Chapter 108: A Lone Battle (Part Three) Seeking countless updates and subscriptions

Ancient Qing River—morning light streamed over the mountain peaks. Usually, it was warm, heralding a fair and peaceful day. Yet now, it sent a chill through Wu Gang and his group. The Crescent Array, stronger under moonlight at night, was comparatively weaker by day.

Wu Gang put his people to use, sending volunteers to scout ahead. By noon, the enemy would surely charge the formation again, so they had to prepare and not respond hastily. Around the talisman barrier, tension thickened among the trees.

“Master Wu, can we hold the line?” Behind Bai Qing stood a sparse group of ten or so, some of them elderly with white hair. “Can we really hold?” he repeated.

Should he give them hope or the harsh truth? Wu Gang, true to his nature, answered plainly, “We cannot hold.”

A dead leaf fell in the morning breeze; the whistling wind only accentuated the eerie silence.

“How… how can that be? You’re here.”

Wu Gang sat cross-legged, eyes closed. “I came not because I can hold, but because I must.”

Fear sprouted in some; their legs gave way and they collapsed, muttering, “It’s over. We’re all going to die here!”

“Damn it!”

“Why doesn’t the Luyang Institute send more cultivators?”

Wu Gang opened his eyes. “The Luyang Institute’s deputy director, with three masters, already guards Xingyuan City. The older graduates have either sacrificed themselves or are scattered among various armies. Just days ago, my fellow disciple—ten times my caliber—was lost wounded in battle against the Left Guardian of the Great Rain Palace; another is missing. Only one remains at Desheng Pass, aiding General He Jiang to hold it. I lost my left arm in that fight.”

He was careful not to mention the transcendent cultivators or the Seventh Princess.

“So, you ask why Luyang Institute doesn’t send more. I tell you, every one of us is fighting.”

“Don’t be reckless, Gezi!” Bai Qing scolded a young man. “Master Wu, tell us what to do. Either way, it’s death—might as well fight the enemy!”

Those at Desheng Pass were tense, and the enemy near Ancient Qing River was even closer.

“There’s nothing to do but take up your weapons and hold your ground.”

Wu Gang closed his eyes again, harboring little hope for these men. If survival was possible, it would come from his breaking through to primal simplicity. Yet what that entailed, he still did not understand.

Bai Qing watched the one-armed cultivator sit quietly, circulating spiritual energy around his body without panic, even with death looming. Moved, he imitated Wu Gang and sat quietly. Most of them entered meditation; he was among the few who remained alert.

To see a guardian of the Luyang Institute was a rare fate indeed.

After Bai Qing sat, the rest followed in small groups, each cultivating in their own way. Spiritual energy began to gather in the area, intertwining in vivid colors with impressive momentum.

Then the enemy from Li Kingdom arrived, as expected.

But the scene shocked two of them inexplicably.

“What’s going on? Yesterday, birds and beasts scattered, but today they gather here. Could Shen Gou have deceived me?”

Only one came from Li Kingdom—not sure if the formation charge required so few or if they assumed Desheng Pass wouldn’t send reinforcements.

A man with two swords strapped to his back, wearing straw sandals, hair falling over his forehead, tall and fair-faced, somewhat handsome.

Hands tucked inside his sleeves, he approached slowly.

As he neared, the Crescent Array faintly activated, humming deeply, startling white birds into flight.

Wu Gang sensed it too.

With a flash, he appeared before the talisman barrier, seeing the man outside the thin spiritual energy membrane.

“Moonlight Shen Gou, sunlight Shen Jian. Only one brother has come, so you must be the Li Army’s Shen Jian.”

“Correct,” the man stamped his feet calmly. “I am Shen Jian. Who might you be?”

“Luyang Institute, Wu Gang.”

“Luyang Institute,” the handsome youth appraised Wu Gang and the many martial men behind him with surprise. “Yesterday, only one stood here. No Luyang Institute. Today, nineteen. That can only mean one thing.”

He pointed forward. “Here lies the Crescent Array’s weakness.”

The people inside gasped.

Wu Gang’s face remained calm. “Shen Gou’s charge here yesterday failed. Now Shen Jian comes to the same spot. You two brothers hardly agree, and since you haven’t changed locations, it means you have already found the array’s weakness.”

“Cultivators judge each other by their blades. Why resort to such crude mind games to unsettle our morale? The Luyang Institute earns respect on the battlefield by charging first. Even if I just arrived, they would follow me. So your words have no effect.”

Shen Jian flicked his hair with a hint of swagger. “I’m Shen Jian of the Li Army, trained in warfare. There’s no talk of blade length here. You must be new—fresh from the academy? Haven’t learned that victory and defeat define heroes on the battlefield?”

“I never sought to be a hero. Tit for tat is only fair. I have a question for you.”

“Go ahead,” Shen Jian replied with a smile.

“There is but one sun in the sky, one king of the land, one master of the home, and one sovereign to respect. In Xu Kingdom, the Yin family holds rightful power; the emperor protects all. We recognize him as our lord. In Li Kingdom, the Li Emperor rules from Xiaqiu City, yet great affairs are decided by the Great Rain Palace. So tell me, does Shen Jian fight for the Li Emperor or the Palace Master? And if you die, for whom do you die?”

Bai Qing and the others silently praised the Luyang Institute man—one who was both a cultivator and versed in history and literature.

Shen Jian was unfazed. “Academy life is too comfortable; I have time to ponder such things.”

He implied Wu Gang was a battlefield novice, lost in irrelevant thoughts.

Wu Gang retorted mockingly, “Another muddled fool.”

That seemed to irritate Shen Jian. His aura exploded outward with strength.

According to General He Jiang’s intelligence, the brothers Shen Gou and Shen Jian were guardian-level cultivators. The elder, Shen Gou, was ruthless; the younger, Shen Jian, was elegant.

In strength, Shen Jian surpassed his brother; in cunning, Shen Gou was far superior.

Thus, Shen Jian was the more willing duelist.

Wu Gang drew his blade and stepped out from the Crescent Array’s spiritual membrane.

He could not remain inside and allow this man to assault the formation unchecked. Both were guardians—how could Luyang Institute be inferior?

“Where the man stands, the formation stands!”

From this moment, he would fight relentlessly to repel every attacker, so the world would know the Luyang Institute had men who would die fighting.

Those words resonated clearly with Bai Qing and the others.

“Yes!”

Shen Jian nodded in admiration. “Brave. I won’t bully you—I’ll fight with one hand, one sword.”

Such a battle between guardian cultivators was rare for the scattered “wild cultivators” throughout the land.

The rising aura chilled the air, sharp as blades, piercing like knives. The terror exuded by these masters paralyzed all but the two combatants.

Crack!

A dry branch beneath them snapped—an unmistakable signal. The attack began.

Wu Gang’s figure blurred, a yellow spiritual aura enveloping his steel blade, tracing a curved arc in the air.

Clang!

The heavy clash of weapons rang out.

“Luck’s on my side; today I have a guardian to spar with.”

Crossing blades, Shen Jian grinned wickedly at Wu Gang.

No sooner had he spoken than his lowered left hand swept upward, gathering energy. A fierce spiritual force surged toward Wu Gang’s waist.

Wielding one arm in battle was unfamiliar to Wu Gang; he retreated swiftly, silently thinking, “That was close!”

“Two snakes in one nest. Your brother’s ruthless, and you’re no better.”

Shen Jian refused the insult. “You may be right about him, but not me. I told you: on the battlefield, victory defines the hero. Winning is all that matters.”

Words were useless; Wu Gang was itching to strike him and smash that handsome face.

Buzz… buzz…

“Hm?” Shen Jian raised an eyebrow, watching Wu Gang gather energy but stand still. Then he noticed Wu Gang’s twisted expression and sensed the cold threat of steel behind him.

Bad!

That was a phantom! This guy’s speed was incredible!

Shen Jian spun frantically, twisting several times before narrowly dodging the blade. His clothes were slashed open.

A thin line of blood trickled from his ribs—he could feel it.

Shen Jian’s face darkened, sweat beading his back. Though large and one-armed, Wu Gang was a guardian, and his speed was no joke.

He had nearly been caught off guard.

Wu Gang calmly turned, right hand crossing with his blade, launching another attack.

This was his strategy. Shen Jian was not his only opponent. If Shen Jian fell, others from Li Kingdom would surely follow.

He was alone.

So prolonged combat was unwise. Quick, lethal strikes were key to survival.

In other words, this was war, not a contest.

“I learn fast, don’t I?”

Shen Jian admitted that Luyang Institute students were not to be underestimated.

“Too bad you failed.”

This time Shen Jian kept more distance, prepared.

“I’ve learned more than that.”

Wu Gang had not been idle these days. He pondered how to fight after losing his left arm. He had relied on strength and heavy blade techniques, fearless against fierce foes.

But now, at a disadvantage against two, he needed speed—in movement and attack.

Whoosh!

He vanished into the dense forest.

This was a special guardian-level battle. They had expected terrain changes or overwhelming force, but now it was not so.

Shen Jian sensed trouble, caution appearing on his handsome face. He planted his sword vertically, hands weaving spiritual energy, crouching slightly. A buzzing aura rose, sword intent manifesting into many blades.

The sharp sound of swords slicing air never ceased. With a heavy stomp, leaves scattered; none could approach him.

Sword intent swirled, dazzling and overwhelming.

Wu Gang stopped, appearing diagonally above Shen Jian.

If he wouldn’t let him close, then he’d try a slash.

His right arm surged with spiritual energy; faint runes crawled along the steel blade. Yellow energy flared, enveloping the blade, forming a wilder, fiercer cutting force.

“That’s a talisman—he’s using a talisman,” Shen Jian observed as he maintained sword intent. Wu Gang’s talisman disrupted his quick-strike plan.

Wu Gang responded by augmenting his blade with spiritual energy and talisman power.

“Using a talisman…”

Battles change in an instant—body, mind, and reflexes all crucial.

“Ah!”

Wu Gang poured energy into the strike. The surge stirred Shen Jian slightly.

Boom!

A massive ocher blade seemed to claim the earth itself, descending with overwhelming might.

Shen Jian intended to block but hesitated—Wu Gang’s talisman use made him waver.

At the crucial moment, instinct took over. He withdrew sword intent and sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the blow. Wu Gang’s massive energy expenditure was wasted.

Boom! Boom!

The fierce blade crashed down, severing ancient trees tens of yards away. The brilliant light outpaced the shockwave.

Bai Qing and others shielded their eyes, already shocked by normal battle, now stunned by such destructive power from a guardian.

Shen Jian was momentarily blinded by the glow, then suddenly sensed mortal danger!

That speed!

His reactions were not slow; he was also a guardian, feeling the spiritual fluctuations nearby. Yet even as he leapt to higher ground, sharp pain in his back told him it was too late.

Wu Gang’s strike was deliberate. He had been tracking Shen Jian’s movements throughout.

Slash!

The sound of blade biting flesh, followed by Shen Jian’s stifled cry as his body crashed to the ground.

All culminating in a thunderous impact.

Whoosh!

Wu Gang’s figure streaked like a falling star, panting heavily. The attack had drained much energy.

Before him lay dust raised by Shen Jian’s fall.

After a moment, Wu Gang looked up, eyes gleaming with exhilaration and bloodlust.

The blade had struck his back—no doubt.

“Victory?”

“Have we won?”