Chapter 116 : Peerless Bearing
Chapter 116: Peerless Bearing
Under the gaze of the multitude, Wu Man’er rode alone from the army ranks, galloping straight toward Martial God Pass.
Chang Wu’s sharp gaze fell upon Wu Man’er.
His brows furrowed slightly—the youth gave him an inexplicable feeling of discomfort.
Ever since consuming the Martial God Pill, this was the first time he had felt such unease.
“Who goes there? State your name!”
Chang Wu shouted, his voice so loud it stirred up the dust all around.
Wu Man’er gripped a long halberd in his hands—the heaviest weapon in the Seven Provinces Coalition Army, weighing two hundred and seventy catties.
Yet to him, it felt like the most fitting weapon he could wield.
“Clear Sky Sect, Wu Man’er!”
Wu Man’er gathered all his vital energy, his shout echoing across the mountains, not a bit weaker than Chang Wu’s.
That single shout caused the soldiers on Martial God Pass to pale in shock.
Even the fierce warhorse beneath Chang Wu reared in fright, its forehooves pawing at the air.
“Clear Sky Sect?”
A cold glint flashed through Chang Wu’s eyes.
In recent days, King of Weizhou had invited many martial experts to aid him, so such a thing no longer surprised him.
Yet the name Clear Sky Sect sounded vaguely familiar—as though he had heard it before.
Wu Man’er knew nothing of psychological warfare.
As instructed by his Second Senior Brother, after declaring his name and origin, he charged directly toward Chang Wu.
The soldiers of the Seven Provinces watched him, tension rising in their hearts as their eyes followed his figure unwaveringly.
Seeing Wu Man’er rushing straight at him, Chang Wu realized that the man clearly did not take him seriously.
Fury surged in his chest.
He immediately squeezed his legs together, sending his warhorse thundering forward.
The two sped toward each other, their momentum building with every heartbeat.
Twin plumes of dust billowed behind them as they charged, unstoppable.
Wu Man’er raised his halberd high, swinging it down with the force of splitting Mount Hua.
Chang Wu raised his blade from below, aiming to knock the halberd aside.
Clang—!
Wu Man’er’s brows knitted tighter; Chang Wu’s face changed slightly.
The long weapons in their hands quivered violently.
Beneath them, both warhorses burst apart from the shock, flesh and blood scattering everywhere.
The instant they landed, they launched into another assault—two human war gods clashing amidst waves of blood.
Chang Wu wielded his long saber single-handedly, slashing horizontally.
Wu Man’er gripped his halberd with his right hand, his left forming a palm strike.
He thrust out, vital energy roaring forth with the sound of thunder and wind.
Boom—!
The Nine Heavens Divine Palm struck with overwhelming might, sending Chang Wu flying.
The surging energy swept dust in all directions, engulfing the battlefield.
Chang Wu was blasted ten zhang away.
When he hit the ground, his feet still slid backward.
He stabbed his saber into the soil, trying desperately to steady himself.
At that moment, Wu Man’er suddenly hurled his halberd.
He threw it with his full strength, his armor nearly bursting from his swelling muscles.
His left foot, serving as the pivot, sank deep into the ground.
A cold gleam flashed!
The halberd moved so fast that no one from either army could follow its trajectory—not even Chang Wu.
He had barely steadied himself when he saw Wu Man’er’s motion.
His pupils dilated in instinctive fear.
Puchi!
The halberd pierced through Chang Wu’s armor, splitting his abdomen open.
The tremendous force yanked his body off the ground, sending him flying backward like a siege boulder.
He crashed into the wall of Martial God Pass.
Cracks spidered out from the impact, spreading like a massive web.
The entire pass trembled violently, and the soldiers upon the wall felt the shock through their feet.
Silence.
Both armies froze in disbelief, their eyes wide as if staring at a ghost.
From the moment Wu Man’er clashed with Chang Wu, only three moves had passed—and in less than three breaths, the battle had ended.
Chang Wu was nailed to the wall, his body trembling.
Blood gushed from his chest like a spring; foam dribbled from his mouth.
The light in his bloodshot eyes rapidly faded.
The one-man barrier of Martial God Pass—Chang Wu—was dead!
Wu Man’er still held the posture of having thrown his halberd.
Behind him, the soldiers of the Seven Provinces stared wide-eyed, imprinting his image forever in their hearts.
He had pierced Chang Wu’s impervious body and sent him flying dozens of zhang away—an act so terrifying that many wore expressions as if they had seen a ghost.
“Kill—! Assault the city!”
A thunderous roar shattered the silence.
The Seven Provinces Army erupted in a sky-shaking battle cry, the earth and mountains trembling with their charge.
Tens of thousands charging—what a magnificent sight!
King of Weizhou and Pei Zhangzhi stood upon a war chariot, gazing at Wu Man’er’s figure in awe.
Pei Zhangzhi sighed sincerely.
“A truly peerless general—a god of war reborn.”
The King of Weizhou’s eyes blazed with excitement.
Li Sifeng laughed proudly.
“I wasn’t exaggerating, was I? That’s my Fifth Senior Brother! That Chang Wu was never his match!”
Even amidst the deafening roars of battle, the King of Weizhou heard Li Sifeng’s words.
Snapping out of his daze, he burst into hearty laughter and clapped Li Sifeng on the shoulder.
“Reward! I shall reward you all handsomely!”
A brutal siege was about to begin.
Though the imperial army’s morale faltered after Chang Wu’s death, they still relied on the strong defenses of Martial God Pass.
Even against ten thousand foes, they stood with confidence.
Wu Man’er charged toward the pass.
Archers upon the walls drew their bows, loosing volleys of arrows that rained down like a collapsing sky.
Though his build appeared heavy, Wu Man’er’s movements were swift and fluid—he slipped through the downpour of arrows and raced for the gate.
The soldiers of the Seven Provinces behind him were utterly roused, their blood boiling as they sped up to follow.
Before their eyes, Wu Man’er leapt over the moat, twisting midair.
His shoulder crashed forward like a falling boulder.
Boom—!
The massive city gate shattered under his impact.
The soldiers behind it were flung backward, their screams ringing out in chaos.
Brutal.
Violent.
Unstoppable.
Wu Man’er’s display utterly ignited the Seven Provinces Army’s morale, making them forget all fear.
The King of Weizhou was ecstatic.
He had not only witnessed Wu Man’er slay Chang Wu but also break through the city gate, sparing the army a costly assault.
At that instant, the King of Weizhou felt as though the throne itself was beckoning to him.
Meanwhile—
Atop a mountain west of Martial God Pass, dozens of black-clad figures wearing Evil Ghost Masks stood watching the battle below.
“Who is that man, to be so formidable?”
The leading black-clad man asked in a low, astonished tone.
A subordinate answered, “Director, that’s Wu Man’er of the Clear Sky Sect, the Fifth Junior Brother of Li Qingqiu.”
“Clear Sky Sect again? Even the Martial God Pill’s power couldn’t save Chang Wu from him.
No wonder Xuan Gong sent us here.”
The one called “Director” snorted coldly and ordered, “Prepare to descend the mountain. Our primary target is to capture Wu Man’er of the Clear Sky Sect. Remember—alive, not dead.”
Dozens of black-clad men answered in unison.
Just as they prepared to move, a piercing cry rang through the heavens.
They instinctively looked up and saw a dark shadow circling high above.
It was too distant to discern its form.
Before the Director could lower his gaze, a fierce wind descended from the sky, pressing down upon them.
The nearby trees bent under the force.
Then—
Whoosh!
A streak of light fell from above.
A sword gleaming with cold radiance plunged into the cliff before them, wind swirling outward and scattering grass and dust, clearing a vast space.
The Director turned his head—and his eyes widened behind the mask.
A single figure stood upon the sword’s hilt, one foot balanced gracefully.
It was Li Qingqiu!
Sunlight bathed him.
Though clad in the garb of a wandering swordsman, he exuded an ethereal, immortal air.
The black-clad men recoiled in fright, retreating several steps.
Their gazes darted around, but aside from a distant black shadow in the sky, not a single other figure—nor even a cloud—could be seen.
“You…”
The Director’s voice trembled.
He could not fathom how Li Qingqiu had appeared—had he truly fallen from the heavens?
The others were equally terrified, uncertain whether the man before them was human or ghost.
Li Qingqiu leapt down from the sword hilt, landing lightly beside it.
He grasped the sword’s handle and said calmly,
“You wish to descend and capture my junior brother? Then you must first pass through me.”
Junior brother?
The Director snapped out of his daze and demanded, “Who are you of the Clear Sky Sect?”
“Li Qingqiu.” His tone was cold and detached.
Those three words struck the group like thunder.
They all knew—the Demonic Emperor had perished at the hands of the Clear Sky Sect Master, Li Qingqiu.
Li Qingqiu raised his sword, pointing it directly at the Director.
“Come then. You are already surrounded by me—there’s nowhere left to run.”
His words stoked the Director’s fury.
He drew his blade and roared,
“Arrogant fool! Kill him! Cut off his limbs and take him back to the Imperial City as a cripple!”
Dozens of black-clad men unsheathed their weapons and charged.
Below the mountain, the battlefield raged in chaos.
Above, a deadly duel began.
The clash of blades echoed endlessly.
Li Qingqiu did not use any spells—only his swordsmanship—to face the black-clad men who had taken the Martial God Pill.
Their strength far surpassed that of Su Xiling, and even slightly exceeded Zhao Linglong’s.
To think that Zhao Linglong, who cultivated the Mystic Yin Art, held two hundred years of power—the Martial God Pill was truly extraordinary.
Li Qingqiu sensed the violent vital energy within them, rampaging wildly through their bodies—the effect of the pill itself.
Their movements and reaction speeds were astonishing.
On a battlefield, such warriors would be devastating.
Unfortunately, Li Qingqiu was faster.
Each time their figures crossed, his sword left a mark upon them.
He did not hurry to kill them; he wanted to see their limits.
The Director swung out a wave of blade energy, which Li Qingqiu easily sidestepped.
With a single turn, Li Qingqiu closed in on him.
Seeing the swordsman’s ghostlike speed, the Director panicked and leapt into the air, slashing again.
Four black-clad men attacked simultaneously from different directions, their blade auras interweaving, leaving Li Qingqiu seemingly nowhere to evade.
But with a mere flick of his sword, Li Qingqiu shattered their combined attack—sending terror through their hearts.
They had never faced such a foe.
His strength rendered them utterly powerless.
Yet as Forbidden Martial Guards, retreat was not in their nature.
The battle dragged on.
Li Qingqiu’s movement grew even more fluid, and wounds began to multiply upon their bodies.
Half an incense’s time later, one of them could no longer hold on.
He collapsed to his knees, blood gushing from every wound, before falling lifeless into a pool of blood.
The Director, too, was covered in wounds.
His movements slowed, and fear crept into his heart.
Li Qingqiu turned, his cold gaze meeting his.
“You’d best not think of running,” he said icily.
“That would only displease me—and even in death, your torment would not end.”
His words froze their hearts.
The terror they felt was no less than when facing Xuan Gong himself.
Just then, a notification appeared before Li Qingqiu’s eyes:
【Since a disciple of your Dao Lineage has created a Spirit Gathering Formation, opening the path of Formation within your Dao Lineage, you have obtained a Fortuitous Fate Chance.】
Spirit Gathering Formation?
Who could be so talented?
Li Qingqiu felt a spark of joy—he had not expected his disciples to grant him such a pleasant surprise.