But it was strange, the purple-haired oddity held no weapon in his hands, and upon seeing the approaching blade and sword, he made no move to meet them head-on. Instead, he spun, planting a foot on Xiang Yu’s warhorse’s head, using that leverage to spring himself airborne once more.

“What?” Xiang Yu was mildly enraged. Never had anyone dared treat his noble steed, Wuya, with such disrespect. He tried to swing his saber to knock the purple-haired figure down, but he could never quite reach him.

As the purple-haired man ascended, he showed no intention of fleeing; rather, his head angled toward the ground as he drifted down again. Once he was a suitable distance from the earth, he suddenly flung out his limbs and began to spin his body with ferocious speed.

“Not good!” Ye Xiu cried out sharply. In that instant, he clearly sensed an overwhelming surge of killing intent. He immediately drew his Demon Blade, unleashing an endless arc of crescent moon saber-light above his head.

“Clang, clang, clang…” After a rapid series of sharp collisions, within that tight combat radius, everyone except Xiang Yu, Ye Xiu, and Ying Bu collapsed inexplicably into pools of blood. What was happening?

“It’s his hair!” Ying Bu had never witnessed such an outlandish offensive technique and was momentarily stunned. “He’s killing people with his hair!”

“Hmph…” Xiang Yu sucked in a sharp breath. If Ye Xiu’s blade had not been so keen just now, who knew how many more wounds might have appeared on his own body.

“Hmph, count yourselves lucky.” The purple-haired oddity knew his attempt had failed, and once again employing his bizarre lightness skill, he dove toward the ground, scattering himself into the crowd headfirst. Wherever he passed, another inexplicable wave of casualties followed.

“Dammit!” Ye Xiu was deeply suspicious of this man’s origins. Such an eccentric figure most likely hailed from Ghost Traceless Island. Was this all Wang Long’s machination again? He couldn't afford to ponder it; the truth of the matter could only be revealed by interrogation. Without another word, he unleashed his lightness skill and pursued.

“Tch…” Ying Bu’s sole target was Ye Xiu, but today, he seemed keenly interested in that peculiar individual. Forgetting Xiang Yu’s safety for a moment, he too soared after Ye Xiu, racing away.

Xiang Yu was also stunned, but he couldn't concern himself with such trifles. He knew clearly what he needed to do: he had to crush every single Qin soldier, including their commander, Wang Li. “Kill!” He raised his great sword again, charging recklessly toward the main formation of the Qin army.

The purple-haired man bolted onward, slaying nearly every soldier who blocked his path, finally halting his pace upon the banks of the Zhang River. At that very moment, Ye Xiu materialized behind him, courtesy of the Ghost Step technique.

“Isn’t that blade the Demon Blade of Gui Yin?” The purple-haired man stood with his back to Ye Xiu, one hand perpetually twirling his own long hair.

Ye Xiu let out a soft breath. “As expected, a man of Ghost Valley. Did your sect leader send you to assassinate Xiang Yu and halt the Qin army’s demise?”

“Hmph, you yourself have deep ties with our Ghost Valley. You must know these things well enough. We assassins act only on orders; we never ask why.” The moment the purple-haired man finished speaking, he flicked his hair, and in an instant, dozens of strands shot out like flying needles, assailing Ye Xiu.

“Whoosh…” Ye Xiu gasped, never imagining that hair could truly be weaponized. He quickly retreated to buy himself time, then rapidly brought the Demon Blade up, spinning it before him at maximum speed. After another round of “clang, clang, clang,” he managed to barely deflect the barrage.

“Oh, your speed is indeed exceptional,” the purple-haired man turned around, revealing his savage features. “They call me Hair Sword Peerless. What do you think, esteemed guest?”

“Flash Absolute • Single Flash.” Ying Bu suddenly appeared behind Ye Xiu. He had actually arrived much earlier but had finally spotted an opening, perceiving a flaw in Hair Sword Peerless’s defense. He launched a fatal strike without a moment's hesitation.

“Thwack…” Hair Sword Peerless never anticipated an assailant from behind Ye Xiu. The edge of Qi Shuo sliced across him, causing him to spew blood without end.

“You…” Ye Xiu turned his head and glanced at Ying Bu with disdain. “It seems I won’t need to lift a finger today.”

“Lift a finger? Do you think I would kill him so easily?” Ying Bu threw his head back and arrogantly stepped in front of Ye Xiu. “What exactly is this Ghost Valley you speak of? Or perhaps tell me about that Demon Blade in your hand.”

Ye Xiu had no desire to answer these tedious questions, though he understood Ying Bu’s confusion. It mirrored his own shock when he first learned that another Ghost Valley existed in this world. Furthermore, he trusted the weight that the words ‘Ghost Valley’ carried in the mind of the man before him, Ying Bu, who was once Chen Jing, the senior disciple of Ghost Valley.

“Heh, do you truly believe you can defeat me with just that one sword strike?” Hair Sword Peerless made a final desperate struggle, forcing himself airborne despite the pain. His cascade of long purple hair immediately fell to the ground like a curtain. “Hair Sword Trace-less!”

“Flash Absolute • Spirit Flash.” Ying Bu made no attempt to defend against or retreat from Hair Sword Peerless’s bizarre attack. His sword speed was so extreme that the moment the blade left its sheath, his entire body seemed to vanish.

“Aah! Eek! Cough.” Hair Sword Peerless’s so-called Trace-less sword move never even had a chance to fully deploy before he let out a scream. Ying Bu’s Spirit Flash technique had already crisscrossed his body countless times, leaving streaks of blood-red light in its wake.

“Tell me quickly, what is this Ghost Valley you mentioned?” Ying Bu’s voice echoed across the riverbank, while his figure darted back and forth across the sides of the sword-wielder’s body. The sound of the blade tearing flesh was enough to make Ye Xiu lose his appetite for meat for three days.

“Tell me quickly! Tell me quickly!” Ying Bu was utterly ferocious, showing no sign of stopping. Looking at Hair Sword Peerless, his entire body was rent and torn, blurred by blood; he was in no state to utter a word.

“Tell me! Tell me!” Ying Bu was almost maniacal, roaring without pause with his mouth wide open. Why was there another Ghost Valley? Why was that fellow Ye Xiu connected to such a bizarre martial artist? Why couldn't he surpass Ye Xiu? Why? Why?

“Aargh…” Ying Bu gathered all his remaining strength for the final blow, piercing through the hair-bound swordsman. The corpse was barely recognizable, reduced to mere chunks of flesh.

The river water gently washed in, and the air was thick with the scent of gore. Ye Xiu languidly observed Ying Bu’s furious eyes and said no more. Looking back, the sounds of battle in the sea of fire had largely faded; the Battle of Julu seemed to have reached its conclusion.

In December of 207 BCE, the Western Chu army, led by the *Army’s Xiang Yu, broke the cauldrons and sank the boats, advancing northward. Xiang Yu’s determination and courage greatly inspired his troops along the way. The Chu forces surrounded the army of King Li of Qin, their morale soaring as they fought with increasing valor. One man was worth ten Qin soldiers; ten were worth a hundred. After nine fierce battles, Wang Li was captured alive, and the Qin general Su Jiao was killed. The remaining Qin soldiers were either slain or routed, and the Qin force besieging Julu was thus disintegrated.

At that time, more than a dozen contingents of regional commanders had arrived to rescue the state of Zhao. However, fearful of the Qin army’s might, they had all set up their camps and dared not engage the enemy. They had initially huddled behind ramparts, listening to the earth-shaking war cries of the Chu army. When they witnessed the scene of the Chu forces charging headlong into the Qin camps, they were so terrified they stuck out their tongues and held their breath. When Xiang Yu had crushed the Qin army and summoned them to his camp for an audience, they all crawled into the tent on their knees, not daring to lift their heads. The feudal lords praised Xiang Yu, saying, “The divine power of the *Army is truly unparalleled; there has been no equal from ancient times to the present. We are willing to follow your command.” The Battle of Julu concluded, and Xiang Yu effectively became the leader of all the anti-Qin forces, marking the turning point of his life.

The Western Chu army celebrated a triumphant return, yet the Qin forces were not entirely finished. Although the siege of Julu had been relieved, another major Qin force, Zhang Han’s army of two hundred thousand, had already amassed south of Julu. However, the victory at Julu had fundamentally shattered the military foundation of Qin; annihilating Qin altogether was now a matter of ease. At this moment, the Zhang River camp was filled with jubilation.

“Brothers, today we feast and drink heartily! The King of Huai has sent fine wine and meat. Let us drink until we are utterly satisfied today!” Xiang Yu sat sprawled in the center of the camp, his feet up. The high-ranking and low-ranking officers on either side of him raised their wine cups, laughing joyously.

“General Xiang is truly a dragon among men; we admire you greatly. We toast the Great General!” Ying Bu, who could easily see through Xiang Yu’s intentions, offered a fawning smile. “With a talent like Great General Xiang in our Chu army, the recovery of the realm is just around the corner.”

“Good! Cheers! Hahaha.” Xiang Yu had been basking in cheers and praise these past few days, and he was inevitably a bit high-spirited. “It’s all thanks to the support of my brothers. But, well, my own strength is absolutely what dictates the outcome of the war.”

“Yes, yes, yes.” The officers, both senior and junior, quickly drank down their cups whenever Xiang Yu raised his. “General Xiang is practically a deity descended, without equal.”

“Hahahaha, good! Drink.” Xiang Yu, his face slightly flushed, scanned the hall. He felt someone was missing—it seemed Fan Zeng and Ye Xiu were not present to share this celebratory drink. But he dismissed the thought. He considered Fan Zeng a foolish old man, and Ye Xiu, though skilled in martial arts, was just a minor rogue who understood nothing of state affairs. After downing another cup, he decided those useless people could all be forgotten. Tonight, he would drink his fill. Just why were the men he sent to escort Consort Yu to the camp taking so long? They still hadn't returned.

Outside the tent, on the banks of the Zhang River, the moon tonight was a crescent, cast in a somber, yet crystalline light.

Ye Xiu sat alone, cross-legged on the riverbank, thinking about the appearance of Hair Sword Peerless the other day. Hadn't that fellow Wang Long gone to the Celestial Realm? Why were assassins from Ghost Valley still interfering with the war effort? He sighed listlessly, idly picking up a stone and tossing it into the river. It seemed Wang Long’s progress in the Celestial Realm was not going smoothly. The reason he sent people to assassinate Xiang Yu was to slow the unification of the Central Plains; the more chaotic things became here, the greater his chances of success. How could he contend with that? And where in the blazes was that cursed famous sword, Heng Chen?