Chapter 778: The Battle Between You and Me Can Shake Deities

Chapter 778: Our Battle Can Shake the Gods

Watching the Eternal Sky God’s skills, seemingly closely tied to the natural five elements, actually revealed him to be a violent warrior—the kind of man Xia Longyuan had called “a man with some backbone.” He lacked the deep cunning to hide his emotions, and upon hearing Zhao Changhe’s words, his face changed color.

The shift between illusion and reality was not within his own power; it was achieved through the Heavenly Book.

What did it mean to borrow the power of the Heavenly Book?

Zhao Changhe had never truly made good use of it. All he could do was gain insights and learn; the stronger effects were beyond his reach, reducing it to little more than a study room.

Long ago, he thought it was “unlocked,” “incomplete,” or “unable to unleash its power.” But later, when he fought the Dorje Venerable in the Spirit Clan, that Venerable—without even hands, unable to grasp the Heavenly Book—could stand beside it and borrow its might to shape flesh and blood into a physical body. What terrifying creative power was that?

Yet when it came to his own hands, he had secretly tried and failed utterly. At best, he could use it to fuse his Blood Shura Body with a rapid recovery ability—far from the level of creating flesh and blood. The Heavenly Book’s power in his hands seemed as if it had been devoured.

By now, he should have understood... It had nothing to do with incompleteness. The real reason was that the Heavenly Book did not truly belong to him.

A sentient treasure is different from ordinary objects. The book’s spirit has absolute autonomy; if it hasn’t acknowledged a master, the book is not yours. No matter how great its power, a blind man wields it. She grants only as much effect as she chooses, much like how the early days saw the Vermilion Bird cooperating only with his use of its material.

So he used it as material—good for wiping things, self-absorbing, no need for washing.

But that’s a digression... In short, in the Eternal Sky God’s view, wielding the Heavenly Book’s power meant reaching the pinnacle of that law. No one in the world could see through it. How had Zhao Changhe managed it?

Knowing he possessed the Heavenly Book might let him guess the entire plan—but that was impossible! Even if he knew about the shift between illusion and reality, how could he know where that power would be applied? Who would randomly guess that the people passing by the empty tribe’s camp were actually there?

Unfortunately, Zhao Changhe hadn’t guessed. He had seen it all from start to finish. And when he tested it, aside from himself, even Huangfu Qing—whose cultivation surpassed his—and Yue Hongling—with her sword-heart clarity—could see nothing. In the entire army, only he could perceive it.

The Eyes in the Back of His Head—this “useless cheat” he’d had since his first day crossing over, once used only to peep at women bathing—had finally revealed its terrifying true value.

He had once thought the Eyes were the Eyes of a God or Demon... Now Zhao Changhe suspected it was more than a vague title. They were clearly the eyes of a specific demon god.

Only she could match the Heavenly Book’s power, even surpass it by a notch. After all, she already had seven pages; it was no surprise that a single page’s ability could be seen through by her eyes.

She wasn’t a system, handing out cheats freely. Everything she gave came from her own power... When he drew the card related to the throne, he was sent to Chi Chi’s side—that was her ability to read qi and causality, almost like a great prophecy. Even if the prophecy failed, she knew Chi Chi was Xia Longyuan’s daughter, so it could still be explained as related to the throne.

And those eyes?—She always kept them closed. Where were her eyes?

Regardless, this shift between illusion and reality, which could mislead anyone, had been completely shattered by Zhao Changhe. And Huangfu Qing, prompted by Zhao Changhe, naturally saw through the enemy’s trap. She unleashed the brilliant acting skills she’d honed while playing two identities. All along this march, she had played along with the enemy’s plans, and no one but Zhao Changhe could tell she was acting.

...

With two dull clangs, Zhao Changhe and Yue Hongling were knocked back. The Eternal Sky God silently took a palm strike from Li Shentong, yet sneered without injury: “Is this your strength?”

The next moment, Li Shentong was sent flying backward, and a fist was already at his chest: “Let’s see if the Divine Furnace’s body-forging of the Divine Wilderness can withstand this blow!”

Swords and blades roared behind him. How could Zhao Changhe and his wife let Li Shentong face this blow alone? They struck out together, trying to divert the attack.

Li Shentong felt a bit amused. He didn’t know why everyone instinctively assumed he fought by trading blows and tanking damage—even the Eternal Sky God fell for it, all wanting to test him. Who the hell fought like that? Even his disciple Situ Xiao and Zhao Changhe’s battle at Langya had been full of technique, let alone him...

Li Shentong retreated slightly, his palm slanting to block.

Even Zhao Changhe and Yue Hongling, behind the Eternal Sky God, could clearly feel an intent like an iron chain spanning a river. The Eternal Sky God’s punch, seemingly violent, was deftly sealed within a small space, its energy dissipating without a ripple.

“Clang!” Zhao Changhe and Yue Hongling’s blades struck the Eternal Sky God’s back at the perfect moment. At the same time, Li Shentong’s palm, which had blocked the punch, suddenly erupted.

What had been a futile attack now exploded with endless wind and thunder in this counterstrike, its power more than ten times greater than before!

This was the true essence of the Divine Furnace Wind-Thunder Palm—the art of defense and counterattack.

Zhao Changhe understood it intuitively; he could connect many things.

But unfortunately, even the combined assault of the three still proved useless.

“Boom!” A violent blast of air surged outward. The three retreated together to dissipate the force. In the smoke, the Eternal Sky God looked down at the Taiji diagram beneath his feet and muttered, “Troublesome treasure... It grinds my power like a millstone, or else you’d all be wounded here.”

Yu Xu himself was still injured, but he had treasures to lend. The Taiji Diagram, once the vessel of the Dao Lord, was the foundation of Yu Xu’s cultivation—one of the top treasures in the world besides the Heavenly Book, an embodiment of fundamental laws.

The Eternal Sky God had his own treasure; his divine axe was no less formidable and might even have a greater origin. But it was now hidden in Zhao Changhe’s ring.

Even with this shift in power, and the Eternal Sky God still wounded, Zhao Changhe, Yue Hongling, and Li Shentong felt as if they were fighting the heavens themselves in these two probing assaults, unable to harm him at all.

“If it’s just you three, with no other tricks... then unfortunately, you’ll all die here.” A cruel glint flashed in the Eternal Sky God’s eyes as he raised his imitation divine axe, poised to strike.

Just the gesture brought rolling dark clouds and thunder from the sky, the oppressive layers descending from the heavens, pressing down on their heads with suffocating weight.

It seemed a great move was coming...

But at that moment, the Eternal Sky God’s expression shifted again.

Zhao Changhe gripped the Vermilion Bird tightly and leaped forward with a strike meant to scatter gods and buddhas: “Since I dared to come north, I have a way to kill you. Stop posturing!”

“Bang!” Blade and axe clashed. The dark clouds seemed split apart by the blade, and sunlight poured through. A red sun emerged from the rift, and a sword light blazed across the sky.

The husband-and-wife team moved in perfect sync. Li Shentong stepped in to aid, curious about what had distracted the Eternal Sky God and weakened his momentum.

On the surface, this battle seemed unwinnable... Where was the key? Li Shentong’s mind stirred, and in the midst of battle, he glanced at the situation.

What he saw made his face turn a mix of colors.

...

When Zhao Changhe and Yue Hongling had chased into the sky, thinking the young couple had rushed to their deaths before the god, Bo’e was waiting leisurely in the tribe for Huangfu Qing’s attack.

From Huangfu Qing’s perspective, Zhao and Yue would have chased Bo’e, and she would easily lead the army to break the tribe, only to fall into a trap.

But Bo’e waited and waited, and for a long time, the Han army didn’t come.

Puzzled, Bo’e probed with his divine sense—and his eyes nearly popped out.

The Han army, which had set out with light cavalry and not even enough food or water, had somehow produced countless tents, fences, and deer antlers from nowhere. They were now setting up camp with their backs to a barren mountain, grunting with effort.

Where had these supplies come from? You were light cavalry roaming the grasslands—how did you bring fences and deer antlers? How?

The soldiers, who had been grumbling about shortages of food and water, now inexplicably had all kinds of dried meat, flatbreads, and bags of clean water. They were eating and drinking in batches, quite content. The time Bo’e spent waiting in the tribe had given them a perfect chance to eat well...

Who exactly had that page of the Heavenly Book for illusion and reality? How did your stuff appear? Bo’e even wondered if they might pull out a whole city if they kept digging!

Since you had these things, why hadn’t you used them during the march?

Horse hooves thundered from the south.

The tribes along the way had gathered into an army, and upon receiving the earlier thunder signal, they immediately charged toward this place.

Bo’e made a snap decision: “They have only thirty to forty thousand troops! While their camp isn’t set up yet, we’ll attack from both sides—they’ll collapse!”

In an instant, the seemingly undefended tribe turned into a flood of warriors sweeping across the mountains, surging toward the Han army encamped at the foot of the hill.

Bo’e flew into the air again, his staff pointing. Thunder identical to the earlier blast struck the Han camp, aiming to stop them from fortifying.

Suddenly, the air filled with strange sparks. Lightning and fire intertwined, blazing like fireworks on a New Year’s night in the capital. The thunder dissipated in the sparks, and a soaring firebird shot into the sky, its clear phoenix cry audible for a hundred miles.

The woman who, in Zhao Changhe’s mind, had her own theme music... Her battles were always a feast for the senses.

“Great Shaman, calm yourself. Huangfu has been waiting for you.” A fiery spear thrust out from the firebird’s manifestation—a weapon Huangfu Qing hadn’t used in at least seven or eight years. In martial combat, she rarely needed a weapon, and this one was too long for travel.

But here, amidst the charge of thousands of troops, it seemed to align with the Dao’s definition.

For the first time, she called herself Huangfu before an enemy—the blood of a general, not the “Vermilion Bird” she had claimed for sixteen or seventeen years.

“Clang!” Bo’e’s staff met the spear with a crisp metallic ring. Blazing flames rushed toward his face along the point of impact. Lightning flashed in Bo’e’s eyes; fire and thunder clashed, and both staggered.

A mocking smile curled on Huangfu Qing’s lips: “Looks like your wound hasn’t healed either.”

Bo’e had been unlucky. Wounded by Xia Longyuan in the Imperial Ancestral Temple battle and losing his divine axe, mocked by the Heavenly Book’s spirit, he had lost the struggle for the grasslands to Temujin. Then he went to Chang’an for a detour, only to be beaten by this family of three again, adding new injuries to old.

Not everyone had dual-cultivation techniques and rejuvenation laws. A normal person needed months to recover from injuries. Zhao Changhe’s hasty northern campaign, launched before the Eternal Sky God could fully revive, also caught Bo’e before his wounds healed.

This former second on the Heavenly Ranking, who should have taken first after Xia Longyuan’s death as the “one closest to god,” had been unable to display his true power in these few months—neither short nor long. He had failed to keep up with the wave of breakthroughs, now only matching Huangfu Qing in single combat.

Before his injury, Huangfu Qing had only been on the Earthly Ranking, not even breaking through the third secret realm. Now they were equals. One could imagine how frustrated Bo’e felt at this moment.

He took a deep breath and said coldly, "The Vermilion Bird Venerable has the leisure to chat idly with me in midair? Your camp is not yet built, your soldiers are so hungry they're eating on the fly—are you not afraid they'll be annihilated by dawn?"

Huangfu Qing smiled faintly. "I don't mind."

Bo E was taken aback. While parrying the Vermilion Bird's swift and fiery assault, he stole a moment to glance downward.

His own torrent of troops was now only three or five li from the unfinished Han camp—almost within a blink's reach. Many warriors had already unslung their bows, ready to shoot from afar.

His gaze fell upon the Han camp, where Xue Canghai was laboriously hauling something from who knows where. Bo E watched helplessly as one after another, pitch-black cannon barrels rose within the camp.

Looking out across the expanse, there were at least thirty or forty of them.

But unfortunately, he had no idea what they were.

"Boom! Rumble!"

While the range of Bo E's elite archers and crossbowmen was still far off, dozens of cannons roared in unison.

The northern barbarian cavalry charging at the forefront were instantly thrown from their horses, crushed into pulp. Whirling shrapnel danced wildly, sending sprays of blood splattering all around.

Bo E froze for a moment, nearly impaled by the Vermilion Bird's spear. He dodged frantically and cried out in dismay, "What is this!"

What is this!

This was the same question screaming in the hearts of countless steppe warriors. For a moment, the entire steppe seemed frozen in time.

Even the Vermilion Bird's terrifying demon-god flames had been countered by the Great Shaman for everyone, but what were these?

The thunderous roar was like the wrath of the Eternal Heaven, the towering flames like divine punishment. Thunder and fire intertwined, both in the sky and on the earth.

Was this divine punishment!

Why had the Eternal Heaven's punishment fallen upon the steppe warriors? Were they not devout enough? Had they somehow offended Heaven?

Bo E's roar finally echoed across the land: "Do not be deceived by their sorcery! This must be some application of the Vermilion Bird's fire! They cannot reload indefinitely! The Revered God sees your devotion and will grant you endless strength! Charge!"

"Boom! Rumble!" The second volley of cannon fire thundered once more.

The Eternal Heaven God, who was in the midst of raising an axe to unleash a great technique, had no choice but to spare a moment to grant protection.

As if confirming Bo E's words, this time the knights struck by the cannonade flashed with light; the impact threw them from their horses, and they were ultimately shaken to death, but the wildly flying shrapnel no longer sprayed and wounded others. Compared to the previous round that had turned men and horses into pulp, this was far more bearable.

This was indeed the Eternal Heaven God's protection granted in the midst of His busyness. Even though many still died, the steppe cavalry's eyes burned with even greater fervor.

This was a miracle! All the enemy's tricks were laid bare before the revered deity!

People's fear lies only in the unknown. As long as it was not an incomprehensible divine punishment, even if the enemy had some advanced weapons, how could the lions of the steppe be afraid?

Bo E finally let out a sigh of relief.

Watching the continuing torrent of the charge, the Vermilion Bird also sighed helplessly. It could only be said that Zhao Changhe's side was still not strong enough—they had allowed the Eternal Heaven God to have the spare power to look after His followers. There was no help for it; on the Eternal Heaven's own territory, He was one with this land and thus the strongest. Even Xia Longyuan could not kill Him on His own ground, or else He would have been destroyed long ago—how could the stalemate have lasted so many years?

That the enemy could only grant such a limited effect was already a testament to how effectively Zhao Changhe and his people were tying Him down... Who knew what state Zhao Changhe was in at this moment?

To defeat the Eternal Heaven God was actually beyond everyone's current ability. His true body was intact, stronger than the Dao Lord who only had a soul remnant. There was only one way to weaken Him: to slaughter His followers in great numbers, shaking His qi veins and faith—essentially the same as when Xia Longyuan's realm had fallen.

This was the greatest significance of the Northern Expedition!

The outcome of the war between races could indeed affect the result of the battle at the Imperial Realm.

In other words, the core of this Northern Expedition had always been the war between Hu and Han, not the victory or defeat at the Imperial Realm. Zhao Changhe had always known this—it was a result that required everyone, every single soldier, to exert their utmost strength.

"Boom! Rumble!" The third volley of cannon fire struck again.

The deputy general in the army was relaying Huangfu Qing's orders: "Cannons are merely a diversion; they have never been enough to decide the battle! Where are the archers!"

"Swish, swish, swish!" Arrows flew like locusts, blotting out the sun and sky.

The cannons were not yet reliable, but their purpose had been to buy time until the camp was fully fortified. Now the Han camp was lined with neat rows of caltrops and abatis, while the enemy... were all cavalry.

Suddenly, offense and defense had swapped roles, and the war entered the rhythm most familiar to the Han army.

But was it not also the rhythm familiar to the Hu? For so many years, it had always been so.

To the south, dust clouds from cavalry were also visible—the tribe that had been thought to have "disappeared" had actually been trailing behind them all along, waiting to pincer them once they fell into the trap.

But Huangfu Qing had set up camp against the mountain, with a semi-circular mountain behind and a semi-circular palisade wall in front—where was the pincer? There was only a narrow encounter, a final contest of strength and courage.

Huangfu Qing's voice, both valiant and commanding, rang across the battlefield: "We will not be like the ignorant barbarians, who only know to kneel and beg for the Eternal Heaven's protection! Our Great Han does not believe in that. What I once believed was that our own efforts could aid the Night Emperor's descent; now I believe that the victory or defeat in our hands can tip the scales of the gods!"