Chapter 288: Success After A Hundred Battles

Chapter 288: Victory Through a Hundred Battles

Batu had initially overlooked one issue.

By convention, he assumed the Temple would not interfere in tribal conflicts. Even when they had fought like dogs before, the Temple said nothing. Earlier still, when Temur established the Golden Horde and slaughtered many tribes, the Temple remained silent.

Moreover, due to personal ties, Chili would lean slightly in his favor. During his unification of the War Lion tribe, Chili had even spoken a few words to smooth the integration.

Since the Temple showed no bias, as long as someone could bear the title of Great Khan, Batu felt no restraint. Temur had done it as Golden Horde Khan; why couldn’t another?

But he forgot that this moment of stabbing Temur in the back was fundamentally different from an open declaration of war. It was not a tribal civil war—it could be considered a betrayal of the steppe.

And the Temple would never tolerate such a thing.

Chili led his men back to Yellow Sand Market, barely stabilizing the chaotic situation, when he heard from Ubaru’s personal guard the cause of Ubaru’s assassination:

Batu had bypassed Yellow Sand Market and charged straight for the Great Khan’s rear, suspected of planning a backstab. Just as Ubaru was preparing to rally his troops to strike Batu’s rear, he was assassinated. To this day, no message had even reached the Great Khan…

Chili felt a chill that reached his bones. He had never imagined Batu would dare such a thing!

If this were true, and he had once helped Batu unify his tribe, then he himself bore great guilt!

Unfortunately, Chili had neither military command nor the ability to lead an army. He could only let Ubaru’s generals organize the troops themselves and march forth. He had no idea how effective such a chaotic army would be, or even if they would arrive in time.

Chili could only ride alone once more, trying to persuade Batu to stop.

A single rider was indeed faster than tens of thousands of troops. He pushed himself until his horse was panting, and finally saw the shadow of an army on the horizon. Chili knew Yanmen was just ahead.

If he could stop Batu before the real battle began, there was still time to turn and attack Yanmen!

Just one step away!

Chili whipped his horse until foam dripped from its mouth. In desperation, he abandoned the horse and flew forward on foot. But before he had gone far, he slowly stopped.

Ahead, a figure in red robes on a red horse stood against the setting sun.

“Chili… Yue Hongling has been waiting for you.” Yue Hongling smiled faintly. “Now is the time for our final duel.”

Chili took a few deep breaths, gazing at this woman who seemed like his lifelong nemesis, slowly calming his mind.

“You knew I would come to stop Batu.”

“Yes.”

“Is Batu a pig, letting you blind him like this?” Chili sneered. “I fear your calculations will fall short, because the Great Khan also has a Temple shaman by his side. He will intervene.”

“Do you really think Batu didn’t consider that? Perhaps he didn’t before, but now that he’s here, there’s no turning back. Whether he has the Temple’s support or not doesn’t matter—he only needs the support of Great Xia. He knew I would come to stop you, yet said nothing. That already proves his stance.”

Chili laughed bitterly. “Then why stop me? It would be better to let me go to Batu’s camp. He could turn around and cut me to pieces.”

“You are, after all, a direct disciple of the Temple, of no small status. At that critical moment, it might not be Batu who wavers, but his army. Keeping you away is the cleanest solution. Batu agrees.”

Chili looked at the distant sunset clouds and sighed. “It seems these matters are not for me.”

Yue Hongling smiled. “I feel the same. I’ve always followed Changhe, doing whatever he said, and felt quite lost. Instead, this solitary confrontation stirs more battle spirit in me.”

Chili slowly drew his blade. “Indeed… perhaps our glory is meant to bloom on this blade and this sword.”

Yue Hongling dismounted, patted Red Hare’s rump to send it a little away, then turned to Chili, composed herself, and saluted with her sword. “Please.”

The curved blade tore through the evening glow, its sound like a wailing cry, as if the horn of battle.

Almost at the same moment, the shaman beside Temur also spurred his horse toward Batu’s army, shouting from afar: “Where is Khan Batu?!”

Before he could finish, a magnificent black steed burst from Batu’s ranks. A burly man on horseback gripped a broadsword, charging with the horse’s momentum to deliver a savage strike.

The words had barely left his mouth when the broadsword reached his chest.

The shaman urgently bent backward, dodging the blade, swallowing the words “I am a shaman of the Eternal Heaven” back into his belly, unable to speak.

From within the army, Batu sighed. “Zhao Changhe is far too considerate. He was afraid my army’s morale would be cowed by the Eternal Heaven.”

A trusted subordinate glanced at him.

Batu said, “Now that it’s come to this, do you still want to be cowards, bowing and offering cattle and sheep?”

“The cattle and sheep are ours! The women are ours! This is no gamble—we strike his rear, and Huangfu Yongxian is no fool; he will cooperate! This is our best chance. The hegemony is right before us. Miss it, and it will never come again!”

Batu could see the madness in his subordinates’ eyes, for this truly was the best chance, never to return.

Could others become khan? Why not us?

Batu raised his war blade and roared: “Attack! Crush the Vulture tribe ahead!”

A torrent swept forward.

The shaman, unable to finish his words, exchanged a few moves with Zhao Changhe as the army surged past, engulfing him in an instant.

Countless blades descended; the Dragon Sparrow swung at his neck. The shaman had no hands to resist. He was almost dismembered as he fell from his horse, his head severed by the Dragon Sparrow, his eyes wide in disbelief that Batu had truly dared!

Zhao Changhe turned his head. Batu’s soldiers had already crashed into the ranks of the Vulture tribe ahead.

Everything that needed to be done was done. Whether they could win depended on this battle!

The lives of Great Xia—you don’t care, but I do. You don’t want to manage them, but I will!

Coming to the steppe, I have no regrets!

He took a deep breath, spurred his horse, and charged into the formation.

The Vulture tribe was not a very strong clan. Their leader, Vulture Hunter Fang, was a formidable warrior, holding the top spot on the Human Ranking for some time. When Herre died and the Earth Ranking opened up, he squeezed into thirty-sixth place.

But this Earth Ranking was somewhat dubious. In truth, he was still at the first secret vault level of the Human Ranking, unable to fill Herre’s gap.

Don’t be fooled by San Niang single-handedly fighting an army at Yellow Sand Market—that was against a few hundred elites. When the tens of thousands arrived, she would have to flee. In the chaos of thousands upon thousands of soldiers, personal bravery could lead to victory, but many factors decided the outcome.

San Niang was like this; so were Tang Wanzhuang and Maitreya before. Vulture Hunter Fang could change little.

Vulture Hunter Fang charged left and right through the battle lines, his spear felling men and horses, none able to withstand him. For a moment, he was invincible, fierce and unstoppable, as if he could break through and take Batu’s banner.

But if anyone could hold him off for a few moves, he would immediately be bogged down.

Like now.

Vulture Hunter Fang swept a soldier off his horse with his spear, then suddenly felt an oppressive aura approaching. Before the man arrived, it felt like a tiger descending a mountain, charging straight at him.

He turned to see a burly man charging through the formation on horseback. As he rode, he slowly raised his broadsword, as if building momentum to its peak with every stride, so that at the moment of crossing, he would strike with maximum force.

This was a master who understood the application of “momentum,” already peering into the gate of secret vaults—not an ordinary soldier.

It suited Herre’s style. Which young hero of the War Lion tribe was this?

A thought flashed through Vulture Hunter Fang’s mind as his spear shot like lightning toward the man’s chest.

“Clang!” The Dragon Sparrow fell, blade meeting spear. The newcomer clearly could not match Vulture Hunter Fang’s strength; he was thrown backward over his horse’s back, nearly falling off.

But regardless, the unstoppable momentum of Vulture Hunter Fang was checked. As the man was thrown back, countless blades and spears thrust in from all sides. Vulture Hunter Fang had no time to finish him off; he was instantly mired in a melee.

Because their vanguard was blocked, the surrounding troops began to take casualties, screams rising without end.

The newcomer adjusted his breath, turned his horse, and struck again.

Vulture Hunter Fang parried with his spear and shouted: “State your name!”

Zhao Changhe pointed his blade back: “Zhao Changhe of the Central Plains, here to test the courage of Khan Vulture Hunter!”

His voice carried for miles. Both sides in the battle were moved.

This was a young man no one had heard of a year ago, first remembered for the ridiculous title of “Two Hundred and Fifty on the Hidden Dragon Ranking.”

Never could he have imagined that one year later, charging on horseback with his blade raised, he would point it directly at a legendary figure of the grasslands without a shred of fear.

"Sixth on the Hidden Dragon rank, you certainly live up to your name." Vulture Hunter-Fang spurred his horse forward, spear thrusting out: "Too bad you die here today!"

"Is that so? Perhaps the Khan should look around instead; your men are almost wiped out. Tarry with me for a few more moves, and you won't be able to leave at all." As Zhao Changhe spoke, his eyes suddenly turned blood-red.

Actively entering the state of "Universe Without Self," the blood-wraith energy rushed to his head, his muscles bulged, all reason vanished, and his entire being seemed to expand by a whole size.

The blade also began to glow with a crimson light, enhanced by "Gods and Buddhas Scatter," resonating with the innate power of the Dragon-Sparrow sabre as it plunged into a frenzy.

This was Zhao Changhe's strongest state, an all-buffs-active condition that he rarely dared to deploy lightly.

If he did not use it now, he would never have the chance again.

That was a spear strike that condensed the lifelong cultivation of a top-tier master on the Human Rank.

Seen through eyes devoid of reason, this thrust did not seem like a spear at all; it was a meteor falling through the void, a single finger descending as gods and Buddhas tore open the sky, carrying howling flames and a fierce, all-destroying light.

Though heads swarmed around him and the battle roared to high heaven, no one could share his burden.

It was as if he stood alone in the primal ocean, empty and solitary, facing a crushing weight that could destroy heaven and earth.

"Roar!" The wild blade rose again, meeting the falling meteor.

Space seemed to freeze, blood-wraith energy welled up from the ground, and the entire void was filled with a crimson light that blanketed the world of men.

If the universe already holds no self, if gods and Buddhas are no longer in the mortal realm, then what place is this?

Purgatory itself!

The Blood-Wraith Saber Technique had reached the ultimate killing move of its hidden treasury!

"Clang!" A colossal roar shattered the firmament, the purgatory vanished, the meteor crushed the earth, space cracked, and the battlefield returned.

Zhao Changhe spat out a massive mouthful of fresh blood and slumped over his horse as it galloped away.

He wasn't dead.

He had withstood it.

That was enough!

With Zhao Changhe blocking this blow, Vulture Hunter-Fang truly lost all room to maneuver; shadows pressed thick around him—it was all goddamned enemies, and the elite forces he brought to charge had been completely decimated, with barely a soul left.

Countless blades and swords surrounded him, ten thousand spears thrusting together, truly resembling a mountain of knives in hell.

Vulture Hunter-Fang could not catch up to deal Zhao Changhe a finishing blow; he swiftly swept away the spear formation behind him and barked fiercely: "All troops... retreat!"

Vulture Hunter-Fang risked his life to break through, the Vulture Tribe's battle formation shattered into pieces, and the War-Lions roared, rampaging forward as their vanguard reached Temür's central army in the blink of an eye.

Zhao Changhe weakly raised his head from his horse, beside him Batu with a peculiar expression: "I have to admit, you are truly... incredible. I'm starting to admire you a bit."

Zhao Changhe coughed up blood weakly: "Cut the crap, I thought you were going to take the chance to hack me down."

"Why would I hack you? I still need you to help me connect with the Great Xia... also, Temür has arrived, where is the Heaven Rank figure you spoke of?"

Zhao Changhe snapped his head up as the sky suddenly grew dark.

Dust flew, stones rolled, and the sun and moon lost their light.

A fierce man with a golden band wrapped around his forehead and a giant axe in hand appeared in mid-air, coldly declaring: "Batu, your crime is unforgivable!"

The giant axe chopped down.

A gleam of sword light arose from nowhere, parrying the side of the giant axe: "Great Khan, pray compose yourself."

"Ying Wu!" Temür was furious: "Do you mean to completely tear off the mask with us? From now on, there will be no place for you Xia people to reside upon the grasslands!"

A handsome middle-aged man leisurely appeared before him, a smile on his face, his voice gentle: "The Great Khan had better first consider whether, from this day forth, you still have any say in Southern Mobei..."

"Do you think that with you alone, you can stop me?"

"There is more than just him..." Another sword light came from the east, purple mist filling the sky.

"Cui Wenjing..." Temür looked down at the weakened Zhao Changhe: "Participating in this dispute is not in your family's interest. Did you come here because this person brought you together?"

Cui Wenjing's expression was rather unsightly: "If I didn't come, my son would die here. Heaven knows why he refused to leave?"

Farther to the deep north, a monk with disheveled hair was racing southward.

His speed was like that of a god or Buddha; it seemed that with one step, he could cross a hundred miles of wind and cloud.

Yet his footsteps suddenly ground to a halt: "Benefactor Li, why are you here?"

A bronze-skinned man with a sorrowful, bitter face appeared before him: "My disciple went mad and refused to leave, so we masters have no choice but to come out and show our faces."

The Sect Master of the Divine Radiance, Li Shentong.

With the Heaven Rank figures holding each other in check, they could no longer affect the war of mortals.

At Yanmen Pass, Huangfu Yongxian noticed that the Hu barbarians attacking the pass were retreating; looking into the far distance, immense dust rose from their rear, and the shouts of slaughter shook the sky.

The experienced general was overjoyed: "A change has occurred at the enemy's rear, open the city gates, all troops charge!"

The pass gates flung wide open, and the Great Xia cavalry swept out like a flood.

In this battle, the War-Lion tribe assaulted the rear of the Golden Horde, while the Great Xia defenders of Yanmen launched an attack from the pass; caught in a pincer movement from front and back, the Hu army fell into utter chaos, suffering countless casualties, fleeing a thousand miles into the desert.

The hegemony of the grasslands shifted; the War-Lion tribe, having lost their Earth Rank leader, rose in Southern Mobei, which carried a touch of irony.

Heavy snow fell in great flakes, blanketing these thousand miles of white bones as if in memorial.

The golden light in the sky contrasted with the flying snow, as if informing the world of the exact details and outcome of this battle.

Under the overwhelming tide, Chi Li had no heart to fight on; wounded in the left arm by Yue Hongling, he fled in injury; Cui Yuanyong, Si Tu Xiao, Han Wubing, and others all saw their positions shift on the Chronicle of the Turbulent World. But no matter how many people were climbing the ranks, everyone's gaze remained focused on the final name.

Long paragraphs of summary read like a legend.

"Zhao Changhe, one year into his cultivation, eighth profound gate, practicing both internal and external arts.

"Assassinated Temür's envoy with Yue Hongling in Batu's army, assassinated Ubalu with Han Wubing within the Yellow Sand Market, slew the Shaman before the two armies, resisted Vulture Hunter-Fang in the midst of battle, and aided the War-Lion tribe in crushing the Vulture tribe, forcing Vulture Hunter-Fang to break through and flee.

"Ultimately creating a pincer formation, utterly defeating Temür's army at Yanmen.

"From autumn to winter, traversing a thousand miles, dominating Southern Mobei, accumulating military merits unto success, the impact of which is immeasurable.

"The Hidden Dragon Rank alters.

"First on the Hidden Dragon Rank, Zhao Changhe!"

"They say a man's heart is as iron unto death; watch him try his hand at mending the fractures of heaven!"

It mattered not whether the judgment referred solely to Zhao Changhe or to all the heroes who shed their blood to defend the nation's gates in this battle.

These accumulated military merits shone splendidly across the firmament, more dazzling than any judgment; no top-ranked Hidden Dragon of past generations had ever been so blinding, not even on the Human Rank.

He could well be called the strongest Hidden Dragon Number One in history.

Having crossed into this world, his name shook the lands under heaven.

【End of Volume Three】

Volume Four: The Path of a Grandmaster