Imdiately, the flas flowed back upstream along the water, leaping past the feet of the panicked Longxi soldiers as if countless golden fire lotuses blood. Each lotus devoured a person, and scores of soldiers fell into the sea of fire, desperately running and screaming, so were engulfed in an instant, turning into charred remains; yet the flas were unsatisfied, climbing back to the side of the waterwheel in a blink, sprinting upward along the cut made by the blade—
BOOM!
Another deafening explosion sounded out.
The waterwheel burst into a ball of fire, violently exploding, with countless flas mingling with splintering wooden shards piercing into the bodies of those nearby. The Longxi Army, not yet consud by the flas spreading on the ground, were struck by this wave of attack, incessant wailing followed as scores fell to the ground.
Xue Xian could hardly believe his eyes.
Yet all of this, the sky-high flas, the waterwheels bursting into flas one after another, the soldiers toppled by the flas and shards of wood, all were happening vividly!
Right before his eyes!
The raging flas not only devoured countless Longxi Army lives but at this mont also burned away his rationality.
Xue Xian stared blankly ahead, even forgetting to react.
Compared to the last two tis, nearly defeated at the hands of Yu Wenye, he never imagined that after Yu Wenye fell ill, weak and seemingly unable to resist—indeed, virtually on the brink of capturing Fufeng City—it would launch such a desperate counterattack at the last mont.
And this strike was lethal!
Xue Xian suddenly lifted his head, glaring with bloodshot eyes across the flas to the slender, frail figure standing atop the high tower.
At this mont, those eyes, also reddened by the reflection of the flas, exuded an extraordinary calmness, observing the chaotic scene below.
Shang Ruyi took a deep breath.
The flas rising from the trench had nearly engulfed her, but fortunately, Shantong’er quickly pulled her away, preventing her from falling into the sa hell as those below. Now, her sches had all succeeded; the flas devoured most of the attacking Longxi Army, those unable to retreat were thoroughly subdued by the exploding waterwheels, yet she felt an unusual calmness.
Taking a step back, she said in a low voice, "Dai Junliang!"
But at this mont, her voice was imdiately swallowed by the cheering that erupted around them; Shang Ruyi turned her head to see the surrounding soldiers, shocked by the scene before them, had all started cheering.
The archers beside her, who had just been in despair and frustration, were now overjoyed—
"This is great!"
"Hahaha, heaven is on our side!"
"These Longxi soldiers are dood!"
While everyone cheered and leaped, several trembling figures ascended the tower. It was Ma Xu and Song Yu, who had just scrambled back into the city, barely saving their lives. Covered in blood and mud, they looked down at the sea of fire below, along with the soldiers’ jubilant cheers, leaving them montarily stunned.
Ma Xu murmured, "How, how can there be such a big fire? Weren’t we transporting water?"
Yet the scent drifting through the air imdiately provided them with the answer.
It was tung oil.
Though they had indeed fetched much river water during the day, an equal portion was the readily ignitable tung oil!
"So much tung oil..."
Song Yu’s eyes, stained red by the flas, instinctively remarked, "No wonder, no wonder we couldn’t find the tung oil—"
Before he could finish, Shang Ruyi turned her gaze on him.
Although earlier he felt as if he was on the brink of death at the hands of the General’s wife’s arrows, and didn’t know why she stopped, now, he didn’t even have the strength to step forward and question, being pushed aside by yet another excited crowd, only to see Dai Junliang rushing forward, exclaiming to Shang Ruyi, "Madam, we’ve succeeded!"
His eyes were also reddened by the fire below, but this ti, it was the excited blood red; the flas seed to ignite his passion.
Only then did Shang Ruyi withdraw her gaze from Song Yu.
"Don’t rush,"
Facing Dai Junliang’s excitent, Shang Ruyi appeared even more composed: "It’s not yet ti for us to celebrate."
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