Chapter 277 The Man Who Will Take Your Life
In the unsuspecting eyes, a raging fire of ambition burns.
"As long as Meng Yushan is killed, the Northwest Camp will fall apart."
"At that time, Yumen will fall without a fight!"
"The gates of the Great Sheng kingdom will be wide open for the iron cavalry of my Wule!"
"Those still wavering allies, once they see me carrying Meng Yushan's head back, will they still dare not support me!"
He suddenly stood up.
"Pass down the order!"
"All troops, prepare for battle!"
"Once the wooden tower engages the defending troops, we will circle around to the rear and launch a direct attack on the northwest camp!"
"Whoever takes Mengyushan's head will be rewarded with a thousand taels of gold!"
...
It was around midnight.
The sounds of battle were deafening.
The raging army, like a black tide, surged wildly toward the walls of Yumen.
The firelight illuminated half the sky.
Just as the fighting at Yumen was at its fiercest, an elite cavalry force, like a ghost in the night, silently bypassed the main battlefield and, under the cover of the wind and snow, rushed straight towards the poorly defended Northwest Camp.
He took the lead, the curved blade in his hand gleaming with a bloodthirsty light in the firelight.
The empty Northwest Camp is right in front of me!
"Charge in!"
Unaware that he was brandishing his scimitar, his eyes flashing with the ferocity of a cornered beast fighting for its life.
"Kill Meng Yushan! A reward of a thousand taels of gold! A promotion of three ranks!"
He cleaved a Dasheng soldier who charged at him with a single stroke and headed straight for the commander's tent!
The curtain was suddenly ripped open by the blade of his sword!
Inside the tent, a figure slowly turned around.
The man was dressed in black armor, his figure as upright as a pine tree, and he held a long spear, the tip of which gleamed with a cold, eerie light in the firelight.
He wore a hideous black iron mask on his face.
Behind the mask, those eyes were colder than the wind and snow outside the tent.
"You old bastard, prepare to die!"
The scimitar sliced through the spear, sparks flying.
He cried out in surprise, nearly losing his footing.
wrong!
Rumor has it that Meng Yushan is already over fifty years old and terminally ill!
But the person in front of me, in terms of physique and bearing, showed no signs of old age or illness whatsoever!
That chilling killing intent was so overwhelming that he could hardly breathe!
"You...you are not Meng Yushan!"
"Who are you!"
The man behind the mask slowly raised the spear in his hand.
The spearhead was pointed at the unsuspecting throat.
"The one who will take your life."
Before the words were even finished, the spear thrust out, as swift as a dragon in flight!
Like a black lightning bolt, it pierced through the wind and snow!
Before they knew it, a blur appeared before their eyes, and a chilling sense of death instantly enveloped their entire bodies!
He instinctively raised his sword to block!
"clang--!"
A deafening clang of metal clashing!
Unbeknownst to them, they felt an overwhelming force surge towards them, and their tiger's mouth was instantly shattered!
The scimitar in his hand almost flew out!
His warhorse let out a mournful cry and was forced to retreat repeatedly by the immense force!
How could that be!
Unaware of the danger, I was horrified!
He boasted that he was the greatest warrior in Ule, possessing immense strength!
But his opponent's seemingly casual shot left him completely unable to resist!
Who... is this person?!
Upon seeing this, his personal guards roared and charged forward, brandishing their swords, trying to buy the unsuspecting man a chance to catch his breath.
With a flick of his wrist, the spear transformed into a sky full of spear shadows!
"Pfft! Pfft! Pfft!"
Several muffled thuds!
Those fearless Ule guards didn't even have time to see the other side's movements before their throats were pierced by the sharp wind of the gun!
Fresh blood gushed out, blooming like dazzling red plum blossoms on the snow.
One by one, they fell off their horses.
Unaware of what was happening, their eyes widened in horror!
He was horrified to discover that...
This "Meng Yushan" is not only highly skilled!
His personal guards, who were originally few in number, were now... growing in number as the fight went on!
Suddenly, horns sounded in unison within the silent camp!
Countless torches were lit at the same time!
The entire camp was illuminated as if it were daytime!
Countless soldiers of the Great Sheng Army charged out from behind the tents, from the snowdrifts, from every unbelievable corner, shouting as they fought their way out!
That imposing presence hardly suggests a lack of manpower!
My unsuspecting heart sank suddenly.
not good!
We've fallen for their trap!
The armies of the Great Sheng were everywhere!
The shouts of battle were like death knells from hell!
They're surrounded!
We are completely surrounded!
"withdraw!"
"Retreat immediately!"
As long as the green hills remain, there will always be firewood to burn.
He no longer cared about dignity or Meng Yushan's head.
He suddenly turned his horse around and fled frantically back the way he came!
It's easy to get in, but hard to get out.
The Northwest Camp was not a place he could come and go as he pleased!
A cold arrow, seemingly from nowhere, struck him squarely in the left shoulder!
The force was so great that it nearly threw him off his horse!
He let out a muffled groan, and his vision went black.
He dared not linger, but gritted his teeth and squeezed the horse's belly with all his might.
Behind them were the desperate screams of the Ule soldiers, the muffled thuds of weapons piercing flesh, and the wailing of their own men in complete rout.
That night, the Ule coalition suffered heavy losses.
Unaware of the danger, he fled in disarray, like a stray dog with its remaining troops.
In the wind and snow.
Zhou Congxian touched the mask on his face.
He stared in the direction the unsuspecting man had fled, his eyes deep and unwavering.
Although we won this battle, it was only the beginning.
As long as he's there.
No one can even dream of taking a single step into the Great Sheng!
The snow was still falling, landing on the back of his hand.
He raised his head and looked towards the direction of the capital.
She's probably building a snowman with her child right now.
Snow and wind swept through Yumen Pass.
The wind blew all the way to the capital.
Fine snow, like salt, was sprinkled thinly on the blue tiles of the Duke of Zhenguo's mansion, and also covered the bare branches in the courtyard.
Rows of brand-new red lanterns hung under the eaves, indicating that the end of the year was approaching.
The festive red stood out against the vast expanse of white snow, yet it also carried a hint of loneliness.
Meng Shilan sat by the window of the warm pavilion, twirling a silver needle between her fingertips.
Outside the window is the large snowman she built with her two children that morning.
crooked.
So cute!
The wedding date for the Zhou and Meng families was set for the following spring.
But now it is already the twelfth lunar month, and he is still thousands of miles away in Yumen.
Not a single letter, not a single word.
"Mother."
Fu'er, carrying a hand warmer, ran to her side in small steps.
When will Father come back?
"Fu'er misses her father."
Meng Shilan's hand paused slightly.
The needle tip unexpectedly pierced my fingertip.
A drop of bright red blood quickly seeped out.
She casually put her finger in her mouth, and the faint taste of blood spread across her tongue.
"Soon."
She smiled and patted her daughter's head, her voice as gentle as ever.
"Father is out fighting bad guys. After he's done, he'll come back to spend the New Year with Fu'er."
"Really?"
Fu'er's eyes sparkled with anticipation.
"Yes, really."
Beside her, Shuang'er was holding the drowsy little chubby boy, gently patting his back.
She looked at Meng Shilan's calm profile, but her eyes were full of heartache.
"Miss, Miss He has arrived."
Outside the door, the maid's voice announced the news.
Before the words were even finished, a figure rushed in through the curtain, bringing with it a chilling aura.
He Ran's hair and shoulders were covered with snowflakes that hadn't yet melted.
"Shi Lan!"
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