The terrain of Liaozhou City was excellent, with only two gates front and back, and a moat dug around it. Once the gates were shut and the bridges withdrawn, attacking it became difficult.
Since ancient times, in siege warfare, when spiritual cultivation was equal, it required five times the troops to take a city.
In terms of troops, Liaozhou City was said to have one hundred thousand, but earlier Hua Yan and Hua Wu had already transferred away sixty thousand.
According to the battle reports, Pingyun State’s forces numbered one hundred eighty thousand. Yet in Murong Yun’s view, they must have already used part of their troops to lure Hua Yan into personally leading a pursuit, and likewise dispatched soldiers to block at Hua Wu.
Taken together, the forces would surely not be too frightening.
But the exact numbers could only be known after meeting Su Liu.
As they reached the foot of the city wall, the shouting outside, the clamor, and the thunderous war drums rolled in. At the gates, many soldiers were already reinforcing them without pause.
Above, the archers had already taken their positions. Su Liu stood in the very center, now clad in armor, and this time holding a longbow.
Deputy General Su Liu, how many troops does the enemy have?
Murong Yun, too lazy to take the stairs, leapt straight up. Seeing the densely packed troops across the moat, swarming like ants, gave her a headache.
“Roughly one hundred thousand.”
Su Liu only gave a surprised glance at Murong Yun, who had followed along, and at this moment had no time to say anything to her.
After all, dealing with the enemy below was already enough to keep him busy.
“Archers, ready your line!”
Su Liu infused his voice with spiritual energy and shouted the command. On the wall, rows of archers snapped into place, three ranks rotating front to back to maintain the highest rate of fire.
One hundred thousand—this number was more than twice the city’s defenders, and the enemy also had a massive vanguard of cultivators.
Murong Yun looked at the dense mass, the thousand‑strong front ranks with spiritual energies flowing in many colors. It was clear the enemy intended to send cultivators forward to absorb the arrows and reduce casualties.
“They really are willing to pay the price,” Murong Yun muttered under his breath. This time she didn’t need to ask Su Liu; with a glance she could see there were barely a hundred cultivators on the wall, and apart from Su Liu, the strongest was only fourth rank.
At such times, the number and strength of cultivators can greatly sway the battle—after all, this is a world of cultivation.
Ordinary people, in the end, are nothing but cannon fodder.
“Go now. A war of this scale is no longer something a woman like you can meddle in.”
Su Liu’s expression hardened as he beheld the thousand cultivators in the vanguard. How could they withstand such force? Heaven, earth, and man alike seemed to have abandoned Nanchu.
Though he was a seventh‑rank cultivator, his fire attribute was naturally weakened in this snowy weather.
Not to mention, the enemy’s commanding general was none other than Gong Liu, the foremost master of Pingyun, an eighth‑rank water cultivator.
If General Hua Yan were in Liaozhou City, perhaps they could fight.
What a pity—this whole chain of events was clearly a scheme by those bastards of Pingyun.
Su Liu’s advice to Murong Yun was, in truth, well‑intentioned. In his heart he already believed the city could not be held, and urging her to leave was his way of trying to preserve her life.
As the commander of Nanchu, he could only fight to the death—surrender was unthinkable!
Murong Yun could not accept his earnest intention, not yet. She only glanced at Su Liu’s death‑bound face, and then, to his shock, leapt from the city wall.
As the two armies were about to clash, she moved like a fluttering butterfly, like a nimble swallow. Su Liu saw only a faint green shadow as Murong Yun sped swiftly toward the moat below.
“…Madwoman!"
After witnessing the opponent’s reckless stunt, Su Liu only had time to shout a low command.
Good words cannot dissuade a doomed soul. Now he could no longer hesitate—seeing the Pingyun army drawing ever closer below, Su Liu raised his hand, ready to strike.
Meanwhile, atop the opposing war chariot, Gong Liu—the foremost master of Pingyun—gripped his spear, clad in ornate armor. Catching sight of the fleeting figure before the city wall, he instinctively furrowed his brow.
“General, the Deputy General Xue Dao (Blood‑Blade)… still has not returned.” A soldier answered cautiously.
“Forget him. The chance must not be lost—this is the best moment to storm the city. Liaozhou will be ours!”
Gong Liu had always been arrogant. This time, following the Emperor’s scheme to trap Liaozhou had already drained his patience. Seeing that he could soon storm in and slaughter those damned Nanchu people one by one, he had no time to bother with Xue Dao, that well‑connected hanger‑on.
“Soldiers, hear my command! Whoever is first to break into Liaozhou shall be rewarded with ten thousand gold!”
As his words fell, the war drums suddenly changed—the harsher, more murderous rhythm struck at the heart, stirring everyone’s blood to boil.
The vanguard cultivators were each wrapped in spiritual energy, multicolored auras weaving into powerful shields.
At that moment, Su Liu’s orders were issued simultaneously.
“Loose the arrows!”
As the command fell, countless whistling sounds filled the air—tens of thousands of special arrows rained from the walls, crossing the moat, only to be completely blocked by the spiritual shields.
All of this was within Su Liu’s expectations. He merely continued coldly: “Switch! Second rank, loose!”
It was merely an exchange: the arrows drained the spiritual energy of thousands of enemy cultivators, while their shields wrapped the ordinary soldiers, keeping them from dying under the rain of arrows.
Yet the Pingyun forces were clearly not just there to take blows. Behind the shields, powerful cultivators of the gold‑fire element had already taken position, joining forces to unleash a mighty spiritual technique.
Murong Yun carefully dodged the arrow that grazed her scalp, then sped along the moat beneath the wall, scattering all the rose seeds in her hand.
Fortunately, she had reached the seventh rank. Had she still been at the sixth, unable to command the skies, she would never have dared such a perilous act.
In the midst of ten thousand troops casting ranged skills… she was planting flowers…
Above her, Pingyun’s ranged skills were ready—the massive fireballs and golden arrows shot upward at the archers on the wall.
Some attacks were blocked by allied cultivators, but others were not—soldiers were blasted into clouds of blood mist or burned alive.
But soon, more men filled the ranks, and under the relentless arrows, Pingyun’s grand cultivator “turtle‑shell” shield was torn open with a breach.
At the moment the spirit shield broke, Su Liu leapt from the wall, bow in hand. Drawing in midair, his violent fire‑energy blazed like a sun, melting the drifting snow into vapor around him.
The arrow forged from all of Su Liu’s spiritual energy flew forth with the tens of thousands of arrows.
The fiery spirit‑arrow fell like a meteor, spawning phantom fire‑arrows along its path. They rained like countless falling stars, reddening half the sky—magnificent… yet extremely dangerous!
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