Chapter 81

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Chapter 81: The Battle Comes to an End

Clang!

Ming He tightened her grip on the Longquan Sword and leaped into the midst of the armored guards on the city wall, blocking the ferocious claws of the alien race. The sword clashed with the sharp iron claws, sparks flying in all directions. With her left hand, she pointed her fingers like a blade, releasing a sharp wave of sword energy that pierced through the enemy’s chest. Her face was smeared with blood, her expression icy, as the blood from the falling sword shadow soaked the remnants of the city wall.

“Roar!”

In agony, the alien let out a long, guttural cry, its visage growing more menacing as its attacks intensified. More and more of the alien race climbed up the city walls from behind the wooden stakes; Ming He was not facing just one foe.

Frowning, Ming He let out a sharp cry, bending her left hand slightly. She retrieved the blue earth-grade sword from her storage ring, a treasure she had acquired from the Domain Lord’s mansion in the Eastern Region, and now held a sword in each hand.

Though she had not trained in left-handed swordplay, making her grip awkward and stiff, it was better than nothing; at least she could use the weapon’s sharpness to intimidate her enemies.

Boom, boom, boom.

The war drums continued to thunder from the high walls of Mo Ze City, the very soul of the fortress. As long as the drums beat, the city stood strong, signaling both the call to battle and a message of safety to the unseen mortals below.

“Fight!”

The armored guards of Mo Ze City, their iron armor stained with blood, remained resolute and unyielding. They gripped their long spears until their hands ached and burned. Some fell, others struggled to rise, some joined the fray, and some retreated… Across the Tianwu Continent, the battlefield of the heavens stretched endlessly.

Ming He narrowed her dark eyes, stepping into the still-unsteady Shadow Steps. Her form flickered like a specter among the towering alien figures. She reached the edge of the wall, grabbing a falling stone made of mystic stones, and hurled it fiercely at the enemies below, leaving a trail of blood in its wake.

The aliens were numerous on the wall and even more below. Her cultivation was still too weak to break through their defenses, so she could only do her utmost to prevent them from scaling the wall.

Bang!

Ming He smashed down another stone, her right hand gripping the long sword so tightly that her knuckles turned white, channeling her energy into the blade. The sword energy shot forth like a raging dragon, accompanied by a low dragon’s roar, shattering dozens of tall wooden stakes nearby. The aliens, now without support, tumbled from the wall.

Though their robust physiques spared them from death, they were far from unharmed.

The city wall was impossibly high, and even with their agility, the aliens could not scale it unaided. They had to retreat to the deep forest to break more trees, and in the time it took them to return, the guards and reinforcements on the wall could catch their breath, staving off exhaustion and death.

Ming He took a moment to steady herself and swallowed a pill. She looked up to find the sky had darkened without her notice. The blazing sun had set, the moonlight faintly illuminating the mountains, while the fiery hues of the sunset painted the sky, casting the battlefield in an increasingly desolate light.

Yet the drums still thundered; the battle did not cease with the setting sun. The aliens sought to storm the city with relentless force, and the defenders had to hold their ground, awaiting reinforcements.

Ming He slashed at the next alien climbing onto the wall, but her right shoulder was caught off guard, taking a solid blow from an enemy claw. Blood seeped through her blue clothes, the pain searing to the bone. She winced, her body succumbing to numbness and soreness; she was on the verge of dropping her sword.

But she had to hold on. If she lost the sword, death was certain.

Biting her lip, Ming He kicked out fiercely, her foot striking the alien’s iron-like chest. The recoil sent a shockwave through her right foot, leaving it slightly numb, but she ignored the pain, focusing solely on the enemy before her. With her left hand gripping the blue long sword, she slashed diagonally, buying herself a sliver of time. She leaped up, using the protruding stone wall to half-hang as she swung her sword.

The unnamed sword technique, first stance, second stance.

The two stances merged, creating a radiant sword light that illuminated the darkening sky like a blazing sun, fierce and scorching, a symbol of brilliance and glory. As the sword struck, a head rolled to the ground.

Ming He lightly tapped her toes to evade the claws of the enemy below, her body leaning as she returned to the top of the wall. Her inner spiritual energy was completely depleted, but she relied on the instincts of a sword cultivator to wield her blade. Fortunately, her sword intent and sword energy remained undiminished, even without spiritual energy.

“Quick! Descend and reinforce the gate! Black-clothed men from the Black Wind Alliance are fighting fiercely at the city gate! They aim to open it and let the aliens in!” A hoarse, urgent voice rang out, followed by the sound of a body collapsing.

Ming He turned to see an armored guard, his armor torn and his body riddled with wounds. He had fought his way up from the lower city to defend the gate, and these injuries were the price he paid. He had only managed to deliver his message before allowing himself to fall.

Most of the aliens on the wall had been cleared, but the exhaustion on the faces of the armored guards and other cultivators was unmistakable. No matter the original color of their robes, they were now uniformly stained with blood.

The cultivators had exhausted their spiritual energy, while the aliens seemed endless. This seemed like a battle they were destined to lose, yet no one retreated. They had no path back.

Ming He glanced around; some armored guards staggered, barely holding themselves upright with their long spears, but they were moving toward the city gate. They had to defend it; the gate could not fall, nor could the wall.

She paused for a moment, then turned, moving swiftly from the wall to the gate—a distance that was not far. If she were at her full strength, it would have taken her only a few breaths.

But now, she was covered in wounds, barely able to walk on her two human legs. With the occasional enemies emerging on both sides, this short stretch of road took her a quarter of an hour to traverse.

The city gate of Mo Ze City was made from tough mystic stones, heavy and cumbersome. At this moment, the rear of the once black gate was almost entirely stained with blood. The bodies of armored guards were piled heavily in front, blocking the way and allowing it to stand firm until now.

The surviving armored guards fought against the black-clothed men, though it was less of a fight and more of a desperate struggle. The exhausted armored guards were no match for the black-clothed men at their peak.

One black-clothed man pressed his long knife against an armored guard’s arm, patiently dragging it back and forth, not in a hurry to kill him. He was torturing the guard, reveling in his victory.

“Presumptuous!”

Ming He watched as the armored guard endured the pain in silence, a faint smile on his face. She suddenly realized he was holding out for time, waiting for news to reach them, which brought him comfort.

Something stirred within her, the sight of blood piercing her eyes. She knew the Demon Race was invading the Tianwu Continent, and the situation was dire, but this was the first time she had witnessed such carnage. Compared to the battlefield she had seen in the Liu Yun Mountains, this was nothing.

The bloodied bodies and burning villages merged into a spark of anger in Ming He’s eyes, her chest heaving. For the first time, she felt such intense anger and understood clearly what the words "Demon Race" meant to the human race.

The Demon Race rampaged.

Ming He repeated these four words in her mind, having no other thoughts, just knowing she could not do nothing. She could not stand by and let all of this happen. So even though her spiritual energy had completely vanished, she drew her sword and stepped forward.

Just like the human beside her, who had fallen while holding a spear; at worst, she might only lose her life.

The blade of the Longquan Sword was dark and covered in a sheen, and with the sudden surge of murderous intent from its master, a bright light erupted. Within a hundred miles, the killing intent was sharp, constructing the world in Ming He’s eyes, and at that moment, she understood how shadows entered the path of killing.

A trace of blood blazed in her peach blossom eyes. Ming He shouted and leaped forward, her long sword gleaming with silver, propelled by a continuous stream of killing intent. The power of this strike was even greater than in her peak condition.

Some black-clothed men were startled by Ming He’s furious strike; fear flickered in their eyes as they retreated, losing their balance and tumbling down.

Others exchanged glances, abandoning the armored guard beside them, rushing directly towards Ming He.

In battle, one must target the leader first. Although Ming He was not the leader, she was still young, and such a cultivator was undoubtedly talented among the human race. Their primary mission was to eliminate human talents.

As the black-clothed men surged forward, Ming He quickly retreated, already several steps away from her previous position. She understood her own limitations; there was no way she could survive the black-clothed men’s siege.

But the black-clothed men had their sights set on her; it wasn’t so easy to evade. The black blades stirred up dust as they swung, turning her fear into resolve; she could not avoid this strike.

A bitter expression crossed Ming He’s face. When she chose to leave the wall to provide support, she had prepared for death. Yet, she hadn’t expected it to arrive so soon. She had only killed one black-clothed man; it was far too few.

Clang!

A clear sound of the sword echoed, followed by the appearance of a familiar figure, dressed in blood-stained clothes, wielding a long sword. She didn’t block the black-clothed men, but she did momentarily stall time, just enough for others to come and assist.

That figure swooped past, steadying Ming He so she wouldn’t fall, and then stuffed a pill into her mouth.

Ming He looked up and recognized the newcomer; it was a young woman, likely in the same age group as her. If she remembered correctly, this was Mu Qian’s friend named Fang Xia.

She glanced ahead at the battlefield; the one who had just blocked the black-clothed men was two equally young men, one was Lu Yuan and the other was Qu Zhu.

“You all…” Ming He furrowed her brows in surprise.

“In the heat of battle, in a life-and-death situation, we are all comrades,” Fang Xia smiled slightly, slipping into the battlefield to share some of the pressure with the two men. Though dangerous, at least there was still a chance of victory.

Ming He fell silent for a moment, swallowing the pill and lifting her sword to join the fight. When the three saw her, they were momentarily stunned, then their swords flowed together in perfect harmony.

She was a disciple of the Floating Cloud Sect, and Mu Qian was their dear friend; thus, they were not strangers. After all, Liu Yun and Floating Cloud were closely related, their swordsmanship and philosophies intertwined.

As the moonlight deepened, the situation in Mo Ze City did not quiet down; the Demon Race continued to assault the city, and black-clothed men kept appearing in various places. Ming He was covered in injuries, her face smeared with blood, and even her little beast atop her head was now dyed red, its once jet-black fur soaked with blood.

“Chirp, chirp.” The little beast called out, leaping from Ming He’s head to throw away the approaching black-clothed men, panting heavily; it was clearly close to exhaustion.

If not for the little beast, Ming He would have never persevered until now, but reinforcements had not yet arrived. They had no idea when they would come, so they could only wait in silence, filled with despair.

“Whoosh!” A sudden cry echoed from the distance, followed by an earth-shattering noise. The moonlight that had originally illuminated the bloody scene of Mo Ze City seemed to vanish, as if blocked by something, leaving only an overwhelming darkness that obscured the light.

The wind howled, stirring up clouds of yellow sand. Ming He’s spirit jolted as she vaguely heard the joyous cries of armored guards on the city wall, “Reinforcements are here! Reinforcements are here!”

Reinforcements were coming.

The other black-clothed men exchanged glances, dismissing the truth of the claim. They threw their long knives and vanished without a trace. They had no intention of sacrificing themselves to pave the way for the Demon Race; embellishing their success was one thing, but sharing life and death was unnecessary.

Dragging her exhausted body, Ming He climbed up the wall and spotted a shadow hanging in the sky. It was that shadow that blocked the moonlight, and now it was spewing molten-like liquid onto the wall. The mystic stone construction was corroded into a black hole, and the Demon Race could not escape their fate.

The cries of the suffering painted this small city into a hellish landscape, and with the Demon Race having lost their courage to attack, they could only flee, driven by instinct.

“Ha!” A mocking sound emerged, and the shadow flapped its wings somewhat carelessly, ceasing the molten liquid from spewing.

The shadow lowered itself, allowing the moonlight to cascade down once more.

Bathed in the soft moonlight, Ming He finally saw the true form of the shadow: a massive serpentine body twisted and turned, with wings sprouting from its sides. It was these wings that conjured a whirlwind, blowing the Demon Race off the city wall and blocking the moonlight.

Its entire body was a dark green hue, with a fierce snake head slithering and a vertically-slit pupil staring down coldly as if looking down on all beings. Yet, it was undoubtedly the owner of those eyes who had saved Mo Ze City and them.

It was a creature of the Demon Race.

Ming He found it hard to express her emotions.

The other armored guards and cultivators likely felt similarly complex, as the entire Mo Ze City fell silent—only the blood and disorder remained.