The crowd was deathly silent.
The old village chief, his hair and beard bristling with rage, stord in, grabbed a person out, and gave him a hard slap, saying, "Selling out your own people, are you still part of the Martial World? Can you no longer speak of loyalty?!"
Then he pointed at them and said, "Each of you committed grave offenses in your hotown, endured imnse hardships to escape, and now you can’t stay in your holand because of the Western Regions foreigners, so you banded together here."
"You all said you only wanted a place to settle, and that we wouldn’t delve into each other’s past. So why is it that when trouble cos to you, the Guest Elder uses his bow to help you settle it, but now that he’s in danger, you want to push him out to save yourselves?!"
"There’s absolutely no such logic!"
Soone, unconvinced, said, "But our troubles never amounted to a Sixth Layer Heaven fad general leading five thousand Iron Cavalry to our doorstep..."
The old village chief retorted angrily, "But your troubles could still easily cost you your lives!"
"Whether trampled by ten thousand troops or pierced through the heart by a sharp sword, it’s all the sa death."
"How is it any different!"
"Martial artists, it all boils down to trading one death for another, one payback for another!"
The crowd gradually fell silent, though a sense of dissatisfaction lingered.
The old village chief felt sowhat weary, realizing the Martial World of today was not as it was in his ti, which made him a bit dispirited.
Wang Shunchen could hear the conversations outside, but he no longer cared.
He rely looked out from the high point of the village at the vast desert landscape, at the thousands of cavalry who had not attacked the village that day. Unbeknownst to him, another day had passed, and the bright moon had risen into the sky.
Wang Shunchen had been drinking, muddily finishing the last drop of wine. He tossed the wine jug aside, stumbled over to the bed, and sat down heavily as his legs gave out.
The room was shrouded in darkness.
Seemingly dazed from the drink, he sat there for a long ti in a daze before leaning forward and seeing a box. He reached out his hand, fingers curling to grab and grasping the dull gray box, pulled it out.
Wang Shunchen exhaled, blew away the dust, patted it, then lifted his left hand to the table, rubbed it against it, and grabbed the lamp, using a fire stone to strike it several tis before barely lighting the oil lamp.
Amidst the desert night’s darkness.
In silence, he opened the box, revealing a set of dismantled armor. When he left, he threw away the Treasure Armor bestowed by the emperor, but he still took with him the armor from his days in the Taiping Army.
He reached out to stroke the armor, viewing it under the lamp’s light with drunkenness. The armor seed simple, lacking the mysterious might of the emperor’s treasure armor. Wang Shunchen closed his eyes, not knowing if he was drunk or awake, as if he could still see the Taiping Army camp and hear familiar sounds.
The sound of armor clashing and swords unsheathed.
Boom!!!
Wang Shunchen’s heart pounded vigorously, discarding the Martial World robe he wore and donning the familiar yet strange armor, standing there like a once-familiar general.
He tied his disheveled hair with a headband and said quietly:
"Great General, I return to your command. In this battle, I will not disgrace the na of the Taiping Army. These five thousand n want my life, then I shall tell them!"
He reached out and grabbed the war bow, the bowstring singing fiercely.
A man whose heart had died for over a decade had his eyes ignited once more with blazing fire, the bowstring singing violently, transforming into a massive Flying Eagle Dharma Form behind him, the surrounding void distorted, a man steadfast even unto death.
The Divine Shooter General had not achieved Grandmaster; the Taiping Duke had already passed.
He too had his own way of eting death.
The next morning, at dawn’s light, Cheriji planned to seize the mont for an assault, but surprisingly, the village gates opened, and Cheriji frowned slightly, seeing only one man erge from the gates.
Dressed in radiant silver armor, donned in a Qilin Red Battle Robe, wearing a Fierce Beast Swallowing Rhinoceros Horn Belt, holding a Mountain Shooting Tiger Moon Bow, and wielding a Bronze Spear as thick as a wrist, the man stepped out, his gaze falling calmly.
Cheriji instinctively tightened his reins.
Looking at this familiar nightmare, seeing the man’s temples speckled with white hair.
"Wang Shunchen..."
"You have indeed grown old."
Curses echoed from the village, but Wang Shunchen had already moved his wrist, stabbing his spear behind to prop the village gate, then triggered the chanisms on both sides to lock the gate shut, removing the bow, Condensing Qi into Soldiers, and with a single shot, struck down a traitor who attempted to open the gate to allow the cavalry inside.
The scent of blood perated as Wang Shunchen looked ahead, saying:
"Five thousand Qie Xue Army, very well, very good."
"It suits the way I, Wang Shunchen, will die!"
Cheriji unhesitatingly shouted, "Charge!!!"
In an instant, formations ford, but just at the mont when the Qi chanism linked, three arrows spun and flew out, precisely following the gaps in the military formation’s Qi chanism flow.
The three arrows pierced the sole weak point, shooting into the brains through the eye slits of the Qie Xue Army’s face masks, punctuated by a muffled grunt, and three Qie Xue soldiers fell amid the formation, cleverly disrupting the charging montum.
Wang Shunchen had already leapt into the air, the aura of the Sixth Layer Heaven thrusting from the side into the battle formation, kneeling against the shield raised by the Qie Xue Army, his brow eagle-like, and the bowstring singing as three more Armored Cavalry fell.
He was rely an older, grey-haired warrior, wearing armor and a battle robe long discarded by the era, laughing heartily as he launched a death-defying charge against the five thousand Iron Cavalry, his deanor appearing intensely grim and deadly.
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