment was like a game of strategy—similar to Tian Ji's horse racing tactic, only this time, Chen Sanshi was using his own life to disguise a decoy "superior horse." When Western Qi's main force charged in, they'd realize too late that the real superior horse had already struck elsewhere.
Once the generals grasped his intent, the confusion in their eyes turned into blazing fervor.
Their commander was gambling his life to win them a chance at victory—how could they not fight with everything they had, even unto death?
"Remember my orders," Chen Sanshi commanded, waving his hand. "When dawn breaks, move swiftly to your positions right before battle begins. Don't expose yourselves early."
"Yes, sir!"
The generals saluted and withdrew one after another.
Wang Jun flew into the night sky on his sword for a final inspection.
Inside the quiet tent, only Chen Sanshi and Wang Zhi remained.
"Junior Brother," Wang Zhi said after a long silence. He had been watching Chen Sanshi, who stood motionless before the sand table. "Be honest with me—how much chance do we really have to win this battle?"
"Not defeat."
Chen Sanshi spoke only two words.
"Not defeat…"
Wang Zhi narrowed his eyes. "So, you mean you can guarantee we won't lose—but not necessarily win?"
Even with his brother's foresight and bold strategy—using himself as bait—it wasn't a guaranteed victory.
Since Chen Sanshi joined the army, Wang Zhi had never missed a single campaign alongside him. Yet this was the first time he'd seen an opponent who could fight his brother to a standstill—equal in cunning, equal in resolve.
Of course, when one hundred seventy thousand faced three hundred fifty thousand, and still managed to retreat intact, that alone would already count as a "great victory."
If someone else were commanding—say, Tong Xiaochu as Commmander—the result would be nothing short of total annihilation.
Meanwhile, in the Western Qi camp—
"Immortal Master, Chen Sanshi's position has been confirmed," Zhong Wuxin reported. "When battle begins tomorrow, we can strike straight at his central command!"
With hundreds of thousands of troops spread across dozens of li, finding the true central tent would've been impossible without an insider.
"So easy?"
Han Xiang sat before his chessboard, as always. "The man in white hasn't suspected anything?"
"No," Zhong Wuxin replied with certainty. "Ma Zhen's life is in the hands of Shengyun Sect—they'd never imagine he'd risk everything. The only thing we should worry about is… those strange formations."
"Eighteen Nether Thunder Formation, Nine Heavens Heavenly Soldiers Demon-Suppressing Formation…"
Han Xiang murmured as a thin booklet appeared in his hand.
Zhong Wuxin accepted it and flipped through, his eyes widening. "Immortal Master, you actually obtained their formation manuals?"
"What's so difficult about that?" Han Xiang said lightly. "These formations were made public two years ago by the old emperor of Sheng. Ask any city general and they'll hand you a copy. The issue isn't the formations themselves—it's that only Chen Sanshi can truly bring out their full power.
"In others' hands, these are just top-tier tactics—useful, yes, but not enough to change the tide.
From what I've observed, these formations manifest their phenomena only under special conditions—perhaps when heaven, earth, and man align, or when supported by some unique mystical force."
"Then…"
Zhong Wuxin hesitated. "Tomorrow, during the decisive battle—will he be able to use them?"
"I don't practice divination," Han Xiang replied softly, setting down his chess piece halfway. "How could I see the future? Let's wait and see how he makes his next move."
The next morning—
At mao hour, before the sky was fully bright—
"Hoo—"
"Boom—boom—boom!"
War horns blared through heaven and earth, and the ground quaked as if a dragon turned beneath it.
At the break of dawn, the Western Qi army struck first.
Three hundred fifty thousand soldiers surged forward in tight formation, like a tidal wave flooding the plains.
The Great Sheng army, though outnumbered, met them head-on under fluttering banners and pounding war drums.
Three distinct formations advanced—
The right wing swept forward in a rolling storm of dust and killing intent.
The central army gleamed beneath the rising sun, like divine soldiers descending from the heavens.
The left cavalry charged in thunderous unison, their hooves echoing like distant thunder.
In total, the combined forces on both sides reached over five hundred thousand.
Anyone who entered that sea of soldiers would be like a speck of dust falling into an endless ocean—insignificant, powerless, and swallowed whole in an instant.
High above the battlefield, Han Xiang stood in the air, overlooking the chaos.
At his side was another cultivator at the late stage of Qi Refining, named Si Kongchen.
"Si Kong, my junior," Han Xiang said calmly, eyes fixed on the Great Sheng's central formation. "Qu Yuanxiang is with their right army. I'll deal with Wang Jun myself. You, together with Zhong Wuxin and Gong Yu, take two more mid-stage Qi Refining juniors and lead two hundred thousand soldiers. Strike straight into their central army and locate the man in white. That 'White Robe' is only at the Mortal Shedding Realm. If his formation hasn't triggered the heavenly phenomena, he shouldn't be your match. Kill him on the spot. Once he's dead, we'll have full control over the Mang Mountain ancestral vein—and can return victorious."
"Understood!"
Si Kongchen stepped onto a leaf-shaped flying tool, his figure blurring into a streak of light as he dove straight into the sea of soldiers, heading directly for the Great Sheng central army.
Within the Great Sheng's central formation, the Nine Heavens Heavenly Soldiers Demon-Suppressing Formation looked imposing, yet in truth, it held only about thirty thousand soldiers. The elite from the Hongze Battalion numbered merely five thousand, while the rest were from the Grand Commander's army.
Moreover, there was no infusion of xuan qi this time.
After the battle at Yin Mountain, the white xuan qi within the Mystic Pearl had been recovering faster, but the formations of the Heavenly Scripture Array demanded vast amounts of energy. The amount available still wasn't enough to sustain a formation for thirty thousand troops.
And since this battle's decisive point wasn't centered on the central army, there was no need to waste that power yet.
The trump card must be used at the most critical moment.
"Grand Commander…"
"They're coming!"
"They're heading straight for the command tent!"
Several deputy generals rushed in, panic on their faces.
Through the swirling dust of the battlefield, the Western Qi's central forces could be seen charging in tight formation. It was impossible to count how many, but their direction was clear—they were coming straight for the center.
"There! That's the Great Sheng's central command!"
"There! The man in white!"
"I see him—White Robe!"
At the front of the Western Qi vanguard, Martial Saint Yuan Xicheng pointed with his Azure Dragon Crescent Blade toward one of the command tents. "Kill the White Robe! Earn the title of Marquis and hereditary rank!"
Hereditary rank!
Among all noble titles, those two words carried the greatest weight.
A marquis granted hereditary succession could surpass even a vassal king of another bloodline.
Because hereditary title meant that one's descendants, generation after generation, would retain noble status. With proper management, such a family could endure for a thousand years.
Driven by this irresistible lure, the Western Qi soldiers became like wolves smelling blood—howling, bloodthirsty, and charging forward without hesitation.
Only those within the Grand Commander's army knew how thin their defenses truly were.
They had only thirty thousand men.
The enemy—two hundred thousand.
Thirty thousand against two hundred thousand.
And the enemy had more Immortal Masters as well.
The first defensive line broke within moments. The Western Qi army, unstoppable, poured in and smashed into the second formation. Then, as if long prepared, they split apart, ignoring other troops and focusing entirely on the direction of the central command.
In a battle of hundreds of thousands, the lines stretched for many li.
If one side concentrated their full might on a single point, the other could scarcely hold them back.
"Grand Commander!"
"They—they know where you are!"
"What should we do?!"
"Let's fall back!"
"Yes! Let's escort the Grand Commander to safety!"
"Retreat to the rear! Call the left army for support!"
"Or return to Yunduan Prefecture right away!"
The soldiers of the Grand Commander's army were visibly shaken.
Then, before all eyes—
That figure in white stepped out slowly.
He looked toward the oncoming flood—not a trace of fear in his face. Instead, he advanced to meet it head-on.
A white horse appeared at the perfect moment.
Chen Sanshi vaulted onto its back, riding Qianxun to the front line.
In his hand, the silver gleam of Zhen Yue Spear flashed. He raised it skyward, the blade glinting under the sun. The white horse neighed loud and clear as Chen Sanshi's voice thundered across the battlefield.
"Don't panic!
"I'll lead the charge myself! I'll open the path for my brothers!
"If I fall from my horse, don't mourn—don't stop! Grip your blades tight! Hold your reins steady! Follow the battle flag until no enemies remain before you!
"Nine Heavens Heavenly Soldiers Demon-Suppressing Formation—CHARGE!"
The black tides of both armies collided.
In that endless wave of darkness, a single streak of white darted ahead—swift as lightning, diving straight into the sea of chaos.
From above, that lone rider in white seemed pitifully small, like an insect challenging a storm. Just as Wei Xuan had once said, it was like an ant trying to move the ocean.
But then, a flash of silver tore across the field—the Dragon Gall Silver Spear cut through the air.
And in that moment—
The ant split the sea.
"Boom—!"
True qi erupted.
The Four Divine Beasts roared to life, swirling around him.
Wherever the white horse galloped, the black tide receded. The ground was littered with corpses, blood spilling like rivers.
The commander—was leading the charge himself!
"Kill—!"
The Hongze Battalion roared and followed.
The soldiers of the Grand Commander's army had never witnessed such a sight.
Momentum—true momentum—was infectious.
In that instant, they finally understood.
The legendary man in white and the few soldiers of the Hongze Battalion—how had they managed, time after time, to create miracles on the battlefield? And today, they were about to become part of yet another miracle.
The immense momentum of their charge spread like wildfire.
The blood of the Grand Commander's soldiers began to boil. They raised their blades and spears high, keeping their formations steady as they surged forward to meet the far greater tidal wave of enemies head-on.
On the left flank, the rogue cultivator Ma Zhen watched the battle erupt and secretly prepared to betray them. He began forming seals, intending to disrupt the Great Sheng's formation—but then a chill ran up his spine. He turned around in shock.
Wang Jun was already behind him.
A flash of sword light—and Ma Zhen's head flew into the air.
"Ma Zhen has rebelled and been executed by my hand!"
Wang Jun's voice cut through the din. "All units, continue advancing according to original orders!"
"Don't worry, Immortal Master Wang," Tong Xiaochu pounded his chest confidently. "Leave this flank to me!"
"If anything goes wrong, you'll answer for it," Wang Jun warned coldly before turning to rush back toward the central army.
Suddenly, a blazing bird of fire dove down from the heavens like a flaming arrow.
"Hm?"
Wang Jun reacted instantly, raising his sword. A streak of golden light flashed—the firebird split in two.
When he looked closer, it was only a charred scrap of yellow talisman paper.
"Daoist friend, stay a while."
From several dozen meters away, Han Xiang appeared, one hand behind his back and the other gesturing politely. "Why rush into bloodshed? Why not join me in watching a game of chess?"
"Cut the nonsense!"
Wang Jun shouted, "Die!"
His flying sword darted forward like lightning, every ounce of his cultivation unleashed.
If he could kill Han Xiang here, the Western Qi army would collapse.
Then the Mang Mountain spiritual vein would be theirs—and the Foundation Establishment Pill would naturally follow.
Wang Jun had been at the Perfection Stage of Qi Refining for five full years, yet he'd never received a Foundation Establishment Pill. This was likely his only chance—he couldn't afford to hold back.
But Han Xiang, the so-called War Immortal, didn't fight him head-on. As a master of talismans, he constantly cast enhancement seals on himself, weaving layer after layer of support. Even when he attacked, it was only with light, probing spells—neither side could gain the upper hand.
"Damn it!"
"He's not fighting me seriously—he's stalling me here!"
"He wants to tie me down so the other late-stage cultivators can kill Chen Sanshi!"
Realization hit like ice.
Wang Jun turned to leave—but Han Xiang shadowed him relentlessly, forcing him to stay on guard. He couldn't move an inch without risking his life.
"Won't fight, won't leave! What's the point of this game?" Wang Jun snarled. "Han, do you find this amusing?"
"Daoist friend," Han Xiang said softly, eyes calm, "why must we fight to the death? Look down—see those soldiers below, clashing in endless slaughter? Why not calm your heart, and watch a round of chess with me? When the game ends—win or lose—I'll let you go."
"Chess, huh?"
Wang Jun lowered his gaze to the battlefield, where the Western Qi army was raging forward like mad dogs trying to kill Chen Sanshi. He recalled the White Robe's quiet deployment the night before. His anxiety ebbed slightly.
"Fine," he said coldly. "Let's see which of you wins this round."
A golden dragon descended from the clouds.
The Western Qi vanguard general, Martial Saint Yuan Xicheng, was crushed instantly—man and horse alike reduced to pulp.
"Boom—!"
A beam of golden light fell from above.
Chen Sanshi's true qi surged through his spear. He struck upward, shattering the light to dust, then leapt into the air, closing the distance in a blink.
The cultivator ambushing from above gasped in horror. One moment the White Robe had been a hundred steps away; the next, the Dragon Gall Silver Spear was already before his face. He barely had time to form seals, summoning layers of water screens as a barrier.
Two Hongze soldiers behind him fired their crossbows. The bolts struck the watery shields and snapped instantly. The barriers shimmered like flowing water—but were as solid as steel.
Until—
The silver spear touched it.
Then the water became water again.
"Splash!"
The barrier burst apart.
The spear pierced through the cultivator's skull like a sea dragon breaching the surface. True qi exploded, twisting and shredding everything inside. The man's head burst open, and his blood and brain mixed with the rain pouring down from above.
"Hsss—"
Qianxun neighed, catching the White Robe midair. As they landed, Chen Sanshi's spear transformed into the Black Tortoise, crashing down from the sky and crushing dozens of Western Qi soldiers into pulp. His killing intent surged without end—each strike heavier, each step drenched in blood. Corpses piled high like mountains. None could stand before him.
"Chen Sanshi, die!"
At last, Si Kongchen arrived. He formed seals and waved his hands.
"Boom—boom—boom!"
The ground trembled. A slab of rock tore free, rising into the air and swelling into a towering mountain. It came crashing down with tremendous force toward the man in white.
The spear shattered the mountain. Rocks and sand exploded in all directions.
But the impact finally halted Chen Sanshi's momentum. Qianxun reared back, forced to stop.
"Chen Sanshi," Si Kongchen sneered, "you're only at the Mortal Shedding Realm. You're no match for me—and I have an entire army at my back."
His hands flashed through more seals. "Surrender now, and perhaps I'll leave your corpse intact."
"You're wrong," Chen Sanshi said evenly, steadying his breath as he drew in his qi.
"If you had come alone, maybe you'd have been troublesome."
"But since you brought an army with you…"
"That's exactly why—you're no match for me."