Chapter 158: Operation Sixteen [Requesting Monthly Tickets]
Commander Yang adjusted his center of gravity while still in mid-air.
The strong man's kick was incredibly powerful, causing Yang Duwei's breath to surge and leaving two long marks on the ground. He was forced to stagger back more than ten feet before he could regain his footing.
No sooner had they stood still than the enemy attacked again, giving them no chance to catch their breath.
Enraged, Commander Yang drew his sword and charged back.
Weapons clashed, clanging and ringing.
Why didn't Zhai Le rush over to help?
The root of the problem lies with that sword.
It's not new to condense weapons with the energy of both literature and martial arts, but he had only seen that style of slender, narrow sword on one person—Brother Shen, whom he hadn't seen for quite some time.
Zhai Le: "..."
For a moment, he had a thousand words to say.
Not long ago, at most a few hours ago, he was still thinking about Brother Shen and the various kinds of fine wine that Brother Shen's literary energy had transformed into.
Passing by the mountain road, he thought of the Liangshan heroes "selling dates and wine". He then thought of Brother Shen and laughed, "If Brother Shen were to "outwit the birthday gifts", with the use of the Word of Power, Brother Shen wouldn't have to pay for the wine and dates out of his own pocket. Wouldn't he earn more than the Liangshan heroes?"
He also secretly regretted not having formally said goodbye to Brother Shen.
In these times, with the world scattered across the globe, we may never meet again. Who knew, who knew Brother Shen would be so prone to lamenting like this!
They not only met again, but in this way...
Based on that unusual longsword, Zhai Le was ninety percent certain that the murderous-looking burly man was indeed his acquaintance, Brother Shen. As for why his appearance had changed so drastically… hehe, don't forget, Brother Shen had a peerless scholar, Qi Yuanliang, by his side!
So it is said that—
The ninth-rank fifth-level doctor who just made a move was no stranger; he must be Gong Shuwu.
What about those two literary scholars?
One of them must be Mr. Qi Yuanliang.
Who is the other person?
Even with his wildest imagination, Zhai Le never considered Chu Yao as a potential candidate.
After all, it is a well-known fact that Chu Yao's Danfu was destroyed and has been in decline for many years. Even if special methods are used to restore it, there is not enough time.
Just then, a dangerous aura attacked.
Upon closer inspection, it was revealed to be a burly warrior clad in menacing black armor. The warrior conjured a long blade in his hand, aiming directly for the attacker's face. This man exuded murderous intent; without being extremely vigilant, one might be cut down!
A sense of crisis made Zhai Le dare not let his guard down—even though he knew that the imposing martial artist in front of him, whose only half of his square jaw was visible, was an acquaintance—but, heh, on the battlefield there are only enemies, would an acquaintance show mercy and not kill you?
People who cling to such naive fantasies will never survive.
Although Zhai Le was young, he was quite experienced and mature. He would fight with all his might against Gong Shuwu, whom he had only met a few times and could barely be considered an acquaintance, or even against his own flesh and blood. It was a fight to the death.
Several sharp, ringing sounds.
They clashed head-on with their weapons several times.
The difference between a ninth-rank, fifth-grade official and a seventh-rank, third-grade official is a chasm that is extremely difficult to cross, even though they are only two ranks apart. Gong Shuwu clearly still had some strength left, but Zhai Le had to exert all his strength in every move. His tiger's mouth was numb, his palms were red, his chest felt tight, and he secretly groaned in despair.
There are actually different schools of martial arts practitioners. Zhai Le is not a martial arts practitioner who excels in strength; he prefers speed and technique, and is also lacking in endurance. Relying on his talent, experience, and skills, he has a high chance of winning against opponents of equal strength.
But in the face of absolute power, no amount of fancy techniques are useful. Talent can't be converted into cash, and experience is even more absurd—the martial arts expert before him has more experience than two of him combined. For a time, he was being suppressed and could only barely maintain his undefeated status.
His situation is bad, and Zhai Huan is probably the most anxious.
Without the slightest hesitation: "Indecisive."
Besides him, the team also included a civil official who was also a scholar, but that scholar was not very capable and had a slow reaction. He probably had no experience in handling such a sudden and large-scale situation, and was also being distracted by Qi Shan and Chu Yao who were secretly acting.
Therefore, this person was already overwhelmed just directing and mobilizing ordinary soldiers, let alone having the extra energy to look after Zhai Le.
I feel sorry for my own cousin.
Even though he knew that once a literary scholar used techniques like "three minds and two intentions" to distract himself from controlling the power of words, the rate at which his literary energy was consumed would double, he had no other choice. In the blink of an eye, two wisps of literary energy, like viscous flowing water, surged up beneath his feet.
One is black, and the other is white.
Three people, three hearts, belonging to three parties.
One side used their literary skills to support Zhai Le, another side assisted Commander Yang, and the remaining side commanded the 350 soldiers clad in Zhai Le's armor. Because the camp was small, the more than 1,000 men couldn't form a proper battle formation. They mostly engaged in close-quarters combat with weapons.
wrong--
Zhai Huan quickly realized that the enemy's numbers were not quite right.
As if to confirm his guess, dozens of arrows were shot out from the dark, dense forest every now and then, without even being aimed. The battlefield was only so big, and besides the martial arts soldiers, there were only Shen Tang and Gong Shuwu on their side; the rest were all enemies. Why would they need to aim?
Each arrow that struck the dome of literary energy would create ripples that would then dissipate into nothingness after colliding with the energy.
It seemed futile, but careful observation revealed that after each volley of arrows, the ripples caused by the next volley were larger than the previous one, and the dome, which had been completely still, gradually began to sway. After the ninth volley, cracks appeared on the dome.
Round 10 -
All the arrows were aimed at that crack.
Click!
A crisp sound reached everyone's ears, and the literary dome that had enveloped the entire temporary camp shattered in response. The fragments of literary energy dissipated and drifted away in mid-air.
The remaining arrows were no longer able to stop them!
Most of the arrows were knocked down by the second-class superior soldiers or the lowest-ranking nobles, but some pierced through the ordinary soldiers. Those soldiers with armor were not in immediate danger, but those without armor were in a terrible state, screaming in agony and never getting up again.
As the two sides clashed, the shouts of battle intensified rather than subsided.
Every moment, soldiers were struck in vital areas—neck, face, arm, thigh—leaving behind a pile of severed limbs, their identities unknown. Many martial arts soldiers, struck in fatal spots or pierced by weapons, had half their bodies shattered and vanished silently.
When Yang Duwei saw this scene, he was so angry that his eyes were about to burst.
Can a melee soldier be the same as a living soldier?
Even if the former is defeated, it can still be summoned again.
As long as their martial energy doesn't run out, they will never die.
Ordinary soldiers, however, are made of flesh and blood, and they only have one life.
He was furious and shouted angrily.
"You little thief, prepare to die!"
Raise your sword and slash!
Without any fancy moves or unnecessary actions, he gathered his strength and concentrated it into the blade, his whole being resembling a blazing golden flame. The massive blade energy, carrying boundless killing intent, slashed towards Shen Tang, as if to concentrate all his hatred and killing intent into this one strike.
This strike must cleave the thief's chest open.
Zheng—
The ear-piercing impact slammed into everyone's eardrums.
Shen Tang felt a sharp pain in his tiger's mouth and was forced back several feet by the sword energy before he stopped.
"My life is at stake!"
Commandant Yang roared.
The flames around him almost became a tangible substance.
|ω)
Please allow me to make some changes.
P.S.: I've finished making the changes. If there are still bugs, I'll catch them and fix them when I see them.
1. Half-hearted: This phrase was used before in the story of Qi Bushan, and it means exactly what it says.
(End of this chapter)
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