"Fifty riders?"
Chu Shixiong couldn't help but ask, "Where are we striking?"
"Wherever there are people, that's where we strike," Chen Sanshi ordered.
"I understand."
Chu Shixiong nodded firmly. For the Hongze Battalion, this was nothing new—back at Tiger Hill Mountain, eight hundred scouts had charged straight into an enemy camp. Nothing was impossible.
That night, Chen Sanshi continued his cultivation in silence.
Only when dawn broke did he finally lead more than fifty riders out of the city, moving swiftly toward the nearest Western Qi forward encampment.
The Guandu plains stretched flat and open for hundreds of li, serving as the boundary between the two forces. Both sides were stationed in the cities behind the line, but small vanguard units guarded the flatlands ahead.
Out of caution, Western Qi had even stationed one Martial Saint and one late-stage Qi Refining cultivator within their vanguard troops.
The old cultivator, Jinyun, who had taken part in the Fallen Leaf Valley operation decades ago, sat in meditation near the campfire. Beside him stood a young disciple.
"Master, your tea."
The boy handed him a cup. The tea leaves swirled like tiny green dragons, shimmering with faint spiritual light. The youth grinned. "Got it off Daoist Li in a bet. Don't worry, it's clean."
His master was a tea fanatic. Unfortunately, they had departed in haste, leaving his tea supplies behind, and mortal tea was far too crude for his taste.
"You little rascal," Jinyun scolded, though his tone was full of fondness. "Always scheming. One day you'll get yourself in trouble."
Though his clan had fallen and he'd long been a wandering cultivator, being able to take on a disciple before his death was, to him, a great blessing.
"Listen well."
Jinyun sipped the tea, then set the cup down solemnly. "After this battle, the Foundation Establishment Pill will be in our hands. When that happens, I'll pretend to fail at breaking through and die. You'll take the pill and flee far away—ten thousand li if you must. Never show your face again. Otherwise, that pill will bring your death instead of your fortune."
"Master…"
The boy's eyes filled with distress. "Please, take the pill yourself. You're the one who deserves it. I'm still young—I can find another way to get one."
"I'm already ninety-eight." Jinyun shook his head with a faint smile. "A Qi Refining cultivator may live up to a hundred and twenty years in theory, but if one fails to form a foundation before sixty, the meridians begin to decay, and the chance grows smaller with each passing year. Even if I took the pill, I'd have less than a one percent chance of success. Better not to waste it."
He sighed softly, his gaze full of weariness and hope. "You don't understand. If not for the ancestral veins reappearing in the Eastern Divine Continent, people like us—wandering cultivators—could never even dream of acquiring a Foundation Establishment Pill. You must seize this opportunity. Don't speak foolishly again."
"Yes, Master…"
The boy's eyes reddened further.
He had been a commoner before meeting his teacher by chance—a stroke of fate that brought him onto the Immortal Path.
While others at his level fought to the death over a single low-grade pill, his master had already planned his future and secured him a path to Foundation Establishment.
Just then, a commotion erupted outside.
"Immortal Master Jinyun!"
"Bad news!"
"Enemy attack!"
Outside the vanguard camp, Western Qi's Martial Saint Chai Zuoyuan mounted his horse and rushed to the gates. "What's happening?!"
"General Chai! Enemy attack!"
"How many?"
"F-Fifty!"
"Fifty? Are you sure they're not just scouts?"
"General, they're charging directly at the camp!"
"What?!"
Before Chai Zuoyuan could issue an order, a massive cloud of dust rose in the distance, kicked up by galloping hooves. At the front of the charge—one man in white robes, his garment snapping violently in the wind, a massive black bow in his hand.
Chen Sanshi!
"Buzz—"
Though they were still over six to seven hundred paces away, an arrow had already been loosed, flying far beyond the normal range of any mortal bow.
Chai Zuoyuan had long heard the tales of this man's archery. He dared not try to block it. Using every ounce of his Martial Saint strength, he leaped from his horse and sprinted over a hundred steps to the left, moving faster than most could blink.
He exhaled, relieved—
But the killing intent behind him hadn't vanished.
When he turned, the arrow was still there, only twenty paces away, trailing black miasma and coiling qi that fanned out like wings—a black phoenix shrieking through the air straight toward him.
He couldn't dodge?!
Chai Zuoyuan's pupils shrank. He drew his sword and braced himself for impact.
"Boom!"
A thunderous explosion followed.
The nearby soldiers saw their general hurled to the ground, blood flowing from all seven orifices. His skin blackened rapidly as venom and foul qi spread through his body. Within moments, he was dead.
"Kill!"
At that command, Chen Sanshi led his fifty riders straight into the enemy camp, cutting through everything in their path.
The vanguard base fell into chaos.
It was a slaughter.
Chen Sanshi's arrows tore through the air, felling more than a hundred men before he switched from the Black Serpent Bow to the Dragon Gall Silver Spear, his killing intent swelling with every strike.
The vanguard camp held around ten thousand troops.
After cutting down seven to eight hundred, Chu Shixiong and the others began setting fires across the tents. Flames roared high into the sky, engulfing the forward half of the camp.
Then—
A late-stage Qi Refining cultivator descended from above, standing atop a white crane. He held a whisk in one hand, his robes fluttering, looking every bit like an immortal come down to earth.
"Chen Sanshi?!"
Jinyun's eyes narrowed. Of course he recognized the man in white. Stroking his beard, he said coldly, "So you came without a cultivator to back you. Very well. Once I kill you, this war will be over."
Before his words had even faded, his hands formed seals. The white crane beneath him let out a piercing cry. Its beak opened wide, drawing in spiritual power, then exhaled bursts of golden sword qi.
Chen Sanshi didn't dodge. A silver dragon coiled around him, devouring every streak of sword qi in a flash before shooting upward, its gleaming form striking straight for the cultivator's face.
Jinyun snorted coldly and swung his whisk. It expanded into a colossal pillar, crashing down from the sky like a collapsing mountain. It collided with the silver dragon midair—the shockwave twisted the very air around them.
Mana and true qi clashed violently, the world seeming to warp and tremble.
Jinyun's wrinkled hands pressed together as he poured all his power into his weapon. But gradually, disbelief spread across his aged features. "A Mortal-Shedding warrior can match me?!"
Chen Sanshi's voice roared like thunder. "Mortal-Shedding? Look again—see what realm I've reached!"
"Boom—"
A brilliant light erupted between heaven and earth.
Under the surge of power from the man in white, flames roared to life along his spear. In an instant, a streak of crimson fire ignited upon it—burning brighter and hotter than any mortal flame.
The moment Jinyun's whisk made contact, it began to burn uncontrollably. The weapon was made of wood, inherently weak against fire, and this flame restrained it completely. Within just two breaths, the whisk turned to ash. Seeing the blaze crawl up toward his arm, Jinyun had no choice but to throw it away.
When he looked again at the white-robed figure shrouded in fire, his pupils trembled. "You… you've reached the True Force Realm?!"
As a spell cultivator, Jinyun knew little about martial paths. He only knew that once a martial artist reached the True Force Realm, they could channel the Five Elemental Forces through breathing techniques. The sight before him was unmistakable—this man was a True Force martial cultivator.
But there was also a chance that it was some kind of powerful fire-element spell. Yet before now, he had never heard that the White Robe practiced the arcane arts.
In the chaos of battle, there was no time to use a detection spell. With his life-bound magic tool destroyed, Jinyun spat out blood on the spot, and, without hesitation, leapt onto his white crane to flee.
The enemy's army would soon run out of provisions. Their collapse was inevitable. Once that happened, he could seize Mount Mang's ancestral vein and complete his mission to earn a Foundation Establishment Pill. He couldn't die here.
Just moments ago, after that single exchange, his life-bound artifact was ruined. But Chen Sanshi too had fallen back to the ground—after all, martial warriors couldn't fly. That had always been their greatest disadvantage.
The crane screeched and flapped its wings furiously, soaring westward at incredible speed. If he could just hold out for a little longer, he would meet the approaching reinforcements.
On the ground below, the white-robed commander chased relentlessly on his white horse. But no matter how fast he rode, there was still a gulf between heaven and earth.
Then, all of a sudden, light surged.
The White Swan horse let out a long, thunderous cry that sounded like a dragon's roar. In that instant, it shot upward like a streak of white lightning, rising a hundred zhang into the sky. Chen Sanshi used the horse as leverage, springing off its back and vaulting even higher—another hundred zhang into the air.
With true qi swirling around him, his spear became a dragon soaring through the heavens. The Four Symbols true qi flashed in sequence—Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, and Black Tortoise—before merging into one, transforming into the divine might of a Heavenly Dragon.
"Rumble—!"
The old cultivator's hastily cast defensive spell shattered like glass. A gaping hole burst open in his chest. The white crane beneath him twisted midair, its life snuffed out under the pressure of Chen Sanshi's qi. Its wings stiffened like wood as it plummeted to the ground, its master falling beside it. Only a few white feathers drifted lazily down through the smoky air.
Chen Sanshi began to fall as well. Mid-descent, he landed back onto his horse's saddle and hit the ground in perfect balance, dust exploding beneath the hooves.
Seven of the Eight Divine Apertures of the Upper Body had already opened within him, his power nearing the threshold of the True Force Realm. With the aid of the strange flame and his unmatched martial might, killing a late-stage Qi Refining cultivator was no longer a challenge.
"Master!"
The young disciple stared at his teacher's lifeless body, his eyes flooding red. But before he could even move, an arrow pierced straight through him, nailing him to the ground.
Chen Sanshi stepped forward and searched Jinyun's corpse, taking a storage bag from his robes.
"Kill!"
In the midst of the chaos, Chu Shixiong and the others roared with wild excitement, their momentum unstoppable.
"Retreat!"
Chen Sanshi looked toward the western sky, where faint figures were speeding in their direction. His voice was calm but decisive.
"Retreat? Understood!"
After only a heartbeat of hesitation, Chu Shixiong obeyed at once.
Out of the fifty riders, only four had fallen. The rest withdrew successfully, disappearing into the distance before the enemy reinforcements arrived.
Meanwhile, in the Western Qi Central Command Tent—
"Immortal Master!"
"Bad news!"
Zhong Wuxin burst into the tent. "Two hours ago, Chen Sanshi led a group to raid our vanguard camp. The vanguard general and the elder immortal both died in battle!"
"Wandering cultivator Jinyun," Han Xiang murmured, raising his gaze. "He was at late-stage Qi Refining. How could he die so quickly?"
Back on the wasteland battlefield, Chen Sanshi had already proven himself monstrous—slaughtering ten thousand while still at the Mortal Shedding Realm, and even killing a late-stage Qi Refining cultivator, Sikong Chen, in the end.
But that had taken time.
Sikong Chen had suppressed him for a long while during that fight.
That was precisely why Han Xiang had stationed Jinyun with the vanguard. If Chen Sanshi truly dared to come, the elder would hold him off until reinforcements arrived to encircle and kill him.
Yet this time, Jinyun had been slain almost instantly.
Could it be…
"I don't know for certain," Zhong Wuxin said. "But reports say that during the battle, Immortal Master Jinyun shouted something about the True Force Realm. They also said that Chen Sanshi was surrounded by flames when he attacked. Perhaps… he's broken through to the realm above Martial Saint?"
Above Martial Saint—True Force Realm!
"So fast…"
For the first time, Han Xiang's calm expression darkened with concern.
When Chen Sanshi had slain Sikong Chen, Han Xiang had already guessed that he was close to awakening the Divine Apertures. But he hadn't expected him to advance this quickly—it defied all logic.
Then again, nothing about this man had ever been logical.
"This man… has really reached True Force?"
The late-stage Qi Refining cultivator Zhu Gui spoke up. "If he could kill a late-stage cultivator while still at Mortal Shedding, now that he's at True Force, he'll be even harder to deal with."
"It's fine."
Han Xiang's eyes gradually lost their tension as he studied the war map before him. "War isn't decided by one man. When the enemy army collapses, even if he lives, he can't turn the tide alone. We'll deal with him afterward."
"It's only a few more days anyway," Zhong Wuxin added. "And from what I heard, two days ago he publicly burned the secret letters that exposed his officers' contact with us—didn't punish anyone—and then opened the granaries to feed his troops. He's forcing morale with desperation. The harder he tries to stabilize them, the closer they are to breaking. Today's attack on the vanguard camp was probably just a panicked attempt to probe our weaknesses."
"Even so," Han Xiang's tone hardened, "we can't underestimate him."
Han Xiang held a chess piece between his fingers, his tone quiet and cold. "Secretly transfer troops toward Wucheng. Also, send that martial cultivator who's reached the True Force Realm there as well—just in case."
A few days later.
After training day and night without rest, Chen Sanshi finally set aside his spear.
On average, it took him one to two months to open one of the Divine Apertures, and this final one was no exception. Even by the standards of the cultivation world, his speed was that of a top-tier prodigy.
But it still wasn't enough.
Time was no longer on their side.
When he returned to camp, Tong Xiaochu came rushing over to report. "My lord, at most, we have two more days of food left. The good news is, that man Liao Fang is almost here. Immortal Wang Jun said before he left that, at the latest, he'd arrive by tonight."
"That bastard," Teng Le cursed from the side. "Dragging it day after day—acting all high and mighty!"
The last two days. That was all they had left.
——
Capital City.
Wanshou Palace.
Behind the layered curtains, Emperor Longqing's deep, weary voice sounded. "Guandu has not yet been won?"
"Your Majesty," said Yan Liang with a sigh, "we've done everything possible to supply the army, but still no results. The grain will be gone within two days."
"Alas…"
The emperor's tone carried a heavy sorrow. "One hundred fifty thousand loyal souls of our Great Sheng Dynasty—pitiful indeed. Once this war ends, confer upon Chen Sanshi the title of Duke of Zhao, his line hereditary forever. If his body can be recovered, bury him with honors befitting a prince."
"Your Majesty," Yan Liang said respectfully, bowing deeply, "I'll have the Ministry of Rites make preparations at once. You mustn't grieve too much. All of this is only temporary humiliation. Once Your Majesty takes another step forward on the immortal path, the likes of the Li clan, or Shengyun Sect's Fallen Leaf Valley, will no longer dare look down upon the Great Sheng."
——
Zhongjue Hall.
Within, Prince Jin—Cao Huan, and many officials sat in silence. The air was heavy with despair.
"The forces of the Prince of Zhen'nan still haven't retaken the three prefectures," said Minister of Revenue Tian Guang, his tone defeated. "By my calculations, the front's grain will run out in two days. Two days later, one hundred and fifty thousand soldiers will be lost! Do you realize how much silver that means?"
"Indeed," sighed Minister of Personnel Yin Mingchun, "and after this war, the Great Sheng will lose one-fifth of its territory. The western front won't recover for at least twenty years."
"Han Xiang the War Immortal!" someone spat through gritted teeth. "Han Xiang! All this, because of him!"
Who could have imagined—even the famed White Robe Commander would fall in defeat this time.
"Lord Yan!"
Minister of War Ming Qingfeng suddenly turned toward Yan Maoxing. "Did you correspond with the generals of the three prefectures? Many of them are your protégés, are they not?"
Yan Maoxing froze, then straightened and said righteously, "Of course I did! But what good would that do? This isn't a simple war between two armies—immortals are involved! They have pills and divine aid on their side. What could my letters possibly change? Ming Qingfeng, don't you dare throw the word 'protégés' at me now!"
"Enough!"
Prince Jin slammed the table, his fury echoing through the hall. "The dynasty is in peril, and you waste time bickering?! If you've got that much energy, use it to figure out how to minimize the losses once the main army collapses!"
"Your Highness, rest assured," said Ming Qingfeng quickly. "With the Central Plains forces and the Prince of Zhen'nan's armies in place, the enemy will never breach Jiazhou. They'll be stopped at the Tianzong Mountains. Once the court regains strength, we'll strike back."
He turned to the officers of the Ministry of War, beginning to outline defensive plans.
Then a voice came quietly: "Sixth Brother, may I have a word?"
It was Cao Zhi, the Twelfth Prince.
Prince Jin frowned. "Can't it wait until after this meeting?"
Cao Zhi didn't back down. "It's important."
Reluctantly, Cao Huan followed him to the back of the hall. "Well? What is it, Twelfth Brother?"
"Sixth Brother," Cao Zhi said gravely, "don't you think this whole situation feels… strange?"
"Strange?"
Cao Huan paused, glancing toward the hall, where the ministers' voices still rose and fell in argument. "You can't mean… you suspect Grand Secretary Yan? That's impossible."
"Impossible?" Cao Zhi's gaze sharpened. He pulled out a sealed letter. "My Embroidered Uniform Guards discovered this. Before the rebellion of the three prefectures, the children of Duke Du Xiaocheng of Wu Commandery vanished. They weren't sent to Western Qi—they were secretly smuggled into the capital. They're being held in a small, secluded estate outside the city."
"What?!"
Cao Huan's eyes widened as he scanned the letter, rage flaring in his chest. "If this is true, the Yan father and son deserve execution by a thousand cuts—their nine clans eradicated! But why? They already stand at the pinnacle of power. Even I, as Prince Regent, must seek their approval before executing any policy. What could they possibly want? Why betray the throne?"
"Sixth Brother, are you truly this blind, or merely pretending?"
Cao Zhi's voice dropped low, cold and sharp. "Do you honestly think the Yan family would dare act on their own?"
"You…"
Cao Huan met his brother's gaze—and what he saw there made his knees nearly buckle. "Twelfth Brother, you must be careful what you imply! Even between us, there are things you cannot say!"
"You still don't see it?"
Cao Zhi's tone hardened. "Do you think the former Crown Prince fought to the death at Mount Ziwei merely for the throne? You think it was just about ambition?"
"Watch your tongue!"
Cao Huan hurriedly folded the letter and tucked it away. "I can believe the Yan family's guilt—but to claim someone stands behind them? I won't accept that without proof."
"Fine."
Cao Zhi gave a tight nod. "But even if you won't believe me, are we to let the Yan family continue to poison the realm?"
"Absolutely not!"
Cao Huan's expression hardened, resolve flashing in his eyes. "Twelfth Brother, keep digging. Once we have proof, I'll use every resource at my disposal to bring them down!
"It's just a pity…" His voice faltered. "That our one hundred fifty thousand soldiers, and that white-robed commander, will die in Jiazhou for nothing."
——
Jiazhou.
Guandu.
The final day before the rations ran out.
"Grand Commander!"
Tong Xiaochu burst into the command tent in a panic. "He's here! Liao Fang has finally arrived—but he refuses to come in. He insists that you put on a black robe and personally meet him outside the city!"
"What? He's actually serious about that?"
Wang Zhi slammed the table in fury. "Ignore him! Since he came, he's already in our grasp. Drag him in and beat the truth out of him—then he'll talk!"
"That's enough," Chen Sanshi stopped him calmly.
This wasn't worth making a scene over.
He stood, grabbed a black robe, threw it over his white one, and strode out of the tent toward the city gate.
"Time is running short," said Wang Jun, staring coldly at the drunk, swaggering man before him. Everything about Liao Fang reminded him of that loathsome Qu Yuanxiang. "I've already agreed to all your terms. Why waste time with this nonsense?"
"I said it already! Chen himself must come out to meet me!"
Liao Fang, dressed in spotless white robes, pointed toward the soldiers standing atop the city wall. "I want them to see for themselves who the real White Robe is! If Chen doesn't come out in person—or if he's not wearing black—then forget it! You won't hear a single word about how to defeat the enemy from me!"
The flying sword hovering beside Wang Jun buzzed with killing intent.
To his surprise, Liao Fang didn't flinch. His eyes bulged, veins showing in his temples. "What, you think that broken sword scares me? Go on then! Kill me! If you kill me, all 150,000 of you will die here at Guandu! Do it!"
Grinding his teeth, Wang Jun closed his eyes and said nothing.
Then—
"Rumble—"
The massive city gates creaked open.
Ranks of soldiers marched out, forming two lines on either side of the road outside the gate.
And finally, at the end of the formation, the commander himself appeared—Chen Sanshi, wearing his usual white robe but covered now by a black cloak, walking swiftly forward.
Seeing him, Liao Fang's expression flickered with surprise.
He couldn't help but think to himself: No wonder this man rose to fame in just a few short years. To endure such humiliation so calmly—this is what it means to be made for greatness.
On the city wall, the old veterans from Poyang County saw the scene and erupted in outrage, cursing furiously.
Among them, Zhu Tong said nothing. He grabbed his war hammer and tried to sneak down the steps.
Luckily, Zhao Kang spotted him in time and grabbed him by the arm. "What are you doing?"
"What do you think?! I'm going to smash that bastard's skull!"
Zhu Tong's body surged with force, almost breaking free.
It had been four years since they'd left Poyang together. Four years—enough for a man to grow, to change. Especially in the last two years, since Chen Sanshi had started providing them with spiritual grain, ointments, and all manner of precious elixirs. Even the weakest among them had advanced rapidly.
Zhu Tong and Wang Li had both reached the Meridian-Connecting Realm.
"Hold it!" Zhao Kang shouted, pressing him down with help from Feng Yong. "You fool! That man's our only source of intel right now. Whatever you want to do, wait till later!"
After much struggling, they finally managed to restrain him.
Outside the city gate, Chen Sanshi was the first to speak. "Mister Liao of the White Robes, you've come a long way. I, Chen, have been occupied with military matters and failed to welcome you properly. I hope you'll forgive the slight."
"Heh, no need for such formality," Liao Fang replied, hands clasped behind his back, chin raised high. "We commanders shouldn't fuss over such trivialities."
"The banquet is ready," Chen Sanshi said, gesturing politely. "Please, Mister Liao, join me."
He personally led Liao Fang into the city, to the mansion that served as the central command tent.
The meat and wine came from slaughtered cattle taken from the local garrison farms.
The food was humble but the presentation was generous, and Liao Fang seemed quite pleased.
He sipped his wine but didn't touch the dishes. "Brother Sanshi," he said slowly, "it can't have been easy to put together a spread like this."
"That's true," Chen Sanshi said evenly. "We don't have much grain left."
"Not much?" Liao Fang snorted. "By my calculation, it's already gone. You'll be completely out of food in two days—three at most!"
"Brother Liao truly has divine foresight."
Chen Sanshi kept his tone neutral, feeding the man's pride.
"You…" Liao Fang leaned forward. "Do you have any strategy to break the enemy?"
"Surely Mister Liao has one," Chen Sanshi replied. "I would appreciate your insight."
Outside the tent, Zhao Kang could barely stand listening.
Their commander had already deduced where the enemy's supply depot was—yet here he was, flattering this insufferable drunk just to get confirmation.
"Hah! So the mighty Commander Chen also has blind spots," Liao Fang laughed smugly. "Let me tell you, the Great Sheng isn't the only one low on food. Western Qi's supplies are also nearly gone. If you burn their stores, their 300,000 troops will crumble in an instant!"
He slammed his palm onto the map spread before them.
"Do you know where Han Xiang stockpiled his provisions? No? Then let me tell you—Wucheng! Not long ago, Western Qi gathered an emergency conscription of grain. To simplify transport and management, they stored it all in Wucheng. Capture that city, and Han Xiang will lose the war!"
"I see."
Chen Sanshi nodded slightly.
It was exactly as he'd guessed—Wucheng was the most strategic location for storing supplies. Still, it was good to have confirmation.
"However," Liao Fang added, "there's a cultivator stronger than a Martial Saint in that city, plus more than 20,000 troops. The walls are sturdy. I've written down all their defenses here."
He pulled out a sheet of paper. "Whether you can take it or not depends on your own skill."
After verifying the information, Chen Sanshi took the document and stood to leave.
"Wait!" Liao Fang's voice trembled slightly. "Commander Chen, you're famous for your righteousness. Surely you won't, say, kill the donkey after it's done plowing?"
"You can rest assured," Chen Sanshi replied. "When this succeeds, I'll report your contribution to the court. You'll be credited as the primary merit-holder. Within five years, the title of Duke will be yours. The court won't be stingy. In short…" He paused, his gaze sharp. "As long as Mister Liao doesn't violate military discipline, every promise will be kept."
Without wasting another second, he turned and strode out.
Liao Fang downed another cup of wine and let out a satisfied sigh. "If this plan works, the name Liao Fang will be known throughout the world!"
Inside the camp, Chen Sanshi immediately gave orders: eat all the remaining grain, slaughter the last of the garrison's cattle and sheep, and let the 150,000 soldiers eat and drink their fill.
Immediately after, Chen Sanshi began the final deployment.
Wucheng's defenses were solid. Marching the entire army straight there was impossible—they would have to take a detour.
After long and careful thought, Chen Sanshi began issuing orders.
"Tong Xiaochu, hear my command! You'll lead two cultivators and ten thousand soldiers to feign an attack on Lu Prefecture. Make noise, draw attention. When Han Xiang sends forces to strike our main base at Gengyang Prefecture, you'll turn back and hit them from behind. Front and rear—attack together!"
This move was to divert the enemy's focus.
"Your subordinate obeys!"
"Teng Le, hear my command! You'll take two cultivators and twenty thousand troops to set an ambush eighty li outside the city, in the canyon. Hold the line until the last man if needed. You are not to retreat until you see flames rising from Wucheng!"
"Understood!"
"Wang Zhi, Chu Shixiong, Wei Xuan, Song Guizhi!"
Chen Sanshi's voice rang like thunder. "You'll march with me! Take the Hongze Battalion, and from the Supervisory Army, select seven thousand elites. Together, we strike Wucheng directly!"
"Yes!"
"Good!"
"By your command!"
"Wang Jun, Qu Yuanxiang—hear my command! You two will remain behind to defend Gengyang Prefecture!"
"Wait…" Wang Jun frowned. "You mean we're not joining the attack? But Wucheng has a True Force Realm cultivator guarding it. You're still in Mortal Shedding, aren't you?"
He had heard the rumors. A few days ago, Chen Sanshi had led a small raid and claimed publicly that he'd reached True Force Realm. But everyone knew it wasn't true.
"Yeah, Chen," said Qu Yuanxiang, who had recently returned from the capital, his tone full of scorn. "Aren't you afraid Han Xiang will come for you himself? He's at late-stage Qi Refining, nearly True Force. Killing you would be effortless!"
"He will come," Chen Sanshi said evenly. "But my life or death isn't your concern. Just follow my orders and hold Gengyang Prefecture. That's an order from your sect as well."
Even if Wucheng's granaries were destroyed, that wouldn't instantly cripple the Western Qi army. If Han Xiang attacked Gengyang and annihilated Chen's own forces, the Great Sheng would still be at a disadvantage.
That was why the defense of Gengyang was critical.
"Arrogant fool," Qu Yuanxiang muttered. He didn't disobey, though. "Whatever. When you die, I'll just slip away."
"Brother Chen, don't worry," Wang Jun said seriously. "I'll hold the city no matter what."
His position within his sect was mediocre; this campaign might be his only chance to earn a Foundation Establishment Pill. He wouldn't waste it.
"My thanks," Chen Sanshi clasped his fists in salute, then stepped out onto the drill ground.
Night had fallen. Firelight flickered across his white robe and silver spear, the black cloak draped over his shoulders casting long shadows. His voice boomed across the dark plain:
"Fifteen days ago, I told you—within fifteen days, victory or defeat would be decided!"
"Today, I fulfill that promise!"
"Tonight—"
"We take just one small city!"
"And Western Qi's three hundred thousand troops will crumble to ash!"
"This will be a feat unmatched in a hundred years!"
"Now tell me—are you willing to follow me, to earn glory and destroy the Qi invaders?!"
"We are willing!"
The army roared as one:
"Earn glory—"
"Destroy the Qi invaders—"
"Kill!"
"Kill!"
Their battle cries shook the heavens.
"Rumble—"
The gates of Gengyang Prefecture swung wide open.
The Hongze Battalion, together with the seven thousand elite troops from the Supervisory Army, forming a total of twenty-two thousand soldiers, marched into the night, swallowed by endless darkness.
——
In the Western Qi camp, on the high platform of the martial drill field, Han Xiang stood beneath blazing torches, staring at the map laid before him.
Below, cultivators Zhu Gui, Zhong Wuxin, and other commanders organized the forces and distributed orders for the next phase of deployment.
According to their calculations, the Great Sheng's grain was already exhausted. All that remained was to advance their army, surround the enemy, and wait. In as few as twenty days, perhaps even fifteen, the starving 150,000 soldiers of the Supervisory Army would surrender.
"Senior Brother Han!"
At that moment, a cultivator flew in on his sword. "Something's happened—I must report it. The one in charge of the grain ledgers, Liao Fang, fled at mao hour this morning. He rode off at full speed and vanished. We don't know where he went."
"What did you say?!"
The piece in Han Xiang's hand froze midair above the board. "Did you mistreat him?"
"H-he got drunk and caused trouble," the cultivator stammered. "He often insulted us behind our backs, so we… just scared him a little."
"Idiots!"
Han Xiang shot to his feet, shouting, "If you humiliated him, why didn't you just kill him?! Leaving him alive invites disaster! He's surely gone to Chen Sanshi, and by now, he's already told the enemy that our grain is stored in Wucheng!"
Hearing this, Zhong Wuxin, Gong Yu, and the other generals and cultivators all turned pale with shock.
"What should we do now?!"
Gong Yu's voice trembled like a man facing disaster. "We were about to claim total victory—are we really going to lose everything at this moment?!"
Though Han Xiang was furious that his fellow sect members' recklessness had caused such a blunder, he did not panic. His gaze stayed fixed on the chessboard before him. Slowly, he placed several alternating black and white stones, outlining the situation.
He spoke calmly. "If they wish to reach Wucheng without being detected by our garrisons along the way, their total force won't exceed 25,000. In fact, the real number will likely be even smaller.
"Our next move has two options.
First, we could immediately lead the main army to Wucheng. But time is short, and at most 50,000 troops could arrive in time.
Second, while their main force attacks Wucheng, we could mobilize our entire army to strike directly at Gengyang Prefecture."
"Senior Brother Han, we can't go to Wucheng!" Zhu Gui urged. "That Chen Sanshi—when he was still in Mortal Shedding Realm, he slaughtered 10,000 men without tiring, and even killed late-stage Qi Refining cultivators with ease. If he's attacking Wucheng, he'll surely bring Shengyun Sect's late-stage cultivators with him. Even with 50,000 troops, we may not be certain of victory!
"I believe we should attack Gengyang Prefecture instead. Their army's still inside the city. If we break through, we leave none alive—this war will be over at once! We won't even need to wait a full month!
"Then we can return to the sect and report our success!"
He leaned closer to Han Xiang and whispered, "And Senior Brother, don't forget—if we strike Gengyang, at worst we lose a few mortal pawns. But if we face Chen Sanshi head-on, you and I could both die."
The truth was, most of them hadn't come to this mortal world to fight or die—they came seeking immortality, not endless bloodshed.
"Transmit my command," Han Xiang said at last.
In his mind echoed the image of the White Robe slaughtering foes on the wasteland. The memory burned bright and cold. He placed a black stone on the board with a sharp click, his voice deep and unyielding.
"Full army advance!
"Target…
Gengyang Prefecture!"
——
Across the wilderness, Chen Sanshi led the Hongze Battalion forward at full speed.
Beside him, Wei Xuan asked nervously, "Brother Chen, shouldn't we bring at least one late-stage Qi Refining cultivator? Wucheng has a True Force Realm martial expert. The difference between qi and true force—it's like heaven and earth."
In truth, Chen Sanshi was only a step away from opening the Eighth Divine Aperture of the upper realm. But he no longer had time to wait.
Liao Fang was cowardly yet prideful—he had insisted on being received in person before revealing any intelligence. Now that he had defected, Han Xiang would soon notice.
There was no time left for cultivation.
Battle itself is cultivation.
And not just any kind—the most direct, the most efficient form of it.
"Brother Chen," asked Song Guizhi, her eyes full of curiosity, "why are you so sure Han Xiang will choose to attack Gengyang instead of reinforcing Wucheng?"
"Because," Chen Sanshi replied, his tone low and steady, "he won't have enough troops to reach Wucheng in time. And more importantly…"
He narrowed his eyes. "I'll make sure he knows exactly where I am—so he'll die with that knowledge."
As they spoke, the dark outline of their destination appeared ahead.
In the pale moonlight stood a modest but sturdy city—Wucheng—rising from the ground like a beast blocking the road.
Chen Sanshi reined in his horse. The army halted behind him.
He opened several storage pouches collected from the sect cultivators, pulling out one siege engine after another.
Storage pouches weren't enough to hold provisions for hundreds of thousands, but for siege weapons—they were perfect.
Since joining the army, Chen Sanshi's victories had always relied on mobility and cavalry tactics. But this time, it was different.
This battle would be a siege.
He ordered all soldiers to dismount and hand their horses over to Qian Xun for safekeeping.
"Brothers!"
"The enemy stands right ahead!"
"I'll take the lead as vanguard—cutting a path for you all!"
"Seize this city—and the Western Qi will fall!"
The 22,000 soldiers roared in unison.
"Destroy Western Qi!"
"Destroy Western Qi!"
"Kill—!"
"Kill—!"
Chen Sanshi lifted the Mystic Pearl in his hand.
Since the battle at Wolf Juxu Mountain, the pearl's mysterious energy had grown exponentially. Even during their stay in Gengyang, it had continued to swell.
He was certain now—the mystic energy wasn't linked to victory or defeat, but to something like public will, or the hearts of the people.
Whatever its nature, the energy within was enough to empower the entire army for one activation of the Celestial Scripture Formation.
After a full night of marching, dawn was approaching.
By the time they reached the city, it was already mao hour.
The sky was lightening; a faint white shimmer stretched along the eastern horizon. The air glowed with a soft golden hue, and morning mist drifted lazily across the plains. For a brief moment, the world seemed calm and peaceful.
Until the killing aura surged skyward.
The rising sun dimmed beneath its weight.
"Army—form up!"
"Clang—"
Chen Sanshi drew his Mountain-Suppressing Sword and pointed it toward the dawn, his voice like thunder rolling through the earth.
"Qiankun Earth-Dragon Formation!"
This formation, drawn from the Celestial Scriptures, had long since become part of the Great Sheng army's standard training.
Even the 7,000 soldiers from the Supervisory Army were well-drilled in its use.
Under the signal of the command banners, 22,000 men took their positions with flawless precision, aligning their breathing and spirit until they resonated with the natural rhythm of the world.
The Mystic Pearl burst with energy, flooding the formation from above.
In that instant, every soldier felt their bodies merge with the land beneath their feet—as if they were the veins of the earth itself, able to summon the Earth Dragon's power.
"Hongze Battalion!"
"Charge!"
"Take the city!"