Where Immortals Once Walked

Some emotions did not belong to just him. They rose up from the original owner of this body, or perhaps simply from the blood they shared. Most days He Lingchuan could keep those feelings firmly pressed down, but in moments like this, when danger struck without warning, they surged up all the same.

Hong Chenglue forced the churning blood in his chest back under control and pushed down the wild true energy rampaging through his meridians. With a few absentminded swings, he cut down several nearby enemies, then glanced toward where He Chunhua had fallen.

The official’s figure was hidden under layers of bodies. He could not see a thing.

Not that he needed to. He knew very well how deadly that strike had been. At the very least, He Chunhua’s neck should have been half severed.

That feeling of a blade shearing through throat and bone—he knew it down to the smallest nuance.

Just then, wind roared above his head.

The enormous golden-armored copper man moved again, one massive fist crashing down toward his skull.

Hong Chenglue rolled hard across the ground to evade it, mud and blood splashing around him. When he sprang back to his feet, he found himself staring straight into He Lingchuan’s eyes.

Blood trickled from the corner of the young man’s mouth. His gaze was like ice.

Didn’t I slice the golden-armored copper man’s head off? Why can it still move?

Before the thought finished forming, the golden-armored copper man bent down, picked its own head up from the ground, set it back onto its neck, and lunged after him again.

No one else knew its workings. The construct had four control cores, the main one in the heart, the other three auxiliary cores in the head and both knees. On the outside, it looked human, so most enemies instinctively attacked it like a person—going for the head or the chest.

However, that was basically useless.

Its body was cast from a special alloy. As long as all four cores were not destroyed, it could still move. At worst, it just got a little stiff.

Meanwhile, the rock wolf appeared from who-knew-where and began circling around, darting in from behind at Hong Chenglue’s legs.

Its movements were agile. If a snap missed, it instantly withdrew, biding its time for another strike.

Hong Chenglue swung his blade twice, but all he managed to hack off were a few tufts of fur.

One wolf and one copper man, one nimble and one heavy, worked together with uncanny coordination, and the surrounding Yuan soldiers piled on their attacks as well. For a moment, Hong Chenglue found himself in a very real bind.

Fortunately for him, that was when nearly a hundred Xun Province cavalry finally broke through and reached his position, greatly easing the pressure.

He took the chance to sweep a look across the battlefield.

Good. It’s about time.

Being able to see six directions at once was second nature to any commander. Even locked in fierce combat with He Lingchuan, he had never stopped keeping a mental grip on the overall situation.

He snatched up a fallen spear, vaulted onto a horse, and bolted west without looking back. The Xun Province cavalry around him drove forward at full speed to open a path.

Because they technically were not under Nian Zanli’s direct command, their unit’s origin energy had not been siphoned away. Every man in the group was a hardened elite. Their fighting power was terrifying. They carved open a bloody corridor through the Yuan ranks by brute force alone.

At the same time, Hong Chenglue pulled out a horn and raised it to his lips.

A low, piercing call rose, like the cry of a night owl amplified tenfold. The sound was harsh and razor-sharp. Even soldiers drunk on battle frenzy could not help but turn to look toward the source of the sound.

The Xun Province troops had already started pulling back westward. At the sound of the horn, they broke into an even more desperate run.

Zhao Pan, who had led a contingent in pursuit, realized with a jolt that the enemy battle overseers were not cutting down deserters at all.

They were running even faster than the regular troops, also running toward the west.

The west?

What’s going on?

Horn blast fading, Hong Chenglue sent his voice booming over the din, the words backed by true energy, “General Nian, release the water! Now!”

The shout rolled outward in a tide, echoing over the entire battlefield.

Water?

Wu Shaoyi, who had just reached He Chunhua’s position, suddenly turned to look toward the riverbank behind the main camp.

His scalp went numb.

That stretch of ground sat a full six meters higher than the Yuan encampment.

From behind the rocks there, more than a dozen figures slipped into view, silent as ghosts. At their head stood the man who had not appeared openly once from the very start of this battle, Provincial Governor of Xun Province, Nian Zanli!

He wore nothing more than a standard Yuan soldier’s leather armor, and with his head bowed, he could easily pass in a crowd.

Clearly, he had taken advantage of the chaos to sneak here with his personal guard.

Hearing Hong Chenglue’s shout, he looked down toward the riverbank below, conflict plain on his face.

There were still seven or eight boats on the water, and plenty of Xun Province soldiers on the slope as well, all racing west as fast as their legs would carry them.

On the river and on the shore, there were at least 2,300 men

All of these men were his. He saw them every day. He even recognized many faces, had spoken with them, shared jokes, and issued them orders and praise.

Even for someone as used to killing as Nian Zanli, the thought of what he was about to do twisted his heart.

Hong Chenglue could feel his hesitation and roared again, voice cracking through the storm, “Lord Nian, this opportunity won’t come twice! Fail now, and it’s all lost!”

That single word, “lost,” made Nian Zanli flinch.

Yes, they were already on the southern bank. There was no longer any retreating.

If this desperate gamble failed, he would not just lose this battle but his entire stake.

The thought hardened his eyes. He stopped hesitating and began to murmur the incantation.

By now, Hong Chenglue himself was already fleeing. Wu Shaoyi, heart thudding, had sent men scrambling toward Nian Zanli’s position the moment he saw it.

As for He Lingchuan, when he saw Hong Chenglue blowing the horn as he retreated, he did not hesitate either. He shouted, “After him! Go after Hong Chenglue!”

Whatever trick that bastard was pulling, sticking close to him would be safest.

Shan Youjun immediately led the Xia Province riders in pursuit.

Hong Chenglue spurred his horse up toward the higher ground. A storm of arrows chased after them, dropping a few of his scouts and outriders.

Fu Xin was just behind him on the diagonal. His eyes flashed. He saw his chance at revenge right there in front of him.

But it was as if Hong Chenglue had grown eyes in the back of his head. Suddenly, he jabbed a finger toward Fu Xin. “Fu Xin! Stay and hold the rear!”

Fu Xin froze, then exploded with fury. He could not believe the bastard had beaten him to the punch.

But an order was an order, and disobeying it was not an option.

He had no choice but to slow his horse and begin organizing his men to cover the retreat.

Ten-odd men could not withstand hundreds and thousands. Once the line collapsed, Fu Xin took advantage of an opening and, wounded and cursing, fled along another path.

* * *

On the Yuan side, He Lingchuan dropped his gaze to He Chunhua. There were plenty of soldiers around, but not one dared grab hold of their supreme commander.

He reached down, ready to pry his father’s hand away from his neck to inspect the wound. Before he could touch him, his eyebrows knit together.

There was no blood in the gaps between He Chunhua’s fingers.

He had seen that strike with his own eyes. At the very least, the blade had carved halfway into the neck. That much force should have turned the wound into a fountain.

But right now, there was nothing. There was not even a single drop of blood.

By contrast, a bodyguard not far away clutched his throat and toppled over, mouth bubbling red froth, neck pumping gouts of blood.

Yet on a battlefield where blades and arrows took lives every second, no one paid attention. Everyone’s eyes were on He Chunhua. Even if someone saw the unlucky bodyguard fall, they had simply assumed that he had been cut down by Xun Province troops.

Along the center of the Han River, a pulse of white light surged up from the water, sprouted wings of radiance, and flew into Nian Zanli’s hand.

It looked like a bottle.

He flipped it upside down and made a pouring motion.

Two arrows whistled at him from afar; his guards swatted both out of the air.

The next instant, water came gushing out from the mouth of the bottle.

Nian Zanli already stood higher than the Yuan camp. Now, as he tipped the Verdancy Treasured Vase, all the water it had been swallowing for nearly an hour came crashing back out in a single, furious rush.

If the vase could calm the Han into a sluggish stream while it drank, then while it poured, it could just as easily turn the high ground into the new riverbed.

The deluge thundered out like ten thousand stampeding horses, pouring down along the slope. Nian Zanli’s hands trembled as he held the vase; he had to step back twice, as if the very force of the water might wrench the artifact from his grip.

Wu Shaoyi screamed hoarsely, “Retreat! Fall back west!”

Not that anyone needed his reminder. What living man did not cling to life? The moment they saw a flood erupting on dry land, the Yuan soldiers shouted as one and bolted west, running as if their parents had shortchanged them on legs at birth.

Spotting the onrushing flood, the rock wolf tucked its tail and shot away, outpacing any human several times over.

Even the bodyguards around He Chunhua scattered. Their lord already seemed to be dead, so they would obviously now fight for their own lives. As for the oddity of his condition, in this crush of bodies and terror, who had the time or clarity to notice?

He Lingchuan formed a quick hand seal. The golden-armored copper man shrank down to its puppet size and hopped into his pocket. Then he scooped He Chunhua up, swung onto his bo beast, and tore away from the encampment.

No one saw He Chunhua’s eyelids twitch twice.

The only reason anyone had time to flee at all was that the protective array over the Yuan camp bought them a precious few breaths.

But the array that had not shattered under constant cannon fire trembled like a candle flame in the wind when the flood hit.

That pale-green barrier shook and quivered, then winked out like a soap bubble.

With the array gone, there was nothing left between the flood and the fleeing men.

The water came on strong.

He Lingchuan saw ranks of muddy waves towering up and swallowing the panicked soldiers ahead of him, erasing them with terrifying ease.

Then the flood turned for him.

The crest of the wave, easily over ten meters high, crashed down toward him and his mount.

The bo beast had about fifty meters to go before it reached the safe rocky outcrop. Two, three bounds, and they would have been there.

But right now, it might as well have been the far side of the horizon.

We’re not going to make it.

As He Chunhua was jolted back to consciousness, all he saw was water surging at him from all directions.

He bolted upright with a strangled cry. “What?”

How had he fallen into a river the moment he opened his eyes?

He Lingchuan had already suspected he wasn’t dead. Seeing him wake, he barked, “Father, brace yourself!”

This stubborn father of mine definitely had some way to save his own skin.

He Lingchuan stuffed something into the sash at his waist.

Brace myself?

Even with his back locked in terror at the flood bearing down on them, the words made He Chunhua instinctively puzzled.

The next second, He Lingchuan grabbed him by the shoulders and heaved him toward the jutting rock.

It was as if he were tossing a sandbag.

His strength was monstrous, and he poured all his true energy into it. He Chunhua flew through the air as if riding the clouds, and as he spun, he saw the massive wave smash down, swallowing his eldest son and the horse in one gulp.

And then they were gone.

“Chuan’er!” He Chunhua’s heart nearly split.

That was his son. No matter how complicated things were between them, he had still watched that child grow up, spent thousands of days and nights seeing him in his household.

Just as he was about to slam into the rock, a shrill cry split the air. A bird monster swooped down in a blur, its claws hooking around him and snatching him up.

Dong Rui!

The bastard had vanished after being beaten by He Lingchuan last time. So he had been biding his time, waiting for a moment like this to strike back.

His method was simple. He would just toss He Chunhua back into the flood.

The bird monster spun in midair, preparing to hurl its prisoner back down. But He Chunhua was not stupid. He grabbed one talon with one hand, yanked his sword scabbard free with the other, and smashed it at the creature’s neck.

If he hit it from the right angle, the bird might veer back toward land instead.

Dong Rui, of course, was not about to let that happen. He began to chant a short spell, ready to fling it at him.

But at that exact instant, a figure appeared out of thin air between He Chunhua and the flood, appearing right under the bird’s claws.

The newcomer immediately started falling. Fortunately, he reacted quickly, grabbing onto He Chunhua’s legs with both arms, then reaching further up to catch hold of the bird’s other talon.

His armor dripped water. His face was streaked with mud. Twigs stuck out from his hair.

But that face, He Chunhua knew it as well as his own.

“Chuan’er!”

Joy hit him so hard his head spun.

The giant bird lurched under the sudden extra weight, wings dipping. Dong Rui pitched forward in the saddle, startled, and the half-formed spell on his lips scattered like smoke..