Chapter Forty-Six: Breaking Through Weihu Pass (Part Two)

The three from Azure City revealed joyous expressions at these words, but Ye Ziyin replied, “Thank you, sir, but if you’ll only be happy if Brother Lin admits defeat, then that’s absolutely out of the question. The two of you, lead the way—let’s bypass the checkpoint!”

“Hey, I never said I wanted him to admit defeat. Once we reach the marketplace up ahead, just treat old Che to a fine meal and some good wine,” Che Chonglou said as he lay back on the cart, face turned skyward. “And you, take it easy with the driving. These old bones can’t handle all this jolting. Hurry up and deal with them, it’s getting late.”

Everyone was delighted; with Old Che's assurance, there was nothing to worry about. The two officers, however, were pale with terror, endlessly begging Ye Ziyin for mercy. “Young Master, please spare our lives! In this life and the next, we’ll be your slaves and beasts of burden to repay your kindness!”

Ye Ziyin glanced at Lin Feng, who only replied coolly, “Your lives are in your benefactor’s hands, don’t come begging me.”

The two turned to plead with Lin Feng, but before they could speak, Lin Feng’s voice grew cold. “When you slaughtered that entire village, did you ever imagine this day would come? A soldier’s duty is to keep the enemy a thousand miles away and protect the people as one’s own parents. As guardians of the pass, you colluded with the enemy, massacring your elders and kin. How could I let you live?” His final word rang out: “Kill!”

An invisible aura of authority burst forth. With a sweep of his broadsword, Zuo Qingcheng sent both officers’ heads flying, blood gushing in torrents.

“Well struck!” Che Chonglou clapped and laughed heartily, utterly pleased.

“Let’s go—on the cart!”

Spurring their horses, the group sped away, leaving behind a field of corpses at the military outpost.

Night was falling. Within and around Tiger Might Pass, lights blazed brightly. The encampments of three hundred thousand armored troops stretched for miles. Torches illuminated the camp, smoke from cooking fires curled into the sky. The majestic mountain pass loomed like a tiger crouching on the plains, firmly commanding the vital route from Great Qian to Mengliang.

Since ancient times, mighty passes were near-impossible to breach. Tiger Might Pass was renowned as the First Pass Under Heaven; since the founding of Great Qian a thousand years ago, it had only ever fallen twice. Now, its guardian, Grand Marshal Mu Hong, had been granted the title of Supreme General by imperial decree—a pillar of the nation, famed for his martial prowess and achievements, praised by all within the court and without.

On a small hillside, Lin Feng and his companions crouched low, gazing into the distance at the dragon-like sweep of army camps.

“Look, the camps are densely packed, the sentries many. I’ll cast a spell to move you all outside the pass—don’t forget your promise to Old Che!” Che Chonglou tucked away his wine jar, urging, “Stand ready. Best to cross while it’s dark, then we’ll find a place to stay for the night.”

All except Lin Feng wore faces of eager anticipation; none had yet experienced the exhilaration of soaring through the wind, and their excitement was like that of a maiden entering the bridal chamber after guarding her chastity for twenty years.

“Here we go!” Che Chonglou swung his powerful arm three times, summoning a fierce wind that swept the group up into the sky.

…

Within the ten-mile military camp of Tiger Might Pass...

Before an extravagantly decorated command tent, dozens of gorgeously dressed women stood in two rows holding palace lanterns. Further off, patrolling soldiers marched in disciplined order, their gazes unwavering. Inside, the grand tent glowed with light—its golden-roofed canopy embroidered with intricate cloud and floral patterns, draped with layer upon layer of silken veils, the floor covered with deerskin rugs, the air perfumed with mugwort and incense, all manner of luxurious furnishings creating an atmosphere of utmost opulence.

At this moment, a beautiful young woman lay on a fragrant satin carpet within the inner chamber, her eyes closed and brow furrowed, enduring the wanton violation of an old man.

Before long, a faint red mist rose above the warm bed. The girl screamed, her body shuddered violently, her muscles and skin rapidly withering. Moments later, as the red haze dissipated, only a desiccated skeleton remained on the bedding. The old man stood, waved his hand, and the bones vanished into nothingness.

“Hoo... In three more days, my Essence-Devouring Art will reach the seventh level—then I might finally break through to late-stage Demon Infant…” A finely wrought bronze mirror appeared before him, reflecting a hideously grotesque, ghostly face!

Crash! The mirror was hurled onto the incense table, shattering into a hundred glittering fragments.

“Fragrant Concubine! Someday I’ll have you lying meekly beneath me, begging for my favor! I’ll drain every ounce of your spiritual essence, so neither life nor death will bring you relief!” The old man then drew a golden, fanged mask over his face and shouted toward the tent entrance, “Bring wine and food!”

“Yes, my lord!” answered a crisp voice from the waiting maids outside.

“Hmph, Mu Hong, you dare play games with me? If not for—hmm? What powerful demonic energy!” Abruptly, the old man’s head snapped up—and in the next instant, he vanished from the tent.

Up in the pitch-black sky, Che Chonglou was carrying the group northward with his Translocation Art when a cold, indifferent voice suddenly echoed from below:

“Demon, show yourself and die!”

—

Hearing the voice, Lin Feng felt his consciousness reel, his head spinning. If Che Chonglou hadn’t been controlling his body, he’d surely have plummeted from the clouds. Beside him, Ye Ziyin rolled his eyes and fainted outright in midair. Zuo Qingcheng and the others swayed, faces ashen, falling and scrambling to their feet.

A figure abruptly appeared before Che Chonglou. Even old Che himself was startled by this apparition.

“You dare block Old Che’s path? Tired of living?” Che Chonglou snorted, quietly activating his Proud World Art with his other hand.

“Ha ha… You’re a demon cultivator, sneaking people and livestock over Tiger Might Pass in the dead of night—and now that Bi Rong has caught you, you think you’ll get away? Refining your Nascent Soul could help me achieve the Spirit Roaming stage—give me your life!” The golden-masked man laughed wildly, waving his arms and unleashing a storm of blood mist. Malevolent spirits and murderous energies coalesced from thin air, swiftly forming a crimson magic array in the void. From its center surged a terrifying aura of destruction.

“He’s a master of the demonic path! Old Che, it’s up to you now…” Lin Feng was shaken but had great faith in Che Chonglou.

“Blood Fiend Underworld Array! Demon, die!” As panic gripped the group, Che Chonglou’s left hand formed seals, and a massive golden palm descended from above, slamming straight onto the array! “Boom!” The imprint of the Proud World Art collided violently with the blood formation, the shockwave erupting with such force it seemed to crack the very night with celestial thunder. Tens of thousands of soldiers in the camp below looked up in terror. In the blinding golden light, they saw several figures suspended in the night sky, two of whom were dueling across a distance of a hundred yards.

After a single exchange, both Che Chonglou and Bi Rong gauged each other’s strength—neither held the advantage.

“To which cave of the Myriad Demons Heaven do you belong?” Che Chonglou cast a protective array behind him for his companions, then produced a magical artifact—a golden cauldron the size of a vat, known as the ‘Divine Crucible’.

Forged in ancient times by a mighty cultivator who melted down the entire Xuan Yin Mountain and tempered it with Weak Water, this supreme spiritual weapon was famous throughout the cultivation world. With its appearance, Che Chonglou’s identity was plain for all to see.

“You… you’re Sage Yuan Gu, Che Chonglou!” Bi Rong’s face twisted in shock beneath the mask. Che Chonglou himself was not the most terrifying part—it was his status. Among the Twelve Demon Kings, the Great Ape King, Che Shitu, famed for his protectiveness, was his elder brother!

The means and cultivation of the Demon Kings were far beyond Bi Rong’s comprehension, and each king commanded tens of thousands of demon cultivators. Even a handful could easily obliterate him.

Bi Rong’s mind raced, murderous intent surging. Now that he had provoked Che Chonglou, unless he destroyed all evidence, he would be hunted to the ends of the earth by the Great Ape King’s wrath.

“That’s right. If you get out of the way, Old Che won’t bother with you. Damn, what rotten luck, to be recognized—takes all the fun out of it,” Che Chonglou muttered. With his companions’ lives in hand, he had no desire to complicate matters—his temper was far milder than that of the Great Ape King.

“Heh, save your tricks. I won’t wait for your brother to finish me off. Today, it’s you or me—no quarter!”

Turning his palm, Bi Rong conjured a white jade demon banner out of thin air. It swelled in the wind, sealing him in tight, impenetrable layers. From within, waves of blood fiend energy surged, black and red demonic auras entwined, echoing with the wails of malevolent spirits.

“Damn! He’s playing for real. You all get outside the pass first—Old Che will entertain him!” Che Chonglou swept his arm, a black wind carrying his companions fleeing toward the outer pass.

Within the banner’s formation, Bi Rong sat cross-legged, hands weaving seals. Beneath him, a black fire burned atop a dark-gold altar, channeling demonic power into the blood fiend. Gradually, the monstrous form of a demon god began to manifest.

“Well! He’s even refined the Blood Sovereign! If Old Che doesn’t get serious, you’ll take me for a monkey!” With a piercing whistle, Che Chonglou’s body vanished, replaced by a ten-zhang-tall golden giant ape, the Divine Crucible perched atop his head comically.

The Blood Sovereign, forged from countless vengeful souls, emerged wielding a vajra scepter, breaking free from the banner’s array!

A demon god and a golden giant ape faced off above Tiger Might Pass. Tens of thousands of soldiers below watched the two titans in terror, their souls trembling, unable to utter a sound.

Suddenly, a furious roar from the city tower startled everyone, even the two dueling masters. “Fools! Someone’s escaped the pass—capture them!”

Wielding a massive hook-headed halberd, clad in golden armor and bronze boots, a purple-gold jade crown on his head, Mu Hong leapt from the tower, springing off a soldier’s shoulder to mount his horse. “Open the gates!” he shouted.

With a grinding of gears, the iron gate—weighing hundreds of thousands of catties—slowly rose. A single rider burst out in a cloud of dust, moving with astonishing speed.

Mu Hong galloped a hundred yards ahead before the garrison could mount up and give chase, the gates thrown wide.

Mu Hong’s steed, Chifeng, was a rare breed among Red Hare horses—one in ten thousand, its entire body blazing like fire, hooves white as snow. Swift as thunder and lightning, it could cover two thousand li a day without tiring—the finest of all horses.

Thrown outside the pass by Che Chonglou, Lin Feng and his companions landed in a patch of wild grass, their organs churning. If not for a protective spell, they’d have been smashed to pieces on impact.

—

Before they could rise, the ground shook violently. Lin Feng looked up to see a figure charging from Tiger Might Pass with the force of a raging flood—utterly unstoppable.

“Go, quickly!” he shouted, groping in the grass until his hand closed around the Pear Blossom Spear. Mu Hong was already within a hundred paces!

“Big brother, let me help!” Wuzhui’s voice sounded in his mind.

“No! Your cultivation is too low—you’ll only get in the way. Protect Ziyin and get out of here—go!” Lin Feng roared, planting himself before Mu Hong, spear in hand.

“Those who trespass Tiger Might Pass—die!” Mu Hong bellowed, as Chifeng leapt like a tiger over a mountain stream, bearing down on Lin Feng. The steed weighed thousands of catties, and with armor was fiercer than a mid-level martial artist—an ordinary man would be crushed to death beneath its hooves.

“We’ll see who dies first!” With a thrust of his spear into the ground, Lin Feng vaulted backward like a swallow skimming water. As he rose, his waist twisted, the Pear Blossom Spear drawing a perfect arc to strike at Mu Hong on horseback.

Whish! A burst of spiritual energy shot forth.

Startled, Mu Hong raised his halberd to parry, blade reversing to meet the spearhead. Clang! The weapons collided with a resounding crash, and the hook-headed halberd did not break.

Lin Feng’s spinning counterattack, amplified by spiritual energy, carried a force of two or three thousand catties, yet Mu Hong blocked it with ease—his reputation was clearly well earned.

“Not bad, boy! Take a move from this commander!” Mu Hong laughed, thighs squeezing his steed as the halberd swept in a blur of cold light, striking at Lin Feng’s face. In the dark, the two weapons flashed silver, their deadly points indistinguishable.

Clang, clang, clang! In the blink of an eye, they traded several more blows.

With his fine horse to support him, Mu Hong’s technique lacked overt spiritual energy, but his sinews and muscles were trained to the utmost. In external martial arts, he was not inferior to Lin Feng. His halberd was a treasured imperial gift, forged from spiral-patterned black iron, its quality matching Lin Feng’s Pear Blossom Spear.

More formidable still, Mu Hong and his steed were as one, their killing intent innate. Each strike was fierce and unerring, and with Chifeng’s power, his strength doubled!

“Take my ‘Unseen Link’!” Chifeng’s agility let Mu Hong, after three spear exchanges, whirl his halberd into a dazzling storm of cold stars and silver light, too fast for the eye to follow.

“Careful!” The others, not yet escaped, watched in terror. Zuo Qingcheng shouted, “Go! I’ll cover Brother Lin—help him!”

Lin Feng unleashed “Swallow Turns, Dragon Soars,” his body leaping thrice to a height of three zhang. Then, spear inverted, he stabbed straight down into Mu Hong’s whirling halberd shadows. At once, his heart sank—the spearhead was gripped by a strange force, draining away its momentum and holding it fast.

His choices: abandon the spear or be locked in a stalemate—both a sure path to defeat. With no leverage at the end of his attack, he was at Mu Hong’s mercy.

By now, the halberd-wielding cavalry from Tiger Might Pass were nearly upon them. Zuo Qingcheng roared, blade in hand, hacking down an enemy soldier in a single blow.

Facing Mu Hong’s uncanny technique, Lin Feng was forced to use his ultimate move, the Overlord Fist, earlier than planned. Gripping the spear with his left hand, he punched out with his right!

The iron fist crashed down toward Mu Hong’s purple-gold crown. A veteran of countless battles, Mu Hong sensed the killing intent and twisted his waist. The punch struck his left shoulder instead—crash! The golden armor shattered, Mu Hong’s arm went numb, and his halberd faltered. Lin Feng seized the moment, yanking his spear free. As he fell, he reversed his grip and thrust at the stallion’s neck.

Neigh! Chifeng reared, narrowly dodging the deadly strike, but Mu Hong was not so lucky—a burst of energy struck his chest, and he toppled from the saddle with a muffled groan.

Swish! Lin Feng leapt, landing on Chifeng’s back and launching a spear at Mu Hong as he fell—a strike of unerring fate. Clearing his mind, he poured all his strength into the shaft. A yard-long white light whistled forth, piercing through the joint between Mu Hong’s helmet and armor, straight into his skull.

Bang! The mighty general fell, his head shattering in a spray of blood and brain.

The Qixi Festival approaches—may you all find love to keep you company.