Perched at the edge of the canyon, approximately thirty li from the battlefield, atop a peak that sagged hundreds of zhang lower than the surrounding terrain. A handsome middle-aged man, clad in white robes and white hair, shielded by gleaming silver armor, moved with elusive grace, covering hundreds of zhang with each step. He strode from the summit of this low peak, gazing out at the battle raging more than ten li distant.

Without summoning any spiritual art to enhance his vision, he seemed utterly capable of ignoring the tens of li separating him from the conflict, observing the grand battle with shining eyes.

Beside him stood another person, one who had departed early on Zong Shou’s orders: Ruo Shui. She too was tall and statuesque, watching the distance in silence.

At the foot of this low peak, on a stretch of flat ground, lay a scattering of shattered and fragmented corpses. A rough count revealed a staggering total of eight thousand—all clutching sharp weapons and clad in black talisman armor, each figure immensely stout. It was clear that in life, they must have possessed formidable combat strength, yet their current state was one of utter carnage.

At the center of these remains rested a massive altar. Several dozen men dressed as Spirit Masters were sprawled across the ground. Lacking any other visible wounds, every single one had been decapitated with a single, clean stroke.

Adjacent to these corpses stood a company of about a thousand riders. They too wore white robes and white hair, their silver war armor leaving their faces exposed—all remarkably handsome.

Oddly enough, though the brilliant silver armor was intricately carved with patterns of extreme radiance and splendor, it failed to draw the eye. Instead, it imparted a hazy, almost elusive quality to these individuals. Blended into a crowd, one would most likely overlook them at a glance.

The warhorses beneath them were also silver, resembling ordinary Wind-Riding Colts, but their skin was covered in naturally occurring silver scales.

Their bearing was graceful, combining both lightness and strength. One could easily imagine the sheer swiftness these silver-armored steeds would possess when charging at full gallop.

A full thousand riders, arrayed in perfectly ordered ranks, waited silently at the base of the mountain. Not a single one showed any sign of impatience, lending an air of intense, cold-blooded solemnity to the mountainside, as if all of them had melted into the environment, already unified with it.

"The one in the carriage train—is that the Young Lord? Three years have passed, and he’s grown so tall. He truly looks molded from the same block as the Sovereign. But knowing this place is occupied by Yun Xia Mountain City and Mountain City, with over four hundred thousand garrisoned troops, why would he come here to court death?"

First, with deep bewilderment, he gazed at the carriage formation from afar. Then, as the gaze of the silver-armored middle-aged man encompassed the entire battlefield, a sharp divine light flared in his eyes.

The scene was starkly different from his expectation: Zong Shou and his entourage pinned down in a desperate, final stand, requiring their sworn aid. The carriage formation was clearly impregnable. Although encircled by tens of thousands of cavalry on the outside, these attackers were routinely repelled by crossbow bolts fired from within the formation the moment they drew near.

Most of the projectiles were standard arrows, interspersed with spirit arrows capable of exploding into wind blades or flames. Yet, fired from the Three-Armed Spirit Crossbows, their power was immense. A volley from just twenty or so units was often enough to fell dozens or even hundreds of lives.

And ten li away, the situation near the allied army’s camp was even more stunning.

Three thousand Black Armored Iron Cavalry surged through the enemy ranks like a tide of crimson iron, charging and trampling without restraint. The four hundred thousand enemy troops could not halt their advance for even a single moment.

Behind the iron cavalry lay fields carpeted with fallen corpses.

The white-haired middle-aged man almost believed he was mistaken. He shook his head violently and focused his sight again, only to find the vista remained unchanged.

Still, there were the thousand Black Armored Wind Dragon Riders and two thousand elite Black Armored Iron Cavalry, conquering the masses of soldiers effortlessly. And the fallen corpses—they were chilling to behold.

Two thousand Tiger and Leopard Riders, one thousand Black Cloud Dragon Spear Corps, ten thousand Black Cloud Elite Cavalry—the crack troops of Yun Xia Mountain had suffered such losses. And over there, the remains and broken armor clearly belonged to the Flame-Chasing Armored Cavalry of Mountain. The white-haired middle-aged man closed his eyes; in mere moments, he had deduced eight or nine-tenths of what had transpired.

"Regarding the carriage formation, if my guess is correct, they must have deployed over a hundred and fifty Wind Flame Burst Arrows from the Kong Qi Sect, or perhaps the Bright Incinerating Flames Arrows from the Ming Qi Sect. As for the three thousand armored cavalry, they likely routed the five thousand Yun Xia cavalry on the left flank first, before crashing into the infantry. Within a thousand breaths, they trampled five formations! But why aren't they using bows?"

When his gaze fell upon the arrows thickly embedded in the grass before the Crescent Moon Formation, the middle-aged man seemed to realize something, but simultaneously sucked in a sharp breath. To force the opponent to continuously fire their crossbows by constant, relentless charging and retreating—what kind of pressure must that have placed on the commanders of Yun Xia?

Then, his attention was completely captured by the figure in red armor who was just shattering the fifth Black Armored formation.

To slaughter two thousand Tiger and Leopard Riders and break five formations in succession—those Yang Xuan and the others were likely already dead at the hands of this arrogant, overwhelming Black Armored Knight.

And just moments ago, he had witnessed with his own eyes the corpse of Yun Xia's Mu Ling being speared high into the air by this man’s lance, shattering into fragments fifty zhang overhead.

"His spear technique is exquisite, and his method of breaking formations is nearly twice as effective as mine! This is clearly the talent of a great general! Where on earth did the Young Lord find this person? No wonder he doesn't fear the combined forty thousand troops of these two cities. But why would someone like this choose to follow the Young Lord?"

A string of questions surfaced in his mind. A talent like this could go anywhere; even in the Central Dynasty, he would secure a place and, within a few short years, rise to the rank of nobility. Why serve under Zong Shou?

Then, for a moment, the white-haired middle-aged man’s pupils constricted sharply: "The Purple Thunder Spear. This person is Yuan of the Purple Thunder Spear Sect! Ruo Shui, was my earlier guess incorrect?"

Ruo Shui, who had been silent beside him, letting the handsome middle-aged man muse aloud, finally turned her head, blinking in surprise, and then nodded.

"It is indeed him! I previously thought this lad only possessed decent talent, the foremost among the younger generation of our Heavenly Fox Clan. I never imagined he possessed unmatched formation-breaking prowess! No wonder the Sovereign holds him in such high regard!"

The middle-aged man’s breathing grew rapid, the veins on his hands bulging, and his eyes flashed with killing intent, his gaze sharp as blades, almost taking on physical substance.

"Ruo Shui, tell me, is this person currently serving the Young Lord, or does he still serve that father-and-son pair, Zong Yang?"

If such a person was still in Zong Yang's employ, no matter how vital this young man was to their Heavenly Fox Clan, he would have to kill him here! A mere Earth Meridian Fourth Vein could grant invincibility on the battlefield. After a few more years, how many in the entire Eastern Lin Cloud Continent could challenge him?

But Ruo Shui showed a strange expression this time. Recalling the events in Jie Fu City, she felt it was almost impossible for Zong Yuan to still be serving the Zong Hao and Zong Yang father and son. However, to say that Zong Yuan had already been fully secured by Zong Shou was also not quite accurate; it seemed there was still a gap to bridge.

After pondering for a while, Ruo Shui replied very seriously, "Don't worry, the Young Lord is strong, very powerful!" As if fearing the man wouldn't believe her, she emphasized her words: "Stronger than both you and I, much stronger!"

The white-haired middle-aged man paused slightly, thinking that her answer seemed entirely irrelevant to the point. The Young Lord possessed the Two-Vein body and was unable to cultivate. What did 'very strong, much stronger' truly mean?

ｘＸｘｘ

"This Zong Yuan is truly an unparalleled military seed!"

Within a stretch of canyon, a fourth person murmured this exclamation. However, the face of the speaker at this moment was as pale as paper.

Xiong Kui leaned against the wooden railing, staring fixedly below. The three thousand Black Armored Iron Cavalry were now less than one hundred and forty zhang from the wooden platform. Ahead lay only a five-thousand-strong Black Armored formation from Yun Xia City, followed by two thousand Mad Bear Armored warriors.

From the look of things, morale was utterly crushed. The foot soldiers in the Yun Xia formation were all in despair, clearly possessing no confidence that they could withstand the impact of these iron cavalry. Only the discipline and obedience ingrained through long training kept them from breaking ranks.

Even among his own troops, those two thousand Mad Bear Armored warriors were uneasy. These were the strongest elites of Mountain, possessing tenacious spirits, yet at this moment, they displayed little will to fight, their demeanor dominated by gravity and a readiness for a fight unto death. Bears loved battle, but they only became this way when facing an opponent so overwhelmingly dominant that victory seemed impossible!

"Damn it! Damn it! Mu Ling, Xie Nu, truly incompetent! How could the three of them together fail to kill even one Martial Ancestor of the Earth Meridian Fourth Vein? What use are they to me?"

Feng Yu suddenly slammed a fist, shaking the wooden railing before him into splinters. Xiong Kui turned his head to glance at the other man. He saw that although Feng Yu was cursing, his eyes were filled with sorrow and a hint of fear. This Yun Xia Young Lord, known for his steadfast demeanor, was actually afraid!

Xiong Kui felt no trace of mockery. In the span of moments, the man wielding the purple spear had run through three Xuanwu Grandmasters. Xiong Kui himself felt a touch of dread—fear of the man clad in red armor, wielding the purple spear, that seemingly invincible warrior!

"It’s not that they were useless, but that this Zong Yuan is too strong! Terrifying—"

Feng Yu snorted, pacing restlessly on the high platform, then looked toward the rear: "What is going on with those Spirit Masters? Why did they only fire one bolt of lightning and then stop?"

"That is indeed strange! I suspect some unexpected change has occurred."

Xiong Kui's chest was now filled with foreboding, an intense heart palpitation washing over him. Unwilling to dwell on it, he changed the subject: "That last engagement, since you managed to force him to his knees, why didn't you kill Zong Yuan then? If you had slain this man earlier, would we be in this situation?"

"That would have required being able to kill him!"

Feng Yu frowned deeply, clenching his fists until blood beaded at his gums. "No wonder Zong Wei Ran, knowing this youth had already been won over by Zong Yang, still expended every effort to save him. Who could have predicted back then that this person, who had little hope of breaking through to the Innate realm, would possess such military talent?"