Chapter 33: A Blue Cloak
Amidst the ten-thousand-strong army, there was a single blue cloak.
On the battlefield, with the young Hidden Official wielding an iron spear as the center, a large empty space quickly appeared within a radius of three hundred meters.
The densely packed ranks of demon beasts kept surging backward, like layers of waves clustering together. Yet not a single demon beast dared to strike first. There was even no clamor—only retreat, retreat again.
When the blue-clad figure drifted down to land, there was no earth-shattering commotion. When he placed himself on the battlefield, he was still standing on the same battlefield.
Aside from the chaotic army of demon beasts, with the clashing of iron armor and the striking of weapons mixed with the low-voiced shouts and reprimands of the overseeing officers, there was only the sound of heavy breathing.
Trapped in an encirclement—this was probably the truest form of a lone army deep in enemy territory.
Occasionally, a few greedy demon beasts wanted to draw their bows or pull out their blades, wondering if there was a chance to kill this infamous Hidden Official.
They were quickly stopped by the demon beasts around them. "Are you tired of living?! If you want to die, don't drag us along to be targeted by that demon god."
A man's reputation is like a tree's shadow.
Those who are not demon beasts of the Wilderness and have never fought against the Sword Qi Great Wall will never truly understand the real weight of the term "the final Hidden Official."
This Wilderness army, responsible for luring the enemy, had two main commanders—one in the open and one in the shadows—both among the eighteen new throne-seat holders.
In the open, there was a single rider with a great banner planted behind him. On the banner, ancient seal-script characters in gold emitted faint halos of light, enveloping the battlefield.
In the shadows was a female Daoist practitioner who had cast a spell of concealment, temporarily appearing as a gaunt woman.
A few steps in front of her stood a young woman wearing colorful robes, barefoot, with five streamers fluttering about, their colors corresponding to the five elements. She was responsible for beating the war drum.
About a dozen miles from the young Hidden Official, there was an old veteran Earth Immortal demon beast—a seasoned old Nascent Soul who had experienced many battles. He had made considerable gains on the Fuyao Continent battlefield. Although he had not reached the fifth realm, his cultivation had advanced significantly. At that moment, he was seated on a chariot inlaid with thousands of white bone corpses. It was a heterodox imitation of a military formation, building a skull mound to form an altar.
In his heart, he was puzzled: "We haven't suffered any losses at all. Is he putting on a show—loud thunder, but little rain? Or has he sent a talisman avatar to descend on the battlefield? After showing off to gain some prestige, will he withdraw?"
The old Nascent Soul's "attendant lads" standing in a circle beneath him were all silver-armored warriors two zhang tall. Their faces and arms were covered in red cloud-pattern talismans, drawn using the essence blood of Haoran cultivators as cinnabar.
If not for being conscripted for this battle, this old Nascent Soul, who cultivated military divine powers, would have been able to run rampant across a region.
The Wilderness demon beasts participating in this ambush were almost all unquestionably elite—seasoned fighters who had been to the Haoran battlefield.
Most of them belonged to the personal army of that new throne-seat great demon. There were also several troops that had come to join and form formations here, including a mountain gate army of the throne-seat great demon Guanxiang. Though only eight thousand strong, their combat power was extremely formidable. As for what private deals he had made with the great demon Guanxiang and what prices were agreed upon—who knows?
No!
The old Nascent Soul's heart suddenly tensed. It was just a keen intuition nurtured by long years on the battlefield.
He didn't care if he became the Hidden Official's first target and a scapegoat. He immediately formed a hand seal with one hand while slapping the altar heavily with the other. The souls imprisoned within the bones instantly wailed in agony, as if being fried in a cauldron of oil. The altar's surroundings instantly became shrouded in thick baleful qi, condensing above into a cloud of darkness.
Yet there was no visible movement from that most damned but still alive young Hidden Official.
In an instant.
It was like mowing grass.
On the ground, a bright red "carpet" appeared, with the severed limbs and corpses as decorative patterns.
At the edge of this "carpet," a young demon beast that had successfully transformed into human form only a few years ago watched helplessly as its kinsmen in front were suddenly dismembered on the spot, dying without a sound.
In its hand, it held a war saber said to be forged from a hundred refinements by some dynasty on a Haoran continent. Its face was bloodless, and the tip of the saber trembled violently.
Back then, on the Fuyao Continent battlefield, the Wilderness demon beasts had stripped armor from the dead warriors of various dynasties and collected massive amounts of weapons. On the Tongye Continent, which had almost no resistance, they had obtained countless stocks from intact armories of various mountain-locked states—brand-new, shiny swords, spears, bows, crossbows, and well-constructed siege equipment. The ease of acquisition and the sheer quantity made it feel as though the Wilderness had long since built an armory in the Haoran world.
The next moment, the young demon beast holding the war saber suddenly felt its vision drop, as if the sky had risen higher.
It turned out that, along with itself, the surrounding demon beasts had all been cut in half by something invisible. Countless intestines tumbled out of their bodies, steaming with bloody mist on the ground.
The next next moment, even more demon beasts on the battlefield, without warning, had their armor shatter, their weapons snap, and their bodies burst apart—as if countless threads were recklessly slicing through blocks of tofu.
Within a radius of three thousand meters, there were no survivors.
If one looked down from above, one could see the full picture of the central battlefield and realize how shocking it was.
That ever-expanding "carpet" was like a Haoran "brocade pile of ashes."
Back in the early days of the Sword Qi Great Wall, there was indeed a small group of sword cultivators who most enjoyed torturing demon beasts on the battlefield to pay them back in color.
In the distance, the concealed female Daoist suddenly narrowed her eyes. "Could this vile fiend have already reached the 'spirit-to' level of martial artists?"
Or was it something else?!
After being repeatedly exaggerated by the Wilderness demon beasts, the image of the "Hidden Official" in the Wilderness world had become increasingly terrifying—simply an absolute existence with both strategy and martial power, flawless in every way.
The key was that all the exaggerated claims, upon careful consideration and scrutiny, seemed to... make sense.
This led to an unprecedented "gilding" on the Wilderness land, especially in the mountains.
For example, in the Fuyao Continent campaign, Bai Ye's single-handed swordplay toppling several throne seats was because the Hidden Official had persuaded this most proud figure of the human world. The unknown sword immortal who killed Wanyan Laojing was the Hidden Official's confidant. The multi-layered iron bucket formation set up by the Southern Po-suo Continent along the coast was the Hidden Official's meticulous deployment. And the rapid fall of Tongye Continent was actually the Hidden Official's plan to lure the enemy in, allowing the Wilderness's sixty military camps to let down their guard, so that in the north, on the Baoping Continent, the Dali Iron Cavalry—secretly forged by the Hidden Official—would inflict heavy losses on them...
In short, everything on the Haoran battlefield gradually transformed into this Hidden Official's foresight, his premeditation, and his—this Chen fellow—single-handed reversal of the tide.
To put it simply, the reason the Wilderness lost was only because Haoran was lucky enough to have a young Hidden Official named Chen.
The Wilderness's loss was not due to the fault of war.
Perhaps because deep down, they refused to admit defeat to those scholars of Haoran. Relatively speaking, they were more willing to accept that they had lost to the Sword Qi Great Wall, lost to a certain existence, to an inscrutable fate.
Still standing in the somewhat empty center of the battlefield, Chen Ping'an slightly turned his head and looked at the old Nascent Soul who had shown off a military art.
He smiled at the Nascent Soul, showing his teeth.
"Good courage. Isn't this you seeking to trade punches with me?"
The old Nascent Soul felt a chill run down his spine, as if falling into an ice cave. He wanted to use an escape technique—better part of valor—but found that he could not move.
Was his end near?
The old Nascent Soul saw stars in front of his eyes. "My life is over!"
The uninvited guest, who had likely used the Earth-shrinking Art, casually stamped down a foot, chopping off the Nascent Soul's head.
Along with the head, the entire spine was crushed into pulp—a puddle of mud.
This kick also trampled the skull mound altar, and the shrill sounds of wailing from the white bones gradually dissipated with the wind.
Incidentally, the silver-armored warriors who tried to protect him were shattered.
Chen Ping'an hooked his five fingers like claws, spreading a net-like grasp to suppress the remnant soul of the old Nascent Soul.
Looking far into the distance, Chen Ping'an stared at that new throne-seat holder with great patience.
Thinking back to that year, on the front line, all fourteen throne-seat great demons were present.
Chen Ping'an held the spear in one hand while casually pressing down with the other. His thick fist intent flowed through his five fingers, and the true meaning of various thunder techniques rolled along the lines of his palm, directly setting up a thunder formation. He refined the old Nascent Soul's soul into wisps of green smoke, crackling and hissing. Truly a long-established, not-weak Nascent Soul—it could still hold on for a while.
That new throne-seat holder, the backbone of the army, remained impassive, showing no sign of personally entering the fray.
Instead, nearby on the battlefield, the first demon beast daring to speak finally appeared—a martial arts grandmaster bearing martial fortune.
Its first words were extremely provocative.
"You're that Hidden Official who's the world's number one in eating soft rice, aren't you?"
This was a leading general of the Wilderness. Their official titles were completely chaotic. This fellow's rank was similar to a chiliarch. He was burly, with blazing eyes, wielding double axes, and wearing a set of "Divine Man Dew-Gathering Armor" from the military lineage.
He shook his double axes and strode forward, the demon beasts on both sides being bounced aside as he forced a path open.
He stepped on a corpse and ground a skull that still had its eyes open with his toe. He locked his gaze on the blue-clad man, who seemed relaxed, with a look of deep-seated hatred in his eyes.
"Chen, I've been in secluded cultivation for years. Unfortunately, I couldn't make it to the Sword Qi Great Wall. I heard that my master and several fellow disciples died at the hands of some nameless bastard sword cultivator. Perfect—I'll take my revenge on you, the Hidden Official."
Chen Ping'an didn't even look at him directly, smiling. "You'd better gather all your remaining fellow disciples so you can fight me one-on-one together. When you reach the underworld, you can tell them clearly whose hand snuffed out the incense of your lineage."
The distant-traveling demon beast cursed loudly, then hurled an axe, which spun through the air toward him.
Chen Ping'an raised a hand and could have crushed it directly, but he hesitated and restrained most of his fist intent.
Because he quickly sensed the hidden mechanism within the axe. It was somewhat ingenious. If fighting against an opponent of the same realm, the opponent would probably suffer.
Sure enough, an arm's length away, the axe exploded with a roar, with a power nearly equivalent to the voluntary dissolution of a Nascent Soul cultivator.
For a moment, dust flew everywhere.
The demon beast was about to throw the second axe. After all, facing the Hidden Official directly, it couldn't afford to be stingy with this treasured heirloom of its sect.
Unexpectedly, the other party had already taken a step and used Earth-shrinking to arrive in front of it. The bastard was completely unharmed! This made a look of utter disbelief appear on its face, but that didn't stop it from surging its fist intent to its peak, ready to fight to the death.
Chen Ping'an had already thrust his spear through its throat, lifting it high, then gently twisted his wrist and flung the corpse away.
The demon beast martial artist's eyes were wide open. It still had so many finishing moves unused—how could it die so obscurely...
The corpse fell heavily to the ground. Blood gushed from the hole in its throat. It still clutched the axe in its hand.
The nearby demon beasts had already scattered in all directions. They only saw the Hidden Official glance at the axe and mutter a curse.
Among the demon beast ranks, a woman suddenly stopped in her tracks. Her body stiff. She was facing away from the blue-clad man, not daring to turn around.
Because at that moment, on her shoulder, there was a spear "resting."
Then she heard the man's voice, laughing: "Judging by the flow of your fist intent, you're from the same sect as him. You're just running away? Not even helping to collect the corpse?"
Her voice trembling, she said, "He was my senior grandmaster, extremely harsh and unkind. When my master and the others died on the Sword Qi Great Wall, he became the sect leader and treated us arbitrarily, even killing us. If I didn't come here with him to amass some battle merits for him to beg for rewards from the throne-seat holder, he would have given me to that Talisman True Lord to be a plaything and cauldron. Hidden Official, I have never been to Haoran, never killed anyone there, really..."
While speaking, her mind raced, seeking a way to escape, to save herself.
Chen Ping'an chuckled. "Then you speak the Tongye Continent dialect quite fluently."
Realizing she had been tricked, she bowed her head and bent low to flee.
But the iron spear shifted sideways and cut off her head.
In what her eyes saw, heaven and earth kept flipping.
That's not right! She had clearly been speaking the Wilderness dialect.
Damn that Hidden Official. Truly as the legends said—full of tricks and sinister schemes.
Chen Ping'an frowned slightly, raising his left hand. With two fingers, he pinched a sneak-attacking life-bound flying sword.
The sword, about two inches long, trembled violently, humming and wailing.
Only after being caught red-handed by Chen Ping'an did the flying sword show its outline. Upon closer inspection, the "flying sword" turned out to be a piece of Daoist text written in black characters.
A remnant of the sword cultivator Huiting's lineage?
So this sneaky sword cultivator not only inherited the swordsmanship of Huiting's lineage but also traveled far and wide, copying the water-cloud writings recorded by Zhou Mi on cliffs and mountains, preserving their spirit and intent, then assembling the characters into a book?
This flying sword had a life-bound divine ability similar to "mountain-sealing."
It could both suppress the flow of true qi in martial arts masters and target cultivators' spiritual qi circulation.
As for the duration of the seal—that depended on the target's ability.
With his two fingers still restraining the flying sword, Chen Ping'an instantly expanded his mind to find the hidden traces of that sword cultivator.
Clearly, the owner of the flying sword also had a small stronghold. They would never waste this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to surround and kill.
Immediately, a demon beast cultivator drew his bow like a full moon. A talisman arrow engraved with complex patterns shot out, headed straight for the Hidden Official's face.
The arrow split into five in midair. Aside from the straight trajectory, the other four arced toward Chen Ping'an.
But they seemed to hit an invisible wall, shattering inch by inch.
However, as the five arrows fell like snowflakes, they had already formed a formation, creating a "five-arrow zone" as geomancers called it.
Another burly demon beast roared and hurled a spear that was the sect's mountain-guarding treasure.
Lightning of different colors intertwined at the spear tip, but it did not aim at the Hidden Official. Instead, it shot into the sky, instantly creating a sea of five-colored clouds.
Chen Ping'an casually glanced upward.
Trapped in the five-arrow zone, the cloud sea above showed signs of a "cyclic tribulation."
The flying sword's mountain-sealing divine ability created the five-arrow zone; through the generation and restraint of the five elements, it aimed to bring about an artificial heavenly tribulation—a five-thunder bombardment from above.
Perfect cooperation.
Within ten miles, it was as if an ancient Thunder God deity wielded a long whip, madly striking the ground. Thousands of colorful lightning whips wildly tore through the earth.
Could it succeed?
Had it succeeded?
The flying sword broke free from its restraint. It flashed like a beam of light, then skimmed under the ground like a trail of a firefly, disappearing in an instant. At the opposite direction from where the sword tip had pointed, a wooden-faced woman wearing crude armor, very cautious, used a concealment technique as well. She quietly retrieved her life-bound flying sword. It spun around in her qi palace, and eventually the characters drifted toward a tall mountain of heart-essence, once again becoming a cliff-side inscription.
Huiting, her senior uncle, walked the path of "cutting yin," but she walked the path of "cutting yang."
Thus, she was most effective against martial arts masters on the battlefield.
A moment later, within the swirling sandstorm, a blue figure slowly emerged.
The demon beast that had drawn the bow didn't hesitate to shout with its mind: "Retreat!"
It dared not flee by leaping into the air; instead, it darted like a fish through the military formation.
Chen Ping'an walked forward slowly, lightly flicking his foot.
A stone hit the bow-drawing demon beast's head. With a bang, its head exploded.
Chen Ping'an raised his hand, grabbed toward the cloud sea above, and then gently swept it forward.
The spear pierced through its owner's chest, nailing him in place.
The female sword cultivator never moved. In fact, she deliberately sent out her flying sword to void the qi palace of another demon beast, clearly using a framing technique.
A brilliant ray of light suddenly flashed before her eyes.
A spear slammed down, splitting her body in two.
The flying sword immediately returned to its master, but the blue-clad man casually grabbed it and ground it to dust.
On the battlefield, a demon beast sat on the ground, holding the corpse of what seemed to be its partner or fellow disciple. Its mouth wide open, face covered in tears, it could not cry out.
Another demon beast knelt on one knee, one hand gently closing the eyes of its master, who refused to close them in death.
More demon beasts looked at that blue cloak—only with fear.
Near the great banner, the female Daoist held a whisk and sighed softly. "Why didn't you tell them his true cultivation level?"
Since he could create that heaven-earth connection, if he had only appeared on a mountain peak to observe from afar, that would have been one thing.
But since he dared to personally enter the battlefield, the last Hidden Official of the Sword Qi Great Wall wouldn't be so hot-headed as to throw away a huge battle merit, would he?
The golden-armored god-like figure sitting tall on horseback said indifferently, "On the battlefield, life and death are one's own responsibility."
The female Daoist sighed regretfully. "All those good lads died for nothing. They were still your capable subordinates under your command. Don't you find it a pity?"
The golden-armored god-like figure replied, "If you still have such a soft heart, I'm afraid Fellow Daoist Rouzhi will end up with her heart in knots. Take it easy—be careful not to follow in Huang Luan's footsteps."
The female Daoist said helplessly, "Of course, I can't be as hard-hearted as you."
Killing sword cultivators of the Sword Qi Great Wall, killing Haoran cultivators—she had absolutely no feminine compassion. But watching her homeland's talented youths, who should have had bright futures, die like this was truly painful.
In the old days on the Sword Qi Great Wall battlefield, the fourteen old throne-seat holders of the Wilderness gathered on the front line. Under the watchful eyes of everyone, a young man whom none of the military camps had ever heard of, with no written records, fought in Ning Yao's place in a one-on-one duel and eventually killed Li Zhen.
Later, Xiao Xun betrayed the Sword Qi Great Wall, and he took charge of the Summer Retreat Palace. Hence the saying "Southern Gift-holder, Northern Hidden Official."
Afterward came the city's ascension, leaving only this last Hidden Official neither human nor ghost to guard the city wall.
So the Wilderness demon beasts said mockingly that he had been guarding their gate for so many years.
Unexpectedly, he soon came to collect debts from the Wilderness: Xianzan City no longer dared to claim itself higher than the Sword Qi Great Wall; he confronted the Crimson Concubine, pulled up the entire Yeluo River like a tug-of-war, forcibly intercepting part of its water fortune; his sword opened Tuoyue Mountain; he killed the Wilderness ancestor's founding disciple, the great demon culprit; and finally, he snatched away a round of bright moonlight.
Before that confrontation between the Middle Earth Confucian Temple and the Wilderness's Tuoyue Mountain—between the two worlds—there had been some seemingly joking interludes before the words "Then let's fight."
Many of the peak cultivators of Haoran might still think that the Wilderness great demons were deliberately trying to annoy Chen Ping'an with words.
But that wasn't the case. In the eyes of the Wilderness great demons, they truly believed that the significance of Chen Ping'an was at least equivalent to three throne-seat holders—at least.
The last Haoran cultivator to have this honor was Zheng Juzhong of White Emperor City, who had secretly merged with the Dao in the Wilderness and caused trouble everywhere.
Before the female Daoist, who had been hiding her identity, the valiant-eyed woman in colorful robes dropped the drumsticks she held. She was about to make a move when the female Daoist lightly placed a whisk on her shoulder, warning with a mental voice: "Don't be impulsive."
Ignoring the warning, she reached out, brushed aside the whisk, and lightly leaped. Barefoot, she landed on the drumhead, her face radiant, full of spirit. She shouted loudly: "Hidden Official!"
She was like a shaman priestess who had stepped out of an ancient mural—her posture graceful, her waist supple. But each time she stomped on the drum, it was extremely vigorous and powerful, as if the colorful streamers served as drumsticks striking the drumhead.
She was using this method to beat the drum.
An ancient, desolate rhythm resounded through heaven and earth, stirring and tragic.
The Wilderness army's blood boiled in an instant. The drumbeats seemed like an ancient ballad that awakened the bloodline memories engraved in their souls, rousing their yang energy and bolstering their courage.
She had clearly used military arts.
Was she rallying her own side's morale to launch a mass assault on the Hidden Official?
Or was she inviting the Hidden Official to break the formation?
Chen Ping'an lifted his gaze slightly and looked at her from afar.
He vaguely remembered that she seemed to be a brainless woman. Back then, she and a flock of beauties had ridden a chariot all the way to the Sword Qi Great Wall to gawk at him.
On the mountain peaks, everyone held their breath, their minds drawn by the battle situation.
The young emperor of the Chengguan Dynasty, Huang Mang, stood leaning against a railing. No one knew what he was thinking.
Beside him was the state preceptor of a dynasty on the Aiai Continent. The old man was named Ding Aoyou, skilled in the arts of "penetrating the mystical," "spirit summoning," and "nightmare prayer." He had just broken through to the immortal realm.
The old man sighed, "Entering an enemy force as if it were empty land—unheard of."
If that Sword Immortal Chen had exchanged his spear for a sword, it would truly be as the poem says: "One sword once could stand against a million soldiers."
The commander of a dynasty on the Golden Armor Continent, Guo Jinxian, a martial artist at the ninth realm, said with surging emotion, "A true man should be like this!"
Earlier, the spear that Chen Ping'an had borrowed was Guo Jinxian's family heirloom.
The esteemed scholar of the academy, Luo Guoyu, murmured to himself, "He's finally here."
That young Hidden Official who had once commanded the Sword Qi Great Wall campaign must be the Haoran figure who understood the Wilderness best—probably without exception.
Earlier, there had been a debate within the Confucian Temple. Some blamed him, others defended him. But in truth, both sides had the same wish: they hoped he would come to the Wilderness, offer advice, and perhaps even command a certain battle line with overall strategy. For example, Luo Guoyu felt that since Chen Ping'an could be the Hidden Official of the Sword Qi Great Wall, why couldn't he be the "Hidden Official" of the Haoran world? And the "Execution Official" as well, all entrusted to him.
The old state preceptor suddenly said with concern, "The enemy will definitely have methods targeting one to two peak mountain cultivators."
This mutual luring of the enemy deeper—it all depended on who could hold out longer, who could swallow the bait first.
That heaven-earth connection—Yu Xuan, the great heavenly master of Longhu Mountain, Fiery Dragon True Person—they had all made their moves.
On the Wilderness side, their peak mountain combat power had suffered no losses. Those beasts with devastating killing power only needed to watch from the sidelines.
And theirs was just one of the Wilderness's three battle lines.
As for the battle line where the Dali Iron Cavalry and the Dashou border army were the main force, there had recently been some trouble. Somehow, the Dali Dynasty had become the suzerain state of the Dashou Dynasty. For the martial generals of the Dashou border army, who wouldn't be furious? While they fought and bled outside, Dashou, originally ranked fourth in Haoran, suddenly became a tributary state to another country. What kind of joke was this!
Very interesting.
Including Luo Guoyu, the "young people's" deployment of troops was more conservative than that of the old-timers like Ding Aoyou, but once they thought it was time to act, they were far more radical.
Huang Mang raised his arm and swung it forward vigorously.
At the foot of the mountain, the Chengguan Iron Cavalry, in formation, began to charge.
Before descending the mountain, the Hidden Official, who had suddenly arrived on the battlefield, said to them: "In the coming offensive, there is absolutely no need to worry about my safety."
Huang Mang had no moral qualms, no fear of being resented by the Hidden Official afterward.
On the battlefield, since you, Chen Ping'an, dared to boast so loud and make such a bold claim, then I, Huang Mang, and the Chengguan border army won't stand on ceremony.
We believe in your crazy words, and we'll also do great deeds!
On the battlefield, Chen Ping'an held his spear aslant, the tip pointing from afar at that new throne-seat holder.
His face was full of mockery.
What, as the main commander, still playing the coward?
The burly, golden-armored commander urged his horse forward with his spear, his visor down, wearing a splendid set of golden armor. Two miniature meteor hammers—one red, one black—hung at his waist.
Not only in the Haoran world but even in the Wilderness, Feiran, the common ruler of the world, still didn't know the true Dao foundation of this new throne-seat holder.
His Dao partner, Guike, seemed to know some inside story, but due to some prohibition or taboo, she could not speak of it. Feiran didn't care—as long as he served the Wilderness, what did it matter where he came from?
The golden-armored rider remained unmoving as a mountain, saying indifferently, "Interfering with my Dao integration. How outrageous."
Chen Ping'an thought for a moment, quickly sifted through his memories, and understood in an instant. He laughed loudly, "You wanted to emulate Zheng Juzhong and merge with the Dao in another world. But your Dao strength was insufficient—you were off by more than just one move."
It was the great demon "Borderland," who had once hidden among Lin Junbi and his group.
First, his identity was exposed by Chen Ping'an, then he was intercepted and killed at sea by the refined Confucian scholar Chen Chun'an.
Whether Borderland was his true body, his yin spirit, or his yang spirit wasn't important anymore.
Chen Ping'an thrust his spear from afar: "Come on, stop playing dead. Fight me!"
The spear tip shifted slightly. "And you, with the Dao name Rouzhi—since you're the reincarnation of Huang Luan, don't be a coward either. Both of you come at me together. At least you'll have company on the road."
"After one incense stick's time, if you two can survive, I, your father, will cut off my own head and give it to you two wastes as a congratulatory gift for ascending to the throne."
What the Hidden Official spoke was the purest Wilderness dialect.
The Wilderness army's blood boiled even more, turning from the initial fear into excitement.
No matter their temperament or cultivation history, Wilderness demon beast cultivators most admired the strong.
The female Daoist asked in thought transmission: "What do you say?"
Nominally, the eighteen new throne-seat holders of the Wilderness were led by Feiran.
Bai Ze came second.
If the two ancient sword cultivators, including Bai Jing, had not left the Wilderness and their whereabouts were still unknown.
Then they would either directly push out two slightly weaker new throne-seat holders, or the Wilderness would have twenty throne seats.
But this "unknown whereabouts" was just an excuse. The Wilderness throne-seat holders deliberately concealed a truth.
During that previous heaven-earth connection, aside from Bai Jing, another sword cultivator—said to be sleeping in the bright moonlight and once a drinking friend of the Bixiao Cave Lord of Luobao Beach—had both drawn their swords.
And they had clearly chosen to stand on the side of "the world ascending," rather than helping that forced "ruler of the world," Wen Hai Zhou Mi.
The female Daoist was helpless about this as well.
The golden-armored rider glanced at the sky screen, then withdrew his gaze and said, "I'll go meet him. I've held back for too long."
The female Daoist asked, "Should I help suppress the formation?"
The golden-armored rider hesitated briefly, then said, "Not for now."
The female Daoist sighed helplessly, "Don't die."
If this ally fell in battle, then in a few more similar fights, as long as he wished, that Chen fellow could even contend with Feiran for the position of the Wilderness's common ruler.
On the battlefield, thunderous roars erupted again, spreading like a tide. Before they even had time to ride out to meet the enemy, the young Hidden Official had already taken the initiative to break their formation.
A blue cloak, trailing his spear as he moved, fast as a thunderbolt, began the true sense of formation-breaking. It was clear—he wanted to take the head of the supreme commander from amidst a million troops.