"Feihai City has defected; perhaps that makes twenty-seven? I wonder if this can be called being besieged on all sides?" In a stone fortress directly opposite the allied camp of the Thousand Cities Alliance, Hu Qianqiu sneered, setting aside the token in his hand.

It was not destroyed immediately, but neatly stacked to the side—a clear sign of reckoning for old scores after the fact! "His Highness treats his people generously, but if we don't cull some of these two-minded courtiers, how can we warn the others?" At this moment, within the jurisdiction of Qiantian Mountain City, the situation was indeed grim.

Fires blazed everywhere, and cities were in rebellion.

Some local city lords were already casting amorous glances toward the Thousand Cities Alliance and the Lingyun Sect, courting favor; the hoisting of rebel flags was not far off.

To an outsider, Qiantian Mountain City, once glorious and awe-inspiring, seemed on the verge of collapse.

Ling Fakong, however, was smiling, tinged with inexplicable emotion: "Was it expected? Didn't we first believe the Sovereign couldn't control a nation, nor defeat the Sect Master? Yet, the Sovereign stubbornly managed to turn the tide.

Those unfamiliar with the Blood Cloud Iron Cavalry naturally assume Qiantian is doomed." "Seven days, and only twenty-seven cities have rebelled—that's quite respectable.

This speaks to the Sovereign's effective governance and the unity of the people." According to Zong Shou's original punishment, he should have remained in the camp for ten years.

However, due to the constant battles the Qiantian fleet engaged in while hunting beneath the Cloud Sea over the last two years, Zong Shou ultimately pardoned his sentence.

His noble rank was not restored, but his status was as before.

This was due to Ling Xuan; in recent years, the Wolf Clan's influence had risen again, being re-listed among the Four Great Clans of Qiantian Mountain.

He had requested this battle himself, and considered it an honor.

Qiantian Mountain was about to unify the Cloud Continent; how could he miss such a grand event? Perhaps even his Ducal title could be restored. "Be that as it may, they are still detestable!" Hu Qianqiu snorted, flipping through the next token, his anger turning into a burst of amusement: "Good! Good! Very good! This is the declaration from the Lord of Leqing City, swearing allegiance to the Thousand Cities Alliance.

It claims the Sovereign is tyrannical, lecherous, a foolish tyrant on the path to ruin.

It warns us few not to delude ourselves and become complicit with the wicked.

It advises that to protect our clansmen, we should bind ourselves and plead for mercy from the Alliance Master.

It further states that they will soon raise another hundred thousand troops to attack the surrounding cities, urging other city lords to reconsider carefully." With a vicious sneer, Hu Qianqiu crushed the token in his hand.

His eyes filled with ferocity; the Lord of Leqing City, he had noted that name! Zong Ling also smiled: "The Lord of Leqing City? I recall this one was also a vassal of Blazing Flame Mountain previously.

Last time, he rebelled completely against Blazing Flame Mountain; this time, switching sides so thoroughly shows he has pushed things to the extreme.

The term 'courting death' seems apt for these sorts.

Do they truly believe Qiantian Mountain is already finished?" As he spoke, he glanced sideways toward the stone hall’s exterior.

Although he hadn't brought vassal troops for this major campaign, quite a few city lords and generals had gathered outside the hall, their expressions full of worry.

Over the past two years, most Qiantian cities had been forced by Zong Shou to drastically reduce their armies.

Consequently, these men had only brought some remaining elite guards.

Most were intrinsically tied to Qiantian's fate; they couldn't offer much practical help here, but their presence was a declaration to stand or fall with Qiantian.

In Zong Ling’s eyes, though these men were somewhat noisy and irritating, he appreciated and admired them far more than those who had betrayed them.

Qiu Wei, who had been engrossed in studying the map before him, also looked up: "The pacification of rebels can wait for another day! There should be another major battle tonight!" Hu Qianqiu raised a thick brow: "I also calculate that Xiong Yu is not someone who gives up easily.

This woman is fiercely ambitious; she won't sit idly by waiting for the outcome of the Shangxiao Mountain battle." Ling Fakong nodded slightly: "If luring the enemy fails, they will have no choice but to launch a direct assault.

If I am not mistaken, the point of attack should be to the East." Reaching out and tapping the map, Hu Qianqiu immediately smiled: "As expected of the designation 'Fox Wolf'; even after two years away from leading troops, her judgment remains so precise.

My thoughts align with yours!" He snorted again: "I wonder if they will deploy the Daoist soldiers from those various sects this time? If not for our concern regarding those sectarian elites, even facing ten million enemies ahead, our army could still crush them.

Truthfully, a single Xuanhu Iron Cavalry unit would suffice, but alas..." At this time, the majority of Qiantian Mountain's elite cavalry had been taken away.

The remaining contingent was insufficient to deal with the total force of five thousand elite Daoist cavalry.

The others also displayed slight frustration, until Qiu Wei broke the silence.

He then slammed his fist onto the desk: "Even if we must try, we must try! Xiong Yu cannot wait, and neither can we.

We cannot disappoint the Sovereign, nor can we afford to rest on our laurels!" As he spoke, everyone in the hall suddenly raised their eyebrows, sensing the continuous, violent tremors of spiritual energy overhead—the ninth-rank cultivators overseeing both sides were engaging in combat.

The four exchanged glances, then simultaneously exited the stone hall.

As soon as they reached the fortress wall, they saw that the opposite side showed no intention of withdrawing.

Furthermore, columns of armored soldiers poured out from the barracks, heading precisely toward the East, just as Ling Fakong had predicted.

The drums of war roared, shaking heaven and earth.

xxxxx The fierce battle raged into the early morning hours.

Over a million men were locked in continuous slaughter and entanglement around several gently sloping hills and a few layers of fortress walls.

The intense fighting had lasted nearly six hours, and two of the three hills had already been taken.

Most of the fortress walls facing them had been razed to the ground by Earth-elemental magic cast by the Spirit Masters.

However, the Thousand Cities Alliance had paid a colossal price.

A full four hundred thousand of their men lay dead on the field.

Bright red blood had dyed nearly half the ground crimson, drawing countless vultures circling overhead, waiting for the massive battle here to conclude so they could descend and feast on the corpses.

In contrast, Qiantian Mountain's casualties numbered only about a thousand—this was the result of a relentless, all-out assault.

This fierce combat had stripped the twenty Qiantian military garrisons of any remaining defensive strongholds, forcing them to line up on the open plain to block the enemy.

Yet, even in this dire situation, Qiu Wei remained expressionless, calm, and composed.

This kind of protracted battle could not be rushed; haste would only lead to mistakes.

A war between great powers was not decided by who possessed superior intellect, but by who committed the fewest errors.

Moreover, this defensive line remained impregnable.

The Thousand Cities Alliance had already cycled through their tactics three times, employing a strategy of attrition.

Each time, they deployed armies exceeding one million in an attempt to exhaust the defenders.

But the effect was not significant.

All three hundred and sixty military garrisons of Qiantian Mountain were comprised of elites.

While some were new to battle, others, having endured a week of bloody combat, were already hardened veterans close to the peak Martial Master cultivation.

Most soldiers could rest peacefully even with blades right before their eyes.

With just these two hundred thousand men, he could defeat ten times their number! What Qiantian Mountain truly excelled at was not city defense, but open field combat! Driving their sharp edge deep into the enemy's battle formation! Though currently fatigued, they could still fight! The fourth wave was now upon them.

As the previous formations, exhausted and spent, neatly withdrew to the flanks, dozens of new formations advanced in orderly ranks.

These were again anchored by elite soldiers from a major city, supplemented by troops from various smaller cities on the wings.

This time, the numbers were slightly fewer, around seven hundred thousand, but the most conspicuous element was a cavalry unit on the left flank.

Fewer than six thousand, yet their aura was overwhelmingly powerful, surpassing all other troops.

Their armor and equipment were all high-grade spiritual artifacts.

Qiu Wei raised an eyebrow and casually waved his sleeve.

A formation immediately arrayed itself on the flank of the command platform, marching toward the enemy front.

Four thousand Raging Wind Milled-Blade soldiers, four thousand Iron Tiger Great Halberd soldiers, and three thousand Wind Bear Mountain-Splitters—one of Qiantian Mountain’s top-tier elites.

Though perhaps slightly inferior to those Daoist soldiers, they were certainly capable of fighting them.

However, facing cavalry with infantry inherently placed them at a disadvantage.

The outcome would depend on how the respective commanders utilized their troops.

Qiu Wei, though, had no intention of deciding the final victory in this skirmish, but rather outside the immediate battlefield.

He gazed into the distance, calculating that Hu Qianqiu should be making his move by now.

All they needed was to tie down this specific Daoist heavy cavalry unit.

At this moment, a burst of anxious murmuring came from behind him. "Those Sect Daoist soldiers! This is not good!" "It is said that Xiong Yu is a master strategist; with this elite cavalry unit in hand, it is like giving a tiger wings!" "There are no defenses here to rely on; facing cavalry with infantry.

Commander, please prepare for a slight withdrawal..." Even the usually steady and self-possessed Qiu Wei felt the corners of his mouth twitching.

Did these people have so little faith in him? Did he not realize that victory was impossible in this engagement? Perhaps not certain defeat, but winning was out of the question.

However, if he lost ground here, he would make it up elsewhere.

These men held positions of some status, making it difficult to chastise or dismiss them, so Qiu Wei chose to ignore the chatter and continued his deployment calmly.

But then came another wave of commotion, this time focused on the central enemy formation, composed entirely of soldiers clad in pure white armor.

The banner flying before the formation bore a single, large character: “” (Xu). "Xu? Xuzheng Yuan—is that Cloud Saint City?" After a moment of surprise, Qiu Wei finally realized.

Then, he smiled.

Could it be that Heaven itself intended to grant him a great victory? Zong Ling stood beside him, murmuring in awe, "Truly, this is destiny..." As these words left his lips, a sound like "BOOM!" of thunder echoed across the sky.

The clear heavens suddenly darkened as dense clouds converged.

Qiu Wei’s expression returned to normal.

He looked up at the sky and decisively commanded, "An opportunity not to be missed! Order the Left Flank, the Fourth Garrison of the Xuanlong Army, to retreat seventy feet!" On the command platform of the Thousand Cities Alliance, Xiong Yu was also frowning as she watched the sky. "It looks like a heavy rain is coming!" she thought silently, lamenting that fate was not on her side.

Even if she won today, the heavy rain would prevent any pursuit or expansion of the results.

While contemplating this, she heard someone next to her speak: "The Sect Master's intention is that the people from Cloud Saint City will eliminate some of our forces through the hands of Qiantian Mountain in this battle.

Xuzheng Yuan's old injury was caused by our sect.

Although he has never shown resentment, having this man alive remains a potential threat." It was not Zu Renkuang, but another seventh-rank Spirit Master from the Lingyun Sect standing emotionlessly behind her.

Xiong Yu responded coolly, then let out an "En," filled with astonishment.