A hundred miles away, in a camp.
Jiang Hong, one of the four Commanders of Hanyun Valley, stared at the Map of Mountains and Rivers on the wall, quietly listening to his adjutant's report. Finally, he nodded. "Notify the troops. Send tens of thousands to hold them off. The rest are to remain in place for now."
"Commander, those tens of thousands will probably…"
The adjutant, Huo Long, started to speak, but Jiang Hong cut him off. "They're facing a million Martial Guards with overwhelming montum. Isn't it perfectly normal for tens of thousands to die?"
"Besides, we don't have to take the bla for this. We'll pin it all on the War God of the State."
"As long as we bring him down, we stand to gain the most."
Huo Long grinned. "The Commander is right!"
"Oh, right." Jiang Hong turned, glancing at his wristwatch. "When will he arrive?"
"No news yet. By the looks of it, it should be this afternoon."
Jiang Hong nodded, baring his teeth in a smile. "By the ti he gets here, the battle should already be decided. We can release the news directly."
"Understood!"
…
A gentle breeze stirred, lifting strands of hair.
Chen Yang, holding a blood-drenched Longsword, stood face-to-face with over two hundred thousand Martial Guards.
An adjutant had been beheaded in public.
And he had told their Commander to retreat another hundred miles?
Heh… this was simply outrageous. Did this single man truly intend to stop hundreds of thousands of Martial Guards all by himself?
"I admit, you are formidable," the Barbarian Commander, Qin Zhiming, finally spoke, his voice grim. "But don't you dare underestimate us!"
"You have no reinforcents. Do you really think you can stop our iron cavalry?"
Chen Yang shrugged, and his black cloak fell slowly to the ground, revealing a military uniform.
Qin Zhiming's pupils shrank violently.
The insignia of a Python Sparrow Devouring a Dragon, and on his shoulders, ten stars.
This… this was the War God of the State!
"It's… it's you!" Qin Zhiming's expression shifted drastically. In a grave voice, he said, "So after all these twists and turns, being dismissed was just a ruse. Your real goal was to advance further? Was this your way of luring the snake out of its hole?"
If they hadn't heard that the Zhennan Prince had been removed from his post, they would never have dared to make a move. But now… it was obvious they had been duped.
"We never initiate aggression." Chen Yang reached out and caught a falling leaf, twirling it slowly in his hand. "If you hadn't harbored malicious intent, today's scene would never have occurred."
"Why did you co alone? Aren't you afraid of death?" Qin Zhiming asked somberly.
Deep down, he still felt an instinctual fear of Chen Yang. Coupled with the current, illogical situation, he truly didn't dare to act rashly. As the saying goes, all's fair in war. If they fell for the enemy's ploy, they might be utterly dood here.
"I alone am enough," Chen Yang stated.
Qin Zhiming was speechless.
Does he really intend to hold off my two hundred thousand vanguard Martial Departnt troops all by himself?
"You've grown arrogant," Qin Zhiming said grimly. "Without those eight hundred thousand Martial Guards, you're nothing but a toothless tiger. Surely you don't think I'm still afraid of you?"
WHOOSH!
As he spoke, two hundred thousand soldiers drew their blades in unison. A tidal wave of murderous intent soared into the sky.
"Raise the banner!" Chen Yang, as immovable as a mountain, commanded Yang Hu.
SWISH.
Yang Hu unfurled the battle flag he had prepared and held it aloft with his arm. The Python Sparrow Devouring Dragon banner fluttered fiercely in the wind.
Even though there were only two of them, their imposing presence was in no way inferior to their enemy's.
"How about we plant this battle flag a hundred miles from here?" Chen Yang asked.
"In your dreams!"
Qin Zhiming glared at Chen Yang with fury and leaped into the air from his horse. Drawing his blade, he was enveloped in a thick killing intent as he lunged forward with lightning speed.
At the sa ti, the two hundred thousand Martial Guards moved.
BOOM!
Yellow sand surged into the sky, obscuring the sun.
"I have turned my past sha into strength! Now that I've advanced to the fifteenth-stage Chessboard Constellation, why would I be afraid of you?"
Qin Zhiming was an old warhorse with a renewed spirit. After enduring years of bitterness and hardship, no one had expected him, at his age, to have an opportunity to advance. During the battle of Great River Bay years ago, they had both been at the fourteenth stage, yet Chen Yang had forced him into a humiliating retreat. It had beco a painful mory that haunted him.
Today, it was ti to wash away that sha.
With that, Qin Zhiming gripped his blade with both hands and brought it crashing down with the force of a falling mountain.
BANG!
The ground cracked, kicking up clouds of yellow sand.
Chen Yang took a step forward, his sword swinging out to et the blow.
In a flash of fire and lightning, Qin Zhiming's broadsword was knocked high into the air, striking his own chest. As he coughed up a spray of blood, his body was flung backward even faster than he had charged in.
More than ten ters away, Qin Zhiming landed awkwardly and stumbled back, each step blasting a large crater in the ground. Fissures spread across the earth as dust filled the air.
As for Chen Yang, after taking a single step back, the web of his hand gripping the Longsword began to trickle with blood.
"It seems I still got a little hurt," Chen Yang said, shaking his head.
To Qin Zhiming's ears, these words were the ultimate humiliation. His expression contorted as he stared at Chen Yang in horror.
It turns out, he advanced as well!
He had thought his newfound strength would be enough to suppress his opponent, but in the end…
"Cough, cough." Qin Zhiming coughed up mouthfuls of blood, his face as pale as paper.
Through his crimson-red eyes, he saw Chen Yang raise his sword once more, a brilliant golden light swirling around the blade.
"No!" Qin Zhiming's face changed drastically. He roared, "All of you, retreat!" even as he charged forward himself.
SWISH!
The sword swept out in an arc that spanned hundreds of ters.
BOOM!
Qin Zhiming bore the brunt of the attack. His war saber shattered, and like a kite with its string cut, he tumbled backward through a mist of his own blood.
Then, following him…
SLICE! SLICE!
Like the arrival of the Grim Reaper's scythe, the Martial Guards fell row after row, like dominoes. Screams tore through the heavens as the yellow sand was stained red with blood.
WHOOSH!
Another swing of the sword.
Like wheat bending in the wind, they all fell in unison.
With just two swings, eighty thousand enemies had been slain.
The remaining soldiers were utterly terrified.
"Well?" Chen Yang asked, holding his sword in one hand while twirling the withered leaf with the other, his eyes fixed on Qin Zhiming.
Qin Zhiming was speechless.
Everyone else was speechless.
RUMBLE…
In the distance, the earth began to shake and the mountains swayed. A storm of yellow sand rolled in, darkening the entire sky.
"Here they co!" Yang Hu laughed.
Chen Yang smiled as well.
These eight hundred thousand brave n truly didn't want to miss a single battle.
For them, they were a single fla when gathered, but countless stars when scattered. If there was a battle to be fought, they would answer the call and return.
Their enemies, however, felt a chill creep into their bones, their expressions filled with dread.
Qin Zhiming sat slumped in a pool of blood, his gaze vacant. He looked as if he had aged ten years in an instant. The king's return was one thing, but for those eight hundred thousand fierce soldiers to have gathered as well…
It's over… This ti, it's completely over!
Chen Yang took a few steps forward, raised his Longsword high, and swung it forward.
BOOM!
The eight hundred thousand Martial Guards of the Forr Hanyun Valley charged like a sweeping storm, heading straight for the enemy's reserve Martial Departnt. In that mont, like ferocious tigers freed from their cages, the very color of the world seed to change.
Chen Yang turned back to Qin Zhiming. He said nothing, simply watched him.
Qin Zhiming staggered to his feet, holding a piece of his broken saber. "It is a matter of ti and fate. Perhaps this… is our destiny."
SLICE!
The broken blade swept across his neck. Amid a gush of blood, a great general of his ti took his own life on the battlefield.
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