The knights, enraged and astonished, felt the core of their innate ferocity rise; rather than retreating, they charged forward recklessly, determined only to kill Li Muzhan. They worshipped the Celestial Gods; warriors who died in battle were ushered to the heavens by the gods, becoming undying War Souls, which is why every one of them fought without regard for death.

They had believed in the Celestial Gods since childhood; their sole ambition was to become War Souls for the gods. Nothing in the mortal realm could sway them, lest they fall into the Nine Hells after death, never to be reborn.

Thus, the knights of Eastern Chu never feared death; rather, they feared showing cowardice and failing to enter the Celestial Realm. Li Muzhan reined in his steed, Chiying, which wheeled around, drifting into the midst of their ranks like a wisp of smoke.

The Ke Rain followed behind Chiying, falling swiftly before they could block it. Li Muzhan swung the Flying Dragon Spear; a flicker of cold light shot out, slicing across the throats of the knights, one by one.

...................................................... He slew another fifty-odd knights in one breath.

Their leader was dead, and their eyes were bloodshot, driven by only one thought: "Kill." There was absolutely no concept of retreat. As Li Muzhan wielded the Flying Dragon Spear, he mused that while the elite cavalry of Eastern Chu were indeed formidable and fearless—a terrifying opponent—they were not without weakness.

Their vulnerability lay in their command structure; once the commander was gone, they instantly devolved into scattered, disorganized soldiers, knowing only how to fight fiercely but not how to advance or retreat strategically. On the battlefield, once the leader was eliminated, dealing with the rest became simpler: overwhelming force with superior numbers, using wisdom against brute courage—they were certainly not invincible.

This realization quickly expanded, bringing forth a full plan: when facing the Eastern Chu cavalry in the future, the first step must be to eliminate their leader. His current party was here specifically to deal with this cavalry, and a confrontation was inevitable.

Therefore, his most crucial asset was the Ke technique, ensuring a single, lethal blow, striking from a long distance, unseen and unheard. Otherwise, with layers of guards protecting the commander, killing him would be exceedingly difficult.

Moreover, such an action could only succeed once; if they became wary, attempting it again would be nearly impossible. He employed multiple minds at once, slaughtering the Eastern Chu knights while simultaneously contemplating a solution: how to perfect his Ke arts to achieve absolute stealth.

Before he could fully formulate a countermeasure, his hands suddenly felt empty, and the space around him was clear. Over a hundred cavalrymen were annihilated; not one survivor, not one escapee.

Seated atop Chiying, he surveyed the ground, where the fallen knights lay layered one upon another like fallen petals, shaking his head with a sigh. Though they were the enemy, he admired their sheer ferocity.

After the sigh, he urged Chiying with his legs. The mount let out a soft whinny and dissolved into shadow, instantly appearing before the remaining fifty-odd cavalrymen.

Before they could react, shafts of Zhou Arrows pierced the air. Each Ke Arrow found its target precisely, piercing the throat and extinguishing life.

Their eyes widened in disbelief, staring fixedly at Li Muzhan, before slowly falling from their saddles. ................................................

Over a hundred youths watched, their expressions numb, as the knights tumbled from their horses, convulsed on the ground, and finally drew their last breath. There was no change in their eyes—still utterly vacant.

Li Muzhan sat on his horse, watching them intently for a moment, then shook his head, pity stirring in his heart. He retrieved his bow and arrows, gracefully dismounted, transforming into a puff of light smoke.

He swept past each youth in turn, tapping their backs and channeling a stream of true Qi. This Qi, thick and mellow as aged wine, circled their bodies before settling.

They instantly felt enveloped by a warm essence, as if submerged in a hot spring, bringing an immediate lift to their spirits. Faint murmurs reached their ears—whispers they could not comprehend in meaning, yet every word resonated like a pearl dropped into their minds, driving away the gloom of their hearts and restoring light.

After an indeterminate time—perhaps an instant, perhaps an eon—they suddenly opened their eyes, fully invigorated, looking left and right with expressions of profound wonder. It was as if they had woken from a nightmare: their homeland destroyed by the men of Eastern Chu, they had been captured, subjected to endless torment, watching elder after elder fall, consumed by grief and despair, praying to the Buddha to no avail, with no one coming to their rescue.

Later, everything blurred; they were driven westward like dogs or swine, tied up, with no idea where they were headed. Midway, a monk seemed to appear, clashing with the Eastern Chu cavalry.

He was only one man, seemingly offering himself for sacrifice; having witnessed so much death, one more passing was no great matter. Waking as if from a profound dream, they looked around again to see a gray-robed monk standing with palms pressed together, eyes closed, his expression solemn and sacred, seemingly ringed by three halos of light—as if the Buddha himself had descended.

His murmured words, each like a pearl, entered their ears slowly and clearly, sinking straight into their very cores. Their inner fields grew warm, as if they had returned to a mother’s embrace.

All the pain, fear, despair, resentment, and anger slowly dissolved, like the gentle caress of a mother’s warm hand, soothing away every grievance. They looked at those around them and saw that everyone else was weeping.

Tears slid down their cheeks, a trickle of coldness reaching their core. They wiped their eyes only to realize that they, too, were crying.

Li Muzhan slowly opened his eyes. His gaze was as clear and pure as spring water, without a speck of impurity, falling upon them as if he could see into their very souls.

Having experienced such turmoil, Li Muzhan had comprehended compassion: all things are subject to birth and death; birth and death are suffering; all sentient beings suffer. Compassion arises from benevolence, and benevolence from compassion.

His understanding of Buddhism deepened, his grasp of the sutras grew stronger, and his spiritual realm ascended. This recitation of sutras carried the power to soothe human hearts.

Even if an ordinary monk possessed similar insight and compassion, his chanting would lack this potency. Li Muzhan’s spiritual mind was powerful, his mental energy immense, making it effortless to influence others.

................................................ ...

A youth, tears still tracking down his face, slowly stepped forward and knelt before Li Muzhan, performing a full prostration, clasping his hands reverently. "Master..." Though his attire was tattered and worn, Li Muzhan was certain that this young man was either noble or wealthy.

The ruined robes were of incredibly fine material, rare and exquisite in origin. He possessed an oval face and delicate features, giving him a slightly feminine appearance at first glance, but his small eyes were sharp, piercing, and resolute, clearly indicating a tenacity of will far surpassing ordinary men.

Seeing him kneel, the others followed, kneeling as well, clasping their hands, their expressions utterly devout. In their moment of utter despair and helplessness, they had witnessed the boundless light of Buddhist Dharma and instantly became fervent believers.

Li Muzhan slowly brought his own palms together and sighed, "Please rise, esteemed benefactors. I arrived too late, causing you to endure such great suffering and infinite tribulation." The youth clasped his hands respectfully.

"Master is the very emissary sent by the Buddha to rescue us!" Li Muzhan shook his head, smiling faintly. "Benefactor flatters me.

I am merely a common soldier in the army; protecting the people of Dayen is my duty... Meeting you all this time was purely the work of fate.

All of this is Yuan (Karma/Destiny)." "The Master is a soldier?" The youth started, his small eyes flickering. He wiped away the tears at the corners of his eyes and stared steadily at Li Muzhan, filled with disbelief.

Li Muzhan nodded, smiling gently. "I was originally a monk; my Dharma name is Mingkong.

I entered the army under my Master's command to temper myself through life and death, to shatter great terror." The crowd grew solemn with respect. For an ordained monk not to cultivate quietly in a temple but instead to personally experience life and death to break through the fear of mortality—this was the mark of a true spiritual practitioner, worthy of veneration.

Furthermore, the monk’s recent chanting had deeply etched the image of a great sage into their hearts. As men of status, they had met many great Buddhist figures, and Mingkong’s sutra recitation was unquestionably the most marvelous among them.

What was even more remarkable was that Master Mingkong, being so young, possessed such profound Buddhist understanding and such vast compassion. He was truly an unparalleled sage, destined to become a marvel in the world.

The youth asked respectfully, "Master Mingkong, this junior is Jiang Haoyu. May I ask where the Master took his vows?" Li Muzhan smiled and nodded gently.

"So, you are Benefactor Jiang. I am a disciple of Hanshan Temple." "Hanshan Temple..." Jiang Haoyu frowned, thinking for a moment, then smiled somewhat sheepishly.

He had never heard of this temple; it did not sound like one of the famous, renowned monasteries of the realm. Li Muzhan chuckled.

"Hanshan Temple is just an obscure little mountain temple, not often seen by the world. Where are you all intending to go?

I shall escort you a stretch of the way." Jiang Haoyu sighed, a shadow of sorrow crossing his face. "Our homes are ruined, and we don't know where to go." After hearing Li Muzhan’s recitation, their past traumas felt like a distant dream, like gazing at flowers reflected in a mirror; the pain was less acute, as if they could look down upon everything with less sorrow.

Li Muzhan considered this. "I am headed toward the Shenguang Camp.

Perhaps you benefactors might accompany me there, see what it is like, and then decide your next steps?" "We will follow the Master's guidance!" Jiang Haoyu slowly nodded, smiling. "We will trouble the Master." ......................................................."....

………………, Li Muzhan smiled faintly. "There is no need for ceremony.

Can the benefactors handle riding?" "Yes, we all know a bit," Jiang Haoyu replied, glancing back at the men behind him. Li Muzhan smiled.

"Very well, everyone mount a horse. My main contingent is not far off; we will ride to rendezvous with them." Jiang Haoyu turned back.

"The Master commands it! How could we disobey?

Mount up!" Though gaunt and thin, the youths were vibrant and spirited, as if transformed compared to moments before. They swung onto their horses with practiced ease.

The true Qi Li Muzhan had infused into their bodies contained a profound mystery, providing them with abundant strength—equivalent to having eaten a hearty meal. Every one of them was filled with vigor and boundless energy.

Chiying let out a soft whinny, and the remaining hundred riders followed in its wake. The thunder of hooves kicked up swirling dust as they raced forward for ten li.

Captain Hu, Song Shiqi, and Ye Wuhen were hiding in the woods. The three climbed up trees, crouching in the forks to observe the main road.

As a Left Captain and a Marshal, their martial skills were naturally considerable; their eyesight and hearing far surpassed that of ordinary men. They suddenly pricked up their ears, listening intently.

Ye Wuhen leaped down; his large frame landed with a solid thump on the ground. He immediately flattened himself, pressing his ear to the earth, his brow furrowed.

He sprang back up. "They're here!" (To be continued)