The sound of thousands of hooves, measured and steady, converged into a heavy, solemn cadence. Everyone was silent, their gazes fixed and intense, the atmosphere utterly oppressive.

Li Muzhan followed closely beside General Hua, flanked by the surrounding knights. Ji Wuming and six others formed the innermost circle, clad in the radiant Guangming Jia, appearing as imposing and divine as gods.

Li Muzhan, in his simple gray monk’s robe, stood out vividly amidst the sea of silver armor.

The sun shone brightly, inviting a languor that did not touch him. Li Muzhan’s expression was tranquil as he surveyed the surroundings with his Void Eye looking down.

As he employed the Void Eye, his mind imperceptibly transcended the mundane world, looking down upon all beings. Even amid the ebb and flow of life and death, his heart remained as still as a placid pool, undisturbed by the slightest ripple.

A cool breeze stroked his cheek, making his robe flutter. He turned and smiled. “General, I have a premonition. We are going to win this time.”

General Hua, encased in the Guangming Jia, reflected the brilliant sunlight as a chilling, sharp gleam. His entire bearing radiated an imposing killing intent, washing away all traces of his usual scholarly grace.

He lifted his visor; his expression was solemn yet calm. Hearing Li Muzhan, he smiled faintly. “Master is also skilled in the arts of divination?”

Li Muzhan nodded. “A little, nothing more.”

General Hua chuckled softly. “Then I shall gladly accept the Master’s auspicious words!”

………………………………………………

With the steady increase in his Heart Pearls, his intuition grew sharper. Before any action, omens of fortune or disaster would surface; for major events, the signs within his heart became even clearer.

Li Muzhan used the Void Eye to observe the battle formation: shield-bearers were at the very front, followed by crossbowmen, then spearmen, and finally, the cavalry reserve.

A li away, the Eastern Chu forces were arrayed with heavy cavalry at the vanguard. Their armor encased both man and horse as one seamless unit, revealing only the eyes of the riders and steeds, making them resemble ghastly monsters.

Behind the heavy cavalry came the light cavalry, clad in lighter armor and carrying bows. They crouched low over their horses, their eyes wide with excitement, eager to charge and slaughter.

Li Muzhan looked down upon the soldiers of Dayyan; their expressions were solemn and grave, a stark contrast to the excitement displayed by the Eastern Chu. He sighed inwardly, recognizing the divergence between the two nations’ cultures and beliefs.

The soldiers of Eastern Chu viewed dying in battle as an honor, a path to becoming a War Soul and achieving eternal, undead existence. The entirety of Dayyan devoutly believed in Buddhism, yet they could not truly transcend the cycle of life and death.

“General, I will head to the crossbowmen. I’d like to fell a few more.” Li Muzhan turned to say.

General Hua nodded. “Master is free to do as he wishes.”

Li Muzhan patted Chi Ying, signaling it to remain, then unbuckled the eight quivers from its saddle and strapped them around his waist. With a flash, he slipped off the saddle and darted through the ranks, weaving seamlessly into the formation of the crossbowmen.

To the soldiers of the Divine Light Camp, Li Muzhan, dressed entirely in the monastic habit, was instantly recognizable. No one spoke much; the row of quivers strapped around him looked somewhat odd, but the tension preceding the great battle suppressed their curiosity, leaving no room for chatter.

He stood within the ranks, closed his eyes, and said no more, waiting only for the battle to commence. His spirit sank into his Dantian, where he continued to cultivate the Yujian Jue, striving to enhance its destructive power.

By now, the Yujian Jue had long broken free of its initial constraints, its potential seemingly limitless, yet he remained unsatisfied.

………………………………………………………………

The thunderous drumbeats startled him awake. He looked up to see the surrounding soldiers beginning to advance, their steps perfectly synchronized, the ground itself seeming to tremble beneath them.

He moved forward with them. Through the Void Eye, he saw the men like ants, their neat lines advancing slowly, like a tide surging forward.

After advancing perhaps ten meters, the drumbeats abruptly shifted, and the troops halted instantly. They unstrung their bows, nocked arrows, and stared fixedly ahead between tightly pressed lips.

The spearmen behind him rested the butts of their spears on the ground, supporting the shafts with both hands, the points angled forward at a forty-five-degree slope, catching the light with a cold sheen.

The Eastern Chu cavalry began to move. The ground vibrated, and the sound of ten thousand galloping horses roared like thunder. The pressure of the charge washed over them.

The heavy iron cavalry moved like monstrous beasts, devoid of human emotion, radiating an icy aura. Behind them, the light cavalry howled, their eyes gleaming with frenzied excitement, brandishing their curved sabers, flashes of cold light intermingling.

Once the cavalry broke into a run, five hundred meters vanished in an instant. As they closed to three hundred meters—

“Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong dong dong!” The earth-shaking drums sounded.

Then, a shout rang out: “Crossbowmen, fire volleys!”

The men around him drew their bows, and arrows rained down upon the open ground before the formation, precisely where the armored knights were accelerating their charge, plunging directly into the downpour of projectiles.

“Clink… clink…” A series of crisp sounds echoed as the arrows struck the heavy cavalry, bouncing off immediately. The cavalry riders, in turn, drew and loosed their bows from horseback, creating a counter-hail of arrows that descended upon the Dayyan lines.

The shield-bearers at the front raised their massive shields, covering the sky. The arrows fell thick and fast, like rain hitting banana leaves, but the shields blocked them, leaving the men unharmed.

Li Muzhan frowned, then flicked his fingers, sending four arrows forth. The bowstring snapped tight, then released with a muffled bang, and the four arrows tore through the air.

Four opposing heavy cavalrymen were flung backward, as if struck by colossal logs.

As they fell, they collided with comrades behind them, knocking a total of eight men from their saddles, instantly neutralizing their fighting force. The riders behind them swerved violently to avoid the chaos.

A cheer rose from the Dayyan army. These heavy cavalrymen were the nightmare of everyone present, terrifying in their relentless, armor-piercing charge, invincible unless stopped by direct hits—akin to the tanks of a later age.

There were only two hundred heavy cavalry, yet their destructive power was immense, usually requiring men to absorb the impact directly. Seeing them felled by arrows significantly boosted morale.

Li Muzhan’s expression remained composed. With his left hand, he formed a shadow-like chain, unleashing four arrows at a time. Bang, bang sounds erupted ceaselessly, deafeningly loud.

The heavy cavalry advanced with frightening speed; ordinarily, the archers only had time for three volleys before the melee began, at which point the archers became vulnerable to hacking and slashing.

The others had fired three volleys, but Li Muzhan had loosed ten. Four arrows per volley—each arrow took down two targets. The opposing heavy cavalry force suffered a loss of nearly eighty men right then.

What was once over two hundred men was suddenly reduced by seventy-plus, and their formation immediately loosened.

Though they faced death fearlessly, this intense barrage of archery did not intimidate them. Their charge speed did not slacken; instead, it increased, slamming directly into the shield wall.

The archers retreated ten paces, shoulder-to-shoulder with the spearmen behind them, drawing long swords or axes, their eyes locked on the front line.

Muffled thuds and screams rose and fell incessantly as the heavy cavalry crashed into the shield formation.

Li Muzhan, rather than retreating, pressed forward, releasing arrows like shuttles. Two more quivers at his side emptied. His arrows seemed to possess sight, striking the heavy cavalry with precision amidst the fray.

His chest became a blur of hand movements, so swift they were invisible to the eye. Arrows shot out like a continuous waterfall, ceaseless. In a short span, he had already emptied half his quivers.

He charged forward simultaneously, colliding with the heavy cavalry like a stone boulder, knocking men flying. His hands never stopped, firing and impacting in the same motion, leaving nothing undone.

Following the heavy cavalry were the light horsemen. They did not charge headlong but swept sideways, firing from the saddle with exceptional accuracy.

The mounted archery skills of the Eastern Chu were formidable, honed by the harsh demands of the Great Khanate. Martial prowess in archery and riding was deeply ingrained; they had trained since childhood, far surpassing the Dayyan soldiers.

Li Muzhan, in his monk’s robe, was already conspicuous, and his sheer display of power made him the primary target. Their eyes burned with hatred; they desperately wished to tear him limb from limb.

Almost every arrow was directed at him. Li Muzhan’s robe billowed out, yet he did not evade; he allowed the arrows to rain down upon the fabric.

The projectiles striking his robe made strange peng, peng, peng sounds, like striking hardened leather, yet they could not pierce the cloth. He continued his slaughter of the heavy cavalry as if nothing had happened.

In this short time, he had nearly wiped out the two hundred heavy cavalry; only a scattering remained, posing no threat. Behind him, the Dayyan soldiers erupted in thunderous cheers.

Ji Wuming, guarding General Hua closely, sighed softly. “General, Master’s martial arts are truly astonishing!” General Hua nodded slowly, his expression serene.

Yet, he was inwardly thrilled. He had not anticipated the Master would be so formidable on the battlefield—one man equaling an entire battalion of the Brave Cavalry. Recruiting the Master had been an immense bargain.

He had seen many powerful martial artists, but most found their skills limited on a chaotic field. No matter how high one’s martial arts, one feared arrows, unless one had mastered the Body Protection Aura—a skill spoken of only in legends, which no one in Dayyan was said to have achieved.

Even with profound internal energy, one could not survive an endless rain of arrows. Defending against one volley required internal strength; defending against the next demanded even more. A single person’s internal energy was finite; they might survive one volley, perhaps two, but eventually, their energy would deplete, leaving them as vulnerable as any common man.

Li Muzhan had cultivated a membrane of Qi that adhered to his monk’s robe, acting like an external skin. Though not as tough as true skin, it offered a defense.

Furthermore, beneath his robe, he wore two iron plates protecting vital areas. Any arrow striking the periphery was deemed inconsequential.

His Qi membrane possessed formidable power, merging with the robe to create an extraordinary resilience. When arrows struck, the Qi flowed rapidly, dissipating the force, causing the arrows to drop harmlessly.

Fundamentally, this strength derived from the Wuqing Xiu (Ruthless Sleeve) heart method. He had cultivated the Wuqing Xiu to its absolute apex, controlling internal force as effortlessly as moving a finger, resulting in peerless might now fully displayed.

Unscathed beneath the storm of arrows, his movements never ceased. He finally eliminated the heavy cavalry, then surged forward, like a wisp of light smoke.

Ji Wuming gasped in alarm. “Master is going to charge the…?”

General Hua shook his head, a wry smile touching his lips. “The Master has great courage, attempting to breach the line alone!”

He waved his hand, and the drums immediately pounded like thunder, a deafening bang, bang, bang sound. The cavalry on both flanks began to move, surging out like a devastating flood.

Li Muzhan weaved through the advancing cavalry, moving like a fish through water, unimpeded. In moments, he reached the vicinity of the main command tent.

He had already confirmed the situation with the Void Eye: Xi Men Zhan was indeed dead, replaced by another elder who sat upon a high chariot, surveying the surroundings.

Two layers of guards, about forty men in total, surrounded him. They sat steadily on their horses, clad in light armor, their killing intent visibly manifest, staring coldly at Li Muzhan as if regarding a dead man.

As Li Muzhan approached, they drew short spears from their saddles and simultaneously hurled them. The spears formed a strange configuration in the air, descending to envelop him. The whistling spears rushed toward him, forcing Li Muzhan to dodge. Even with the protection of the Indestructible Vajra Divine Art, taking one such strike would surely leave a bloody hole. (To be continued)