Chapter 782: The Demon Fox's Curtain Fall

Chapter 782 The Curtain Falls on the Demonic Fox

The roaring shout of Huangfu Yongxian did not startle Vulture Lieya, but it struck panic into Temur.

A mere sneak attack by Batu was of no consequence to Temur; even when joined by Wu Weiyang's ten thousand elite cavalry in a pincer attack, it was not yet critical.

For Temur's rear was teeming with men... any two tribes thrown forward could at least hold off Wu Weiyang's forces.

But if the vanguard were to collapse at this exact juncture, Temur would truly begin to break into a cold sweat.

Even Chi Li knew that Vulture Lieya might not hold the line to the death, so how could Temur not know? From any perspective, other people's tribes possessed no such loyalty to perish for you. The more precarious the situation grew, the more he could only trust his own Golden Wolf Army.

To the left and right of the rear, barbarian cavalry surged out in all directions to meet Batu and Wu Weiyang; simultaneously, the main army moved in force as Temur's Golden Wolf Army finally pressed forward across the entire line.

As thoughts of retreat whirled in Vulture Lieya's mind, a great roar of battle arose behind him, and the sky-blotting Golden Wolf Army came rushing like a torrential tide.

Vulture Lieya could only reluctantly suppress his urge to retreat, though his mind began to race even faster.

This situation... a vast majority of the Golden Wolf Army had actually abandoned their horses to clash head-on with the Han army's formations, an occurrence utterly impossible in the past.

Temur needed to maintain his absolute, terrifying rule over the various tribes. If the Golden Wolf Army were truly crippled, it would cause immense trouble for him even after a grand victory—for instance, Vulture Lieya could simply conspire in secret with Bo'e to supplant him, as Bo'e and Temur's sincere cooperation was strictly limited to this single battle.

Temur would ordinarily only drive the other tribes to bleed and waste away, keeping his own Golden Wolf Army as the final, decisive weight. Yet at this moment, a hard-pressed Temur, in order to stabilize Vulture Lieya, had actually thrust the Golden Wolf Army into the very front to clash regardless of losses...

Military affairs are merely a continuation of politics. Today, the fighting capacity of the steppe tribes in a grueling war was truly inferior to that of the unified Great Han, even if they held the advantage in terms of numbers.

This was also a key reason why Zhao Changhe was eager for the northern expedition; he would not allow the Sky God to fully awaken and bind the entire steppe into a single entity. As these thoughts turned in Vulture Lieya's mind, before he could form a new judgment, the Golden Wolf Army had already merged with his tribe, crashing into Huangfu Yongxian's battle formation in a chaotic frenzy.

Men fell continuously on both sides, with warriors from the rear swiftly filling the gaps; arrows fell like rain from above, and the sands below soon turned into a vast expanse like cinnabar.

New vultures circled in the sky, gazing down at the ant-like slaughter, waiting for the night when the sounds of killing would fade away.

"Huh... what is going on over there?" Vulture Lieya's heart suddenly leaped.

When the Batu tribe was originally destroyed, not only were the casualties catastrophic, but they had also hidden in the Gobi desert all winter, lacking food and clothing. Even if they received aid, it could not be much due to transport limits. Appearing now, they were still practically in rags, with some wearing only half-hanging leather armor and others riding horses so emaciated their bones were visible—a quintessential "band of beggars." Even if such a tribe turned out in full force, and their numbers looked substantial, their combat effectiveness could well be imagined; it was assumed they would easily be encircled and devoured.

Yet right now, while even the well-equipped forces of Wu Weiyang attacking from the eastern route were locked in a bitter struggle, the Batu tribe to the west had instead pierced straight through. The several tribes Temur had arranged to encircle them collapsed almost at the first touch, easily intercepted and reaped by Batu with heavy casualties, unable to contain them in the slightest.

How could this be? The elite quality of this beggar tribe actually surpassed that of Wu Weiyang's army?

Temur's furious roar echoed from the heavens: "Ying Wu, you are a master of the Heavenly Rank, yet you hide in Batu's army pretending to be a mere lieutenant—have you no shame!"

Vulture Lieya: "..."

Ying Wu's gentle and calm voice drifted across the battlefield: "It cannot be helped... the Chieftain has broken through, the Shaman has broken through, King Zhao has broken through, Li Shentong has broken through, and even Ying's niece has broken through... yet for some reason, Ying is stuck at that threshold, unable to find the gate to breakthrough. In this world of gods and demons, the Triple Secret Treasure is merely a common soldier. If someone of Vulture Lieya's strength can serve as the vanguard for the Chieftain, is it not entirely normal for Ying to ride for the King of Monan?"

The corner of Vulture Lieya's mouth twitched.

He himself was of the Triple Secret Treasure, but only at the newly broken-through initial stage, and Huangfu Yongxian was still standing right in front of him. Even if Ying Wu hadn't fully broken through, he was already at the half-step mark. For the tribes assigned to bully Batu's "beggar army" to face a half-step breakthrough Ying Wu, how could they even fucking fight?

You, a half-step breakthrough master, bullying ordinary tribal soldiers! This horse bandit is more shameless than both the barbarians and the Han combined, a true collapse of propriety and total ruin of rules.

"Boom!" A golden shadow of a spear descended from the sky, charging straight toward Batu's troops.

Ying Wu rose swiftly into the air, striking out with a hand to disperse the spear shadow into the horizon, his figure never stopping as he ascended back into the high heavens: "Since the Chieftain invites battle, Ying shall risk his life to accompany a gentleman."

Increasingly shameless... Temur might originally have been slightly superior to Sanniang, but under the chaotic state of the battle, he was immensely distracted, needing to command while also drying the earth, leaving him with no choice but to be suppressed and beaten by Sanniang. If not for being strong enough, he would have fallen long ago. Now that Ying Wu emerged to pincer him with Sanniang, how could you have the nerve to call this "risking one's life to accompany a gentleman"? Is this not taking advantage of illness to claim a life?

That's right, is Yuan Sanniang also part of your Greenbelt Brotherhood... is your Brotherhood always like this?

What was even more disgusting was that the rear army formation had already been thrown into chaos by him; what was the use of politely staying out of the fight now? At this point, even if the Batu tribe were a herd of pigs, they could no longer be encircled. They were all warriors who spent their lives on horseback—who didn't know whom? Once the opponent was in disarray, this ragtag force of beggars was enough to turn the entire battlefield upside down.

Vulture Lieya frowned, retreating imperceptibly behind the Golden Wolf Army.

"Boom!" A world-shaking explosion resounded from the high heavens; it was unknown what sort of ultimate move Temur had encountered from Ying Wu, but he was roaring frantically.

Terrifying residual energy scattered in all directions, wild winds swept across, and the clouds in the sky dissolved completely.

Those who still had the strength to look at the sky could see Ying Wu and two Sanniangs thrown back in three different directions, while Temur's figure in the center resembled a god of war.

Temur no longer had any mind to oversee the battlefield, unleashing his full power completely... Had Vulture Lieya seen such a figure in the past, he would likely have prostrated himself on the ground, but at this very moment, it held little significance.

"Go." Vulture Lieya instructed his tribal confidants in a low voice: "The Han army consists mostly of infantry; even if they win, they cannot wage a war of annihilation. At most, they can only rely on the ten or twenty thousand men of the Batu and Wu Weiyang tribes to pursue the various factions. Thus, a powerful tribe will surely preserve its strength to rise in Mobei in the future and replace Temur... Since that is the case, whoever is prepared will be the one. If Batu with his meager strength can become the King of Monan, why can we not be the King of Mobei?"

The confidant had long known his thoughts and replied in an equally low voice: "But Khan, this battle is still deadlocked, with no victor yet. If we flee after a defeat, it is acceptable, and the Sky God may not necessarily decree punishment. But if we withdraw right now, should the Sky God blame us..."

"The momentum can already be seen... with these successive blows, the Han army's fighting spirit grows thicker while ours scatters; the scales have already tipped." Vulture Lieya gnashed his teeth, whispering: "The hardest, bloodiest battle was given to us to hold first; Temur's intentions are clear as day. He also harbors wariness toward me, knowing I am the one most likely to challenge him, and intentionally grinding down our strength. Now that so many of our tribal brothers have died or been wounded, we have done right by the Sky God. Are we truly to let our tribe stand here until the last drop of blood is drained? On what grounds? Just because Temur has a grand face?"

The confidants fell silent, the flames of ambition beginning to burn in their eyes.

On the steppe, the weak were meat for the strong; aside from the binding faith of the Sky God, there was no grace or righteousness to speak of. If Batu's War Lion tribe could rise back then, why could their Vulture tribe not do so today? Everyone was a major tribe, and the War Lion tribe had even lost its Earth Rank leader. If a mere weakling like Batu could be king, their Vulture tribe still possessed a former King and a present Triple Secret Treasure!

The Sky God would decree punishment? Batu hasn't died to this day, has he? If the Golden Horde truly suffers a total defeat, the Sky God will eventually have to support a new tribe anyway; how much could he punish us? Would he truly force us to fight to the very last man? On what grounds!

Besides, the battle situation over on Zhao Changhe and Huangfu Qing's side remains unknown... the Sky God had better worry about himself first!

The word passed in low whispers throughout the Vulture tribe, and they gradually fell back without drawing attention. Soon, among the enemies clashing face-to-face with Huangfu Yongxian, not a single shadow of the Vulture tribe remained; it was entirely the Golden Wolf Army itself.

Yet this sort of backward pull involving tens of thousands of men, no matter how much it was done "without drawing attention," could still be clearly reflected as an upheaval in the overall situation—the vanguard was in chaos!

How could the veteran Huangfu Yongxian fail to see it?

"The Vulture tribe is defeated! All armies, charge!" The voice was not only transmitted to his own side, but also to the enemy.

"The Vulture tribe is defeated!"

"The vanguard has collapsed!"

Feeling the sensation of waves pushing backward from the front—a classic sign of a routed retreat—the clueless Golden Wolf Army in the rear began to fall into mutual confusion, and the encroaching Vulture tribe instead threw the Golden Wolf Army's formations into utter disarray.

"Swoosh!" Huangfu Yongxian unhorsed a Golden Wolf Army general with a single spear thrust, raising his spear to roar: "Press forward!"

The Han army pressed forward like a rising tide, like falling dominoes; the Golden Wolf Army began to scatter from the front, extending all the way to the main army.

This time, it was a true "vanguard collapse"!

Batu led his men charging left and right, and seeing the turbulent situation ahead, he likewise raised his blade and bellowed: "The Golden Wolf Army is defeated! Brothers, charge for me!"

"Clang!" Wu Weiyang parried the scimitar of a tribal chief, likewise shouting fiercely: "The Golden Wolf Army is already defeated! Do you all still intend to stubbornly resist!"

The retreat of the Vulture tribe pulled a single hair that moved the entire body; the whole battlefield began to bleed out completely.

The two sharp blades of Batu and Wu Weiyang pierced straight into the rear, while Huangfu Yongxian advanced fiercely. The barbarian cavalry that seemed to cover the mountains and plains fell into utter chaos, and countless tribes began to seek their own ways out, spurring their horses to flee for their lives. Among them, the Vulture tribe, which had prepared earliest, mounted their horses en masse and charged toward the rear, throwing the back into an even greater tangled mess—those who didn't know better would have thought they were the vanguard of the Han army...

The grand rout occurred in a mere instant!

Under the pressure of Ying Wu and Sanniang, Temur had only averted his eyes from the battle for a moment—unable even to distinguish whether Vulture Lieya had truly been defeated and retreated or had done so intentionally—and the army formations below had already completely broken down, leaving nothing but a one-sided slaughter and pursuit.

The wolf banners were broken, a sea of blood and mountains of corpses formed, and screams of agony echoed across the wilderness, reaching straight to the vault of heaven.

The blue sky stretched idly; the Sky God offered no favor.

"Preserve our strength! All armies, retreat!" Temur resolutely unleashed his final roar, no longer bothering with how the other tribes fared, seeking only to save the strength of his own Golden Wolf Army.

Regrettably, whether it was the Batu tribe, Wu Weiyang, or Huangfu Yongxian pressing from the front, every single person's primary target was the Golden Wolf Army.

"Swoosh!" Sanniang's snake whip swept across, blocking Temur's downward diving path, her face filled with smiles: "Chieftain, do not be impatient; the victor between you and me has yet to be decided..."

Temur was driven to madness with rage, his battle spear sweeping toward Sanniang like a maniac: "Begone!"

Like drawing a spear to sever water, this strike was like smashing into the sea, failing to stir even the slightest effect, while the heavy fist from behind arrived once more.

Temur felt somewhat exhausted in body and soul. If one were to ask what kind of opponent a warrior least desired to face, it would bound to be someone like Xuanwu; her offensiveness might be ordinary, but when it came to entanglement, she could entangle someone until they lost all temper.

"Boom!" Temur threw a heavy fist back in return, intending to clash with Sanniang's fist out of habit, but suddenly found his hand sinking into some bizarre spatial tunnel, dragged off course.

"The Chieftain is impatient... for a warrior who has survived a hundred battles, this should not be."

Ying Wu! The power related to space!

By that slight deviation, his fist failed to meet San Niang's punch, the force spent on empty air, while her fist slammed viciously into his ribs!

Tiemuer burst forth with protective qi, trying to deflect San Niang's blow, while twisting his body to dodge.

But that twist was hindered by something, as if caught in quicksand, his movement half a beat too slow.

“Boom!” The Xuanwu Fist struck heavily against Tiemuer's ribs. He spewed a mouthful of blood, swept his spear to drive back Ying Wu, then staggered backward and vanished north in the blink of an eye.

Blood trickled from the corners of San Niang's and Ying Wu's mouths—Tiemuer's cultivation ultimately surpassed theirs, and the backlash was no easy burden. Yet neither spoke a word; San Niang merged her dual forms, and together with Ying Wu, they silently gave chase.

They did not seek to kill Tiemuer; their only aim was this: to prevent him from rallying his troops and from taking part in the ground battle.

For the battle on Zhao Changhe's side depended on the shift of human destiny and the collapse of faith.

That was everyone's true objective—from start to finish, the strategy had always been clear.

...

“Clang, clang, clang!” Amid the Han army pressing forward on all fronts, one formation remained motionless.

It was the left wing of the rear army where Chili had charged.

Cui Yuanyong's boast had not come true. He had thought that Chili, abandoning his strengths to assault a fortified position, would achieve little. But it proved that when a man has the courage to face death, the power he unleashes far exceeds the ordinary.

He truly pushed Cui Yuanyong back step by step, tearing a gap in the formation. Then his three thousand light cavalry charged through the breach, already penetrating a short distance.

If given a little more time, he might have truly broken through.

But alas, this desperate bloodbath could not take effect before the front collapsed.

If this side had been breached first, the Han army might have fallen into chaos, and Vulture Hunting Fang might not have retreated. Had he not retreated, the entire battle would not yet have deteriorated, leaving enough foundation to slowly recover.

But here it was too slow... ultimately, just a little too slow.

Vulture Hunting Fang's retreat turned Chili into an isolated force charging headlong into a death trap.

“Let's go, young master!” the adjutant beside him urged Chili. “Cui Yuanyong's troops cannot stop us; we can still turn and fight our way out! The Han have a saying: 'As long as the green hills remain, there will be no shortage of firewood.'”

Chili's curved blade clashed once more with Cui Yuanyong's longsword, forcing him back a little, then he reined in his horse to turn around.

But after reining in, he never spurred forward again.

Outside the gap he had torn in the formation stood a silent group of bare-chested men, led by Situ Xiao.

Neither army moved. Cui Yuanyong stood behind, Situ Xiao blocked ahead. Chili sat on his horse, turning his head to look around. The three thousand elite he had brought were now reduced by nearly half, all drenched in blood, their faces smeared with sand, blood, and sweat, making it impossible to recognize anyone.

Yet he could see the incredulous sorrow in every eye.

Having fought so hard, they thought they had a chance to disrupt the enemy... but in the end, they were like clowns.

“Do you think we look like clowns on a stage?” Chili suddenly asked.

“No.” Situ Xiao put away his nonchalant expression and clasped his fists in salute. “You were the top of the Hidden Dragon list alongside us. Once, we were unconvinced, unwilling to admit it... but now, I admit it.”

Chili smiled faintly, turning to Cui Yuanyong behind him. “According to what you told me a few days ago, setting aside those two madmen, in the contest among us mortals, who wins and who loses?”

Cui Yuanyong sighed. “I lost. Just now I could not stop you; if you had more time, I might have had to kill myself in atonement.”

Chili nodded. “Then if I kill myself now, can you spare their lives?”

Cui Yuanyong was silent for a long time, then said in a low voice, “No. You are all heroes, but the greater the hero, the greater the enemy. Once you let the tiger go, endless trouble follows.”

Chili looked up at the sky, as if expecting some response from the Eternal Heaven, but in the end, there was none. The Eternal Heaven had lost its favor.

He said softly, as if to himself, “Surrender... Cui Yuanyong says what he says, but if you surrender, the Han army, claiming to be a civilized force, will not kill prisoners.”

Cui Yuanyong could not help but say, “You can too.”

“I know I can.” Chili smiled. “You surround but do not kill, precisely because you have some pity for heroes and want to persuade surrender. But you dare not.”

Cui Yuanyong and Situ Xiao exchanged glances in silence. Of course they had some regard for heroes, but they were also conflicted: if someone like Chili truly surrendered, would you dare to trust him? Who would take responsibility if something went wrong?

“Forget it.” Chili laughed. “In martial pursuit, hard to catch up to Zhao Yue; in divine faith, no favor at all. I do not know what meaning there is in living on... If my existence can prove anything, it is that on the grasslands, there are not only Batu and Vulture Hunting Fang.”

He paused, then said lightly to Cui Yuanyong, “If within three years, I do not see Vulture Hunting Fang's soul come for judgment in the Eternal Heaven, do not blame me for looking down on you from up there.”

With that, he drew his blade across his throat with a swift slash, as if unwilling to hear the reply that his Eternal Heaven was about to vanish.

But Cui Yuanyong's reply was, “Not even three years.”

Chili showed a smile, blood spurted from his throat, and his body crashed to the ground from his horse.

Both armies silently watched Chili's self-slain corpse. The spring wind howled past, stirring up sand and dust everywhere.

This was the brightest star of the younger generation on the grasslands, who once roamed the Central Plains and was unstoppable except by Yue Hongling. His fall seemed to symbolize the inevitable decline of the Eternal Heaven.

In the distance, the clamor of battle still raged. The brutal slaughter and pursuit spread from north of the Gobi all the way to the royal court of the northern grasslands.