The other, with strength alone, held off the fifty thousand enemies pursuing him, and even chose to follow him back to defend Liaozhou.
Alas for Hua Yan—his whole life spent in war, all his cultivation carved from battle, yet he barely reached the eighth rank.
And this youth, not yet of age, already possessed eighth‑rank cultivation—an exceptionally powerful fire‑type spiritual adept. Such a genius, he was witnessing for the first time.
Compared to Nan Chu’s foremost master, Xie Guangyuan—also a fire cultivator, already past fifty—this youth’s talent was no less, if not greater.
Just as he sighed in wonder, the youth tossed the lotus‑fire from his hand—blazing white flames erupted, and in an instant hundreds of enemy lives were consumed.
They had already learned that Gong Liu would attack Liaozhou today. Sadly, despite rushing, they seemed unable to arrive in time…
Just as Hua Yan was consumed with worry for Liaozhou’s safety and the lives of his wife and children within, a heavenly anomaly descended over the city’s direction, and the winds and clouds suddenly shifted.
Snow fell as thunder descended, lightning like dragons twisting through the clouds—an uncanny sense of the world’s end.
He saw the youth, usually calm and expressionless, suddenly change his face. The lotus‑fire in his hand swelled, his snow robe flashed, and he spun upward into the air, standing aloft—his eyes, to Hua Yan’s surprise, carried both shock and worry as they turned toward Liaozhou.
Could it be that this youth knows something?
Hua Yan pondered in his heart, yet his greater worry was for Liaozhou. His hands moved faster and faster, until once again he shattered the enemy, leaving them fleeing in disarray.
"General Hua, Liaozhou has changed—there may be no time left to rest."
The youth in a snow‑colored robe descended from the sky, his exquisitely refined face returning to its usual calm.
The clear, calm voice was a few beats faster than usual, and Hua Yan keenly sensed the urgency hidden within.
After the great battle, their numbers had dwindled, with countless wounded, both light and grave. They needed time to recover—but clearly, this was not the moment.
And Hua Yan, already worried about Liaozhou’s situation, nodded immediately at the words: “Young Master Bai’s thoughts are the same as mine.”
Then Hua Yan assigned some soldiers to care for the wounded, and led the remaining ten‑thousand‑plus troops toward Liaozhou.
It was only ten li of ground, yet the march made it unbearably long.
Seeing the sluggish pace, Bai Yan’s long brows finally furrowed. At his cuff, his fist clenched, loosened, and clenched again.
Reason told him that the secret mission to Liaozhou was to protect Hua Yan, not to fret over those ‘unrelated’ people.
Hua Yan’s safety was his mother consort’s repeated command—he must be protected. For the Yong’an Prince’s household, this was a great advantage, and the very key to whether vengeance could be taken in the future.
For this reason, the consort mother spared no cost in sending him to do it personally—only to ensure nothing could go wrong.
Yet he could not help but lift his gaze to the sky, walking distractedly along the road.
For this thunder was fiercer than ever before, and her lightning‑warding staff seemed already broken—could she truly withstand it?
Bai Yan—none other than Li Su, secretly disguised and departed from the capital—finally failed to hold steady, halting his steps and speaking toward Hua Yan.
"General Hua, I think…I must go ahead first…"
..........
At the same time, Murong Yun pressed ever deeper into the enemy ranks; wherever he passed, the land was scorched, all struck by thunder.
Chased relentlessly by her, Gong Liu could bear it no longer. Seeing tens of thousands of soldiers dying beneath the thunder, he felt a pang of sorrow.
And after all this observation, how could he not see? The opponent knew no damned thunder arts—the heaven‑defying thunder power was not theirs, but summoned by some other means.
If his guess was right, the staff in her hand was the very key to summoning and warding off thunder!
Things had come to this—if he delayed any longer, Pingyun’s losses would only grow, and his old face would be utterly disgraced.
Thinking of this, Gong Liu realized he could not answer to the emperor. Gritting his teeth, hardening his heart, he stopped, drew a wooden box from his robe—inside lay a small case of Water Spirit Crystals, priceless, able to instantly restore the spiritual power of cultivators of the same element.
Earlier, it was by relying on a single Fire Spirit Crystal that Su Liu managed to annihilate half his team of cultivators.
At this moment, he too could rely on these to restore his spiritual energy—and then snatch that wretched woman’s staff from her hand.
To stall Murong Yun’s advance, Gong Liu unhesitatingly ordered a force of several thousand elites to hold her off, while he himself found a spot to sit and absorb the crystal’s power.
Above, Murong Yun was somewhat perplexed. Heaven’s thunder had slain many along the way—though they were all enemies, Murong Yun still felt a burden in her heart.
And with her body’s condition added to it, she could no longer tell whether what she was doing was right or wrong.
Just the thought—if she did not eliminate them now, these people would one day attack Liaozhou again—made her grit her teeth and endure.
In truth, she was no longer provoking Heaven’s Way; the thunder’s persistence was nothing but that will refusing to let her go…
Since that’s the case, why shouldn’t she consume some of this world’s life? After all, it’s only a book.
Murong Yun’s eyes were clouded, killing intent and hatred entwined. The needless agitation left her no strength to probe further—after all, wasn’t her role in this world simply that of the vicious supporting woman?
All or nothing—Murong Yun, seeing the enemy rushing to block her, pressed her lips tight. Blood poured from the wound on her back as she fell from midair; with a sweep of her hand, the freshly restored spiritual energy was drawn forth.
Before the blood‑drop even touched the ground, it sprouted into blood‑veined vines. Vines infused with their master’s blood were easier to command—she swept them effortlessly, driving all the foes beneath a bolt of thunder.
Whip after whip, more and more died—Murong Yun’s eyes slowly stained with blood‑red…
Thus her rear was left undefended—and she never expected that wretched Gong Liu would be so devious: feigning retreat on the surface, yet secretly risking his life to conjure a water dragon.
Just as Murong Yun was unguarded and unaware—amid the cascade of violet thunder—the water dragon, freed entirely from Gong Liu’s control, roared and burst straight out of the sky.
One dragon lashed Murong Yun to the ground with its tail, while the other swallowed the Bone Staff in a single gulp and flew toward Gong Liu, who was hiding in the shadows.
"Damn it!"
Murong Yun felt as if her whole body had been shattered by a collision—two ribs in her chest snapped outright, and lying on the ground she could not even move a finger.
Amid the sudden swell of dense thunder, in the corner of her vision she only caught the water dragon that had stolen her staff being mercilessly struck by heavenly lightning, shattered into dispersing spirit‑particles.
Her pupils shrank at the sight; with no time to care for anything else, she desperately tried to command the vines to seize the staff—only to realize, with sorrow… she could not. Her body was no longer capable of even this simple act.
“It’s gone too far… utterly gone too far…”
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