"Wng—"
Chen Sanshi swept his spear in a wide arc several times, clearing away the surrounding enemies. Then he drew his bow and aimed directly at the enemy commander—a burly prince and famed general of the Yu Wen tribe.
The bowstring twanged.
The arrow flew.
Gang qi surged like rolling thunder, transforming into the shape of a blazing Vermilion Bird, melting snow as it shot through the veil of wind and ice. In an instant, it crossed a hundred paces and streaked toward the black horse's head.
On horseback, Yu Wen Jingwen stood motionless. In his left palm, true qi condensed into a spinning orb, which he crushed with his fingers. Wisps of true qi flowed into the chains coiled around his fist.
He watched the incoming arrow calmly, until the Vermilion Bird was only inches from his face. The violent wind from its gang qi whipped his hair and beard backward. Then, suddenly, he thrust his hand forward and clamped down on the flaming bird, crushing it to dust.
He narrowed his eyes and looked at the glowing fragments in his palm. "Ghostwood fused with refined black iron—an arrow that can store gang qi and kill an enemy general from several hundred paces away. Your bow… this king will take it."
As he murmured, the white-robed figure loosed several more arrows in rapid succession.
White Tiger Gang Qi, Azure Dragon Gang Qi, Black Tortoise Gang Qi—
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
Each arrow shattered beneath Yu Wen Jingwen's iron fists, scattering into powder.
"The Four Symbols Heavenly Gang," Yu Wen Jingwen said with a hint of admiration. "Even if you possess the Transformative Mysterious Body, capable of adapting to any martial art, it doesn't always evolve into the most perfect form. That means your comprehension is extraordinary. If you ever surpass the Martial Saint realm, my Heavenly Clan will never rise again.
"Pity, though. You're still only at Profound Manifestation."
After catching several more arrows, Yu Wen Jingwen stopped testing. He slowly tugged on the chains around his arms. The massive meteor hammer at the end began to whirl above his head, emitting a deep, droning hum. True qi rippled outward from his body, creating a howling tornado in the blizzard.
One by one, armored soldiers were caught in the swirling storm and torn apart. The white snow turned black with blood and steel dust. When the power reached its limit, Yu Wen Jingwen hurled the meteor hammer.
It fell from the sky like a twisted black dragon.
In an instant, dozens of Hongze Battalion soldiers were crushed into pulp, and the path ahead lay empty.
Yu Wen Jingwen lifted the meteor hammer again—this time aiming straight at the white horse.
But Chen Sanshi had no intention of meeting him head-on. The white-robed general pulled his reins and galloped away, vanishing into the blizzard in the blink of an eye.
"You can't escape."
Yu Wen Jingwen spurred his steed forward.
Beneath him was no ordinary horse—it was the famed warbeast Black Wind.
"Neigh—!"
With a thunderous cry, Black Wind's coiled muscles exploded with power. Its hooves struck the snow like thunderclaps, propelling it forward like a streak of black lightning, chasing the distant white shadow.
"Fourth Uncle!"
From behind, Yu Wenxin cut down an enemy soldier and saw his uncle riding off in pursuit. He wanted to follow, but before he could move, a blade flashed in front of him. He raised his sword just in time to block.
The curved Yanling Blade in Xu Bin's hand slashed down again and again like a hunting snow wolf. "Yu Wen brat! Still remember your uncle?!"
"Get out of my way!"
Yu Wenxin recognized him instantly—his memory was flawless, and he'd seen this face before. Back in Poyang, when he'd been captured, this man had been at Chen Sanshi's side. He hadn't expected that now, this same man was already nearing the Meridian-Connecting stage.
"Generals! Hold him back for me!"
Yu Wenxin tried to break free several times but couldn't shake his pursuer. At last, he called several sub-commanders to assist and slipped away with a small squad. "I'm going to help my uncle kill that white-robed bastard!"
——
Across the vast desert plain, two figures—a black and a white—raced one behind the other.
They were like twin storms tearing through the endless snowfields.
For short bursts, Black Wind's speed surpassed even Deng Feng's Blue Mane horse. Though it couldn't quite catch the White Swan horse, it never fell far behind, always within sight.
"Whoosh—whoosh—"
Yu Wen Jingwen swung his meteor hammer again. The weapon whirled overhead, then smashed forward, crossing more than a hundred paces to strike at the white horse's head.
As he galloped, Chen Sanshi suddenly felt the sky darken.
Above him—
A mountain of iron descended.
Covered in spikes, carrying the qi of destruction, it came crashing down like doomsday itself.
In that instant, time seemed to slow.
Chen Sanshi drew in a deep breath and activated his breathing method, absorbing all the surrounding qi of heaven and earth. He refined it instantly, expelling the useless and drawing in the pure.
Qi flowed through his Eight Extraordinary Meridians, transforming into surging gang qi that reinforced his body, then transferred into the Liquan Spear in his hands.
The weapon trembled violently—and a mighty divine beast took form from the wind and snow.
Black Tortoise—Suppress!
The armored beast, half-dragon, half-serpent, rose roaring into the sky. It collided with the falling iron mountain head-on.
The explosion sounded like rolling thunder, shaking heaven and earth. Snow whirled into a blinding storm.
The Black Tortoise shattered under the crushing weight, but the meteor hammer was also blown backward. Before it could hit the ground, the chain reeled it in, swinging it back to Yu Wen Jingwen's side.
Chen Sanshi had barely managed to block the strike.
The Liquan Spear vibrated violently, the hum resonating through his bones. His Vajra Body trembled as numbness shot up his arm. Even Qianxun, the White Swan horse beneath him, stumbled, plunging knee-deep into the snow.
This was…
The difference between mortal and immortal.
Only after stepping into the Martial Saint realm could one truly transcend the limits of mortal martial arts.
The first realm of true martial transcendence was called Mortal Shedding.
And what was Mortal Shedding?
It was the shedding of one's mortal flesh and bones.
The gap between a Martial Saint and a Profound Manifestation was only one realm—but as vast as heaven and earth.
Even Chen Sanshi's senior brothers and sisters had been stuck at Profound Manifestation for years, unable to break through the bottleneck.
"Qianxun, let's go."
Chen Sanshi swung down from his horse.
Facing an opponent of a higher realm, Chen Sanshi had to focus completely. He couldn't spare a thought for his mount's safety.
On the other hand, the Black Wind horse—whose greatest trait was speed—couldn't withstand its master's immense true qi and overwhelming strength. Once it broke free from Yu Wen Jingwen's control, the beast grew restless and agitated. Feeling provoked, it whinnied furiously and charged off in pursuit of the White Swan horse, soon vanishing into the snowstorm.
"Not bad."
Yu Wen Jingwen's iron chains clinked as he walked, and his braided beard—bound like a whip—fluttered in the icy wind. "At the Profound Manifestation Realm, and you can still block my Meteor Hammer? I'll have to see for myself just how much strength you truly possess!"
"You sure talk too damn much!"
Chen Sanshi stomped down, and the Liquan Spear in his hands transformed into a roaring Azure Dragon.
Yu Wen Jingwen saw only a flash of cold light. The next moment, the white-robed figure was already within seven steps. He swung the chained Meteor Hammer, its tail whipping through the air with a metallic scream.
The chain stretched dozens of zhang long, and the hammer itself weighed over 1,000 jin. It should have been a heavy and cumbersome weapon, but in Yu Wen Jingwen's hands, it moved as lightly as a dagger.
In a blink, it caught up to the darting spear—and struck with a thunderous blow.
"Clang!"
Sparks burst in the snow as metal clashed against metal. The white-robed figure was blasted backward, flipping through the air before landing in the snow. He slid back several steps before regaining balance.
The impact created a wave of pressure, whipping up clouds of ice and snow that completely obscured their vision.
Yu Wen Jingwen closed his eyes and listened. From the sound alone, he judged that the white robe hadn't moved.
Then—something strange.
A ripple of killing intent stirred within the storm.
A flash of violet light shot through the fog!
It was a sword—pure energy condensed into form.
Yu Wen Jingwen frowned. His Meteor Hammer, wrapped in true qi, moved like a living limb and struck it precisely.
The instant they collided, he felt a power far beyond what a Profound Manifestation cultivator should possess. His boots sank deeper into the ground as he reinforced his stance.
A spell.
When the violet sword shattered, it dispersed completely—leaving no trace.
A cultivator's spell!
'So this Chen… is he also a cultivator?'
But Yu Wen Jingwen quickly steadied his mind. The spell's strength wasn't impressive.
"Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz—"
Four more streaks of sword qi shot toward him.
"Good! Come on!"
Yu Wen Jingwen roared and swung his Meteor Hammer again and again, each strike shattering a blade of sword qi. After destroying the fourth, a cold gleam sliced through the snow straight toward him.
"Clang!"
The Meteor Hammer met the White Tiger Killing Qi head-on.
But this time, the Meteor Hammer didn't simply rely on brute force—it twisted and coiled like a dragon-serpent, crushing the White Tiger back and wrapping tightly around it.
It strangled the tiger of qi until it dissolved into nothing.
Chen Sanshi's Liquan Spear groaned under pressure, its shaft and tip bound by the chain. The pull was so strong that it dragged his arms forward.
He stomped down, driving half his legs into the frozen ground. Blood surged violently through his body as his Vajra Body flared layer after layer. He became like an iron stake—immovable, nailed into the earth itself.
When Yu Wen Jingwen realized he couldn't rip the spear free, he moved in for the kill.
His towering frame leapt ten zhang into the air. The Meteor Hammer dangled from his right arm, while his left fist gathered layers of roaring true qi. For a moment, his body seemed to merge with the form of a monstrous bull-headed serpent. Qi condensed around his horns, turning them into mountain-breaking blades of force.
He dove down like a collapsing peak.
As soon as that beast-headed form touched the ground, the white-robed general below would be crushed into pulp.
But at the instant of impact—
Yu Wen Jingwen's eyes widened.
Beneath the snow, the ground trembled and cracked apart. The frozen earth—hardened for over a month by snow and ice—split and rose, condensing before Chen Sanshi into a glowing wall of earth, its surface glimmering with spiritual light.
The bull-serpent struck it head-on.
A deafening boom erupted.
The wind and snow reversed direction, whipping back in a violent surge. The ground beneath them fractured layer by layer.
"Another spell?!"
Yu Wen Jingwen saw the earthen wall begin to crack. He poured more true qi into his fist, determined to end this quickly—smash through the defense, then kill the man behind it.
But each time the Thick Earth Art wall neared collapse, it regenerated, repairing itself instantly. It was tough—resilient, though not indestructible.
Yu Wen Jingwen gathered his true qi once more, wrapping his entire body in protective energy and concentrating it all into his left fist.
The bull-serpent's form solidified, its power surging to twice what it was before. In the roar of qi, one could almost hear the beast itself bellowing.
Finally—
The Thick Earth Art shattered.
The bull-serpent rushed forward, nothing left to stop it.
But just then—
From within the storm of frost and dust, a golden light blazed.
A shining golden blade shot forth, radiant with spiritual power.
A magic weapon!
The bull-serpent twisted and struck the golden blade head-on.
Already weakened from breaking the Thick Earth Art, it didn't stand a chance. Upon contact, it screamed and disintegrated into mist.
Even so, Yu Wen Jingwen didn't back away.
With a furious shout, his qi and blood surged wildly. His muscles swelled and his frame expanded—his already massive form growing even taller. His fur cloak burst apart, revealing bronze-colored muscles bound with snake-like iron chains.
True qi condensed again around his arms. He tightened his grip on the chain, ready to crush the golden blade.
He could feel it—the blade's strength was no greater than the sword qi he'd shattered before.
And indeed, his iron fist, filled with boundless true qi, easily met the flying weapon.
"Clang!"
The crisp ring of metal striking metal echoed through the snow. Sparks scattered like stars.
But just as Yu Wen Jingwen eased his guard, something changed.
Amid the burst of sparks, red flames suddenly erupted across the blade's surface.
The crimson fire glowed fiercely against the white world, so bright it nearly blinded him. In an instant, the heat melted swaths of snow, the air itself shimmering with the blaze.
"This fire?!"
Shock flickered through Yu Wen Jingwen's pupils. Almost instinctively, he jerked back, trying to evade.
Too late.
His fist caught flame.
The eerie, demonic fire spread rapidly, devouring everything in its path.
Pain vanished. The fire burned too fast for nerves to react. Flesh, blood, and even bone turned to ash in seconds.
The flames raced up his arm—past his forearm, then his bicep, then his shoulder—until they began consuming his entire body.
At most—one breath.
Just one breath, and he would be burned alive in that inferno.
"Crack—!"
In that fleeting instant between lightning and flame, Yu Wen Jingwen jerked back the chain, twisting it tight. With brutal decisiveness, he tore his own arm apart at the elbow—severing it completely before the crimson flames could devour him.
"Thud—"
The arm hit the snow and was instantly consumed, turning to ash within moments. The ice and snow around it melted into a puddle several feet wide, dyed red as blood dripped steadily from the severed limb.
"Big Brother, let me lend you a hand!"
From a nearby slope, a cloaked figure finally appeared—it was Cao Zhi. His hands moved in a rapid seal, spiritual light flashing as mana surged.
Beneath Yu Wen Jingwen's feet, the snow that had only just melted froze again, transforming into serpents of frost that coiled around his legs, locking him in place.
In the distance, two hundred paces away, the white-robed figure had already escaped the immediate chaos. A torch burned at his side, and in his hands was a massive iron-bellied bow.
Flames roared to life. From the red blaze, Vermilion Birds took form—each like a miniature sun, shrieking across the sky toward him.
That flame again! That unnatural, terrifying fire!
With a roar, Yu Wen Jingwen burst his true qi outward, shattering the ice serpents that bound him. He swung his Meteor Hammer in fury, its chain whistling through the snowstorm as it smashed toward the imperial prince's position.
"Crack!"
Cao Zhi hastily conjured a defensive barrier in front of himself.
But compared to the Thick Earth Art, it was as fragile as paper. It shattered instantly beneath the hammer's might. The impact sent him flying hundreds of zhang away before he crashed into the snow, vanishing from sight—whether dead or alive, no one knew.
Yu Wen Jingwen turned just in time to see the blazing Vermilion Birds descending. He prepared to dodge—but to his shock, the arrows followed him. They moved with his motion, impossible to evade.
His fury exploded. He bellowed like a raging bull-serpent, eyes blazing red. He charged forward, swinging his Meteor Hammer, each strike tearing through the fiery arrows that sought his life.
The flames were horrifyingly strong—each time the hammer made contact, it melted a deep dent into the metal.
But that was all.
No fire, no matter how fierce, could burn pure iron into ash.
In the blink of an eye, Yu Wen Jingwen broke through the barrage. He charged into striking range, the Meteor Hammer spiraling like a dragon-serpent through the blizzard before plunging down from above.
He saw only one thing before the world turned white—Chen Sanshi raising his great bow high to block. Then, the storm swallowed everything.
A single snapped bowstring cut through the roar. The broken iron-bellied bow spun through the air and fell, half-buried in the distant snow.
When the snow fog cleared, the white-robed figure knelt on one knee. His long spear was stabbed into the ground for support, blood running from the corner of his mouth.
He looked wounded, barely standing.
"What a strange flame…" Yu Wen Jingwen muttered under his breath, still shaken. He stared at the ruined bow half-buried in the snow. "So this is your trump card? Hmph… no wonder a mere Profound Manifestation dares to attack the Agate River. You relied on that cursed fire!"
He recalled something then.
Long ago, the barbarian tribes had lost a celestial treasure near Poyang County—and this man, Chen, hailed from Poyang.
Could this so-called strange flame be that very lost treasure?
"Enough!"
Though he spoke, Yu Wen Jingwen's hands didn't slow. He pulled the chain taut again, advancing step by step through the snowstorm. The Meteor Hammer rose into the air once more, ready to strike.
"Since your cards are spent, stop struggling and die obediently!"
"Trump cards?"
Amid the endless snow, the white-robed general straightened slowly. He gripped his long spear and drew it from the ground, his calm voice echoing like iron:
"You're wrong. Spells are not my trump card. The strange flame—also not."
He paused.
"My only trump card… has always been myself."
"Clang—!"
The Mountain-Suppressing Sword was drawn!
The Liquan Spear shone bright!
One sword and one spear—one dragon, one tiger.
In the raging blizzard, they clashed once more with the Martial Saint.
"The Mountain-Suppressing Sword? Then return it to me!"
Yu Wen Jingwen, even with one arm gone, showed no sign of weakness. His Meteor Hammer still fell like thunder, each blow shaking the earth for hundreds of feet around.
Chen Sanshi's spear and sword struck back in alternating rhythm—meeting blow for blow.
Every strike drove him backward.
Every strike worsened his wounds.
But every strike—he endured.
And that was enough.
"Clang! Clang! Clang!"
The sound of weapons colliding rang across the frozen plains of the Agate River—like a forge where gods were hammering steel.
Hundreds of steps away, Cao Zhi slowly regained consciousness. Blood covered his face and streamed from every orifice. The armor on his chest was shattered, exposing a layer of gold-threaded soft mail beneath. That, along with his defensive spell, had barely saved his life from a Martial Saint's strike.
He'd followed the Hongze Battalion instead of the Black Turtle Battalion for one reason—he was gambling.
Cao Zhi had bet everything that Chen Sanshi would win.
If he did, not only would it count toward Cao Zhi's own military merit, but surviving such a battle would forge a bond in blood and fire—a bond with the White-Robed General himself.
That was why he'd risked his life just moments ago to intervene.
Even if his help had been worthless.
Still…
That "big brother" of his truly hid too many surprises—spells, strange fire, and weapons beyond imagination.
But even so…
He wasn't the stronger one here.
Yu Wen Jingwen's reputation was well-earned. He was indeed the mightiest warrior of the Yu Wen tribe.
Even among Martial Saints, there were great divides in strength. And Yu Wen Jingwen—he stood at the very top.
It seemed…
He had lost his gamble.
But that didn't matter.
Every gamble came with risk.
Cao Zhi still had an escape talisman hidden on him. As long as he kept his life, everything else could be rebuilt.
He swallowed several healing pills to stabilize his injuries, then crawled from the snow. He meant to retreat while he could—but then he heard the sound again.
"Dang! Dang! Dang!"
The rhythmic ringing of iron on iron.
"They're still fighting?"
"He's… still holding on?!"
That was a Martial Saint!
On the martial path, that was a transformation—a leap so vast it could be called the divide between mortal and immortal.
"Cough… cough…"
Using his sword as a crutch, Cao Zhi stumbled forward, step by step, following the echo of clashing steel until he reached a ridge. He crawled up and peered over the edge—looking down upon the battlefield below.
The battle still raged on.
One man in white robes, wielding both spear and sword. The other bare-chested, swinging a massive Meteor Hammer.
No one could tell how long they had been fighting.
All that could be seen was this—Chen Sanshi was clearly at a disadvantage, fighting with grit and endurance, while the one-armed Yu Wen Jingwen seemed to have the upper hand, yet was unable to land a decisive blow.
A martial cultivator at the Profound Manifestation Realm—and he could still fight a Martial Saint this long?!
Cao Zhi, who had been planning to flee, hesitated. He stopped. He wanted to see it through.
"Still not dead?!"
Yu Wen Jingwen's arm and chain had long blurred into afterimages. His bloodshot eyes saw nothing but his opponent—no snow, no wind, no world, just Chen Sanshi. He had gone beyond his limits, fighting with every ounce of strength, even burning his life force.
But still…
The white-robed man refused to die.
No matter how deadly the strike or cunning the tactic, every time Yu Wen Jingwen came within reach of victory, he fell short by just an inch—an inch that might as well have been a chasm he could never cross.
A Martial Saint could feel pain, could be wounded.
Earlier, he had ignored the agony of his severed arm through sheer physical toughness, but time wore on. The bleeding never stopped. The pain grew unbearable, and the loss of blood began to drag him down.
"Ahhhh!"
His roar shook the mountains. The Meteor Hammer whirled even faster, the clashing of metal on metal merging into a single continuous roar.
"Profound Manifestation! You're just a Profound Manifestation cultivator! How long can you possibly hold out against me?! I'll see how much longer you can last!"
"How long I can last?"
Chen Sanshi, blood soaking his white robes, showed not a hint of fatigue. His voice was calm, almost casual. "You know, everyone who's ever said that to me… is already dead."
"Bullshit!"
After ten more rounds, Yu Wen Jingwen's expression finally changed.
He realized with dawning horror—his hammer techniques had been completely read.
Chen Sanshi moved as if he could predict the future. Every strike of the Meteor Hammer was countered before it landed, deflected with just the right amount of force. The man who had seemed cornered moments ago was now fighting freely, effortlessly.
"Impossible… ridiculous!"
Yu Wen Jingwen's composure shattered. His steady heart turned chaotic.
Because his true qi—was almost gone!
He looked across at a single man.
Yet the amount of qi he had spent could have slain thousands of soldiers.
This one man alone… was worth an entire army!
"No… impossible!"
"Even if it costs me my life, even if I die here, I'll drag you to hell with me! I swear—you'll never leave the Agate River alive!"
If the Hongze Battalion didn't perish here, nothing would stop their advance.
They would march straight into the barbarian capital—then to Wolf Juxu Mountain, where the Blood Sacrifice Formation's Core awaited.
Thinking this, Yu Wen Jingwen went berserk, unleashing the fury of a beast. He burned his foundation, sacrificing cultivation and risking a drop in realm, just to raise his strength one last time.
Finally—he sensed weakness.
Yes, the white-robed man's qi seemed to falter.
That's how it should be.
No one could fight forever.
Even someone who could face an army alone must have limits.
Yet, just as Yu Wen Jingwen readied his final blow—he saw it.
The aura within Chen Sanshi suddenly flared again, like a tide rising from the depths of the earth. His presence grew stronger—steadier—almost reborn.
Mysterious Five-Organs Body — Endless Vitality, Ever-Flowing Power!
At that instant, Chen Sanshi unleashed the full depth of his foundation.
The Blood of the Dragon and Elephant surged through his body. His Xuan Yuan Five Organs worked in perfect harmony, supported by ten times the number of opened meridians any normal cultivator at his realm could possess. His qi replenished itself at a terrifying pace.
Before the battle, he had even swallowed a Fasting Pill to maintain his vitality.
In his dictionary—there was no such thing as exhaustion.
No matter how many enemies there were, no matter how strong, if they couldn't kill him outright—then he would always rise again.
Watching this in disbelief, Yu Wen Jingwen felt the last breath of strength drain from his body.
He could only watch as Chen Sanshi shifted from defense to offense.
From steady resistance—to unrelenting assault.
He went from barely holding on, to pressing forward.
Then Yu Wen Jingwen stumbled—his defense faltered. His body lagged behind his intent.
He had reached his limit.
This battle—
Yu Wen Jingwen's full strength, unleashed to its extreme, would have been enough to slaughter five thousand soldiers alone. He could have broken an entire army.
But his opponent was only a Profound Manifestation Realm cultivator.
And yet…
He lost.
He, a Martial Saint—defeated by one beneath that realm.
It was unthinkable.
A disgrace.
A humiliation not only for himself, not only for the Yu Wen clan, but for every Martial Saint under heaven.
"Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!"
"Boom—!"
An opening appeared.
The Meteor Hammer was struck away, the chain coiling helplessly around the spear.
But this time—
It wasn't the chain binding the spear.
It was the spear pulling the chain.
"Roar—!"
The Mountain-Suppressing Sword flashed cold light, manifesting a white tiger that lunged straight for Yu Wen Jingwen.
By instinct, he raised his left arm to block—only to feel nothing but empty air and freezing pain. He had no arm left to raise.
The sword cut through flesh and bone, slicing across his throat, through his spine, and out beneath his eyes.
Everything went silent.
Then, with a dull thud, Yu Wen Jingwen's head slid from his shoulders.
Blood gushed from the neck like a fountain, painting the snow red and drenching the white robe of his killer in crimson.
"Boom—"
The giant's body collapsed.
The slaughter—finally ended.
Chen Sanshi could no longer hold himself upright. He quickly took out a handful of healing pills and shoved them all into his mouth, swallowing them in one breath.
This battle had wrung every last drop of strength from him.
The Golden Blade—coated beforehand with lamp oil—had burned itself out and was now nothing but scrap.
The Iron-Bellied Bow had snapped its string.
And his body was battered and bruised, though thankfully not fatally. With time, he could recover on the road.
One thing was clear—
The gap between a Martial Saint and an ordinary martial artist was terrifyingly vast.
But then again, Chen Sanshi was no ordinary martial artist.
He had once crossed blows briefly with Wen Zhi at the Splitting Moon Manor, and had witnessed firsthand the power of a Martial Saint. That was why he dared to lead his troops into this fight in the first place—not out of blind courage, but cold calculation.
Of course, Yu Wen Jingwen was far stronger than Wen Zhi had ever been.
"Fourth Uncle—!"
The Ninth Prince, Yu Wen Xin, galloped up to the battlefield, only to see his uncle's headless corpse lying in the snow—and Chen Sanshi, covered in blood, sitting cross-legged nearby.
Impossible.
His Fourth Uncle—the mightiest warrior of the Yu Wen clan—how could he… die like this?!
And not just die—but die at the hands of a Profound Manifestation cultivator?!
Yu Wen Xin froze in horror, then rage overtook him. He drew his sword and charged forward.
Halfway there—Chen Sanshi opened his eyes.
The Ninth Prince stopped dead. He didn't dare take another step.
"I—I'll fight you! I'll avenge my uncle! Come on! Come here!"
"It's you," Chen Sanshi said calmly, recognizing him. "Your Highness, still watching the show?"
As his voice fell, the snow beneath Yu Wen Xin's feet twisted and hardened into chains, locking around his legs and holding him in place.
From behind, Cao Zhi—who had finally recovered—stumbled down the slope, his face pale with disbelief. "I never imagined Big Brother's martial skill was this terrifying. A Profound Manifestation… slaying a Martial Saint! Such a thing has never happened in all of history!"
Then he glanced at the prince. "Your Highness isn't bad either—you've learned spellcraft. Was that perhaps bestowed by His Majesty?"
Chen Sanshi's gaze flickered slightly. His tone was mild, but his meaning sharp.
This prince… clearly had deep ties with Seeking Immortals Tower.
He hadn't wanted to reveal his use of spells or strange fire, but with Yu Wen Xin shadowing him—and likely carrying hidden life-saving talismans—killing him now to silence him would be difficult and risky.
Fortunately, Chen Sanshi also knew the prince's secret. If either of them spoke, both would suffer.
They each held a blade to the other's throat—so neither would dare to strike.
There were more pressing matters to deal with anyway.
The main battlefield.
They had to wipe out the fifty thousand barbarian soldiers before reinforcements arrived. Once done, they needed to withdraw immediately. If they lingered, endless enemy forces would swarm upon them.
After regaining a bit of strength, Chen Sanshi packed up everything worth keeping.
Qianxun, his white horse, returned on its own. The Black Wind horse, now tamed, followed obediently behind.
It seemed even their mounts had fought their own battle—and won.
At the Agate River, the frontlines were chaos.
The warriors of the Yu Wen Tribe still held the advantage in numbers.
But the soldiers of the Hongze Battalion did not fear death at all.
They fought like war puppets without emotion. Even as their comrades fell, others stepped up instantly to fill the gaps, keeping the formation unbroken.
That kind of killing aura…
Was enough to freeze the blood of any barbarian warrior.
The enemy's morale began to waver.
"Don't panic!" roared the barbarian general amid the confusion, trying to steady his troops. "They can't last much longer! That white-robed Chen Sanshi has already fled!"
"Yeah, look! Their commander's run off!"
"Why fight anymore? Drop your weapons and join the Heavenly Tribe! You'll live as second-class men!"
"General Chen…"
Covered in blood, Chu Shixiong's heart sank cold.
He had seen it himself—Yu Wen Jingwen chasing after Chen Sanshi—and it had already been the time of one stick of incense.
A Martial Saint hunting down a Profound Manifestation.
The result… did not need to be said.
With General Chen dead, their morale would collapse. And once that happened, they'd all be slaughtered.
Just as despair began to settle over the field—
A thunderous voice boomed through the snow and wind:
"Yu Wen Jingwen is dead!"
"Surrender now—or die!"
Yu Wen Jingwen—dead?!
"Lies!" snarled the barbarian general. "Who dares spout nonsense before me?! I'll take your head myself!"
Before he could act, a white horse galloped onto a nearby ridge.
There, overlooking the entire battlefield, stood a man in a blood-soaked white robe. He raised his spear high—on its tip hung a severed head.
It was unmistakable—Prince Yu Wen Jingwen, the Fourth Lord of the Yu Wen Clan.
"The Ninth Prince, Yu Wen Xin, is here as well!"
Cao Zhi stepped forward, dragging the captured prince by the arm. "Your forces are finished. Why keep struggling?"
In that instant, it was as though twin bolts of lightning struck the hearts of every barbarian soldier.
"The Prince…"
"It's the Prince!"
"Prince Yu Wen Jingwen is dead!"
"Chen Sanshi killed the Prince!"
"The white robe killed the Prince!"
"He must have advanced to Martial Saint!"
The claim was absurd, but easier to believe than the truth—that a Profound Manifestation cultivator had killed a Martial Saint.
Still, the sight of their slain leader—and the unyielding slaughter of the Hongze troops—broke them completely. Terror spread through their ranks like wildfire.
"This…"
Chu Shixiong stood frozen, his shock no less than the barbarians'.
He knew better than anyone—Chen Sanshi was only a Profound Manifestation Great Perfection cultivator!
And yet he had killed a Martial Saint.
"Normal," said one of the Poyang brothers coolly.
"Yeah, what's the big deal? Just another dead Martial Saint."
"General Chu," another added, smirking faintly, "you'll get used to it."
Xu Bin wiped the blood from his Wild Goose Feather Blade with the armor guard on his wrist and said coldly, "Now, do you still doubt our commander?!"
Chu Shixiong stood frozen, unable to believe what he had just witnessed.
"Retreat! Pull back!"
"Fall back! Regroup at the main camp!"
The barbarian general tried to rally his men.
"The main camp? The main camp's already fallen!"
"What?! When?!"
"Right after the battle began—the enemy overran it! The Prince ordered us to keep quiet about it!"
"That's impossible!"
But when the retreating army reached within a few li of the main camp, they saw it clearly—inside and out, the entire camp was covered in Dasheng banners. At the highest point, a massive golden "Chen" character fluttered proudly in the cold wind.
The gates stood wide open.
From within, dense ranks of Dasheng cavalry thundered out, too many to count.
At that moment, every barbarian soldier understood only one thing:
Their commander was dead. The enemy had a Martial Saint.
And they were trapped—caught between the front and rear with nowhere to run.
A rout.
A complete, crushing rout unfolded on the frozen banks of the Agate River.
In contrast, the soldiers of the Hongze Battalion, seeing their general return to the field—holding the severed head of Yu Wen Jingwen high—felt their morale ignite like wildfire. Their shouts shook heaven and earth. Nothing could stop them now.
From that point on, it was a one-sided massacre.
Once an army loses the will to fight, it becomes weaker than pigs or dogs. No matter how strong the body, without spirit, all that awaits is slaughter.
The killing began at dawn—and lasted until dusk.
By the time the sun set, the Agate River was lined with corpses as far as the eye could see.
In the end, half the barbarian army managed to flee. The rest—completely annihilated.
When the battlefield was finally cleared, darkness had already fallen.
"Report to the Commander!"
Xia Cong stepped forward, cupping his fists. "After the count, our forces have killed over twenty thousand (20,000) enemy soldiers. Our own losses—two thousand (2,000)."
Two thousand dead.
A ten-to-one kill ratio.
Undeniably, a total and decisive victory.
Yet Chen Sanshi showed no joy.
He remembered every name.
When he had reviewed the military rosters before the campaign, he'd memorized each man's family—who had a wife, a child, an aging father waiting at home.
Now, some of those names would never answer roll call again.
That night, the Hongze Battalion, exhausted to the limit, rested within the Agate River fortress.
Inside the camp, freshly slaughtered lambs roasted over open flames, and jars of steppe-fermented mare's milk wine were passed around.
Outside, endless snow fell across a landscape of frozen corpses.
Qianxun stood by the river, leading the warhorses as they lowered their heads to drink from the icy current.
Everything was orderly.
But also… unbearably silent.
No cheering. No celebration.
Even the veterans' faces were heavy and blank, the kind of numbness that comes only after too much killing.
"Brothers!"
Chen Sanshi stood by the riverbank, holding a bowl of wine, his voice cutting through the cold night like steel striking stone.
"For thousands of years, the barbarian tribes have never stopped hungering for our destruction!"
"How many of you joined the army because your families were trampled beneath their iron hooves? How many of your fathers fell fighting them on the battlefield?"
He raised his voice, the words rolling like thunder.
"Now those same tribes have joined forces with monsters from across the sea—they want to turn our Liangzhou into their furnace, and us into their fuel!"
"Their crimes cannot be forgiven. Their sins cannot be tolerated!"
"For too long, they've relied on the vastness of the desert—retreating into its emptiness to recover after every defeat, only to come back again and again."
"But today…"
"I have something to say!"
"If the enemy can come to us—then we can go to them!"
"Cross this Agate River!"
"And within thirty days, we will reach the southern foothills of Yin Mountain!"
"There lies the barbarian capital—their sacred Wolf Juxu Mountain, and the great khans of their four tribes!"
"There… we will fight our final battle!"
"I, Chen Sanshi, give you my word!"
"After this battle, the barbarian tribes will never again invade our borders or harm our people!"
"From this day forth, south of Yin Mountain, no barbarian tribe shall remain!"
"Drink this wine!"
"Then we march for Wolf Juxu Mountain!"
"We'll tear the barbarians apart—until even their ghosts tremble!"
"Kill!"
"Kill!"
Under the dark desert sky, thirteen thousand (13,000) soldiers raised their bowls, downed the fiery liquor, and smashed their clay cups upon the ground.
"Form up!"
"March out!"
The drums of war thundered—dong, dong, dong—rolling through the night like the heartbeat of the desert itself.
Before the next dawn, before reinforcements or Martial Saints from the barbarian side could arrive, the Hongze Battalion had already crossed the Agate River fortress, vanishing deep into the vast desert.
Above them, a blue bird sliced through layers of wind and snow, flying in the opposite direction—back toward Liangzhou.
Clutched in its talons, frozen solid like an ice sculpture, hung the severed head of Yu Wen Jingwen.