Chapter 1143: Sky-Covering Sword
The flames before the great mountain also aroused extreme vigilance in the camp.
Soldiers woke from their dreams, grabbed their weapons, and began running to their positions.
Array masters completed the preparations for activating the formations at the fastest possible speed. The crossbow formation, composed of eight hundred crossbowmen, also moved forward as a whole to the very front of the military camp.
This was the Northern Third Camp, commanded by General Peng Shihai.
He looked at the thousands of vulture birds covering the sky and earth, his expression still indifferent, his voice without the slightest tremor. More than a dozen military orders were issued methodically.
Only the personal guards standing at his side noticed that their commander's fist had been tightly clenched all along, his knuckles somewhat white.
That was not fear, but anger and anxiety.
If every vulture bird carried that kind of gunpowder-like weapon, what kind of trial would the Northern Third Camp face today?
The formations laid by the array masters could cover half the camp, but against such a fire, they could not hold out for long.
As for the crossbow formation, it should be able to shoot down a batch of vulture birds. But based on the current flight altitude of the vulture birds, by the time the crossbow bolts could reach them, they would already have flown above the camp. So what difference would it make whether they dropped their gunpowder themselves or were shot down?
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"If only Master were here!"
A cavalryman climbing up the cliff face shouted.
Another cavalryman shook his head and said, "Even if the old master were here, it's not certain he could kill all these birds cleanly."
The third cavalryman said nothing. His entire body exuded a chilling aura, and his killing intent surged to the heavens.
In his mind, the Northern Third Camp would surely become a sea of fire today. Even if the formations could resist for a moment, they would still suffer extremely heavy losses. And the fastest wolf cavalry of the demon race might be waiting on the north side of the mountain to strike. In other words, there was no way to salvage this defeat.
Then he would at least kill the commander of those vulture birds, to prevent such defeats from happening repeatedly in the future.
Being able to climb such a steep cliff face while thinking of such things, he and the other two cavalrymen were certainly not ordinary soldiers.
But even if they were powerful cultivators, there were still many things on the battlefield they could not change.
Suddenly, a piercing shriek rang out in the sky.
The three cavalrymen instinctively stopped their movements and turned their heads to look in the direction of the human camp. They saw a scene they had never imagined.
On the grassland illuminated by the morning light, streaks of green light scattered and eventually formed a formation, enveloping the front half of the camp.
Even from such a distance, they could still see the flashing light of the Holy Light Crossbows.
The human army was fully prepared.
But those vulture birds never even flew above the camp before they began falling to the ground one after another!
It was as if an invisible and mysterious force in the world had appeared before the vulture birds, making them terrified and unable to flap their wings.
Thousands of vulture birds fell to the ground like raindrops, and when they landed on the grassland, they turned into towering flames. The scene was incredibly spectacular.
"What's going on?"
A cavalryman shouted in surprise and joy.
The cavalryman with the chilling aura barked, "Speed up!"
Seeing that the main camp was safe, the three cavalrymen's spirits soared. They climbed and leaped toward the caves in the middle of the cliff face, their speed as swift as flying swans!
Arriving before those caves, the three felt the chilling, cold aura seeping out from within and knew that the strange demon should still be inside. Without any delay, with a clear whistle, their long swords left their sheaths, shot into the cave entrance like cold beams of light, and began to weave through at an unimaginable speed.
At first, there was no sound from inside the cliff. Then suddenly, a dull thud rang out, followed by the continuous, dense sound of cutting, interspersed with cries of pain and curses in the demon language. Later, the strange demon kept repeating a certain sentence, sounding especially panicked and terrified.
No one knew how much time passed before the sounds inside the cliff finally ceased.
Three cold swords flew out of the cave entrance and returned to their sheaths.
The morning sun was a little higher than before. The morning light shone on the side of the peak, then reflected back onto this cliff face, illuminating the faces of the three cavalrymen.
One face was calm and steady, one was resolute and proud, and one was youthful and lively. They were Liang Banhu, Guan Feibai, and Baicai.
Baicai asked curiously, "What was that strange demon shouting before he died?"
Liang Banhu and Guan Feibai exchanged a glance and laughed.
Guan Feibai suppressed his smile and said seriously, "Senior Brother told you to learn the demon language well. Why didn't you listen?"
Baicai said aggrievedly, "There are over a hundred kinds of demon languages. How could I possibly learn them all?"
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The grassland was filled with exclamations of surprise.
Because the same situation occurred in all the camps.
The demon race did not launch a large-scale counterattack with massive armies. Instead, they launched countless sneak attacks at the same time.
These sneak attacks might be better described as surprise attacks. The demon race used all sorts of bizarre and cunning methods, and they also dispatched many experts.
This was the first time since the war began that the demon race had deployed experts for battle.
But just like in the first phase of the campaign, once they acted, they struck with full force, leaving no room for mercy!
The demon race had over three thousand tribes, of which no less than a hundred possessed formidable combat strength.
Today, the chieftains of these tribes and their most powerful warriors either burst forth from the earth of the grassland or flew down from the cliffs, their faces ferocious.
Beast tamers from the remote Snow Lake commanded demonic beasts to launch suicidal attacks.
Frustrated, wandering warriors from the slums of the Snow Old City threw off the animal hides covering them, picked up their heavy demon axes, and leaped up from among the beast herds.
The targets of these experts were very clear, and their prior arrangements were highly targeted: the human army's grain supplies, array masters, and commanders.
Hundreds of small-scale battles began simultaneously on the grassland. Although they might not have a significant impact on the overall war situation, they successfully created immense chaos.
Behind chaos, there was often a clear and ruthless intention.
As the morning sun leaped above the horizon, its light refracted by the mountains and grassland, making the world even darker, the true intention of the demon race seemed to finally become clear.
Hundreds of demon army experts, carrying a distinct aura of slaughter, arrived at a place less than twenty miles from the human central command tent, concealed by a formation that disrupted the heavenly patterns.
That battle intent, which disrupted the heavenly patterns, caused the drifting clouds in the sky to gather again. Raindrops fell, landing on the soldiers' faces and lips, feeling somewhat bland, somewhat empty.
This was the power of rules. Had a Saint Domain expert arrived?
The commander-in-chief, General He Ming, was a low-key and steady man, but in certain aspects, he was extremely adventurous, even radical.
He had pushed the central command tent to the very front line, only a little over a hundred miles from the peak called Norilang.
At such a critical moment, there was no longer any need to hold anything back.
The human experts finally made their move.
Pure white and blazing holy light illuminated the dim world, tearing apart the sticky, cotton-like clouds, revealing a corner of the blue sky.
Mao Qiuyu and the Nun Huairen walked out of the central command tent. With a flick of their sleeves, they killed more than a dozen demon experts.
No one was surprised by this.
Even those demon experts who were essentially walking to their deaths had long anticipated their own end.
How could the most important central command tent not be guarded by Saint Domain experts?
Since the demon race had anticipated this, they naturally had corresponding preparations.
The sky suddenly turned gray.
The clear, blue expanse was gone. In the faint misty clouds, a black, tattered chessboard appeared faintly visible.
At the foot of Norilang Peak, on the empty grassland, a pitch-black passage suddenly appeared.
The edges of that passage were not neat, as if torn open by hand.
This description was actually very apt, because it was precisely a passage torn from space by the demon race's terrifying great formation.
Several demon generals led thousands of wolf cavalry, surging out from the valley and from hundreds of miles away, charging toward the central command tent.
The clouds and mist deepened, blocking the sunlight, as if night had arrived early. Within them appeared several particularly tall figures.
Presumably, they were members of the Council of Elders, or nobles and princes from the Snow Old City.
Mao Qiuyu and Huairen's expressions remained unchanged, very calm.
Since the demon race could anticipate their presence here, they could naturally also anticipate that the demon race would have corresponding arrangements.
Late last night, they had already seen the possibility of that passage appearing on the Fate Star Disk.
Up to this point, nothing new or unexpected had happened.
Suddenly, the Nun Huairen's gaze became serious.
Mao Qiuyu's sleeves moved without wind.
A very tall black shadow suddenly appeared on the summit of Norilang Peak.
Unlike those demon generals and wolf cavalry, that black shadow did not appear through the passage in the valley but suddenly appeared on the peak.
The sky grew darker, but the mist before the peak was blown away by the wind, revealing the true form of that huge black shadow.
It was an extremely rare, ancient Daoshan Boar, with a long snout and coiled horns, incredibly ferocious, standing over forty zhang tall.
Sitting among the coiled horns of the Daoshan Boar was a very small demon, even far smaller than a human child. He wore a suit of armor, covered with complex patterns woven from gold thread, interspersed with many dark green objects—some were emeralds, others were copper corroded by time.
An unimaginably terrifying aura seeped out from the gaps in the armor, yet it was far less chilling and evil than this demon's gaze.
When this demon appeared on the peak, the world for hundreds of miles around seemed to fall silent for an instant.
Because he was the Demon Marshal.
After the extremely brief silence came even more piercing howls and battle cries.
Thousands of wolf cavalry charged toward the central command tent with near-insane ferocity.
Because the Demon Marshal had arrived.
It was clear that if they wanted to hold the central command tent today, the prerequisite was to defeat, or at least hold off, the Demon Marshal.
Back when the old Demon Lord was still alive, he was the undisputed second-strongest in the demon snow plains.
Now that the old Demon Lord was dead, could it be said that he was the strongest of the demon race?
No one knew the answer to that, because the Yanzhi Mountain hermit remained hidden from the world, and because until today, the Black Robe had never fought with full force.
But at least one fact could be confirmed.
The Demon Marshal was not an ordinary Saint Domain expert.
If Chen Changsheng were here, he might recall that when Su Li mentioned the Demon Marshal by the hot spring back then, he used the word "freak."
Even Su Li thought he was a freak; one could imagine just how cruel and powerful the Demon Marshal truly was.
Mao Qiuyu knew very well that he was no match for the Demon Marshal. The Nun Huairen had entered the Saint Domain for an even shorter time. So who would stop him?
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A sword light came from the south.
That sword light was clear, pure, and still, like real water.
That sword light washed away the haze in the sky, drowned out the howling on the grassland. Seeming leisurely, yet secretly carrying killing intent, it slashed toward the peak.
From among the surging wolf cavalry, a plume of black smoke rose. The Eighth Demon General soared into the air, wielding a heavy treasure, and blasted toward that sword light.
That sword light seemed like the reflection of water under a porch, trembling slightly as it bypassed the attack.
With a soft *chi* sound, a clear sword scar appeared on the Eighth Demon General's armor, with a fiery line like molten lava flowing inside.
Unbearable pain caused this demon general, known for his endurance, to let out a roar of rage.
Amid the roar, another plume of black smoke rose from the wolf cavalry. Its momentum was far greater than before, demonic energy surging to the heavens, forcibly trapping this sword light.
The sword light flashed from time to time, illuminating the black smoke. Occasionally, the sound of metal breaking could be heard.
The Third Demon General finally managed to block this sword light. His helmet was covered in sword scars, and one of his demon horns was even broken off at the tip, demon blood flowing profusely.
Just one sword light required two high-ranking demon generals to strike successively to intercept it, and they were still so disheveled and battered, even injured one after another.
Unlike Su Li's sharpness and freedom, unlike Chen Changsheng's directness and tenacity.
This sword was more serene, softer, yet not lacking in sharpness. It was completely without trace, impossible to grasp, supremely exquisite.
Beside the main camp, there was a tent used for storing miscellaneous items.
An old Daoist walked out from inside.
In his right hand, he held a sword; in his left, he held the scabbard. Neither his walking posture nor his sword-holding technique could be considered graceful, let alone otherworldly. But discerning eyes could tell that this sword was no ordinary object. It was as if it had been washed in autumn water for three thousand years, extremely bright, impossible to look at directly, as if it wanted to cover everything before everyone's eyes, including heaven and earth.
Could this be the legendary Sky-Covering Sword?
Was this ordinary-looking old Daoist the sect leader of the Li Mountain Sword Sect?
The generals and soldiers in the camp were stunned into silence, and they parted to make way.
Mao Qiuyu and Huairen slightly bowed in salute.