Si Kongchen froze, not understanding what Chen Sanshi meant at all.
What did he mean by saying that having an army to assist him would make him not his match?
Was he saying—the more men there were, the less he could win?
Absurd!
A flash of spiritual light shone.
A long, curved saber appeared in Si Kongchen's hands—a mo dao, but unlike any ordinary weapon, it wasn't forged from metal. It was carved entirely from wood. Intricate runes shimmered across its surface, while its handle was tightly coiled with living vines.
An upper-grade magical weapon!
The saber slashed down from the sky, glowing with both green and violet light. Though it looked weightless, the moment it descended, it carried the might of a mountain.
"Boom—boom—boom!"
The Dragon Gall Silver Spear collided head-on with it.
True qi and spiritual power clashed, the shockwave blasting dust high into the air. Dozens of soldiers were thrown off their feet, their internal organs ruptured before they even hit the ground—dead instantly.
Amid the storm of dust, Chen Sanshi and his white horse reared back sharply. For a heartbeat, it looked like they would topple—but through sheer strength, he steadied his stance, the spear gleaming bright.
The silver spear and wooden saber had struck directly, yet the wooden blade remained unharmed, spinning once before returning smoothly to Si Kongchen's hand.
At the same time, countless Western Qi soldiers and generals swarmed from every direction, all aiming to strike at the man in white astride the white horse.
Marquis! Sealed and inherited for all generations!
To them, the White Robe was no longer just an enemy general—he was a chance to found a thousand-year aristocratic clan.
Once, during the final years of Former Yan, its last sovereign had been cornered and slain on the banks of Luo River. His corpse was torn apart by countless soldiers, and even those who claimed a single limb were granted noble titles.
And today—Chen Sanshi was that treasure before their eyes.
Even cutting off just one of his fingers could ensure a family's prosperity for three generations.
Among them, General Xiahou Shu gripped his Azure Dragon Crescent Blade tightly. His bloodshot eyes locked onto Chen Sanshi's back. His eight extraordinary meridians pulsed wildly as gang qi surged into his weapon until it roared like a feral lion.
Lions roared. Wolves howled. Tigers bellowed. Eagles screamed.
Hundreds of martial generals unleashed their ultimate techniques. Blades, spears, and halberds rained down like a tide of wild beasts—feral, crazed, and bloodthirsty.
A tide of beasts charging toward a feast of flesh and blood.
Bloodlust. Madness. Greed. Savagery.
A flood of beasts thundered forth—until...
The True Dragon descended.
And the beasts scattered.
"Boom—boom—boom!"
None of them saw when the White Robe struck. They only saw that silver spear transform into a flying dragon. It swept through the ranks with an ocean's fury—and then, everything went dark.
Flesh and blood splattered skyward.
From Si Kongchen's first strike to Chen Sanshi's counter, to the ambush by the Western Qi soldiers, and then their complete annihilation—it all happened within the span of a single breath.
"Continue!"
From above, Si Kongchen caught his returning wooden blade and narrowed his eyes. There was a hint of surprise in his gaze, followed by something cold and sinister.
"You've consumed heavenly treasures and opened your Divine Vision, haven't you?"
In the Martial Path, after reaching Perfection of the Mortal Shedding Realm, one could only open the Divine Vision by consuming one of three kinds of heavenly materials. Doing so was the first step toward breaking into the True Force Realm.
Once the True Force Realm was achieved, true qi would transform into true force, marking a qualitative leap in power.
But even before the breakthrough, every opened Divine Vision would greatly enhance one's strength.
Si Kongchen was at the late stage of Qi Refining, eighth layer, and he'd assumed killing a mere Mortal Shedding cultivator—without formation or heavenly aid—would be effortless.
He never imagined Chen Sanshi would withstand his first strike.
That could only mean one thing—he had already eaten the Divine Vision Fruit.
"Junior brothers! What are you waiting for? Help me!"
Not far away, two mid-stage Qi Refining cultivators rushed over.
One held a golden rope glittering with runes, throwing it straight toward Qianxun's neck. The other quickly formed seals—frost condensed into a gleaming sword of ice that shot toward the White Robe's forehead like an arrow.
Si Kongchen himself guided his wooden blade again from afar, hacking down with deadly precision.
A three-way assault—man, beast, and weapon—all under siege.
A glimmer of light flashed.
Qianxun dissolved into a streak of white light and vanished into Chen Sanshi's storage bag. The golden rope missed entirely.
Chen Sanshi's spear erupted in fiery crimson radiance. The Vermilion Bird flared from its form, spreading its wings with a scream. The blazing heat melted the frost sword instantly.
Then Chen Sanshi soared upward like a tiger given wings. The spear thrust forward, aimed straight for the face of one of the mid-stage cultivators.
"What?!"
The cultivator's eyes widened in horror.
In theory, a mid-stage Qi Refining cultivator's combat strength should equal that of a so-called Martial Saint in this world.
But why—why did his spell crumble like paper before this man?
The killing aura rolling off the White Robe was overwhelming. As Chen Sanshi charged closer, the cultivator panicked, flying backward as fast as his spell could carry him.
Martial Saints couldn't fly.
If they just stayed high in the air, keeping distance and bombarding him from above, they could slowly wear him down.
Martial cultivators were strong in the body.
Spell cultivators had to use their advantage—range—to win.
But—
The man in white suddenly leapt, rising over twenty zhang into the air in a single bound. He couldn't truly fly, but as he reached his limit, he began to fall.
Just as the cultivator sighed in relief, a talisman appeared in Chen Sanshi's hand. It shattered into glowing purple light, wrapping around him.
In the next heartbeat, he was flying.
The tiger had grown wings once more.
His speed surged. The spear's reflection filled the cultivator's eyes, growing larger and larger until it filled his entire sight.
"Puchi—!"
There wasn't even time to cast a defense spell.
A blood-red lotus burst open from his chest. His body went limp, falling like a stone into the chaotic battlefield below.
"Brother Zhao!"
The remaining cultivator roared in fury. Seizing the chance, the golden rope shot forward, coiling tightly around the shaft of the long spear, trying to bind it in place.
But before he could even exert his strength, a mountain-crushing force erupted from the other end. The backlash yanked him forward uncontrollably, dragging his whole body toward the man in white.
By the time he realized what was happening, it was already too late.
The Mountain-Suppressing Sword gleamed. A chill swept across his neck.
For a brief moment, the world spun wildly—then his vision dropped downward. He saw his own body still hanging midair, while his head rolled away, bouncing across the battlefield.
"Splat!"
The warhorse trampled over it with a wet crunch—just like smashing a melon.
In an instant, two more cultivators had fallen.
At the same moment, Si Kongchen's wooden blade returned once again, streaking through the air. The green vines coiled along its length flared to life, and under the surge of incantations, it released even greater spiritual power than before, slicing down toward Chen Sanshi's flank.
Chen Sanshi had just slain two foes. He didn't have time to dodge or counterattack. He could only raise his spear horizontally to block.
"Boom—!"
The impact was deafening.
The man in white fell like a meteor, crashing into the chaos below. Dust and sand exploded outward, leaving a pit several zhang deep in the ground.
The wooden blade rebounded back toward Si Kongchen, who caught it with one hand. His face darkened.
'No… something's wrong!'
'He was surrounded by generals, then fought and killed two mid-stage Qi Refining cultivators—he should've burned through most of his true qi by now. But why does it feel like…'
'He's getting stronger?!'
The moment of confusion cost him.
From the ground, Chen Sanshi leapt again—one hand gripping a spear that roared like a dragon, the other holding a sword blazing with the ferocity of a white tiger. Dragon and tiger surged together, their combined killing intent sweeping through the skies.
"Courting death!"
Si Kongchen bellowed, his face twisted in rage. He didn't retreat or attack from afar this time.
Instead, he pulled out a talisman and activated it. A streak of light dove into the center of his forehead, flooding his entire body with explosive power.
Giant Strength Talisman!
Ten thousand jin of power infused his limbs, amplified by his surging spiritual force.
He gripped his wooden saber with both hands and struck downward like a thunderbolt.
"Bang!"
The impact resounded like a thunderclap.
Chen Sanshi was sent flying once more, crashing hard into the ground below—but even then, there was not a trace of injury on him, nor any sign of his qi running out.
Si Kongchen cursed inwardly.
No wonder most cultivators in the Immortal Realm hated martial artists!
They were like rabid dogs—impossible to shake off. Even a small misstep could end with half your flesh torn away.
Up until now, he'd relied solely on his cultivation advantage to suppress Chen Sanshi, maintaining distance at all times. He didn't dare to engage in close combat—he'd barely have time to chant a spell before being shredded to pieces.
These martial brutes… really deserved to die!
"Kill him!"
Si Kongchen's voice thundered across the battlefield. "Whoever kills Chen Sanshi shall be made a Duke of the Nation, with hereditary honors for all generations!"
He was directly invoking the authority of the Western Qi court, raising the reward even higher.
But no matter how many soldiers charged, every wave of attackers turned into corpses within mere breaths. In just a few exchanges, the man in white had already slain hundreds—their bodies piling up like mountains.
Through it all, Si Kongchen didn't stand idly by. Hovering a hundred zhang above the ground, he commanded his flying saber while casting spell after spell, bombarding Chen Sanshi with relentless magical strikes like a torrential storm.
Every time Chen Sanshi tried to soar upward and close the distance, the spells would drive him back, pushing him straight into the waiting blades of the Western Qi army.
This cycle repeated again and again—until Si Kongchen began to notice something off.
His spells… weren't working as well anymore.
At first, he could stop Chen Sanshi with a casual flick of his flying blade. Then he had to focus. Then he had to fight seriously. Now, he was using every ounce of strength he had just to not lose ground.
At this rate…
Could this man actually fight him to a draw—or even surpass him?
Impossible!
Human strength has limits!
Even cultivators have limits!
Take himself for example: facing an army, the best strategy was to hover in the air and cast spells. But once surrounded, he could kill maybe one or two thousand soldiers before his spiritual power was completely drained.
Even flight required constant consumption of energy.
Martial cultivators might have stronger bodies, letting them kill more in melee—but that too had a limit. Sooner or later, their true qi would run dry.
Especially Chen Sanshi, who was fighting not only endless soldiers but also cultivators of equal or higher realms.
Under these conditions, he should have burned out by now!
So how—
A surge of killing intent exploded from below, racing skyward.
Chen Sanshi had slain over a thousand enemies—and now, he was rising once again!
Si Kongchen had anticipated it. Three talismans flared around his body in rapid succession, his wooden blade glowing with blinding runes. Layers of spiritual energy condensed and expanded, forming a blade of light over three zhang long that met the true dragon of qi head-on.
"Boom—boom—boom—!"
The heavens roared like thunder.
Moments later, the man in white fell again—but Si Kongchen himself was sent hurtling backward like a cut kite. He tumbled through the air for over a hundred zhang before managing to stabilize himself with a series of frantic incantations.
This time—
It was a draw.
After more than a dozen rounds of suppression and the slaughter of several thousand foes, Chen Sanshi's Unrivaled Battle Intent had climbed to its peak. His strength had now reached parity with Si Kongchen—and was still rising higher.
Si Kongchen's pupils trembled violently. His mind was in chaos. He couldn't understand it, but he had to accept the truth.
If he didn't finish Chen Sanshi soon—he might die himself.
"Damn it!"
He hadn't left his sect to die here. He'd come to earn military merits, to exchange them for resources to advance his cultivation and prepare for Foundation Establishment.
Now he was on the verge of being buried under this madman's spear.
Seeing Chen Sanshi surge upward toward the skies once more, Si Kongchen swallowed every pill he had that could boost his power. He bit his finger and began forming seals at lightning speed, leaving afterimages in the air.
He poured his own blood essence into his life-bound weapon—the Wood-Element Blade.
"Hummm—"
After absorbing Si Kongchen's blood essence, the Wood-Element Blade came alive like a dead tree reborn. As it slashed toward the ground, its body grew larger and larger, stretching like a colossal tree collapsing from the heavens. Countless vines and branches spread out from it, forming a web that covered the sky. Within moments, a radius of several li fell into total darkness, as though the day itself had been swallowed by night.
The blade was like a gigantic hand made of plants, crashing down toward the man in white—intent on smashing him into paste, then using its roots to absorb his flesh and spirit as nourishment.
Amid the vast shadow, Chen Sanshi swept his long spear in every direction, clearing a path through the dense vines. He stood unflinching beneath the falling tree, blood dripping down his armor. The Fire-Element Breathing Method ignited within him, his surging true qi raging through his meridians before channeling into the Dragon Gall Silver Spear.
Divine Vision, Jue Yuanzi!
Divine Vision, Xuan Fuhua!
Dragon Scripture!
Though he had yet to condense true force, the techniques of the Dragon Scripture were already engraved in his body. The two Divine Visions he'd opened burned vividly within him, their power tangible and real.
Under the talisman's glow, Chen Sanshi soared into the sky—man and spear as one.
"Azure Dragon, Purify the World!"
The true dragon roared and tore open the heavens.
The branches and vines that blotted out the sky split apart under that strike. The towering ancient tree withered in an instant, collapsing inward before shrinking back into a wooden blade and flying into Si Kongchen's hand. Then—crack!—it snapped clean in two.
"Puh!"
The instant his life-bound magical weapon broke, Si Kongchen coughed up a mouthful of blood. His spiritual energy plummeted, and even as he stood upon his leaf-shaped flying artifact trying to escape, his speed slowed to a crawl—like a tortoise dragging itself across the ground.
He didn't make it far.
The azure dragon dove down and swallowed him whole.
Si Kongchen—dead.
"Boom—"
His corpse fell from the height of over a hundred zhang, smashing into the hard yellow earth below and splattering into a pool of flesh and blood.
As the talisman's flight effect faded, Chen Sanshi descended slowly from the sky. The man in white landed atop a mountain of corpses, gripping his silver spear. His voice rolled across the battlefield, loud enough to shake the lungs of every man present.
"Chen Sanshi's head is right here!"
"Whoever wants it—come take it!"
After witnessing that, the chaotic battlefield suddenly fell silent. Every soldier froze where they stood. Fear crept into their faces.
"Immortal Master Si Kong!"
"Immortal Master Si Kong is dead!"
Moments ago, driven mad by the promise of "hereditary nobility," the soldiers of the Western Qi army had charged like beasts. Now, they were drenched in cold sweat, their minds clearing as they stared at the endless piles of corpses.
A single question rose in everyone's hearts—
How many men had Chen Sanshi killed?
No one could count.
They only knew that no matter who attacked him—general or foot soldier, immortal or mortal—everyone who tried to kill the man in white was dead.
Every last one.
And most terrifying of all—
After all this time, after this endless slaughter, Chen Sanshi showed no sign of exhaustion.
But the situation was clear.
He was alone, deep inside enemy lines. The Grand Commander's Army and the Hongze Battalion had long been cut off from him.
Meaning—he was standing alone against two hundred thousand troops.
Once the seed of fear takes root, it spreads fast. Panic festered like a plague, threatening to sweep through the entire army.
But before that could happen—
A proud voice rang out across the sky.
"Chen Sanshi, the opposing commander, is personally leading the charge himself. That only proves he's spent all his strength! What are you afraid of?"
"I, Han Xiang, will personally take his life shortly. All soldiers of Western Qi—focus only on slaying the rest of the Great Sheng troops! You don't need to earn merit. Just don't retreat, and when the war ends, you will all be promoted three ranks!"
Han Xiang's calm, commanding tone crushed the fear spreading through the ranks.
The War Immortal still lived!
Their War Immortal, the man who had shattered the Great Sheng armies, had yet to strike!
He was waiting—for the perfect moment.
And now, they didn't even need to kill Chen Sanshi. They only had to keep fighting without retreat, and they would all rise three ranks.
"Hsss—!"
Qianxun appeared again, galloping out from the smoke. Chen Sanshi mounted and plunged into the fray once more. Wherever he passed, enemies scattered and died, creating pockets of collapse within the vast army. But the Western Qi soldiers, bolstered by the words War Immortal, held firm. Their morale wavered, but did not shatter.
None dared face him directly. Instead, they scattered, circling around to slaughter the remaining men of the Grand Commander's Army and the Hongze Battalion.
That—was fatal.
Because the Great Sheng central army had only thirty thousand men.
It didn't take long for Zhong Wuxin and a mid-stage Qi Refining cultivator to notice this.
"The central line is exposed!"
"They have at most forty thousand left!"
"Kill every last one—leave no survivors!"
"Chen Sanshi will be handled by the Immortal Master himself!"
The battlefield plunged into chaos once again.
Moments like these were when a general's true ability shone brightest.
The Western Qi army's cohesion held firm—that alone proved Han Xiang's command.
But one thing could not be forgotten.
Chen Sanshi's plan from the beginning was to use himself as bait—to hold back the enemy's center, buying time for his right wing to crush their left. That was the real strategy.
Now, it was time to see how Han Xiang would respond.
Yet as things stood, Chen Sanshi's hopes were fading.
Because Han Xiang had yet to appear.
The plan relied on Han Xiang personally leading men to kill him. Chen Sanshi would then join with Wang Jun to block him.
But Han Xiang... never came.
He was still watching—still cautious, wary of hidden traps.
Though he'd told his men that Chen Sanshi was spent, in truth, Han Xiang was the most cautious man on the field. He would not strike until the final, certain moment.
At this rate, unless Wang Jun could defeat Han Xiang one-on-one, the plan would almost certainly fail.
Far away, in the sky, Han Xiang and Wang Jun faced each other—between them, a chessboard floated silently in midair.
Han Xiang's gaze drifted from the battlefield back to the hovering chessboard before him. His pupils deepened, reflecting the chaos below. "What a fine commander—Chen Sanshi, still in the Mortal Shedding Realm, yet he's slaughtered over ten thousand without exhaustion. He's even slain several of my generals, including Si Kongchen, who was a whole realm above him. Such ferocity… even I, Han Xiang, have never seen the like."
Wang Jun's thoughts were nearly identical.
He simply couldn't believe it.
Whether a martial cultivator or a spell cultivator—how could anyone possess power that never runs out?
And not only did it not run out—he was growing stronger with every battle!
Wang Jun silently compared himself. If it were him, even if his enemies just stood still and let him cast spells one by one, at most he could kill around two thousand before his spiritual power ran dry.
But that Chen fellow? What was he—a natural-born god of war?
Still, since they were temporary allies, that was to his advantage.
If this grand strategy succeeded, they could seize both the ancestral spiritual vein and the Foundation Establishment Pill.
Thinking of this, Wang Jun sneered. "Han Xiang, you've lost one general after another. Are you still just going to sit there and watch? Come on, let's finish this—you and I!"
"No."
Han Xiang rolled a white stone between his fingers, his eyes narrowing. "Tell me, Daoist Wang—when the war began, I sent my hidden agent Ma Zhen to disrupt the enemy formation. But before he could act, you appeared and executed him. Tell me, were you assigned to the left army by chance—or did you know beforehand?"
A faint twitch ran across Wang Jun's face. "Heh… I was stationed there from the start."
"You're lying."
Han Xiang's eyes locked onto him, sharp as an eagle's. "I told Ma Zhen that if there was a late-stage Qi Refining cultivator near him, he was to stay put."
"Enough nonsense!"
Wang Jun had no answer. He quickly formed seals, readying a spell. "Han Xiang! Today, either you die—or I do!"
"Immortal Master!"
At that exact moment, a voice called out.
The Western Qi deputy general, Gong Yu, galloped up beneath them, excitement gleaming in his eyes. "Immortal Master! Good news! The Great Sheng central army is completely exposed! Our forces have encircled them—within two hours, they'll be annihilated!"
"Senior Brother Han!"
Two more cultivators flew in on their swords, landing beside him. Pointing at Wang Jun, they called out, "The situation is clear! Let us help you slay this man first. Once he's dead, we'll head straight for the central army and kill Chen Sanshi! Victory will be ours!"
"Wait."
Han Xiang looked down at Gong Yu and asked, "You're certain the enemy's central army only numbers thirty thousand?"
"At most forty thousand, no more!"
Gong Yu said confidently, pounding his chest. "If my report's wrong, Immortal Master, you can take my head!"
Han Xiang's gaze dropped back to the chessboard. The pieces reflected mountains, rivers, and formations in his eyes. A cold gleam flashed across them. He picked up a black stone and placed it in Chen Sanshi's stead, smiling faintly.
"Good move. A fine move indeed.
"The strategist throws himself into the board, using his own life as bait to lure me into concentrating all forces on an empty center.
"Chen Sanshi…"—he paused—"you're not afraid to die?"
This move—was a fatal one.
He'd used himself to buy time for his soldiers, his "chess pieces."
But a chess player… should never die for his pieces.
Absurd.
Realization dawned sharp and clear. Han Xiang flicked his sleeve, storing away the chessboard. Then his voice turned cold. "Order the left army to retreat immediately! Central forces are to halt their advance and move to reinforce the left flank!"
"What?!"
Gong Yu froze. "Immortal Master, the enemy's central army is wide open! We're about to destroy them and kill Chen Sanshi!"
"Yes, you're right."
Han Xiang gave a thin smile and tossed him a map. "But haven't you noticed? None of the Great Sheng's main forces—Qu Yuanxiang, nor any of their major cultivators—have appeared. By the time you wipe out those thirty thousand, they'll have already smashed our left wing and circled behind us at Shuishi River."
Gong Yu stared at the map, eyes widening as realization struck. His whole body broke out in cold sweat. "If they reach Shuishi River, they can seize the strongest fortresses of Pingzhou—cutting off our retreat and supply lines completely. We'll be trapped on the plains! That White Robe… he's vicious!"
"Then what are you waiting for? Send the order to the central army!"
Han Xiang snapped. Without another word, he rose on his sword, flying toward the left flank to command personally.
"Stop right there!"
Wang Jun realized their plan had been exposed. He threw a blazing fireball forward and charged with his flying sword.
But as before, Han Xiang didn't fight him directly. He weaved through the air, dodging with talismans and defensive spells, avoiding any head-on clash. Wang Jun could do nothing but watch as Han Xiang reorganized his forces.
Across the battlefield, the two great armies once again faced off.
The Great Sheng's left army met the Western Qi right army head-on.
When the battle resumed, Western Qi's central army launched the main assault, while the right army advanced cautiously, avoiding deep engagement.
Commanding those seventy thousand on the Western Qi right flank was General Zhang Chong'an, a Martial Saint himself.
In this campaign, the Western Qi kingdom had mobilized over three hundred thousand troops—nearly its entire army, aside from the capital garrison and essential posts. Naturally, Zhong Wuxin wasn't the only Martial Saint.
Aside from him, there were two mid-stage Qi Refining cultivators and one True Force Realm martial expert—new arrivals from the Eastern Victory Continent, sent to reinforce their front.
Zhang Chong'an ordered the vanguard to form a defensive array to delay the enemy while he stayed within the command tent, biding his time.
That was Han Xiang's directive.
But not long after the battle began—
Urgent shouts came from the front lines.
"General!"
"Bad news!"
"The forward formation has collapsed!"
"Bullshit!"
Zhang Chong'an slammed his fist down. "My deployment was flawless! There's an Immortal Master guarding the front! How could it break so soon?!"
In battles of this scale, the commanding generals—the "brains" of the two armies—never rushed to the front. Usually, the vanguard fought first. Only after the situation became clear would the generals step in personally.
After all, if the commander died, chaos would follow.
"General, it's true!"
The messenger stumbled in, breathless and pale. "The Great Sheng's left army is terrifying! Their generals are too strong—we can't stop them! Even Immortal Master Zhuang has… already been killed!"
"What?!"
Zhang Chong'an's face shifted between disbelief and rage. "How many men do they have?!"
"I—I don't know!"
The soldier pointed forward with a trembling hand, his voice shaking as he stammered, "A-at least six Martial Saints or more!"
"Six? Could that be their main force?"
Zhang Chong'an paced back and forth, trying to mask his rising anxiety. "No, that's not right. The central command just confirmed that Chen Sanshi is still at the central army. If he moved his elites to the right flank, does that mean he's throwing his life away?"
"Quick! Bring me my horse!"
He swung into the saddle and, weapons in hand, rallied his officers and cultivators, charging toward the front.
The battlefield stretched for dozens of li. Even if something went wrong, it would normally take time to reach the front lines.
Yet the collapse ahead was faster than Zhang Chong'an could have imagined. Before he even arrived, he saw his forward troops already in full retreat, dust clouds rising into the air, and the deafening roar of the Great Sheng soldiers surging toward them.
"Brothers!"
Wei Xuan rode at the head, his massive blade cutting through men like splashes of ink on canvas.
Beside him, Song Guizhi wielded a jade-colored staff, sweeping it wide and smashing through ranks of enemies.
Wang Zhi, Chu Shixiong, and the Great Sheng cultivators followed close behind. No formation could withstand them—they shattered line after line with unstoppable momentum.
Qu Yuanxiang's flying sword reaped lives in arcs of silver light until a True Force Realm martial cultivator appeared before him.
The man looked ordinary—around forty years old—but when he charged forward, he moved like a mountain tiger descending from its peak. With a leap, he rose into the air, his fists wreathed in spiraling true force that warped the air before him as he struck with a mountain-crushing punch.
Qu Yuanxiang sensed the motion on his flank and crushed a talisman between his fingers. A golden barrier flared to life before him.
"Crack—!"
The golden light shattered under the impact of the blow, but it held long enough to block the strike.
"Die, brute!"
Qu Yuanxiang winced—those high-grade talismans weren't easy to replace. As the barrier splintered, he seized the brief opening and swung his flying sword at the man's arm.
"Clang—!"
But instead of slicing flesh or colliding with protective qi, the blade struck metal. The sharp ring of iron echoed out.
As their powers clashed, the martial cultivator's sleeves tore open, revealing his wrists encircled by several thick golden rings—each gleaming like solid gold. When true force surged through them, glowing violet runes lit up one after another, gold and purple intertwining in radiant brilliance.
True Force Weapons!
"Rumble—!"
One after another, the golden rings blasted outward under the man's control. Each one struck like a siege hammer, carrying devastating, unstoppable power.
Qu Yuanxiang was caught off guard, barely raising his sword in time to block.
"Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!"
The repeated blows rang out like metal on anvil, forcing him back several dozen zhang.
The martial cultivator pressed his advantage, recalling the rings to his forearms. His fists glowed like twin suns, radiant and furious.
"You bastard, let's see who dies first!"
Qu Yuanxiang didn't back down.
Both were of equal realm, each fighting with everything they had, locked in a fierce stalemate.
While the strongest on both sides clashed, the Great Sheng forces still had the advantage. With more Martial Saints and mid-stage Qi Refining cultivators, they carved through the Western Qi lines like an unstoppable tide.
The two cultivators who followed Zhang Chong'an took to the air on their flying swords but were soon surrounded—one was killed outright, the other wounded.
Zhang Chong'an himself fared no better. He couldn't withstand even a single set of Wei Xuan's Eighteen Splashes of Ink Blades before his defense fell apart.
Chu Shixiong roared, "Break through to Shuishi River! Once we reach it, Western Qi's three hundred thousand troops will collapse completely!"
But just then, reinforcements from Western Qi arrived.
Two cultivators descended, seizing Zhang Chong'an and pulling him out of the chaos before retreating decisively.
"Immortal Masters?!"
Zhang Chong'an looked confused and desperate. "The Great Sheng's main force is all here! If we don't counter them soon, our left flank will fall apart! Once they break through, they'll swarm the rear and—our whole army will be lost!"
"No need to panic!"
One of the cultivators spoke calmly. "Senior Brother Han has already seen through Chen Sanshi's ploy. Our central army is marching this way. You are to abandon the forward twenty thousand troops and fall back ten li to form a new defensive line. Stall for time."
"The Immortal Master already planned it out?"
Zhang Chong'an exhaled in relief.
Meanwhile, at the Great Sheng central line, their thin ranks were suffering terrible losses.
Sun Buqi fought like a demon, his armor drenched in blood. He had already slain two sub-commanders of the same realm and one from a higher one. His spear shattered halfway through the battle, so he grabbed a fallen short blade and kept fighting with all he had left.
Nearby, Zhao Kang snapped the shaft of an arrow embedded in his chest. His back was soaked in blood, and when he coughed, thick, dark blood spilled from his mouth. He dropped to one knee, using his rice-blade saber for support, too exhausted to lift it again.
Around him, enemy soldiers closed in from every direction.
Just as the blades were about to fall—
A roar of qi erupted behind them. Waves of force tore through the air, sending countless Western Qi soldiers flying skyward like beans scattered from a sack—except every "bean" was a mangled corpse.
From the direction of the chaos, Chen Sanshi appeared once more, charging through the dust atop his white horse. Wherever he rode, the path cleared before him.
He raised his spear high and shouted, "The Hongze Battalion will cover the retreat! The Grand Commander's Army—fall back! All forces retreat to Yunduan Prefecture!"
The time had come.
According to Chen Sanshi's arrangement, by this point, the Great Sheng right army should have already charged deep into enemy territory. Whether the plan succeeded or failed didn't matter now—they were never meant to stay and die.
They had been bait, yes—but not sacrificial bait.
The moment the task was complete, they were to retreat.
And at the same time that Chen Sanshi gave the order to withdraw, the Western Qi central army also ceased pursuit and turned to pull back.
Seeing this, Chen Sanshi immediately understood.
Han Xiang must have realized his plan and was already working to mend the Western Qi army's weaknesses—and he wasn't too late.
Not long after, Wang Jun came flying back on his sword, his expression urgent.
"Chen Sanshi!" he called, landing hard on the ground. "It's bad! Han Xiang figured out what we were doing—he's already ordered his central army to support the left flank. Your plan to circle around Shuishi River is ruined."
As expected.
Chen Sanshi wasn't angry, only a little regretful. The chance to win with minimal casualties was gone.
That Han Xiang truly lived up to his reputation as the man who unified the Seven Kingdoms.
Without question, he was the strongest military strategist Chen Sanshi had ever met.
"What now?" Wang Jun's brows furrowed tightly. "Are we about to lose everything?"
"No."
Chen Sanshi's tone remained calm. "Go to the right flank. Tell Qu Yuanxiang and the others to pull back.
"Also—"
"Have the left army advance to cover our retreat.
"We only need to fall back to Yunduan Prefecture."
This battle was inevitable.
He hadn't entered it thinking he would definitely win—but he'd known from the start he wouldn't lose.
After today, the great war between the two nations would shift from lightning-fast offensives to a drawn-out struggle, one that would likely favor Western Qi.
But that would be a matter for later.
"What about Fengzhou?" Wang Jun asked, worry flashing in his eyes. "Didn't we fight this battle so they wouldn't march on Fengzhou?"
"Battlefields change with every breath," Chen Sanshi said quietly. "A tactic that worked an hour ago might already be useless now. The court has already sent reinforcements to Fengzhou. If they move there again now—it'll be too late.
"Pass my orders. The losses between both sides won't differ much by the end of this battle."
"Understood."
Wang Jun hesitated a moment before leaving. "It's not that I didn't want to kill Han Xiang," he explained quickly, "but he simply refused to fight me. And his cultivation is no lower than mine. There was nothing I could do."
"You two didn't fight at all?"
That did catch Chen Sanshi off guard. "You just… stared at each other this whole time?"
He sighed. "Forget it. Go withdraw the troops first. Once you're back, tell me everything in detail."
Sometimes, through conversation alone, one could glimpse a person's weaknesses.
"Got it."
Wang Jun nodded and flew off without further delay.
The Great Sheng right army was still locked in fierce battle when suddenly, the signal horns sounded.
"Retreat?!"
Qu Yuanxiang, his eyes bloodshot from hours of fighting and his talismans and pills nearly exhausted, had just forced back his opponent when he snarled, "We're winning! Why retreat now?!"
"Stop talking and follow orders!" Wang Jun barked. "Our plan's been exposed. Han Xiang is on his way here. If we don't pull back now, we'll be wiped out!"
"Wiped out?!" Qu Yuanxiang scoffed. "I thought Chen Sanshi was supposed to be brilliant! Looks like he's not so great after all!"
"Retreat!"
"Retreat—!"
The right army left a rearguard to cover them while the rest withdrew in formation. After retreating several dozen li, they linked up with the left army and fell back safely to Yunduan Prefecture.
There was nothing the Western Qi army could do about it—they too had no choice but to sound the withdrawal horns.
The massive battle came to a temporary halt.
The results were grim.
Great Sheng had lost twenty thousand troops.
Western Qi's losses reached thirty-five thousand.
Both sides had lost several major generals.
The war had entered a stalemate once more.
Inside Yunduan Prefecture, Chen Sanshi listened patiently as Wang Jun described every detail of Han Xiang's actions during the battle.
"Observing the board," Chen Sanshi murmured.
"A fine phrase indeed—'observing the board.'"
"A fine chess player."
He closed his eyes, his mind retracing every step, every deployment, every confrontation he'd had with the "War Immortal" Han Xiang since arriving in Jiazhou.
Moments passed.
Then, suddenly, Chen Sanshi's eyes snapped open.
At last—he had found it.
The flaw in Han Xiang's perfect "game."