The vast white desert stretched endlessly beneath the bleak sky.
On the frozen Agate River, the soldiers of the Hongze Battalion were busy using materials they had gathered from various barbarian tribes to build a floating bridge. It was a crude structure—hurriedly assembled, narrow, and fragile—barely wide enough for one man to cross at a time.
Once the army began crossing, they would surely be discovered. By then, retreating would be impossible. The enemy would simply watch and strike while they crossed.
So, after crossing the river, there would be only two outcomes—victory or death.
There was no retreat.
And they—fifteen thousand men—were about to face the encirclement of one hundred thousand enemies. They would have to storm the fortress ahead, guarded by a Martial Saint, resupply, and then march north without pause.
Any master of warfare, seeing such odds, would have said the same thing: this was an impossible mission.
——
At the Agate River, within the barbarian fortress.
"Report—!"
"Your Highness!"
The scout knelt and shouted, "After taking Fengshuang City, the Hongze Battalion advanced north and slaughtered five tribes in succession. Their momentum is terrifying! They've now reached the Agate River, and by the time we discovered them, they were nearly finished crossing!"
"They're here at last, Fourth Uncle!"
The Ninth Prince, Yu Wenxin, was trembling with excitement and tension. Sweat drenched his palm as he gripped his sword. "No matter what happens, I am Chen Sanshi's lifelong enemy!
"Back then, he was just a nameless soldier—and I was his first opponent!
"Now he's famous across the world, yet I'm still the one standing in his way!
"I, Yu Wenxin, am his destined rival!"
"Good!"
Yu Wen Jingwen's deep voice rumbled like thunder. "That's the spirit I want to see! Send the order—full alert across the camp! If the Hongze Battalion dares to cross this river, not one of them leaves alive!"
——
Meanwhile, in Liangzhou.
"Rumble—!"
The Blood Sacrifice Array accelerated violently.
From the black vortex above, waves of crimson mist erupted, blotting out the entire sky.
And then—
The heavens collapsed.
No exaggeration—everyone could see it happening. The sky seemed to sink lower and lower, the distance between the blood mist and the ground shrinking rapidly, as if at any moment, the crimson tide would crash down and devour the world.
"Da-da-da—"
Birds flying overhead brushed against the mist, only to fall from the air. When they hit the ground, they dissolved into pools of blood before horrified onlookers.
"Heaven's wrath!"
"Is this... Heaven's punishment?!"
"Oh, Heaven, have mercy!"
"Don't panic!" someone shouted.
"There's no Heaven's wrath! It's the Witch God Sect's monsters stirring trouble again!"
"Our Liangzhou Army is right outside the city, working to save everyone!"
Those soldiers trapped inside the city had no way out, so they had to maintain order among the terrified civilians.
"Monsters?!"
"The Witch God Sect's monsters can cover the whole sky?!"
The more they tried to calm people, the worse the panic grew.
"I said don't panic!"
"The army outside will save us!"
"You, sir—if all the troops are trapped in the city, which generals are outside?"
"General Lü Ji, and General Chen Sanshi!"
"General Chen is outside?!"
At that, the crowd's fear began to ease.
"We're saved!"
"We're not doomed yet!"
"Lord Chen will definitely save us!"
"Yes, yes! We believe in him!"
A deputy general frowned and stopped a villager. "Strange… why do you only mention General Chen? What about General Lü Ji—don't you trust his courage?"
"Who doesn't know General Lü is brave?!" the man replied. "But what's that got to do with us?"
——
Inside the Grand Marshal's Mansion, chaos reigned.
"What do we do now?!"
Sun Buqi paced back and forth, anxiety written across his face.
Who could've imagined that a promising northern campaign would turn into this mess?
"Even Father's trapped now!" he said, wringing his hands. "Everything depends on Senior Brother and Sanshi… but I heard Sanshi didn't go to Youzhou—he went north into the wasteland instead! If something happens to him, won't my sister become a widow before she's even married?"
"Young Master, mind your tongue!"
The butler rolled up his sleeves, ready to smack him. Though called a butler, he was one of Sun Xiangzong's earliest comrades-in-arms.
Inside the adjoining room, Sun Li sat by the window, staring at the blood-red clouds above. The crimson reflection stained her face and eyes, hiding her true expression.
"Second Auntie," a little girl's voice asked, "why did the clouds turn red?"
Chen Yunxi huddled beside her. "People outside are saying… monsters are coming to eat us."
"Don't be afraid, Xixi."
Sun Li gently squeezed the girl's hand. "Your father will come for us soon. Wait—what did you just call me?"
"Second Auntie."
Chen Yunxi's answer was soft but firm.
——
At the Great Wall.
"Well?"
"Have the messages been sent out?"
"They have, Your Highness! We've warned them—the Agate River is heavily guarded. Under no circumstances should they go near it!"
"I hope Chen Sanshi realizes in time…"
Cao Huan paced anxiously, finally collapsing into a chair, exhausted. "If he turns around now, he can still reach Youzhou in time to join the battle. Otherwise, there'll be no way back."
"By my calculations," Cheng Wei said, tapping his abacus carefully, "General Lü Ji should have reached Youzhou already. If General Chen turns back now, it'll only delay him about twenty days. Still manageable."
"Good. Then—"
"Report!"
A galloping horse stopped outside the command tent.
"Your Highness, bad news!"
"The reply from General Chen has arrived!"
"What did he say?"
"They haven't turned back—instead, they've accelerated their crossing! He says they'll fight with their backs to the river, and he'll bring you Yu Wen Jingwen's head, carried by the divine eagle itself!"
"What? Didn't I already tell him the barbarian army is gathering at the Agate River? A battle with one's back to the water—has he gone mad?"
Cao Huan's face was dark with anger. Chen Sanshi's disobedience had already tested his patience, and now that all his attempts to persuade him had failed, rage welled up in his chest. He jabbed his finger at the map, the spot marking the Agate River shaking under his touch. "That river is wide! Once he crosses, there's no turning back. I'm trying to save him—how can he not see that?"
No matter what, Chen Sanshi was one of the Great Sheng Dynasty's most valuable "assets."
Cao Huan couldn't bear to see him die. His anger came not from pride, but from genuine fear of losing someone that important.
"'A battle with no retreat'…"
Zhao Wuji muttered under his breath, "Based on his past record, General Chen likes to build momentum before striking. I understand his reasoning—but this time, it's different.
"When you put your back to the river, it's the fight of a trapped beast. Sure, it might ignite morale for a moment, but the enemy has a Martial Saint. If the battle turns even slightly against them, the river stops being a source of resolve—it becomes the last straw that breaks them. They'll realize there's no escape and collapse completely. Some might even surrender outright."
To find life in the face of death—it was an old saying.
Easy to speak, almost poetic. But only those who had truly led men in battle knew how impossible it was. When men face absolute despair, most don't rise to fight—they crumble. Many didn't just lose courage—they lost control of their bladders.
The Battle of Hulao Pass had been the clearest proof of that.
"As the saying goes, 'You can't reason with a ghost that's already set on dying.'"
An old general sighed. "If he can't be stopped, then let him go."
"Yes," Cao Huan exhaled heavily, setting down the letter. "Let's just hope General Lü Ji won't let us down."
——
Youzhou.
After a grueling journey, Lü Ji finally led his troops into the province.
From afar, the endless stretch of the Great Wall came into view—except for a massive gap carved into it, thousands of li long. It looked like a colossal dragon-serpent had been bitten clean through by some monstrous beast.
Within that breach were thousands of barbarian soldiers, holding their post.
"Boss!"
Nie Yuan rode up quickly. "We scouted ahead—there are 5,000 barbarian troops at the gap, 50,000 more garrisoned at Li City, and 100,000 camped near Zhu Tuo Pass.
"Once we break through this section of the wall, we'll be inside Youzhou's borders.
"Should I send a few dozen light cavalry ahead to test their defenses?"
"No need."
Lü Ji gripped his Fangtian halberd, his gaze locked on the distant breach. His eyes were sharp as blades. "Pass my order—bring 1,000 men from the White Tiger Battalion, the assault unit. We're charging straight through."
"Yes, sir!"
Nie Yuan galloped off to arrange it.
The two had fought side by side for years. Their rhythm was perfect.
It was always the same tactic.
When they encountered an enemy, Lü Ji would lead a small force straight into the enemy's ranks. If he broke through, the main army would follow and crush them completely. If it turned out to be an ambush, they'd only lose around 1,000 men—Lü Ji could always fight his way out, while Nie Yuan held the line in reserve.
Most times, though, Lü Ji's 1,000 assault troops tore into the enemy ranks like a blazing spear, shattering morale instantly. Then the rest of the army would flood in behind him, unstoppable.
That was Lü Ji's way of war—pure, overwhelming aggression. He led through raw courage and brutal slaughter, terrifying the enemy into collapse before the real fight even began.
Today was no different.
"Dong! Dong! Dong——"
"Neigh—!"
His crimson steed roared, hooves pounding like drums, its mane blazing red as fire, smoke rising from its breath.
On horseback, clad in scarlet lacquered armor, Lü Ji's halberd dragged behind him, carving deep furrows into the frozen ground.
Man and horse—like a mountain god descending from the heavens—charged straight into the enemy camp.
"Enemy attack!"
"It's Lü Ji!"
The barbarian general guarding the gap instantly recognized him. "Go! Inform the Prince and the Immortal Master—Lü Ji is here! Everyone else, form ranks! Stop him! Hold him back!"
But it was useless.
Iron caltrops, wooden stakes—none of it could stop the flaming stallion. Against Lü Ji's Fangtian halberd, all fortifications were paper-thin, ripped apart in seconds.
"Ahhh!"
Seeing the enemy breaking through, the barbarian general roared, charging forward with a horse-slaying blade raised high.
He didn't even survive a single strike.
One sweep of Lü Ji's halberd reduced both man and horse to a heap of bloody pulp.
With their commander dead, the defenders disintegrated instantly.
Lü Ji entered a killing frenzy, cleaving through the camp like a storm. His 1,000 assault troops slaughtered 5,000 barbarian soldiers—armor and weapons scattered like leaves.
Within half an hour, the Black Turtle Battalion and White Tiger Battalion had both broken through into Youzhou territory, joining forces with Xu Wencai and others in a nearby small city.
"General Lü, we've been waiting for you!"
Fan Hailing was ecstatic, his relief plain as he clasped Lü Ji's hand.
"Yes, General!"
Pei Tiannan stepped forward, face bright with renewed hope. "Over the past few days, reinforcements have arrived one after another. Now, including the Black Turtle and White Tiger Battalions, we have nearly 80,000 troops and three Martial Saints. We might actually stand a chance!"
"It's a pity the Hongze Battalion didn't make it."
Fan Hailing sighed. "If they had, our numbers would've been close to 100,000—almost even with the barbarians. The odds would've been far better. But now…"
"General Lü," Xu Wencai said, fanning himself calmly, "what's the situation at the Agate River?"
"I just received word."
Lü Ji pointed to the map with his bloodstained finger. "Yu Wen Jingwen has gathered nearly 100,000 troops from all nearby tribes to encircle and block them. Once the Hongze Battalion crosses the Agate River, it'll be a dead end."
Lü Ji's style had always been one of domination—but never recklessness. Every charge he made was calculated. He weighed the cost, the gain, and the fallout before committing to a decisive strike that broke the enemy's will.
Charging blindly wasn't true dominance—it was stupidity.
Real dominance was controlled brutality—fierce yet measured, always unbeaten. That was why Lü Ji's name struck fear across the battlefield.
In his judgment, the northern route through the wasteland was long and perilous, guarded by both a Martial Saint and countless troops. Either path was difficult—but this one was faster.
True, destroying the main formation core would save everyone. The secondary nodes, however, might not allow them to evacuate all in time.
But life always demanded choices.
"Yu Wen Jingwen—he's skilled with the meteor hammer, a renowned general of the Yu Wen clan, known for both courage and steadiness. And he's also a Martial Saint. With so many troops under him, no matter how you calculate it, General Chen has no chance of leaving the Agate River alive."
Pei Tiannan frowned. "Has anyone sent word to General Chen, warning him of this? If he turns back now, he might not make it in time to attack Li City, but at least he could regroup with us for the final battle at Zhu Tuo Pass."
"His Highness and I," Lü Ji said after a pause, "have both sent him multiple letters."
He exhaled slowly. "But General Chen insists on his own plan."
"Tsk, what a pity," Fan Hailing muttered.
To them, the loss of fifteen thousand men wasn't the true tragedy—it was losing someone like Chen Sanshi, a young commander whose future was bright, that stung the most.
"Enough about that," Xu Wencai interrupted. "Let's talk strategy—how do we take Li City quickly and move on to attack Zhu Tuo Pass? The Blood Sacrifice Formation is growing stronger by the hour."
——
The Great Sheng Dynasty, Imperial Capital.
In the quiet imperial study, sandalwood incense coiled upward, the air calm and serene.
Behind the silk curtains, the Empress sat gracefully, her fingers unstained by ink. With a light wave of her crimson-painted nails, the memorial scrolls before her turned pages and were annotated automatically.
Even with the aid of magic, the endless mountain of documents still took her four hours—from morning until dusk—and there were still many left unfinished.
"Auntie… Auntie…"
A soft, babyish voice sounded from the corner.
"Don't make noise. Hm… hm. I said, don't make noise."
"Waaah—waaah—waaah—waaah—!"
The infant in the cradle suddenly burst into loud wails.
The Empress sighed, irritation flickering in her eyes. She tapped her slender finger once.
A flicker of spiritual light fell upon the cradle, which began rocking itself gently.
"Elder Sister, this mortal child is hungry again."
The Empress looked around. "Elder Sister?"
No one replied.
"Attend me. Watch over the Crown Prince."
Leaving that brief order, the Empress rose from her desk and strode toward the inner hall, her robes sweeping softly across the polished jade floor.
The moment she left, the baby began crying again, louder this time.
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
Two palace maids rushed in, flustered. They shook rattles, pulled faces, tried every trick they knew to calm the child.
"Your Highness the Crown Prince, please, don't cry anymore," one pleaded. "If Her Majesty comes back and sees this, she'll punish us!"
"Hey," whispered Ling'er, "who do you think the father is?"
Ever since the Battle of Hulao Pass, their Great Sheng Empress had gone on a mysterious journey. When she returned, she brought with her a woman—and this child.
Her Majesty said the child was her own, and the woman was the child's aunt.
But no one knew who the father was.
"Watch your tongue," warned Chun'er, the other maid. "Do your duty, or you'll lose your head."
——
In the deepest part of the palace, one door stood slightly ajar.
Gu Xinlan, dressed in elegant robes, stood there, her fair neck gleaming under the lantern light. She stared toward the distant sky, where a faint red glow shimmered above the horizon. Worry furrowed her brows as her delicate hands clasped tightly together.
"Elder Sister?"
The Empress's cold voice carried a note of displeasure. "Didn't I tell you to study court affairs with me today?"
"Guiyi, you're just in time. Look!"
Gu Xinlan grabbed her younger sister's hand and pointed westward. "Isn't that the direction of Liangzhou? What's going on there? Why is the whole sky red?"
She had suspected trouble before leaving, but thought it would just be another war. If it was war, they could always move like before, when they'd fled Poyang. That was nothing new. But now… this seemed far worse.
"Don't be afraid, Elder Sister."
Though her voice was cold, the Empress's words carried a trace of warmth. "If the Witch God Sect's ritual succeeds and the ancient demon clans flood into the Eastern Divine Continent, I will take you away and find a path back to the cultivation realm.
"If their plan fails, then there's nothing to fear."
"I'm not worried about that."
Gu Xinlan turned toward her. "I'm talking about your brother-in-law! He's still in Liangzhou. What'll happen to him, Guiyi? You know spellcraft, don't you? Couldn't you go and bring him here?"
"Elder Sister, must you still pine after that scoundrel who used to haunt brothels?"
The Empress's eyes chilled. "Do you even know that since you left, he's already betrothed himself to Sun Xiangzong's daughter?"
"That's good news!" Gu Xinlan said earnestly. "Didn't our father have concubines too? And besides, Sun Xiangzong is his teacher—obeying his teacher's will is as good as obeying Heaven. How could he defy that?
"And another thing—let's talk about you! Everyone in court's been gossiping, saying you've got eighteen male favorites!"
The Empress's expression darkened. "Elder Sister, what's so great about that man surnamed Chen? Why can't you forget him? Whatever he could give you, I can give you too! Whatever he can't give, I still can!
"If the Witch God Sect fails this time, this Great Sheng empire will be yours—and his—foundation. What can that mortal Chen offer you?
"In the end, he's just a subject. The old emperor of the Sheng Dynasty is suspicious and foolish. Sooner or later, he'll have Chen executed. Follow him, and you'll never know peace."
"Then can't we bring your brother-in-law here too?"
"He'd never agree."
"Then we still have to try to save him."
"We can't. His fate is his own."
The Empress turned, her dragon robe sweeping behind her as she disappeared into the depths of the palace.
——
Agate River.
Snow fell thick upon the riverbanks.
The entire Hongze Battalion had successfully crossed the floating bridge.
Just fifty li ahead lay the largest barbarian encampment within a thousand-li radius. It wasn't as solid as a true city, but far more fortified than an ordinary stronghold.
Worse still, a Martial Saint was stationed inside, commanding fifty thousand rested troops. From all directions, countless barbarian tribes were still converging toward the area.
They had ten days.
Within ten days, if they failed to escape, they would face an encirclement of one hundred thousand soldiers—and three Martial Saints.
"General!"
Xia Cong shook the snow from his shoulders and clasped his fists. "What are your orders now?"
"Sir," Chu Shixiong said, folding away the intelligence report he'd just received, "why don't we retreat the way we came? It's still not too late."
The Liangzhou command had seen that writing to Chen Sanshi was useless. So they began writing directly to Chu Shixiong instead.
He hesitated before saying, "If we turn back now, we might still make it before the battle starts."
"Anyone who speaks of retreat again…"
Chen Sanshi's voice cut through the snow like steel.
"…will be executed, and their head hung on the banner as sacrifice!"
Chen Sanshi's voice cut through the roaring wind and snow. "At Hulao Pass, I had only 3,000 men—yet I crushed 100,000, and captured Fan Shuzhen alive! Today, I have 15,000. Don't tell me all you new recruits of the Hongze Battalion are cowards who'll drag down our strength?!"
"General!"
"We swear never to retreat!"
"Never retreat!"
"Slay Yu Wen Jingwen!"
The veterans from Poyang and the original 3,000 Black Armor Troops roared in unison. The rest of the Hongze Battalion joined in, their shouts rolling like thunder across the frozen plains.
"Men! Tear down the floating bridge!"
Chen Sanshi's command rang out.
"Yes, sir!"
Several deputy commanders immediately acted.
Right before 15,000 soldiers, they dismantled the floating bridge piece by piece until not a single plank remained.
Break the cauldrons and sink the boats!
No retreat. No hesitation.
Chu Shixiong dared not mention withdrawal again. He said instead, "General, since it's come to this, we'd best advance quickly. I've scouted ahead—about ten li from here, just outside the barbarian stronghold, there's open ground. Perfect for cavalry formations. If something goes wrong, we could still loop west through the mountain path for a bit of leeway."
"No."
Chen Sanshi stood atop a snowy rise, his cloak snapping in the wind. "Pass my command—form ranks here! On the banks of the Agate River!"
"Here?"
Chu Shixiong looked down at the icy water below his boots. "If we step back even half a pace, we'll fall straight into the river."
"Then we don't take even half a step back."
"Form ranks!"
——
Inside the barbarian grand camp.
"Fourth Uncle!"
The Ninth Prince, Yu Wenxin, rushed into the command tent. "They're here! All of them! Last night, Chen Sanshi crossed the river!"
"Mm."
Yu Wen Jingwen's calm voice carried weight. "And their main force—have they made camp ten li outside our stronghold?"
"No."
Yu Wenxin shook his head. "After crossing, they dismantled the bridge themselves and haven't advanced even a step. They've already drawn up formations right there on the riverbank."
"Oh?"
For the first time, the normally composed Yu Wen Jingwen showed surprise. His heavy brows lifted slightly as he studied the map, eyes narrowing at the marked line of the Agate River. "So that boy really means to stake his life on this battlefield…
"Good nephew, are you certain the entire Hongze Battalion is present?"
"Absolutely certain."
Yu Wenxin nodded firmly. "We scouted several times. At least 12,000 men visible along the riverbank—almost certainly their entire force."
Of course, exact headcounts were impossible without full roll calls. Still, an estimate of 12,000 meant nearly the whole army. Considering battle losses along the march, that fit perfectly.
"Then one last question."
Yu Wen Jingwen's tone hardened. "Are both Chen Sanshi and Chu Shixiong there?"
That man surnamed Chen was full of tricks—he had to be sure there wasn't a hidden ambush.
"They're both there," said Yu Wenxin. "Not just them—the Twelfth Prince, King of Yan, Cao Zhi, is with them too. There's no mistake."
"Test it again."
Yu Wen Jingwen didn't rush.
Just then—
"Report—!"
A scout burst in.
"Chen Sanshi and Chu Shixiong are outside the camp with several hundred men, challenging us to battle!"
"Excellent!"
"Clang!"
Yu Wen Jingwen stood abruptly.
Both his massive arms were coiled in heavy black-iron chains, clanking with every step. At the end of one chain hung a gigantic spiked sphere of metal.
The Meteor Hammer.
The weapon's rounded head gleamed coldly, its surface covered in razor-sharp spikes, as tall as half a man.
"Rumble—!"
When the giant general dragged it across the ground, the earth itself trembled as though an iron mountain were shifting.
"Fourth Uncle," said Yu Wenxin, hesitating, "you're going personally? Shouldn't we wait—send out a few generals first, test his strength?"
"Nephew, let me ask you something."
Yu Wen Jingwen stepped into the howling snow, his voice deep as thunder. "Do you know why Fan Shuzhen, with 100,000 men and the strategist Ran Jingxuan, son of the Tomb Tiger, still lost at Hulao Pass?"
"Because…" Yu Wenxin thought for a long moment. "Because Chen Sanshi is cunning?"
"No."
"I'll admit he's bold and unmatched in valor."
"Still wrong."
"Then maybe because he had Deng Feng, the surrendered general of Qing, and the strategist Fang Qingyun at his side?"
"Wrong again."
Yu Wen Jingwen's tone turned grave, his words like a general instructing his pupil. "Fan Shuzhen lost because he hesitated."
People of the Central Plains love to say barbarians don't understand tactics.
In truth, every one of them grew up studying the Art of War. Whenever a major battle ended, they would gather every scrap of intelligence to analyze and replay it, piece by piece.
Yu Wen Jingwen had studied all of Chen Sanshi's campaigns—Hulao Pass included.
If Fan Shuzhen hadn't hesitated at Lingzhou, if he had attacked straight away instead of waiting, would that disaster have ever happened?
Hesitation leads to defeat.
Today would be no exception.
Now that he understood his enemy's movements and troop numbers, what was there left to wait for?
Send generals to probe?
That wasn't testing.
That was sending them to die.
Yu Wen Jingwen knew—besides a Martial Saint, no one alive could stand against Chen Sanshi.
If one of his own generals fell before the first clash, morale would crumble instantly.
Only by striking personally could he guarantee victory.
Whatever schemes that boy Chen Sanshi might have, they'd be useless if he was smashed into paste before he could act.
——
Outside the barbarian stronghold.
"Barbarian dogs!"
Chu Shixiong raised his machete, shouting toward the enemy watchtower, "Aren't you savages supposed to be brave? Why are you cowering inside your walls now? What, too scared to come out?"
"Arrogant Southerner!"
From atop the tower came a furious reply. "You're already dead men, yet you still dare boast!"
The barbarian general Ma Gata Le could no longer hold back his rage. He immediately ordered 300 light cavalry to ride out and meet the enemy.
But the moment he galloped out of the city gates, he saw a white-robed general beside Chu Shixiong, standing amidst the blizzard, drawing a bow.
"Wng—"
A black dragon-shaped arrow tore through the air, appearing suddenly in the vast white snowfield.
Ma Gata Le roared, lifting his curved saber to slice the dragon in two. But as the arrow closed in, he felt the terrifying, oppressive force of the qi wrapped around it—so powerful, so violent, that his own protective energy felt like a flickering star beneath a blazing full moon. Before the arrow even struck, he already knew the outcome. The dragon twisted before his eyes, transforming into the great, looming shadow of a single word—Death.
At the very instant he gave up resisting, a massive wall of iron slammed down in front of him.
The black dragon shattered instantly.
"Your Highness?!"
He turned and saw a massive black warhorse stomping through the snow. Upon it sat the giant figure of Yu Wen Jingwen, wrapped in fur-lined armor, his physique like a mountain. He slowly withdrew the massive meteor hammer, the chains clinking as he turned. Behind him, the gates of the barbarian stronghold swung open.
Row upon row of barbarian cavalry poured out in perfect formation.
When Yu Wen Jingwen spotted Chen Sanshi and Chu Shixiong in the distance, less than one li away, he was certain it was truly them—and all hesitation vanished.
The first battle would also be the last.
"Ma Gata Le, leave 2,000 men to guard the camp!"
Yu Wen Jingwen's booming voice rolled through the snowstorm, so powerful it seemed to bend the wind itself.
"Everyone else, ride with me!
"The Sheng army is spent and cornered! They have nowhere left to run! Push forward, and with a single retreat, they'll fall straight into the Agate River!
"In this battle, whoever takes an enemy head will earn five mu of farmland in the Central Plains and two slave women!
"Follow me—wipe the Sheng army from the earth!"
Land in the barren desert.
Women of the Central Plains.
Wealth and power.
Everything they'd ever desired could be theirs after this victory.
News had spread that Liangzhou was about to be refined, and that immortals would soon hand over the Eastern Divine Continent for them to rule. Everyone knew this was the moment to earn merit and secure position.
"Kill—!"
In an instant, murderous intent filled the sky.
Tens of thousands of barbarian cavalry formed ranks, the earth trembling beneath their charge. The sound of hooves was deafening. Snow fell in sheets from the mountain slopes, shaken loose by the thunder of war.
"Move."
Chen Sanshi did not engage the advance troops. He led his men back toward the Agate River.
Before him stood 13,000 soldiers of the Hongze Battalion, lined in perfect formation, discipline radiating from their ranks.
Scarlet war banners whipped wildly in the wind.
The battle drums thundered like rolling stormclouds.
Both sides knew exactly what victory meant.
The barbarians fought for reward and dominance.
The Hongze Battalion fought for survival.
Failure didn't just mean death—it meant their parents, wives, children, every loved one would become living sacrifices, their bodies turned into furnaces for demonic cultivation.
This battle could only end one way—victory or annihilation.
Their will to fight, their bloodlust, their resolve to die—none of it was inferior to their foes.
If one could have flown high above the field, they would've seen two immense, invisible auras spiraling over the armies, pressing against one another in the heavens.
"Hongze Battalion!"
"Charge!"
At the front, Chen Sanshi reined in his horse.
He leveled his long spear, pointing straight toward the onrushing barbarian cavalry.
"Kill!"
"Kill—!"
"Kill!!!!"
"Boom!"
The Hongze Battalion surged forward like a roaring flood. They split into multiple columns as they rushed past Chen Sanshi, then merged again ahead into a single unstoppable tide.
The 50,000 barbarian cavalry crashed into them head-on.
Warhorses collided with bone-shattering force. The impact resounded across the frozen plains like waves smashing against cliffs.
Battle was joined.
Blood sprayed onto the snow.
The ground trembled beneath tens of thousands of hooves.
Though Chen Sanshi had used a tactical formation from the Heavenly Scripture, he hadn't invoked any Celestial Pearl, so no heavenly phenomena aided them. This fight would be decided only by the blood and strength of his men.
Amid the chaos, Chen Sanshi glanced toward the barbarian camp.
'Now… it should be time for Wang Zhi to move.'
Inside the main camp, Ma Gata Le paced anxiously, glancing toward the sounds of battle. He felt envy rising in his chest.
So many out there would earn glory and reward, while he was left guarding the camp.
But then again, if not for the Prince's intervention, he'd already be a corpse from that white-robed archer's arrow. Staying alive was worth more than glory. There would be other chances for merit later.
"Report!"
"General!"
"Bad news!"
"There's an enemy force—!"
"From the northwest! A cavalry unit suddenly appeared, flying the Hongze Battalion banner!"
"What did you say?"
Before Ma Gata Le could process the report, shouts of battle erupted from the western side of the camp.
Unlike a city of stone, this stronghold was built of wood—easy to break into if the defense was thin.
"How many?!"
"About 2,000!"
"Don't panic!" Ma Gata Le barked. "Chen Sanshi and Chu Shixiong are outside—this must be some deputy commander at best!"
There were only so many Profound Manifestation Generals among the Sheng forces.
The Black Tortoise and White Tiger Battalions each had only three: Lü Ji, Nie Yuan, and Guan Daowu—all known to be fighting in Youzhou. None could possibly be here.
That man Chen was simply desperate—trying a fool's trick like raiding the camp.
Ma Gata Le immediately rallied his men to fight back.
But amidst the chaos, his eyes quickly locked on a figure cutting through the melee.
A Profound Manifestation General.
The man held a machete, every swing carrying waves of force that ripped through the air. Blood sprayed, flesh scattered. Two barbarian officers rushed to block him—but both were decapitated in a single blur, their bodies left twitching on the snow.
"Impossible!"
Ma Gata Le shouted in horror. "Who are you?!"
"Old me doesn't like letting people die knowing who killed them!"
In the blink of an eye—
Wang Zhi stepped toward Ma Gata Le, his aura surging like a tidal wave. The force of his Xuanwu Heavenly Gang was heavy and unstoppable.
After barely seven or eight exchanges, Ma Gata Le could no longer withstand the blows. Though his skin showed no wounds, his organs had already ruptured from the pressure, blood seeping out from within. The internal injuries spread through his meridians, leaving his movements slow and full of openings.
Wang Zhi thrust his blade straight through the barbarian's chest. Ma Gata Le's eyes bulged as he gripped the blade with both hands, refusing to let go.
Then Wang Zhi raised his foot and kicked, his strength like that of a dragon-elephant. Ma Gata Le's massive body was hurled several zhang away, crashing to the ground.
When he hit the snow, his fingers—still clinging to the blade—snapped off and scattered. Blood gushed from his heart, quickly dyeing the snow crimson. He clung to one last breath, barely alive.
"Clang!"
Wang Zhi lifted his heavy machete high.
Yet the dying Ma Gata Le suddenly laughed through bloodied teeth. "Chen Sanshi truly is cunning… hiding another Profound Manifestation Grandmaster like you!"
"But you've already lost!"
"There's no city here!"
"Even if you take this camp, what then? As long as the Prince still breathes, in less than one hour, he'll slaughter every last one of you! You—"
"Crack!"
Wang Zhi's blade came down before he could finish, ending his words forever.
Under Wang Zhi's command, the 2,000 men stormed through the camp, losing only about 100 soldiers before they captured it completely. Then, as instructed in the silk pouch Chen Sanshi had given him, Wang Zhi began fortifying and setting up formation traps.
But his face showed no joy—only grim resolve.
He climbed to the watchtower, gazing toward the distant battlefield. His expression was solemn.
Ma Gata Le's dying words weren't wrong.
Raiding and seizing the camp could only work in two scenarios: when forces were evenly matched, or when the enemy's commanding general was slain, throwing their army into chaos.
Right now, they only had 2,000 men.
And their opponent's general—Yu Wen Jingwen—was a Martial Saint.
Unless…
His junior brother could kill that Martial Saint.
Otherwise, no plan would matter.
——
Agate River.
At the front lines, the barbarian cavalry initially held the advantage through sheer numbers.
But soon, the Hongze Battalion stabilized.
[Backbone of the Army]: all soldiers remained calm even in crisis.
[How Can One Say There Are No Clothes]: all fought with one heart, formation power skyrocketing.
[War Frenzy]: after bathing in blood, they entered a berserk state.
Fifteen thousand men in berserk fury!
They forgot fear. They forgot pain. In their minds, only two words remained—kill enemies.
With every battle trait stacked together, the Hongze Battalion faced an enemy several times their size, yet held their formation like cold, unbreakable machines—driven by burning blood and will.
Not a single man stepped back.
Even as their brothers fell one after another, not one retreated.
Even in death—they died on the banks of the Agate River, not a single corpse falling into the freezing current.
Such terrifying fighting spirit—no one had ever witnessed its like.
Even Yu Wen Jingwen felt genuine admiration in his heart.
How long had it even been since the Hongze Battalion reached full strength?
Yet Chen Sanshi had turned them into a fearless army of death-defying wolves and tigers.
Rage boiled within Yu Wen Jingwen. He swung his meteor hammer down like a falling star, the impact flattening over a dozen Hongze soldiers into pulp. The resulting shockwave flung another twenty through the air, breaking their lines.
"Prince!"
A soldier charged up through the melee, shouting, "Bad news! The main camp—!"
"The main camp has been taken by the enemy!"
"Oh?"
Amid the raging battlefield, the area around Yu Wen Jingwen was strangely empty, as if no one dared step near him. Even so, upon hearing the news, he didn't panic. "Didn't I leave Ma Gata Le to guard it? He can't be that useless—surely not killed by some deputy officer?"
"N-no, Your Highness!" the soldier stammered. "They—they had a Profound Manifestation Grandmaster! I think—it might be that man named Tang Ruoshan!"
"So, he had another hidden Profound Manifestation Grandmaster after all."
Yu Wen Jingwen sneered coldly.
Before the battle, he had already considered every possibility—including the chance that Chen Sanshi might send 1,000 to 2,000 men to strike the camp.
But he hadn't cared then.
And he didn't care now.
Yes—even with an extra Profound Manifestation Grandmaster, what of it?
Losing the camp meant nothing.
He didn't need a camp.
He only needed to slaughter the entire Hongze Battalion here, on the riverbank.
What could a mere 2,000 men possibly accomplish?
The victory was already within reach.
Even if the Hongze Battalion feared no death, that didn't make them immortal.
Unbreakable will didn't mean they couldn't die—and once their strength ran out, even iron resolve would shatter.
They had already suffered heavy casualties.
All he needed to do now was keep pressing.
And soon—it would all be over.
Yu Wen Jingwen lifted his gaze. Across the chaos, he spotted a white horse and a white cloak moving through the melee.
The young general on the white horse.
Chen Sanshi.
He had been avoiding him since the battle began, targeting lieutenants and sub-commanders instead.
But this time—there would be no escape.
Yu Wen Jingwen's eyes gleamed like drawn steel.
Once that man was dead, everything would end.
The white-robed general met his gaze, eyes burning with equal fury and killing intent.
Today's battle was the Hongze Battalion's fight to the death.
But for Chen Sanshi—it was his as well.
Both commanders shared the same thought.
Kill the other—and it all ends.
Kill the Martial Saint!