Youming once again ordered a truce to be posted. General Anyuan was not in a hurry when he heard this, as he also needed time to rest and recuperate. He found it somewhat amusing.
Whether the Netherworld was truly stupid or simply inexperienced, it failed to seize the opportunity to attack and instead chose to cease hostilities, allowing itself time to recuperate.
It's good that the enemy is like this; it's easier to attack them. We don't need to worry about troop deployment, and the casualties aren't too great. If all the opponents are like this, this expedition will be too comfortable.
Meanwhile, Youming was also pondering how to defeat General Anyuan. One good thing about the people of Tianxuan Kingdom was that they would not resort to underhanded tactics, but would only act openly and honestly.
I can make good use of this. If the city I'm personally guarding is lost again, I'm afraid I won't be able to return to the capital, and the emperor will definitely not give me the antidote again.
He pondered his next strategy repeatedly, mentally rehearsing the feasibility of various moves. He was convinced that as long as he could successfully kill General An Yuan, the rest of them would be nothing but ants and not a threat.
A day later, Youming arrived to fight, carrying many deadly poisons. His shadow, elongated by the sunlight, concealed a heart full of scheming and cunning.
He sat astride his horse, his eyes gleaming with a sinister light in the bright light, a barely perceptible smirk playing on his lips, as if victory were assured.
Upon seeing Youming appear, General Anyuan's aura instantly surged, like an enraged lion, and he quickly entered a state of battle readiness.
At this moment, Qin Qianluo, who was lying in ambush at the sniper position, had also set up her high-precision sniper rifle steadily, her sharp eyes locked on Youming's arm through the scope.
The corner where she hid was surrounded by grass that swayed gently in the breeze, occasionally reflecting a few dappled rays of sunlight.
Qin Qianluo did not intend to use a high-precision sniper rifle to finish off Youming directly, because the shameless act of poisoning on the battlefield had already enraged General Anyuan.
Only by personally beheading Youming can he vent his raging fury.
Youming made the first move, his legs clamping tightly around the horse's belly. The horse neighed and charged forward like a black lightning bolt.
The long sword in his hand gleamed with a blinding cold light under the sunlight, and he thrust it straight at General An Yuan's face. The ruthlessness and determination in his eyes seemed to want to tear the person in front of him to pieces.
When General An Yuan saw the long sword coming, a cold glint flashed in his eyes, like a cold star falling into a deep pool, arousing a chilling killing intent.
His feet moved lightly, like a dragonfly skimming the water, yet with a force of immense power. He dodged to the side, and the long sword whistled past him.
The sharp energy actually scratched a shallow white mark on his armor, like a wolf's claws leaving a shallow claw mark on a hard rock.
In an instant, the long sword in his hand emerged from its sheath with a clang, like a dragon emerging from the sea. The chilling sword light flashed like lightning, illuminating the dust flying around him.
With a swift, diagonal slash, the blade tore through the air, emitting a sharp whistling sound, like the cry of a night owl, aimed straight at the throat of the underworld. Wherever the sword wind reached, the withered grass on the ground was uprooted and scattered in all directions.
In his panic, Youming leaned back rapidly, his back almost touching the horse's rump. Cold sweat trickled down his face, leaving a wet trail in the swirling dust.
The sword tip narrowly missed his nose, sending a chill down his spine. At that moment, the battlefield dust was whipped up by the strong wind, fluttering like golden gauze under the blazing sun. Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the dust, forming beams of golden light.
Youming pulled hard on the reins, and the warhorse raised its head and neighed, its voice shaking the surrounding fields. Its front hooves were off the ground, and sparks flew as its horseshoes collided with the ground.
The sparks were like dazzling fireworks, fleeting in an instant. He used the momentum of his horse to turn around, swung his sword in a backhand motion, the blade flashing like a crescent moon, aiming for General An Yuan's waist.
Wherever the blade passed, the air seemed to be cleaved by the sharp edge, emitting a hissing sound. General An Yuan lightly touched the back of his horse with his toes and leaped gracefully into the air.
He spun rapidly in mid-air, his clothes fluttering in the wind, and his long sword spun into a dazzling sword flower, like a meteor falling to earth and piercing the top of the Netherworld.
As the sword blossoms, the faint sounds of wind and thunder accompany them. Youming's heart trembled, and he hurriedly raised his sword to parry. A loud clang rang out.
Like the resounding clang of a great bell, the sound of metal clashing ripped through the air, sparks flew everywhere, and dewdrops on the surrounding grass were shaken off, the glistening water droplets shattering in the dust and turning into fine mist that drifted into the air.
The two were locked in a fierce battle, neither gaining the upper hand. Youming's eyes darted around, and he attempted a trick, secretly reaching into his robes to retrieve the poison. Just as he took out the poison...
Qin Qianlu's eyes were sharp as she decisively pulled the trigger of the high-precision sniper rifle. With a "bang," the bullet flew like a runaway cheetah towards Youming's arm.
Wherever it passed, visible ripples spread through the air. Youming winced in pain, jerking his arm back, nearly dropping the poison.
His facial muscles contorted instantly, revealing pain and shock. His expression changed drastically, filled with both surprise and anger, yet he dared not make the slightest further move.
His eyes widened warily as he scanned his surroundings, trying to find the source of the hidden weapon. Veins bulged on his forehead, and cold sweat poured down his face.
General An Yuan was overjoyed. Instead of searching for the source of the hidden weapon, he seized the opportunity to suddenly change his swordsmanship and unleash the "Swift Wind Sword Technique." His figure moved like lightning, like a black bolt of lightning darting across the battlefield, his sword strikes raining down, dense and impenetrable.
The longsword, like a serpent spitting its tongue, flashes with cold light as it pierces the vital points of the underworld. Where it strikes, one can almost hear the "poof" sound of the air being pierced.
Or like a tiger swinging its tail, the sword uses the side of its blade to strike the opponent's longsword, each strike accompanied by the vibration of metal.
Or like Mount Tai pressing down, raising a long sword high, using the falling momentum to slash at the opponent's shoulder, the sword's force as if it could split the earth.
Or perhaps it's like a mad python turning over, the sword coiling around the waist, slashing at the side of the Netherworld, bringing with it a whistling sound.
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