Ye Xiu stood firmly atop the ramparts, gazing toward the rapidly approaching Chu cavalry. Though the night was deep, the distinct torches had already merged into a vast sea of fire—a sea of flame that carried the very ** of the entire anti-Qin grand endeavor. This battle today was certain to inflict a heavy blow upon the Qin army.

“Heh, still interested in those tedious skirmishes?” A figure quietly emerged from the darkness on the far side of the battlement. He carried no weapon, simply standing there alone.

Ye Xiu turned, his gaze turning cold toward the newcomer. A rather refined young gentleman stood watching him, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“You’re the one who subdued Ji Lianfengyu with just a wooden sword?” The man sounded doubtful, for in his eyes, Ye Xiu looked like nothing more than an easy meal.

“Ji Lianfengyu? You’re also from the Ghost Valley,” Ye Xiu stated. He certainly knew who they were talking about, but he hadn't expected someone from Ghost Valley to approach him directly this time.

The gentleman offered Ye Xiu a formal bow. “My title is Flying Needle Yangtian. I merely wish to sample your renowned skill. Though, if things go poorly, I might just have to take your life in a moment, for which I apologize in advance.”

Ye Xiu accepted the challenge, tossing his torch aside. “Your Ghost Valley operates with a certain efficacy. Be warned, however: whenever someone I capture is followed by someone else appearing from the shadows for an execution, I hope you avoid such a messy conclusion.”

Yangtian gave a cold laugh. “If an assassin’s mission fails, death is the natural consequence. Please, draw your blade, Young Master.”

Ye Xiu felt a familiar sense of frustration. He had hoped to witness a grand engagement, only to be pulled aside for a personal duel. Still, matters concerning Ghost Valley interested him more, so he decided to see what abilities this Flying Needle Yangtian possessed.

The night was frigid, yet outside the city walls, the sounds of slaughter raged. Ye Xiu picked up his sword and closely scrutinized Yangtian, noting how strange it was that the man had yet to produce any weapon.

Could it be concealed projectiles—needles? Ye Xiu grew cautious. This was his first time facing someone who relied on hidden weapons; he absolutely had to…

Suddenly, two sharp whooshing sounds, like a mournful, chilling wind, swept directly toward him, instantly shattering Ye Xiu’s concentration. Ye Xiu had not seen Yangtian move at all, yet two slender steel needles were clearly visible before his eyes. Speed, speed, speed! Ye Xiu realized this, too, would be a battle of velocity. He tried to immediately swing his sword to block the projectiles, but it was too late; the two needles sliced sharply past his face, leaving behind thin, stinging scars.

“Damn it, trying to disfigure me!” Ye Xiu was thoroughly displeased. Raising his Tianyi high, he prepared to thrust toward Yangtian.

At this moment, Yangtian still made no move, merely allowing his lips to part slightly to utter a single sentence: “Wrong. I intend to take your life.”

“What? Ah!” Ye Xiu finally realized he had underestimated his foe. Those two steel needles that had flown past had somehow turned in mid-air as if guided, pursuing Ye Xiu again from behind. It was only when they embedded themselves solidly into his back that he roared out in agony, “Ouch!”

“Th-this… how is this possible?” Ye Xiu used his sword to support his body, managing to remain standing, but Yangtian’s hidden weapons were too bizarre. These were absolutely high-tech gadgets with satellite navigation! He had never encountered anything like it before, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

“There is no ‘possible’ or ‘impossible,’ Young Master,” Yangtian’s tone remained placid, and he still had not moved an inch. “The next strike might be your last. Do you have anything else to say?”

“Magnets?” Yangtian had initially intended to leave Ye Xiu with some regret or final thoughts, but after pondering for a long moment, Ye Xiu blurted out that single word.

“Needle • Thousand Illusions.” With that, Yangtian finally raised both hands gently, adopting an extremely fluid and relaxed posture.

In that instant, the gentle breeze atop the city tower seemed to merge with the roaring charge of the Western Chu army surging toward them.

The sound of whoosh, whoosh, whoosh echoed across the plains. No one could tell if it was the sound of the wind or the high-speed passage of flying needles. Ye Xiu was stunned. He finally saw where Yangtian’s needles were coming from. Yangtian had never used his hands to throw a projectile; those needles were bursting forth from every corner of his body. What a terrifying opponent! Was this the legendary man whose entire body was a weapon?

The tension and the feeling of being on the brink of death precluded any further deep thought for Ye Xiu. Dozens of steel needles were already hurtling toward him in a desperate assault. It was too late to dodge. Thinking quickly, Ye Xiu employed the Mohist sword technique, Yang Jian Piao Feng, drawing arcs of beautiful, autumnal light before him. As the sword’s edge flashed, the sounds of clang, clang accompanied by endless sparks erupted before him. Clearly, every one of Yangtian’s needles had been struck down by Ye Xiu.

However, this was not the true power of Yangtian’s Needle • Thousand Illusions. The needles struck down instantly reversed direction upon hitting the ground, flying wildly back toward Yangtian, circling him once before relaunching their assault on Ye Xiu. Ye Xiu had noticed this immediately. While his Yang Jian Piao Feng formed an excellent protective barrier, it was ultimately defensive, not offensive. Meanwhile, Yangtian’s needles continued to attack him incessantly, leaving him perplexed and helpless.

Below the ramparts, the cries of battle mixed with dust to reach a fever pitch.

Xiang Yu’s warhorse took the lead, crashing into the gate guards who tried to hold the line. But just as the horse’s hooves landed on Yongqiu’s soil, it suddenly sank. A massive, deep pit was revealed to everyone’s sight. Xiang Yu let out a roar of curses, vexed that he could be undone by such a treacherous device. He snatched his greatsword backhanded and drove the blade heavily into the solid wall at the city gate. With a few grinding sounds, he pried several large stones loose from the masonry. Then, Xiang Yu yanked the reins hard, pulling his horse’s head up dramatically high. His exceptional warhorse, understanding its master's intent, let out a long whinny, somehow managing to use the leverage of Xiang Yu’s greatsword braced against the wall to leap upward, soaring over the massive pit.

“Charge!” Xiang Yu’s spirit was pushed to its absolute peak. He was the first to storm into the city, wildly swinging his greatsword, slaughtering everything that stood in his way with a berserk fury. Instantly, gore and earth flew everywhere.

“Ah, ya!” Although the great pit dug by the Mohist disciples failed to stop Xiang Yu, the soldiers behind him were not so fortunate. Large numbers failed to react in time and fell headlong into the pit, smashing themselves bloody. The defending Qin troops saw their chance and began hurling long spears down into the chasm. Thus, people and horses continued to tumble in, and weapons kept piercing those below. In a short time, the massive pit was filled entirely with the corpses of men and beasts.

“Kill! Do not let Li You escape!” At this moment, Long Ju and Ying Bu’s flanking armies also surged into the city. The Qin forces, now assailed from three sides, were completely unable to resist and began to crumble like scattered sand. The Qin commander, Li You, forced into a desperate situation, had no choice but to order a breakout through the weakest point in the Chu lines. However, morale was already broken. The raging fires within the city consumed all the buildings, and in doing so, burned away the Qin army’s will to fight to the last man.