The moonlight was cool and dim.
A bitter wind rose from all sides.
Behind her was a barrier of the formation, its blood-red light flickering. A giant snake roared and hissed, slamming against it in a frenzy, but the girl refused to yield an inch.
Ahead, flames soared into the sky. There was the thrum of war, the clash of iron and steel, and the glint of blades and swords. In the dense forest, giant bamboo fell in great swaths amidst earth-shaking battle cries.
Ruan Zhong carried the massive bamboo raft in one hand, soaring through the air. Xu Xian and the other five guarded his sides, swords drawn as they followed.
Before long, they encountered the Black Iron Cavalry of Yecheng head-on.
The Black Iron Cavalry stood in battle readiness. Without a word of explanation, they launched an assault.
The thunderous snap of bowstrings echoed. Looking up, a volley of ten thousand arrows blotted out the sky, falling like a curtain of rain.
Feng Shisan charged at the front, his sword surging with power to intercept the arrow rain. He flashed his waist token and identified himself.
"I am Feng Shisan, Master of the Wendao Sword Sect's Yecheng Supervision Hall! There are thousands of infants here! Cease your fire at once!"
Yet the only response was another wave of cold arrows, one volley following another without pause.
"Dammit!"
A young commander at the early core formation stage blocked their path, shouting, "Bold demons! How dare you impersonate disciples of the Wendao Sword Sect? You are lawless! Surrender now!"
Feng Shisan was livid. He roared back, "Presumptuous! I have my waist token and the dao jade of the Wendao Sword Sect! Are you attempting a rebellion?"
The general remained unmoved. He raised his arm and proclaimed loudly, "Your honeyed words won't deceive anyone! The Grand Marshal has ordered that these evildoers, in league with beasts, have slaughtered the infants of our Yecheng. Execute them on the spot! Leave none alive!"
"Kill!"
"Kill!!"
"Kill!!!"
The armored soldiers shouted in unison, drawing their blades and advancing together.
Ten thousand armored troops spread through the mountain forest, a black mass surging forward under the moonlight like a tide, making the very earth tremble.
The sight was truly enough to make one's skin crawl.
"Distorting the truth... What a piece of work you are, Min Zhan. What a piece of work, this Black Armor Cavalry. A bunch of traitorous dogs," Feng Shisan cursed.
Xu Xian's eyes were cold. He gripped Wait tightly and said in a low voice, "Words are useless. We can only carve our way out."
Ruan Zhong muttered, "The Little Grand-Uncle is right. They are but a few thousand soldiers; we shall crush them."
"Kill!"
By now, there was no other way.
Everything was within their expectations; this battle was inevitable.
The seven of them charged the formation.
To cultivators, the rain of arrows was practically decorative. Fighting mortals with cold steel was an exercise in absolute devastation. Especially for a sword body like Xu Xian’s—even if he stood still and let them shoot, they could never hope to break his defense.
In the blink of an eye, the seven clashed with the Black Iron Cavalry in a chaotic melee.
Xu Xian’s heavy sword unsheathed, instantly tearing through the enemy formation as he carved a straight path forward.
The charging cavalry were instantly routed, falling into a panicked mess. Those hulking soldiers in heavy armor were like paper before them; a single sword strike sliced through both man and horse alike.
However, their numbers were vast.
The group soon found themselves bogged down by the enemy's human sea tactics, finding it difficult to break free.
Furthermore, commanders at the foundation establishment stage would occasionally strike from within the military tide.
There were also core formation cultivators acting as restraints against them.
As time passed, the soldiers who had finished off the demonic cultivators also began to converge on their position.
The defensive line tightened as enemies attacked from all directions—from trees, from behind bamboo, with small-scale formations, and pre-arranged traps.
It made every step a struggle for the seven.
They had already fought a bloody battle all night and were now like spent arrows. Even a veteran of a hundred battles would find their strength failing.
Moreover, Ruan Zhong, their strongest combatant, had to divide his attention to protect the infants on the raft, preventing him from unleashing his full power.
They moved through the dense forest like a lonely boat in a vast ocean.
Fighting through desperation, a path of blood gradually became clear under the moon...
Xu Xian had long lost track of how many he had killed. His clothes were soaked through with the blood of his enemies as he numbly swung Wait.
The path behind them was littered with corpses, yet the throng of people before them seemed endless.
Compared to the previous skirmishes with cultivators, this slaughter was, theoretically, a true war.
Death.
Constant death.
Ceaseless killing.
This was the fundamental difference between a duel and a war.
There were too many people. Even if the gap in strength was immense, if this continued, these armored soldiers would eventually grind them down through sheer attrition.
But they had no choice.
Either they broke through, or they died.
Nothing more.
On the mountain peak, the old general Min Zhan watched everything quietly. His lips held a constant smirk of disdain and playfulness, as if the deaths of these armored soldiers had nothing to do with him.
People often said that a general loved his troops most of all, especially a veteran who had spent a lifetime on the battlefield.
Clearly, Min Zhan was not such a man.
He was enjoying himself.
He enjoyed the visual impact of the war, especially the heaven-shaking cries of battle. To his ears, they were exceptionally soothing, bringing a strange sense of peace.
It was as if he were listening to a symphony of war.
After a while, a scout climbed the mountain and reported, "Grand Marshal, the people from the Blood Demon Cave have all been dealt with."
"Mm."
The old general merely grunted.
The scout stole a glance at the old general and said in a slightly weaker tone, "These few from the Wendao Sword Sect are a bit troublesome. They are sticking together, unlike those from the Blood Demon Cave who fought individually. There is a nascent soul cultivator among them. Our army is suffering heavy casualties. Should you... perhaps intervene personally?"
The old general glared at him, a chilling light flashing in his deep eyes.
"Hmm?"
The young scout was terrified.
The old general mused, "Where are these Wendao Sword Sect disciples? Why haven't I seen any?"
The scout quickly changed his tune. "It was my mistake. There are no Wendao Sword Sect disciples. There is just a small group of demonic cultivators still putting up a desperate final struggle."
Hearing this, the old general's piercing gaze slowly shifted back to the battlefield below, which was drawing closer.
He stood up, hands behind his back, and said deeply, "This group of demonic cultivators slaughtered nine disciples of the Wendao Sword Sect and killed thousands of my soldiers. It seems it is time for me to act."
The scout hurriedly said, "The Marshal is wise."
The old general strode down the mountain, laughing heartily. "Come, follow me to crush these evildoers! Hahaha!"
The old general joined the fray.
The scout wiped his forehead. As the saying goes, serving a ruler is like serving a tiger. The old general was equally temperamental; a single wrong word had broken the scout out in a cold sweat. That aura was far beyond what an ordinary person could withstand.
His killing intent was far too heavy.
With a sigh of relief, the scout hurried to catch up.
In the battlefield, the group had been surrounded by soldiers, making forward progress extremely difficult.
The five disciples were at their limit. Xu Xian was struggling to cover both front and rear, and Ruan Zhong was barely holding on.
Amidst the struggle, Xu Xian suddenly felt a sharp, chilling killing intent approaching. Looking up, he saw an old general charging through the darkness, wielding a gleaming mountain-cleaver.
Though his hair was white, the man was as strong as an ox.
Having lost his Pupil of Insight, Xu Xian could not see the man's cultivation level. However, the surging killing intent on the man's body triggered his survival instincts.
This person was dangerous.
"Watch out!"
He called out a warning, but he was still a step too slow.
With a single stride, the old general vanished and reappeared in the center of the battlefield. One of the Supervision Hall disciples didn't have time to react before the massive blade swung down toward his head.
He hurriedly raised his sword to block.
In exchange, his spirit sword snapped, and he was cleaved in two.
Instant death. It happened so fast that even Feng Shisan and the others hadn't processed it before it was over.
The old general flicked the blood off his blade, appearing as calm as a gentle breeze.
"Heh—is that all?"
Ruan Zhong recognized the newcomer. Witnessing the scene, his eyes turned bloodshot, and he let out a furious roar.
"Min Zhan, you old beast!"
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