"Take Wang Zhi and go! I'll hold him off!"
"Lord Chen?!"
Zhao Kang and the others turned toward the white horse, their faces pale. "He's Meridian-Connecting!"
"Cut the crap! Do what the lord says!"
Taking advantage of the High Priest chasing after the white horse, Feng Yong hoisted Wang Zhi onto his back and led the soldiers into a hasty retreat.
"You're right—the white horse's speed is terrifying. It should be able to shake him off."
Zhao Kang gritted his teeth and followed close behind.
"So, a mere tempering organs cultivator managed to stop my three thousand iron cavalry? I'd like to see just how capable you are!"
Amugu's interest in the others vanished completely. He ordered his subordinates to clean up the battlefield and spurred his horse after the young general.
"This horse…"
He soon realized something was off. The white steed beneath Chen Sanshi wasn't ordinary—its speed and endurance far surpassed any warhorse. It was closer to a spirit beast. "That horse will be mine!"
The distance between them widened quickly.
Amugu snorted coldly and suddenly leapt from his horse, using it as a springboard to propel himself forward more than ten zhang in a single bound. He disappeared into the dense forest.
A shortcut!
The White Swan horse, magnificent as it was, couldn't maintain its full speed through the thick trees.
If Chen Sanshi dismounted, even with his [Moves as Light as a Swallow], he still wouldn't outrun a Meridian-Connecting expert.
A rustling sound came from the slope to his right—rapid footsteps slicing through the brush.
Amugu's figure appeared in flashes, his speed terrifying. He was little more than a blur now, covering several zhang in each blink. Before Chen Sanshi reached open ground, Amugu would surely catch him.
"Good horse, Qianxun—go ahead without me."
Chen Sanshi leapt from the saddle, striking a firefold against the torches tied to the horse's pack. Flames flared up instantly. He lit the oil-soaked fire arrows and pulled his bowstring taut, releasing shot after shot. Each draw was fast as lightning.
"Excellent archery!"
Amugu raised an eyebrow in admiration. "Your riding and shooting are first-class talent. Pity you're not one of us from the plains! But don't waste your effort—even a Ten-Stone Bow can't harm me!"
He swung his Vajra pestle, knocking the arrows aside like they were twigs. Then, roaring like a tiger, he lunged through the air.
Clang!
The Reed-Leaf Spear met the Vajra pestle with an ear-splitting crash.
A terrifying shockwave surged down the spear shaft, slamming into Chen Sanshi's arms. The Blood of the Dragon and Elephant raged within him as his entire body transformed into the Body of Vajra. His bronze skin shimmered, his bones rang like steel, and his forearms vibrated with a metallic hum.
Even so, the pain was immense. The hardwood spear shaft flexed violently like a bowstring, and he had no choice but to release it before his arms shattered.
"Die!"
Amugu appeared before him in a flash, thrusting his Vajra pestle straight for his heart.
Clang!
The strike rang out like a giant bell.
Chen Sanshi had drawn his Mountain-Suppressing Sword, blocking the blow just in time. The impact was like a mountain crashing into him—he was hurled backward several zhang, slamming into a tree trunk so hard his organs ached. He staggered, stabbing his sword into the ground to stay upright. In his other hand, the torch still burned, and a trickle of blood slid down the corner of his mouth.
This was the first time he'd ever been injured since he started training.
Not because he was weak.
But because his opponent was Meridian-Connecting.
Meridian-Connecting, Profound Manifestation, Martial Saint.
That meant the man before him was only one major realm away from becoming a Martial Saint.
"Not bad," Amugu sneered. "You've taken two of my strikes and lived. Impressive!"
But while he spoke, his body was already moving again, faster than before, charging in for the kill.
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—"
Chen Sanshi rammed his torch into the ground, snatched his bow again, and fired in one fluid motion—draw, ignite, release.
Amugu caught one of the fire arrows midair. His palm pulsed with invisible force, snuffing out the flames before crushing the arrow shaft like paper.
Another flaming arrow came whistling toward him.
"Still not giving up?"
Amugu scoffed and repeated the motion, casually catching the arrow. But this time, his hand twitched.
The shaft was scorching hot.
"Hm?"
Boom!
A crimson flame exploded outward, surging several zhang high. The fire twisted into a blazing dragon, engulfing Amugu completely. The High Priest of the Witch God Sect didn't even have time to scream before he was reduced to a pile of ash.
Chen Sanshi exhaled, sitting heavily on the ground. He steadied his breath, using the Haoran Breathing Method to suppress the pain in his body.
It was his last resort—but it had worked.
He'd planned this in advance.
Even if the arrows failed, his Mountain-Suppressing Sword was already coated in lamp oil. One spark would have turned it into a blazing blade capable of cleaving anything.
But he'd been reluctant to use it.
A sword forged in the mortal realm couldn't withstand celestial flame for long.
It would be a pity to ruin such a fine weapon.
As for exposure—he'd already confirmed that no other Witch God Sect followers had followed Amugu this far.
Even if a few had, no more than a dozen, they'd be nothing without their leader—mere chickens to the slaughter.
Those who hadn't followed were simply lucky to live another day.
"Meridian-Connecting, huh…"
Chen Sanshi recalled the strange power Amugu had used—it wasn't just physical strength but force, a condensed form of energy that could cling to one's body or weapon.
'I wonder if I can make that same power cling to my arrows…'
Otherwise, his archery might not be enough to wound those at higher realms.
'Tempering organs isn't enough. I'll need more time to reach the next stage.'
He still preferred the feeling of one arrow, one kill.
'But now's not the time for daydreaming.'
He quickly swallowed a few healing pills, then scattered Amugu's ashes into the wind, ensuring no trace remained. Finally, he set the nearby forest ablaze.
A warm brush of fur pressed against his cheek.
Qianxun had returned, nuzzling him gently as if to check his wounds.
"It's fine. Just a scratch. Let's move."
Chen Sanshi picked up the Reed-Leaf Spear, mounted the horse, and rode off into the morning light.
The next day, at the main camp.
"What?!"
"Meridian-Connecting?!"
Sun Buqi stared at Tang Ruoshan, who was lying unconscious and pale as a corpse. His eyes bulged. "Where's Sanshi? You mean to tell me you left him alone to fight a Meridian-Connecting expert?!"
"He ordered us to take Wang Zhi and retreat," Zhao Kang said, his voice low. "He stayed behind to lure away the High Priest of the Witch God Sect…"
Everyone looked uneasy, guilt weighing heavy on their faces.
But in the army, obedience came first.
They'd chosen to follow Chen Sanshi as their commander—so when he gave an order, they obeyed. Whether he told them to charge or retreat, they followed without question.
"I'm going to find him."
Sun Buqi gripped his spear and started toward his horse.
"You can't, Young Master Sun!"
Several men hurriedly pulled him back. "Lord Chen's White Swan horse is unmatched in speed. He might have already escaped by now. If you go, you might just get in his way."
Sun Buqi hesitated, uncertain.
"I'm fine!"
A familiar voice rang out, and the white horse came galloping into view.
Everyone exhaled in relief at once.
"How's Wang Zhi?"
Chen Sanshi asked, "Is he dead?"
"No."
Zhao Kang pressed two fingers to the man's neck. "There's still a faint pulse—but I doubt he'll last much longer."
Chen Sanshi took out every healing medicine he still carried and handed them to Wang Zhi's nephews to tend to him.
Whether the man survived or not depended on his own fate now.
The battlefield had never cared about mercy.
There was only one truth—no battle without death.
"Damn fat bastard died a good death!"
Sun Buqi cursed under his breath, but there was no joy in his eyes.
His memories of that fat man went all the way back to childhood—running behind Tang Ruoshan, getting scolded for mischief. Tang never pushed him away, even when he skipped training just to climb trees. That man climbed higher than anyone, scaring little Sun so bad he'd wet his pants every time.
Then one day, Tang left with his third brother—and never came back.
Elder sister was right, Sun thought.
It wasn't fair to blame Tang entirely. He had only gone to save his father. If anyone was to blame, it was the Emperor.
"Map."
Chen Sanshi asked, "What's the situation with the pursuing army?"
Zhao Kang quickly replied, "Reporting to my lord—the ambush at the canyon has bought us some time. The civilians ahead have sped up their march. In about two days, they should reach the Hongze River. Once across, they'll enter Huanwen County."
He hesitated.
"But… it's not enough.
"We're about to enter the plains. The barbarian cavalry will catch up soon—there are over twenty thousand of them. They'll likely avoid the mountain path entirely and cut across directly to the civilians' front line.
"They don't intend to leave a single soul alive."
"Twenty thousand…"
Chen Sanshi frowned. After all the skirmishes, he had barely one thousand men left—including Wang Zhi's nephews—and many of them were still half-trained recruits.
"My lord—!"
While Chen Sanshi was deep in thought, a familiar, breathless voice shouted from behind.
It was Xu Wencai, clinging desperately to the back of Zhu Tong's horse, looking like he might fall off at any moment.
"My lord!"
His face was flushed with excitement. "We're saved! Saved!"
"What do you mean, saved?"
Chen Sanshi narrowed his eyes. "Could it be reinforcements?"
"Fifty thousand troops!"
Xu Wencai held up his hand with all five fingers spread. "At the front of the column, a huge army is coming from Huanwen County! They're flying the banner of the Youzhou Garrison, saying they were sent to rescue Yunzhou! They're even questioning the refugees about what's happening back in Yunzhou!"
The Youzhou Garrison troops that Han Cheng mentioned—the ones carrying reserve officers—had arrived early!
"Good. I'll see for myself."
Chen Sanshi immediately spurred his horse forward.
He'd already used every trick, every formation, every strategy he knew.
Even if Han Xin or Zhuge Liang were reborn today, there'd be no plan left—only close combat.
But if fifty thousand reinforcements had truly arrived… then everyone still had a chance to live.
The plains stretched endlessly ahead.
Tens of thousands of civilians trudged forward, carrying bundles on their backs, helping the old and the weak along.
"Da-da-da-da-da—"
The ground began to tremble.
A vast cloud of dust rose on the horizon.
Moments later, ranks upon ranks of cavalry thundered into sight.
The refugees' hearts clenched—they thought the barbarians had caught up already.
But soon they realized—these were not barbarians.
These were Great Sheng Dynasty cavalry!
The banners fluttering high bore a single massive character—"Sheng," symbol of prosperity.
At the head of the army, young generals in shining armor sat astride their mounts, looking proud and fierce.
"Whoa!"
As they neared the refugees, the army slowed. A few riders broke off, approaching the crowd in scattered groups.
"Officers! Sirs!"
The people cheered, faces lighting up with hope.
They eagerly offered what little food they had left. "Sirs, you've traveled hard—please, take some food!"
"There's sesame in this flatbread—I've never eaten anything this good in my life. Please, try some!"
A young officer, about twenty, handsome and imposing, sat tall in his saddle. His expression was cold as he looked down at the rough, worn-out refugees. "Where are you all from?"
"Sir," someone answered quickly, "we were led here by Lord Chen, fleeing from Poyang County in Yunzhou!"
"Poyang? Where's that?"
"It's under Anding Prefecture, I think!"
"County? I'm not asking that." The young general's tone hardened. "What's the situation in Yunzhou?"
"What situation, sir? What do you mean?"
"He means the war," someone said hesitantly. "We don't really know. Just that the barbarians are everywhere."
"They're still behind us!"
"But now that you're here, we're safe!"
The general's eyes flickered with irritation. Getting nothing useful, he clicked his tongue and tugged his reins, turning to find someone else to question.
"Wait, sir—try this dried meat! We took it from the barbarians—it's good!"
"Out of my way." The general didn't even look.
"Please, take it for the road then!"
"Move!"
He scowled, swinging the long shaft of his weapon. It swept across, striking an old man in the chest.
"Pff—"
The frail man coughed blood and collapsed instantly.
"Why'd you hit him?!"
"What was that for?!"
"You… you're not barbarians pretending to be soldiers, are you?!"
"Shut your mouths!"
The officer's expression darkened. He raised his whip and lashed out again—crack!—striking down another gray-haired elder where he stood. Then, flooding his voice with qi and blood, he bellowed,
"You worthless peasants! Do you even realize you're blocking the army's march?
"Get out of the way!
"If you get trampled, it's your fault—but if one of my warhorses trips over your filthy bodies, can you afford to pay for it?!"
Silence fell.
Tens of thousands of refugees froze in place. Nearly one hundred thousand eyes turned toward the mounted officer, the joy and relief on their faces draining away completely.
In that instant, they remembered who they really were—nothing but the lowest of the low.
Scenes of harmony between soldiers and commoners existed only when the army needed them to bleed and die.
Only one man had ever spoken to them differently—Lord Chen Sanshi, who had said, "Those willing may follow the army. We soldiers of Great Sheng will cover your retreat."
"Please, mercy, sir!"
Their voices trembled, and the old, inherited fear—the kind burned into their bones for generations—returned all at once.
None dared approach again.
Like frightened livestock, they scattered to the sides of the road, clearing the path for the oncoming cavalry of the Great Sheng Dynasty—the same banners they had once thought would save them.