The wind and rain lashed down fiercely at the foot of the mountain. Grand Duke Gao Shizhen of Shen refused the umbrella offered by his retainers, standing in the downpour, letting the rain, thick as soybeans, pelt his body.

“Don’t speak to me of loyalty to the nation, or the glory of the realm!” Gao Shizhen roared inwardly. His grand estate of Shen was reduced to a single incense stick of lineage in his son, Gao Shuyi. Once lost, it was lost forever. He had poured his heart and soul into nurturing that son for over twenty years, and as a father, Gao Shizhen could find no flaw in Gao Shuyi. Before receiving that secret letter from the Third Prince, he had firmly believed that Gao Shuyi would become a pillar of the Great Spring Dynasty. Regardless of who sat upon the dragon throne, the Shen estate would rise again, wielding power and influence in the court. It would be elevated to a princely estate, trusted by the new emperor, annex the Northern Jin and Southern Qi, becoming the largest dynasty in the central Tongye Continent.

The Emperor promised to compensate the Shen estate. The Third Prince promised to compensate Gao Shizhen himself. The retained scholars and advisors urged him to be patient and endure.

Gao Shizhen had appeared calm during this time, hiding his grief from everyone. First, he left the imperial palace, then quietly departed the Third Prince’s residence, and finally, he secretly left the capital, serving as the Emperor’s secret envoy to meet Yao Zhen at the Crane-Riding City post station. All was calm on the surface. The Shen estate remained the righteous and honorable estate of the Great Spring Dynasty. Gao Shizhen had never disappointed the aging Emperor Liu Zhen.

If not for a chance encounter that came from the heavens, Gao Shizhen would have been unable to cause a stir. After all, Mirage City belonged to the Emperor, and the Great Spring Dynasty bore the name of Liu.

But things were different now.

Someone had found him, Gao Shizhen. He, in turn, had found the First Prince, Liu Cong. Liu Cong had gathered five thousand elite soldiers. As for how many mountain sects he had secretly won over, Gao Shizhen had no interest in that.

A lion uses all its strength to hunt a rabbit. Never add fuel to the fire, that’s a major military taboo.

Even Gao Shizhen, a pampered capital dweller, understood this simple principle. He believed that the First Prince, Liu Cong, understood it even more deeply.

Gao Shizhen waited, awaiting Liu Cong’s descent from the mountain, carrying that head as an offering to him. He would then bring it before the new grave of his son, Gao Shuyi.

Before the dilapidated temple, Chen Pingan looked towards the last two individuals among Liu Cong’s entourage, hiding their presence.

Sensing Chen Pingan’s gaze, the two exchanged a look and stepped forward. They were none other than the martial general Xu Qingzhou and the celestial master Xu Tong, old acquaintances who had respectively clashed with Lu Baixiang and Sui Youbian at the border tavern.

Xu Qingzhou tossed aside his raincoat, revealing a suit of armor. Besides the standard Great Spring border army saber, he also carried his cherished blade “Great Skill,” a significant weapon of the Military School.

Xu Qingzhou remained silent, but Xu Tong, the master of the Grass and Wood Temple, smiled, “Young Master Chen, we meet again. Last time it was in the southern borderlands, this time it’s in the northern border. Just like General Xu’s beloved blade, named ‘Great Skill,’ it’s a great coincidence.”

Behind Liu Cong, among the ten attendants, besides Xu Qingzhou and Xu Tong, the remaining eight were all veteran cultivators from the northern border. The Great Spring Dynasty’s border wars were mainly limited to the northern and southern borders with the Northern Jin and Southern Qi. The south was guarded by the Yao family’s iron cavalry, while the north was protected by the First Prince’s 120,000 border troops. They constantly engaged in battles with the Southern Qi, frequently attacking and raiding. Whether their strength was high or low, they certainly drew their blades more often than the Yao family’s iron cavalry.

The martial general Xu Qingzhou, who had climbed this mountain to encircle Chen Pingan and his party, had a clear objective. He wanted that extraordinary Nectar Armor, and ideally, he wanted to acquire the blade as well.

Liu Cong had only promised him the armor. As for the narrow blade, it could be sold but not given away. It would depend on the sincerity of Xu Qingzhou and his lineage in their “purchase.”

The high-crowned celestial master Xu Tong, master of the Grass and Wood Temple, the foremost immortal sect within the Great Spring Dynasty, excelled in thunder magic and was proficient in alchemy. He could cultivate longevity, and through this, he had befriended countless dignitaries. Beneath the raincoat, his robe emanated a spectacle of spiritual energy, showcasing a painted landscape of five-colored cloud seals. In truth, this spiritual item robe, named “Five-Colored Peaks,” was an ancestral treasure of the Grass and Wood Temple, already close to the rank of magical treasure.

The celestial master Xu Tong coveted the Golden Nectar Robe on Chen Pingan, which, after his true form was revealed, resembled a golden dragon robe.

He lusted after it day and night!

Chen Pingan looked at Liu Cong and asked, “Is it for that chair?”

Liu Cong said sternly, “Otherwise? Do you think the lives of my five thousand border soldiers are worthless?!”

At this point, the First Prince gritted his teeth, “If I hadn’t come to the entrance of this broken temple today, if I hadn’t seen you with my own eyes, Chen Pingan, my heart…”

Liu Cong pointed to his chest, “…would not be at peace!”

Chen Pingan said, “Not at peace? Isn’t that what you brought upon yourself? Five thousand Great Spring border soldiers died on this small mountain… Never mind, you probably understand the reasoning. You’ll likely tell yourself that great men shouldn’t be constrained by trivial matters. Once you become Emperor, these five thousand soldiers will have died for their country, a death well-deserved.”

Chen Pingan lightly waved the withered branch in his hand, “One last question, why do you think the jade pendant on my waist is fake?”

Liu Cong had chatted so much, perhaps to embolden himself, or perhaps to overcome a personal hurdle.

Chen Pingan was willing to indulge Liu Cong in these words, but only for this last question.

A question of utmost importance.

The one who wanted his head was definitely Grand Duke Gao Shizhen of Shen. Chen Pingan had a guess about who wanted the item from the Azure Jade Mansion. But who exactly wanted the Sword Nourishing Gourd?

Chen Pingan had put on the jade pendant as soon as he left the Crane-Riding City post station.

When he arrived at Peach Leaf Ferry, as the time for parting with Yao Zhen’s party drew near, Chen Pingan had even proclaimed his identity as “A cultivator of the Grand Peace Mountain,” announcing it to the world. This was to alleviate the pressure on Yao Zhen in the Great Spring capital. If those enemies in Mirage City could not even recognize the jade pendant, then the Yao family need not worry.

And those who understood the jade pendant were mostly formidable figures who would retreat in the face of difficulty. In fact, Du Hanling, the master of the Golden Peak Temple, who could use divine powers to observe the mountains and rivers within the small boat at Peach Leaf Ferry, was one of them. After seeing the jade pendant, even if it displeased Mirage City, she had insisted on leaving.

Liu Cong’s eyes were strange, and he only gave Chen Pingan half an answer.

“This Grand Peace Mountain Patriarch Hall pendant is real, absolutely authentic, but at the same time, it’s also fake. It’s better if you don’t wear it. Once it’s hanging on your waist, I have to return those two words to you. ‘Courting death!'”
Chen Ping’an observed the Great Quan Dynasty’s imperial prince becoming ever more self-righteous as he spoke.

It seemed that those born into imperial families were truly more difficult to reason with.

First, there was his neighbor, Song Jixin.

Now, both sides had their own logic, with varying degrees of right and wrong, importance and urgency. But Liu Cong, his five thousand armored soldiers, and the hidden cultivators and martial arts grandmasters were like arrows on a drawn bow, fueled by some unseen force pushing Liu Cong forward. Chen Ping’an couldn’t simply suggest they all go into the temple, have a meal, and call it a day, or that the struggle for the dragon throne should be conducted with noble methods. Chen Ping’an didn’t want to waste his breath. If words could work, he’d be willing to speak, but the other side simply wouldn’t listen.

Chen Ping’an picked up a dead branch and pointed it at Liu Cong a couple of times.

Beside him, the hunched old man shot forward first, aiming to capture the ringleader. Even if it were a trap, so what? Zhu Lian truly wanted to experience the mountain’s conspiracies of this world!

Standing on his right, Sui Youbian, and on his left, Lu Baixiang, both surged out.

Wei Xian, clad in his Divine Dew Armor, strode forward, keeping pace with the martial arts fanatic who was charging ahead. He wouldn’t be leading the charge, but rather protecting the dilapidated temple.

Chen Ping’an, however, patiently waited for the opponent’s trump card.

On a mountain peak higher than the one where the dilapidated temple stood.

Two figures stood atop the peak. Whether they were reclusive experts was debatable, but they certainly stood in a high position.

One was a scholarly old man, not wearing the jade pendant given to him by the academy. Within the Great Quan Dynasty, no one dared question him standing there, not even if he stood on the roof of the Mirage City’s Golden Luan Hall.

Beside the aged scholar stood a burly man with bulging muscles, exuding a savage aura that seemed inhuman.

The matter was of great importance, and the old man asked a question that bordered on disrespect: “Will your master not break his promise?”

The large man’s reply was even more direct and rude: “How my master acts is not for me to spout nonsense about here. If you have the guts, ask the master yourself, provided you have the nerve.”

The old man muttered to himself: “I act in the name of righteousness, and in the end, it will be justified. Even if the academy is angered by the Taiping Mountain afterwards, and I am blamed, stripped of my title… it doesn’t matter.”

The large man sneered: “A hypocrite, that’s what you scholars are, right?”

The old man smiled wryly: “To know one’s mistakes and improve is the greatest virtue. I’ve read more than ten thousand books, dabbled in the knowledge of hundreds of schools, but I missed this saying from my own sage.”

The large man didn’t want to push his luck and continue to ridicule the old thing beside him. What if he changed his mind at the last moment and had a sudden awakening? Wouldn’t that ruin the master’s impromptu plan? So he tried to appease him: “That treasure is so rare, it’s no wonder you’re tempted and have painstakingly planned for so long. Actually, I’m also envious. Once you get it, I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll give you the magic treasure my master bestowed upon me, and you just need to pass on half of it to me, and I’ll work for you for sixty years. After it’s done, you’ll pass on the remaining half. How about it?”

The old man thought for a moment and nodded in agreement: “It’s settled then!”

The large man reminded him: “My master instructed me before he left not to act unless it’s to save your life. He also wants you to be careful and not act rashly, or else you’ll easily attract the attention of that Wen Miao sage. Although that sage is currently busy searching for that old Taiping Mountain ape, if he quickly arrives here, Liu Cong and those ants are nothing, but the two of us will definitely suffer.”

Mention of the sage, especially with the prefix “Wen Miao,” made the old man’s already solemn mood plummet even further. None of the seventy-two sages accompanying the “Orthodox Civilization” in Middle Earth were easy to deal with. These were not the mountain lords of the seventy-two academies, nor the “sages” of the secular dynasties. These were true Confucian Sages! The old man’s face darkened, and he nodded: “My life is at stake, of course I understand.”

The wind and rain were heavier on the mountain top, but the raindrops seemed to fall on an invisible oil-paper umbrella, splashing in all directions above the two men’s heads.

The large man yawned. He didn’t quite understand why a person of such high status and ability as his master would want to pick on that young man.

It would be understandable if it were the top figures of the Tongye Sect and Yu Gui Sect at the northern and southern ends of this continent, or like the sword-wielding old ape who neatly killed Zhong Kui, the Great Fu Gentleman, a future high priest of a Confucian academy. That would be qualified.

Unfortunately, his master had calculated everything, almost encompassing the entire Tongye Continent. A handyman boy from the Fuzhi Sect accidentally discovered the existence of that Twelfth Realm predecessor, causing a chain reaction and completely disrupting his master’s meticulously planned grand scheme.

Could it be that the destiny of this Tongye Continent was so strong? Even stronger than the Saha Continent closest to the Upside-Down Mountain?

It should be known that the Southern Saha Continent had an Old Man Chen who carried the sun and moon on his shoulders. According to his master, he was very famous in his hometown and was regarded as a top-tier opponent. Even his master said that as long as he was in the Azure Billow Continent, he would definitely be no match for the Pure Confucian Chen Chun’an.

A young Taoist wearing a lotus crown arrived at a small border town in the south of Great Quan. He didn’t enter the Fox Town, but slowly walked along the outside of the low yellow earth wall, extending a palm and gently stroking the rough wall with a smile.

Finally, he walked along the official road to an inn near the town. The business inside was deserted. A lame boy was dozing on the table, an old hunchback was sitting by the curtain smoking a pipe, and a woman was sitting behind the counter doing accounts. The calculations made her wish she could smash the abacus.

The young Taoist crossed the threshold of the inn, his eyes gentle, and softly called out, “Nine Niang, Nine Niang.”

The lame boy drowsily raised his head, annoyed. Why was it that after the down-on-his-luck scholar left, a young Taoist coveting the innkeeper’s beauty had come? Were there no other beautiful women in the world?! Why did they have to come and pester his boss?

The woman raised her head, puzzled: “Young Taoist priest, do we know each other?”

The young Taoist priest, whose appearance was not outstanding, except for the relatively rare Taoist crown, was actually unremarkable in all aspects. His appearance was ordinary, and his height was neither tall nor short. His Taoist robe also looked old.
The woman found this man’s gaze very strange. It was neither the lewdness of a fox spirit towards vigorous young men, nor the unfathomable infatuation of Zhong Kui. It was like greeting a long-lost acquaintance, yet while he was clearly looking at her, it was as if he was gazing into the far distance.

Nine-Nang felt somewhat displeased. After she asked him a question, the young Daoist simply smiled and looked at her. His eyes grew brighter and brighter, becoming increasingly unsettling.

The young Daoist, for no apparent reason, was in tears, yet he asked with a smile, “Nine-Nang, shall we go home?”

Before Nine-Nang could erupt in curses,

The young Daoist wiped away his tears and said self-deprecatingly, “I mistook you for someone else. My apologies.”

He sat down at a nearby wine table, took out a few pieces of silver from his sleeve, and placed them on the table. He smiled and said, “Buy some wine with this, as many jugs as it can get.”

The inn was located in a remote border region, a place where all sorts gathered. Traveling merchants and travelers of questionable character came and went frequently. The crippled young boy, having worked at the inn for many years, had seen his share of eccentric customers and didn’t think too much of it. He took the silver and said, “Our inn’s plum wine comes in three grades. If you want the best plum wine, sir, you can only buy one jar…”

The young Daoist interrupted the little cripple, smiling, “Then I’ll have one jar of the best plum wine.”

Far from home, the world was vast, and one couldn’t confide in anyone. Such a lonely journey, even more solitary than that of a sage, how could one go without wine?

He had tasted nearly all the fine and foul wines of the Tongye Continent.

He enjoyed drinking and had a decent sword-nurturing gourd to serve as a wine pot, which was perfect.

As for the two natal flying swords of mysterious origin within the gourd, it didn’t matter if they were destroyed; it would be even better if they remained.

Upon returning to his hometown, he could give them to the younger generation of his family as gifts, a small compensation for missing their coming-of-age ceremonies. In his hometown, giving swords was more meaningful than any other gift.

This upheaval in Tongye Continent had leaked heavenly secrets early on. It wasn’t his fault that his two subordinates failed to remain hidden until the very end. It was simply that the timing was still within the Great Bright World. Now, it depended on whether things would go more smoothly in the Saha and Fuyu Continents.

Originally, both the Taiping Mountain and the Fuji Sect were destined to be destroyed. The Heavenly Sovereign Ancestor and Sect Leader of Taiping Mountain, the Ji Hai couple, would die, and the female Daoist Huang Ting, a favored daughter of Heaven who possessed much of the continent’s fortune, would be no exception.

As for the Great Fu Academy’s gentleman Zhong Kui, he was actually ranked quite high on this young Daoist of Taiping Mountain’s list.

The significance of killing one Zhong Kui was no less than leveling Taiping Mountain.

Therefore, the order he gave to the sword-bearing white ape was that it was worth sacrificing its life. If it could successfully escape into that shattered dragon vein afterward, no matter how severe its injuries, it would be a gain. It should then hide away and stay hidden. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to protect the old ape. After all, he could only take one person away from the Great Bright World. If the old ape hadn’t damaged the foundation of its Dao and remained a twelfth-realm sword cultivator, he might have taken it instead of indulging in old sentiments and drinking alone in this border inn.

Zhong Kui was supposed to live longer, and be more infatuated.

Hunchback Third Master gestured to Nine-Nang to be careful of this person, but the woman insisted on carrying the wine jar and two white bowls herself, sitting down opposite the young Daoist.

Nine-Nang poured two bowls of wine and asked with a smile, “Young Daoist, did you mistake me for someone else, or do you truly know me?”

The young Daoist picked up a bowl, took a sip of the plum wine, praised it, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I mistook you.”

Nine-Nang asked with a smile, “Young Daoist, you are bold and generous. In your words, you never refer to yourself as ‘poor Daoist’. Could it be that you are a fake Daoist impersonating a Taiping Mountain immortal?”

The young Daoist shook his head and said, “A true Daoist, as true as can be. I casually found a body and cultivated on Taiping Mountain for over a hundred years before obtaining a jade token. Later, during my travels down the mountain, I died, leaving no bones behind. The sect couldn’t even retrieve the jade token. It was quite tragic. After that, I changed my face and wandered around, starting to look for wine to drink again. Finally, I returned to Daquan and wandered around many places, such as the Buried River. I also met a scholar named Wang Qi in Mirage City. That person was quite old at the time, and his name was truly well-chosen. ‘Qi,’ as the sage explains, means ‘a tall body and a sincere and determined heart.'”

“It’s a pity that such a gentleman’s thousand-mile dike was destroyed by an ant hole, destroyed by a single word: greed, greed for life.”

Nine-Nang’s wrist trembled slightly as she raised her bowl to drink.

She finished all the wine in one gulp, put down the bowl, and asked, “Why tell me all this? Are you going to kill me?”

The young Daoist seemed to have heard the biggest joke in the world, murmuring, “I told you, I mistook you for someone else. It has nothing to do with you. My old friend has nine lives, how can I kill her? Killing you once, Old Man Bai would sense it. You don’t know how miserable Old Man Bai made us. Even if a Confucian sage killed me, I would only be half-dead, helping me go home sooner. If Old Man Bai were to see me with his own eyes, even across a world, he could grind me to ashes.”

He was somewhat sentimental, sighing, “I am also reluctant to kill.”

This “young Daoist” who could command two great demons to risk their lives smiled, picked up the bowl, and sipped some wine. “This great calamity in Tongye Continent, looking back on it later, is actually a blessing in disguise.”

Nine-Nang’s heart was a stormy sea.

“Don’t worry, I have already drunk fine wine and said my complaints. You won’t remember anything,” the young Daoist said, putting down the bowl and running his finger around its rim. Then he stood up, turned around, and left the inn.

The scene inside the inn was strange and eerie, as if time was reversing. Nine-Nang, Third Master, and the little cripple began to speak and act in reverse.

Finally, as the young Daoist stepped over the threshold of the inn, everything returned to normal. The little cripple was dozing off on the wine table, the old hunchback was smoking his pipe by the door curtain, and Nine-Nang was still working on her abacus.

Everything was still.

Only the young Daoist’s wine bowl remained abruptly on the table.

He leaned back and looked towards the counter.

“Nine-Nang” coldly looked up at him, meeting the young Daoist’s gaze.

The young Daoist looked behind “Nine-Nang” at the rows of snow-white tails as thick as beams, densely gathered behind the woman.

The young Daoist counted the fox tails, frowned slightly, then quickly relaxed, smiling as he left.

“Nine-Nang” said coldly, “You will be found out sooner or later.”

He was already far from the inn, but his voice still echoed within: “That’s exactly what I want. Otherwise, why would I go to the trouble of dealing with a young man that even Taiping Mountain protects?”

A moment later.
The little cripple continued his soft snoring, the smoke continued to swirl, and the sound of the woman calculating on her abacus rose in a chaotic chorus.

After a long while, the woman caught sight of the white bowl on the table. She slammed her hand down on the abacus and roared, “Little cripple, are you blind? Why haven’t you taken away the wine bowl on the table?!”

The little cripple woke up with a start. Seeing the wine bowl that had inexplicably appeared on the table, he scratched his head. He clearly remembered having cleaned it up, but he dared not argue with the boss lady in her foul mood. He picked up the wine bowl and went to the kitchen.

In the vast borderlands, a young man wearing a crooked Taoist coronet walked along, singing loudly, “Collecting gourds, collecting wine gourds, collecting wine gourds to hold wine, the delicate hands of my beloved pouring wine, tender as white jade lotus roots…”

Outside the dilapidated temple, the wind and rain raged.

Yet, even such a downpour carried a distinct smell of blood.

Sui Youbian darted to one side. Tonight, she didn’t wield her sword like a swordsman controlling a longsword as she had in the inn battle. Instead, she held the “Cherished Heart” in her hand, her movements as nimble as a mountain monkey, twisting and turning through the trees. With each sword strike, sword qi burst forth, cleaving the Bianjun soldiers, armor and all, in two.

Lu Baixiang went in the opposite direction from Sui Youbian, striding forward. As soon as a Bianjun soldier approached with a sword, he would strike out with a casual swing. Unlike Sui Youbian’s broad, sweeping sword strokes, Lu Baixiang’s blade and the fine, hair-like formidable qi, targeted only the necks of armored soldiers or “pointed” at the foreheads of the elite Bianjun warriors with the tip of his blade.

Meanwhile, martial arts experts and military strategists were hidden among the ordinary Bianjun soldiers in the mountain forests on both sides, waiting for an opportunity to launch a sneak attack on Lu Baixiang and Sui Youbian.

Barrages of crossbow bolts rained down as well.

Sui Youbian’s formidable aura was even more intense than the sword qi of the “Cherished Heart” in her hand.

Worthy indeed of being the first female sword immortal in the history of Lotus Root Blessed Land who attempted to open the heavens with her sword and ascend bodily.

Lu Baixiang strolled leisurely.

These soldiers, who were considered elites, even with a few tricky enemies mixed in, dared to speak of “encirclement”? Did they not know how many experts and grandmasters from both righteous and evil paths Lu Baixiang had gathered in his last battle during his life?

Moreover.

The three individuals who stepped out of the painting scroll from the inn outside Fox Cub Town, including Zhu Lian, were now vastly different from what they once were.

Sui Youbian focused on swordsmanship, rapidly adapting to the qi flow of this vast world. Had Zhu Lian and Lu Baixiang been idle? A Sixth Realm martial artist who needed to divide his attention to adapt to the influx of spiritual energy in this world was vastly different from a Sixth Realm peak martial artist with a stable realm.

Directly in front of the dilapidated temple gate.

Chen Ping An only used the flying swords First and Fifteenth, cooperating with the martial madman Zhu Lian, to launch a surprise attack on the crown prince Liu Cong once. After that, he no longer took action, still holding the withered branch and standing under the eaves.

Xu Qingzhou, wearing the military strategist Golden Crow Warp and Weft Armor, and the Herb Cottage Immortal Master Xu Tong, along with a group of accompanying cultivators, stood in front of Liu Cong, blocking the attacks at the cost of a talisman golem and the life of one of the accompanying cultivators.

There was nothing they could do. Chen Ping An had exhausted all his means to deal with the eunuch Li Li, and Xu Qingzhou and Xu Tong knew this very well. Therefore, they were prepared for the unpredictable flying swords First and Fifteenth.

Liu Cong fought and retreated, with Xu Qingzhou and Xu Tong always protecting the crown prince.

The remaining cultivators, experienced in battle, tried their best to resist the old hunchback’s attacks, and had to be wary of the short, stocky man in snow-white armor who had not yet made a move.

With two thousand armored soldiers on the mountain, and another three thousand ready to climb up and reinforce them, along with all the accompanying cultivators and the Jianghu experts hired at great expense, Liu Cong didn’t expect that such a lineup would be enough to kill Chen Ping An and his four grandmaster followers, but as long as they killed or seriously injured two or three of them, it would be enough to secure victory.

Zhu Lian at this moment was worthy of his nickname “Martial Madman.”

His entire body was brimming with power from all directions, like a spring, fast as lightning.

At the slightest movement, the accompanying cultivators, with their hidden trump cards for sneak attacks, would instantly sense the danger and accurately avoid it.

When Zhu Lian charged forward, the old hunchback habitually bent over even further, his hands hanging down. Every time he stepped on the ground, no one knew where he would shoot out like an arrow, his movements were simply too fast.

Once, seizing an opportunity, Zhu Lian appeared in front of a middle-aged accompanying cultivator like a ghost, punching through the man’s abdomen. Then, he used the corpse, which died instantly, as a shield to block a slash from Xu Tong’s silver-armored golem. After discarding the corpse, he instantly moved sideways, took a few steps forward, and without even looking, slammed his arm against another accompanying cultivator’s head, shattering it with a bang, turning him into a headless corpse that fell heavily several zhang away.

Wei Xian, wearing one of the eight ancestral Nectar Armor sets, Mount West, reached out to grab the cultivators’ spiritual artifacts that brushed past Zhu Lian. As soon as he caught them, he would either crush them directly or bend them with his hands.

In addition, Bianjun soldiers in armor continued to pour out from both sides of the road.

Wei Xian began to retreat.

Zhu Lian often slapped and kicked, throwing the spiritual artifacts controlled by the cultivators towards Wei Xian. Wei Xian had to fight off the armored soldiers rushing towards the dilapidated temple, and also deal with the debris that Zhu Lian threw.

Far away on the mountain road, Liu Cong, who was trying his best to look at the battlefield, asked with a calm expression, “Are we really going to exhaust my five thousand troops? Pile these guys to death with five thousand lives?”

Xu Qingzhou said in a deep voice, “That’s the only way. Xu Tong and I, as well as the three people that Your Highness arranged in advance, will seize the opportunity to give them a fatal blow during their breathing gaps. We will strive to ensure that these people do not die in vain.”

Liu Cong clenched the saber at his waist, his veins bulging, “Why is the information recorded in the intelligence so different from the strength of these four martial arts grandmasters before our eyes?!”

Immortal Master Xu Tong said bitterly, “Actually, General Xu and I are even more puzzled than Your Highness. We were able to fight our opponents to a draw in the inn. If we were to fight one-on-one tonight, General Xu and I would surely die.”

Liu Cong exhaled a breath of turbid air, “It’s not your fault, it’s that Chen Ping An hid himself too deeply. It doesn’t matter, no matter how heavy our casualties are, we can make up for it from this guy!”

Under the eaves of the dilapidated temple, Chen Ping An looked down at the ancestral hall jade pendant given to him by the young Taoist of Taiping Mountain, hanging on his waist, Chen Ping An fell into deep thought.