Nightwatcher

# 227. The Sacrifice

The sounds of battle erupted immediately as the Huben Guards and the traitors from the Five Cities garrison clashed outside. The twang of bowstrings, the crack of muskets, and the clash of swords echoed clearly in everyone's ears.

With rebels outside and a Warlock of Dreams nearby, the situation seemed hopeless. The Nightwatchers' faces turned grim as their hearts sank.

Fortunately, they were all experienced Nightwatchers, accustomed to bloodshed and slaughter, and their minds remained resolute.

"Escort Gold Gong Jiang and the Inspector General into the inner hall," Silver Gong Zhao shouted, drawing his sword.

Jiang Lyuzhong grabbed Zhao's sleeve, wanting to say something, but Zhao spoke first.

"Boss, I understand. Dream Warlocks aren't skilled in close combat. As long as we avoid giving him hair or flesh, he can't use his curse techniques."

Silver Gong Tang grinned, "Yeah, boss. We can't beat a Fourth Grade warrior, but we can't handle a Fourth Grade Warlock of Dreams? That would be too embarrassing."

Seeing their superiors so confident, the Bronze Gongs relaxed slightly.

To their surprise, Jiang Lyuzhong didn't let go. This usually godlike Gold Gong could barely stand, yet he still clung tightly to Zhao's sleeve.

"Go!" Jiang Lyuzhong said.

Zhao turned back and grinned, "Boss, you want us to take the Inspector General and leave, but we can't do that."

Jiang Lyuzhong shook his head, "You can't escape with the Inspector General. I'm telling you to go."

"Gold Gong Jiang, how do we know we'll lose if we don't fight?" a Bronze Gong shouted, trying to encourage himself.

Silver Gong Zhao jerked his sleeve back, causing Jiang Lyuzhong to stumble.

Silver Gong Tang caught him and sighed, "When we get back to the capital, boss, you owe us a drink."

The last Silver Gong said nothing, only clasped his fists towards Jiang Lyuzhong.

Zhao raised his sword with one hand and his crossbow with the other, pulling the trigger. The bowstring twanged, and the arrow shot out.

Thwack, thwack, thwack...

The other Nightwatchers followed suit, lifting their crossbows to shoot.

The transformed coroner, now a puppet, roared and blocked the arrows for the prefect. The arrows pierced his body, the tips protruding from his back.

"Die!"

Silver Gong Zhao leaped high, the limestone bricks cracking underfoot, and flew over fifty metres. The air around his sabre twisted with energy.

Slash!

The puppet was cut in half, blood spurting and trying to reassemble, but failing.

The Warlock of Dreams-prefect dodged the blade's edge, the sharp energy tearing the ground, extending to the steps at the hall entrance with a loud bang.

The other two Silver Gongs' attacks followed, sprinting low and dragging shadows, coordinating to strike at the Warlock of Dreams.

As they attacked, information about the warlock system flashed in their minds.

The Great Feng occasionally clashed with the Church of the Warlock God. Information on warlocks below and including Fourth Grade was detailed in the Nightwatchers' archives.

Ninth rank warlocks could turn living people into puppets, using secret techniques to burn their own blood, giving ordinary people immense strength. The more power they gained, the faster their blood burned until they died.

They could also boost their companions' potential at the cost of burning blood, earning the name "Blood Spirits."

Eighth rank warlocks mastered curses, using birthdates, horoscopes, personal items, and bodily fluids to kill targets. They were called "Master of Curses."

Their strength was in their mysteriousness, making them hard to guard against.

Their weakness was that they could only curse targets weaker than themselves.

Seventh rank warlocks, known as "Spirit Mediums," could control corpses and spirits. Both the Great Feng and northern Yao tribes suffered at the hands of Spirit Mediums on the battlefield.

Sixth rank warlocks, called "Masters of Divination," excelled in divination, avoiding misfortune. The warlocks of this rank could be described by one word: cautious!

Fifth rank warlocks, "Miracle Priests," could summon ancestral war spirits to possess them. If the spirit was a warrior, the priest became a warrior, and so on.

The restriction was that they could only summon spirits of the same rank.

Fourth Grade warlocks, like the prefect, were "Warlock of Dreams," able to walk in dreams and kill invisibly. The best way to deal with them was to avoid sleeping.

"Don't give him time to set up a ritual or summon a war spirit, and we can win!" Zhao encouraged himself.

Suddenly, he heard a murmuring voice and turned sharply. An overlooked official was cutting his wrist, drawing a complex pattern with blood on the ground while chanting obscure syllables.

Zhao's heart sank.

The next moment, a strong energy emerged from the prefect, a wisp of black smoke forming above his head, vaguely resembling a human figure.

Simultaneously, the two Silver Gongs' blades struck.

The blades cut the prefect's clothes, clashing against his skin with a metallic sound. The black smoke above him wavered.

Bronze Skin and Iron Bones.

"Who said only warlocks could set up rituals? Puppets can too," the Warlock of Dreams-prefect sneered, grabbing the two Silver Gongs by the neck.

With a "crack," both Silver Gongs died instantly.

A fourth rank warrior killing two Silver Gongs was as easy as crushing ants.

"Bastard!"

A heart-wrenching roar came from the hall, like an old beast's desperate howl.

It was Jiang Lyuzhong, his eyes red and face twisted with helpless anger.

The surviving Bronze Gongs were terrified, finally realising that the Silver Gongs had just been boosting morale.

Warlocks might not be good at close combat, but a Fourth rank was still a Fourth rank, an insurmountable gap. Their lack of close combat was relative to other systems of the same grade.

"Are you scared?"

Zhao shouted, jolting the Bronze Gongs.

At that moment, this Silver Gong, proficient in all vices, still held his battle blade high, like a warrior facing death calmly.

"Two sticks of incense. We need to buy Gold Gong Jiang two sticks of incense's time. It's still early," Zhao shouted.

"Riffraff."

But reality was harsh. The Warlock of Dreams disguised as the prefect raised his hand, gathering energy in his palm, and pressed down.

A shockwave spread through the air like ripples.

Zhao and the other Nightwatchers were hit in the chest, spitting blood as they flew back.

With a single move, the Warlock of Dreams incapacitated them all.

Jiang Lyuzhong seemed to expect this, closing his eyes. He was no longer angry, knowing they would soon meet in another world.

The Warlock of Dreams clenched his fist, knowing his time with the war spirit was limited. He didn't intend to waste words with Jiang Lyuzhong.

The real task lay ahead: taking Baidi City, gathering bandits, attacking prefectures, and counties, and conquering Yunzhou before the court could react.

The Church of the Warlock God had plotted for years; today was the day to reap the rewards.

A punch roared out, qi battering the air, producing a deep, frightening roar, aimed at the hall.

A figure stood in the way—Silver Gong Zhao. He gripped his long sword with both hands, lowered his stance, and slashed out with a roar.

It was the most powerful slash of his life.

Sword qi collapsed, the long sabre shattered, the silver gong at his chest breaking into a myriad pieces. The frightening surge of energy pushed Silver Gong Zhao into the great hall, as the entire building shook.

Jiang Lyuzhong's heart also trembled as he hurriedly crawled over and cradled his dying subordinate in his arms.

The moment he touched Silver Gong Zhao, Jiang Lyuzhong knew there was no hope of saving him. Every bone in his body was shattered, and his internal organs were equally devastated.

Perhaps the Sitianjian had miraculous cures that could bring back the dead, but there were none in Yunzhou.

The only reason Silver Gong Zhao hadn't died immediately was likely due to the last stubbornness of a martial artist.

Silver Gong Zhao had always been a very stubborn person, often acting against Jiang Lyuzhong's orders, just as he had forcefully shaken off his hand earlier.

"Do you have any last words?" Jiang Lyuzhong asked softly.

Silver Gong Zhao's bloodied face forced a smile, his mouth full of blood, and he spoke haltingly, “Boss, actually, I took another concubine this year, she's eighteen, so young and tender.

“But I was afraid you'd find out, so I didn't keep her at home. You often summon us Silver Gongs for meetings and repeatedly order that we can't embezzle more than five hundred taels a year, extort more than ten cents from peddlers, or more than three cash from shops and taverns.

“You know, we secretly laugh at you, for setting rules even for corruption. There's no one else like you in the whole world. On the surface, we follow your orders, but behind your back, we embezzle as we please. How else could we afford so many concubines? Sorry, Boss, for disappointing you.

"So, don't be sad for people like us. According to the rules set by Duke Wei, I should be dragged to the marketplace and beheaded.

“Old Tang likes to drink. If you survive, remember to pour him a few extra cups every Qingming.

"And one last request... I don't want to die in a foreign land, take me back to the capital."

The light in Silver Gong Zhao's eyes faded.

"Aye!" Inspector Zhang sighed deeply, blaming himself, "It's my fault, I was careless..."

"What's the use of saying that now?"

Jiang Lyuzhong said this with a smile, but the sorrow in his eyes couldn't be hidden, flowing out as hot tears.

The Warlock of Dreams walked over slowly, laughing heartily, “To be honest, we didn't plan to split Yunzhou, support bandits, and hoard troops. It was just a contingency plan, to be used at the most critical time, not now.

“Though that guy surnamed Zhou discovered the account book issue, according to our plan, we would have just pushed Yang Chuannan out to take the blame.

“I didn't expect the Qi Clique to be so foolish, exposing our cooperation. They drew you here.

“What surprised me even more was that a mere Bronze Gong managed to disrupt my plans to this extent. I had no choice but to attack you, to prematurely occupy Yunzhou. Blame that Bronze Gong if you must, if it weren't for him ruining things, you wouldn't have to die.

"Now, you go first. I'll find that Bronze Gong and kill him."

As soon as he finished speaking, two arrows flew towards him. The Warlock of Dreams raised his hand and shattered the arrows.

On the wall, a tall and proud Bronze Gong stood, holding a military crossbow given by Song Qing of the Sitianjian. But now, it was just a normal weapon.

It could only be fired three times in its lifetime.

"‘That Bronze Gong’ — Is my name so worthless to you?"

He had blood on him, but it wasn't his own. He had fought his way here.

Xu Qi'an finished speaking, his gaze falling on the two dead Silver Gongs and the injured Bronze Gongs. The playful and mischievous air he usually had suddenly vanished.

His eyes darkened, his face expressionless.

...

At the West Gate, a silver light descended from the sky, striking the city wall with a loud crash, sending bricks flying and dust rising.

Wearing fish-scale armor, her hair tied in a high ponytail, with a crimson cloak billowing behind her, Li Miaozhen stood on the spear shaft, staring at the soldiers ready to shoot.

She said in a deep voice, "Why is the gate closed?"

*Number Three... That bastard Xu Qi'an was right, the gate was indeed closed.* But Li Miaozhen didn't recklessly break in, she landed on the wall to question them.

"Kill her!" A commander drew his sword and pointed at Li Miaozhen.

They didn't explain, just attacked.

There was nothing more to say. Li Miaozhen's eyes turned cold.

The bowstrings twanged, and dozens of arrows shot towards her.

She didn't dodge. With a flick of her hand, a gust of wind emerged from her bag, wrapping around the arrows and altering their paths.

The arrows brushed past Li Miaozhen, turning the archers into outline artists.

"Clang!"

The flying sword at Li Miaozhen's waist unsheathed, transforming into a silver lightning that darted through the necks of the soldiers, reaping their lives.

The sound of hooves echoed, and the Flying Swallow Army charged, kicking up clouds of dust.

Four centurions of the Bronze-Skin Iron-Bones realm led the Refining Spirit realm officers onto the wall, assisting Li Miaozhen's flying sword in clearing the soldiers.

"Master, you haven't used the flying sword for a long time..." The female ghost Susu floated down onto the spear shaft, hugging Li Miaozhen from behind.

The flying sword was a weapon given to Li Miaozhen by the Heaven Sect. She rarely used it, but every time she did, it meant she was in a very bad mood.

"I'm very angry," Li Miaozhen said.

"Because the Inspector was ambushed?"

"No, because of a bastard."

"....."

Susu frowned, hesitant to speak. Had Li Miaozhen forgotten she was the Holy Maiden of the Heaven Sect? The Heaven Sect's principle was to be free of emotions, but in the years since she descended the mountain, Li Miaozhen had become more impulsive and fiercely opposed to injustice.

She had turned herself into the righteous Lady Flying Swallow.

The title Lady Flying Swallow partly came from her flying sword's swiftness, and partly from her righteous nature. Wherever there was injustice, she would fly there.

The Flying Swallow Army once again demonstrated their unbeatable prowess, swiftly clearing the wall and then breaking open the gate under the lead of a bronze skin iron bones martial artist.

Li Miaozhen leaped down, pulling out the spear, and with it, landed on the ground.

Under her lead, the Flying Swallow Army stormed into the city.

...

"Heaven had a path for you laid out, yet you decided to break into hell instead" The Warlock of Dreams laughed after a brief moment of shock.

Xu Qi'an leaped down, holding the black-gold long blade given to him by the Jianzheng, gritting his teeth, "The one who should go to hell is you, you son of a bitch."

"Xu Ningyan, why are you here?" Jiang Lyuzhong's face changed, "Are you here to die? You can't save us, go, leave now."

*Do you think I still can*... Xu Qi'an thought to himself.

He really couldn't leave. The Warlock of Dreams had locked onto him, preparing to strike.

"Ningyan, why..." Inspector Zhang closed his eyes, "Why do this?"

Xu Qi'an wasn't panicking, he was communicating with the monk in his heart:

"Master, help me kill this person."

"Master?"

"Damn it, Master, are you there? Don't mess with me now."

"Master, damn it..."

The fist wind came roaring, the sound of thunder in his ears.

At this moment, a sigh echoed through the hall: "Picking the stars with the moon in hand, there are none like me upon this land."

Under Xu Qi'an's feet, a formation lit up, raising a translucent barrier.

"Boom!"

The qi exploded on the surface of the barrier, the blast was deafening, and the stone bricks on the ground lifted instantly, creating a terrifying scene.

Half of the Prefect Manor hall collapsed with a rumble.

After a long ringing in his ears, Xu Qi'an heard Jiang Lyuzhong's roar, "Yang Qianhuan, you're also in Yunzhou! Why did you stand by and watch, why didn’t you act earlier?"

Xu Qi'an turned abruptly and saw a figure in white standing with his hands behind his back, facing away from them.

Xu Qi'an wasn’t surprised by Yang Qianhuan's appearance, he just wanted to say, "You motherfucker, you finally showed up."

Xu Qi'an had long suspected that the arcanist who had abducted Liang Youping was one of Sitianjian's senior brothers, most likely Yang Qianhuan.

Sure enough.

*In my life, I, Yang, never need to explain my actions to others.* This thought flashed through Yang Qianhuan's mind, but he didn't say it aloud. Instead, he sighed and explained, "I came to Yunzhou under the orders of my master. I was not here just now."

The Jianzheng had tasked him with: Keeping an eye on Xu Qi'an.

Wherever Xu Qi'an was, he would be.

He wasn’t present when the Silver Gongs were killed.

"I'll take you away," Yang Qianhuan's footwork expanded, enveloping Xu Qi'an, Inspector Zhang, and others.

"Hmph!"

The Warlock of Dreams shattered the formation with a single step, "Yang Qianhuan, you are not qualified to save people from me."

Yang Qianhuan responded, "Picking the stars with the moon in hand, there are none like me upon this land."

"Arrogant!" The Warlock of Dreams' goat whisker beard trembled as if enraged.

"Go or not?" Yang Qianhuan's voice rang in Xu Qi'an's ears, "I can only take you, too many people will cause the formation to break."

Xu Qi'an grinned, "There's another way, take this guy out."

"There are hundreds of rebels outside." Yang Qianhuan warned.

"I know." Xu Qi'an replied.

After a brief silence, Yang Qianhuan said, "Alright."

He stomped hard, the formation quickly spread, this time enveloping only the Warlock of Dreams. Just as the Warlock reacted, the two disappeared.

"Fight outside of the city." Xu Qi'an shouted to the sky.

There was no reply.

Xu Qi'an brought the bodies of the two Silver Gongs into the hall and gently placed them at Jiang Lyuzhong's feet, "Sorry, I was late."

"You shouldn't have come." Jiang Lyuzhong said in a low voice.

*But I still came...* Xu Qi'an wanted to make a joke, but the words turned into a bitter smile.

The Bronze Gongs helped each other into the inner hall, sitting down to meditate and heal.

Jiang Lyuzhong glanced at the surviving Bronze Gongs, feeling somewhat relieved, but the faint sounds of fighting outside were ending, making him realise they weren’t out of danger yet.

"What's the situation outside?" Inspector Zhang looked towards the hall entrance.

"Probably four or five hundred rebels left. When I fought my way in, the Huben Guards were almost wiped out."

The Bronze Gongs opened their eyes wide, their expressions filled with despair.

"Forget it, forget it..." Inspector Zhang laughed bitterly, "It seems there's no escape, I have failed the emperor and Duke Wei's trust."

"You didn't fail them, you failed these three dead Silver Gongs." Xu Qi'an glanced at him, then walked to the threshold.

"Ningyan, go. With your strength, you can escape from the back hall." Jiang Lyuzhong, eyes red, urged, "Go, go quickly. Today, I will die here with my subordinates. If you die here, Duke Wei will dig up my grave."

"There’s hope. As long as we hold on, reinforcements will come." Xu Qi'an could already see the figures of the rebels, they were making their way closer.

He turned back, bowing to Inspector Zhang, "Inspector General Sir, you are a good official, even though you have your own schemes, you put the people first. I hate this world, but seeing good officials like you makes me happy. So I don’t want you to die."

Then he bowed to Jiang Lyuzhong, "You are a good superior, a master of drinking and flowers at Jiaofangsi. If there’s a chance, I'll take you to Jiaofangsi again, any oiran except Fuxiang, of course."

He looked at the bodies of the three Silver Gongs, "No matter what kind of people they were in life, at least in death, they didn’t disgrace the Nightwatcher title."

Finally, he cupped his fists above his head, "Duke Wei has treated me with great kindness, favoring me everywhere. I can't charge forward in times of benefit and hide in times of danger."

With that, he closed the hall door.

Jiang Lyuzhong was moved, hoarsely shouting, "Ningyan!"

A Bronze Gong’s lips trembled, murmuring, "It's impossible, impossible, he’s breaking through to Refining Spirit, he can’t hold on…."

Inspector Zhang struggled to stand, weak as he was, but he stood firmly, bowing deeply towards Xu Qi'an's back.

They couldn't see what was happening outside, but amidst the sounds of crossbows firing, weapons clashing, and chaotic shouts, a young, impassioned chant reached them:

*A young man’s valour, brings heroes from five capitals old!*

“*With loyal heart, with just hand. With words of iron, life or death,*

“*A promise is worth a thousand tons of gold!*”

…..

Xu Qi'an stood by the courtyard entrance, as his blade rose and fell, rose and fell… when a rebel soldier came, he cut them down.

Armor seemed like paper against the Jianzheng's long sabre alone flesh and blood.

At first, he felt uneasy, terrified by the blood on his hands, but after killing many, he became numb.

The rebels were mostly ordinary people, with a few Refining Vitality experts. For Xu Qi'an, who was half a step into Refining Spirit, there wasn't much difference.

But the endless waves of enemies, coupled with his poor state, wore him down. After slaying dozens, Xu Qi'an became exhausted, his stomach churned, and his arms went numb.

The most troublesome were the crossbows, their dense volleys impossible to block with a single blade.

Fortunately, the magic bronze gong on his chest protected him from most attacks, leaving the rest to his reflexes.

After beheading fifty enemies, Xu Qi'an reached his first limit. His vitality depleted, vision blurred, and he felt on the verge of collapse.

Yet, pushing through this limit, he found to his surprise his dry pool of vitality suddenly welled up with newfound energy, nourishing his spirit.

The surroundings became clearer, every detail of the soldiers' faces, their taut muscles, the arcs of their swinging swords... all vividly imprinted in his mind.

*…Is this the Refining Spirit stage, perceiving everything around?*

*No, not yet, I can push further.*

*From death comes rebirth!*

Xu Qi'an suddenly understood Shenshu’s meaning.

The relentless exhaustion of the primordial spirit itself is a kind of rebirth from death. But it is not enough. If the primordial spirit is likened to an iron billet, an ordinary warrior advancing to the Refining Spirit stage is like striking the hammer once.

Xu Qi'an, however, was repeatedly hammering, tempering his primordial spirit, breaking through the limits on the edge of life and death each time.

After beheading a hundred people, he faced the limit again. After forcing himself through, new springs gushed forth, and his spiritual power advanced rapidly once more.

*No, I can't hold on much longer... Damn monk, I'm leaving my life to you, don't trick me... There are still many beautiful girls waiting for me in the capital...*

After slaying two hundred people, the new springs stopped gushing forth.

Because Xu Qi’an had reached his limit.

Because the exhaustion had caught up with him.

The rapid growth of the spirit had nothing to do with the physical body. Each time he exhausted his spirit, he also exhausted his body. The spirit could well, but the body could not.

Finally, this god of death laid down his blade, leaning on its slender form.

The rebels did not dare continue. Their swords were tightly gripped, their expressions twisted, cautious, scared.

Scared of what he had just done.

"Shoot him with crossbows," a loud voice shouted from the crowd.

Thrum... The bowstrings vibrated, and crossbow bolts shot out. Whether due to exhaustion or tension, the bolt that was aimed at Xu Qi'an's forehead missed, grazing his scalp.

But the rebels cheered.

"He's dead, he's dead... Hahaha, this bastard is finally dead!"

"Chop him up, chop him up to avenge our brothers."

They surged forward.

At this moment, a flying sword pierced through the air, slicing through the crowd and killing the soldiers at the forefront.

Immediately after, four warriors like deities broke through the wall, leading a group of armored soldiers into the courtyard.

At this time, the rebels still had over three hundred people, but against this heavenly army, they fared no better than chaff. Lives were harvested one by one, and soldiers fell, the thick smell of blood making people nauseous.

The Flying Swallow Army, after clearing the rebels, witnessed an unforgettable scene.

At the courtyard entrance, a young man stood proudly, his body full of arrows, standing on a mountain of corpses, leaning on his sword.

Lifeless.

Li Miaozhen, cloaked in crimson, stood in front of him, her figure seeming somewhat desolate.

Full of resentment and anger, Li Miaozhen had imagined that when they met again, she would fiercely teach him a lesson. But now, she felt a lump in her throat.

Li Miaozhen, with reddening eyes, said, "I'm sorry, I came late."

"Miaozhen..."

A centurion walked over, but his gaze lingered on Xu Qi'an.

Clang... He stood straight, his armor clinking as he cupped his fists towards Xu Qi'an.

Clang, clang... The sound of armor clinking spread as over four hundred Flying Swallow soldiers cupped their fists in unison.

They didn't even know who this young man was or what his name was, but they respected him from the bottom of their hearts.

"Go in and see if the Inspector is alive or dead," Li Miaozhen's voice was somewhat hollow.

"Yes!"

The centurion bypassed Xu Qi'an and rushed into the courtyard.

In the crowd, the stunningly beautiful Su Su stood quietly in the corner, staring blankly at Xu Qi'an.

"Are you an idiot…."

…..

Bang...

The centurion pushed open the door, seeing the Nightwatchers sitting cross-legged on the ground and the pale but unharmed Inspector Zhang.

Despair was evident on their faces.

The centurion was stunned and quickly said, "I am Li Hu, a centurion of the Flying Swallow Army. You are safe now."

Flying Swallow Army?!

The Nightwatchers looked at each other, puzzled as to why the Flying Swallow Army appeared here, but the sounds of fighting outside had indeed ceased.

They were safe.

A reprieve from the brink of death.

"Whew..." Inspector Zhang staggered, finally relaxing his tense nerves. He had to lean on the table to keep from falling.

"Where is Ningyan...?" Inspector Zhang asked, "Where is that Bronze Gong outside?"

The surviving Nightwatchers all looked over.

The centurion suddenly felt evasive, not daring to meet their eyes, filled with hope and longing for good news.

"He... died in battle."

……

Inspector Zhang stumbled out of the hall, crossed the courtyard, and came to Xu Qi'an.

But what he saw was only a broken human form, covered in arrows and blade wounds, without any sign of life.

Inexplicably, he heard the young man's final chant in his ears:

*A young man’s valour, brings heroes from five capitals old!*

*With loyal heart, with just hand. With words of iron, life or death,*

*A promise is worth a thousand tons of gold!*

At this moment, the Inspector collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down his face.

…

Outside the City

Rows of bed ballista fired, the sound of bowstrings echoing sharply, and cannons roared, their thunderous booms deafening.

At Yang Qianhuan's feet, various formations and patterns lit up, each with different functions. Sometimes they enveloped arrows in a whirlwind, increasing their penetration or altering their trajectory to pursue enemies.

Other times they summoned flames, enhancing the explosion of cannonballs. Occasionally, they purely summoned heavenly lightning to strike down enemies.

"I am proficient in thirty-six types of formations, twenty of which are offensive techniques. Killing you, a mere ant, is just a flick of my finger," Yang Qianhuan sneered. "But if you take back what you said earlier…"

"What did I say?"

The Warlock of Dreams, who had summoned battle spirits several times, looked dishevelled. Despite his unparalleled combat power, he could not touch Yang Qianhuan, who had mastered teleportation formations.

"You said earlier that I'm not qualified to save someone from your hands. Man, you have successfully ignited my anger."

"What if I take it back? What if I don't?"

"If you take it back, I'll leave your body intact. If you don't, I'll turn you to ashes. You warlocks aren't good at killing, the battlefield where corpses pile up is the domain of warlocks. As for here, I'm in charge."

"If I want to leave, you can't stop me."

The Warlock of Dreams struck a cannonball from afar, causing it to explode. He was pushed back by the intense blast wave, blood seeping from the corners of his mouth.

"Now Inspector Zhang and Jiang Lyuzhong are dead. When the amassed troops in the mountains arrive, you'll have no choice but to slink back to the capital."

At this point, the Warlock of Dreams suddenly felt a pang of unease. He furrowed his brows, retreating while calculating with his fingers.

For a diviner, such unease signified an omen.

"How is this possible…" The Warlock of Dreams exclaimed in shock.

He had sensed danger, a danger originating from Jiang Lyuzhong. However, Jiang Lyuzhong was supposed to be dead with no signs of life.

Before taking action, he had divined an omen which indicated that everything would go smoothly today. But now, everything had changed.

The omen now showed a sign of great misfortune.

Who had obscured heavenly secrets?

Boom Boom Boom…

At the edge of the horizon, a figure came running wildly. One moment he was in the distant sky, the next he was close at hand.

It was Jiang Lyuzhong, his face twisted, his eyes blood-red.

The violent aura surged like tidal waves, announcing the boundless fury of its owner.

…

Post Station, Main Hall

Song Tingfeng and Zhu Guangxiao were guarding the main hall, with only one Bronze Gong left upstairs to watch the prisoner.

Their sabres were placed on the table, neither speaking, sitting in silent stillness. This atmosphere had persisted for half an hour.

Suddenly, their ears twitched simultaneously, hearing the rumbling sound of wheels stopping at the post station entrance.

Song Tingfeng and Zhu Guangxiao grabbed their sabres and rushed out, seeing Inspector Zhang, the Bronze Gongs, and Li Miaozhen with her high ponytail.

Their faces were etched with sorrow, silent and speechless.

"Where is Xu Qi'an? Where is Xu Qi'an?" Song Tingfeng looked around in the crowd, not seeing his colleague.

"Outside," a Bronze Gong said softly.

Song Tingfeng's heart sank. He rushed out desperately, and then he saw Xu Qi'an in the carriage outside the post station.

His face was covered with a robe, but Song Tingfeng recognised him by the unique sabre.

Song Tingfeng reached out, trembling, and pulled off the robe.

Half an hour ago, his companion had been full of life. Now, there was no expression, forever gone.

Song Tingfeng stood there, head lowered, perhaps for five or six seconds. Suddenly, he cried out, a heart-wrenching wail.

"Condolences…" a Bronze Gong approached, tears in his eyes.

"Get lost!" Zhu Guangxiao kicked him away.

Song Tingfeng was still wailing, "To hell with your condolences, my brother is gone, and you tell me condolences… Give me back my brother, give me back my brother…"

…

In the hazy world, Xu Qi'an saw the small temple again, and inside sat a handsome young monk.

"Master…" Xu Qi'an said in grief and anger, "I seem to be dead. I want to greet all the women in your family, is that convenient?"

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