Over there, Gu Mang and the State Preceptor were still locked in fierce combat. Over here, Murong Lian did not linger either. He took the brocade pouch and withdrew toward where Mo Xi was stationed with his attendants.
The distance from the main city gate to the northern part of the city was not particularly far, but with the battlefield ablaze and Liao cultivators interfering at every turn, Murong Lian’s retreat was anything but smooth.
The cultivators fighting on both sides were all experts. The cultivators brought by the State Preceptor were all the most terrifying death warriors in Liao. Although Murong Lian’s subordinates were also elite, they were still stretched to their limits against these supreme black magic cultivators.
Therefore, by the time Murong Lian reached the Apricot Forest on the outskirts of the city, the barrier protecting him was already damaged, and most of his accompanying guards had been seriously wounded and fallen behind.
He did not dare engage the Liao people head-on again. He could only rely on the winding, complicated terrain of the Apricot Forest to evade the pursuers behind him.
“I’ve long heard that Lord Wangshu is a useless coward. It’s one thing to have no brains, but even your magic techniques are nothing worth mentioning. Truly laughable.”
The leading Liao cultivator was a female cultivator. The weapon she held was a tanned leather whip.
She swept across the branches, her cold, mocking voice carried by her inner power throughout the entire Apricot Forest.
“Murong Lian, you’re already at the end of your road. Where exactly are you planning to run?”
Murong Lian ran as he replied, “Your big brother here just likes riding horses and taking a stroll whenever he’s got nothing to do. What business is it of yours?”
“Stubborn duck. You’re on the verge of death and still running your mouth.”
“I’ve got an even harder place. Want to see it?”
“You—!”
The Liao female cultivator had not expected him to be shameless to such an extent. After freezing for a moment, her pretty face immediately flushed red with anger as she furiously swung her whip down.
“You lecher!”
Murong Lian urged his Golden-Winged Drifting Snow Horse to narrowly dodge it and taunted, “Missed.”
“……”
“You deliberately missed, didn’t you? Is this really okay? Instead of seriously carrying out your State Preceptor’s orders, you’re flirting with me here. To be honest, you’re not really my type. Your face is pretty good, but your waist is too thick, and your chest isn’t big enough either.”
“Murong Lian! I’ll kill you!!!”
Murong Lian rolled his eyes.
“That’s why I don’t like taking women as subordinates. After only a few words, they forget that their actual job is to seize the brocade pouch, not kill people.”
The woman’s face twisted as though she were about to vomit blood.
“I can both kill people and take the brocade pouch!”
“Sure.”
Murong Lian’s expression was so perfunctory that it was practically insulting. He said lightly,
“Good girl. You’re amazing.”
The woman let out an enraged scream and chased after him even more fiercely.
The others from Liao shouted, “Seventh Madam, calm down!!”
Murong Lian’s guards shouted, “My lord, watch out!!”
Seeing the whip strike down like torrential rain, sweeping toward the Drifting Snow Horse Murong Lian was riding, one could hardly breathe.
But because she was too angry, she charged far too recklessly. For Murong Lian, this actually made her attacks easier to evade than before.
Murong Lian did not dare relax. He increased his speed and urged his horse into a full gallop, breaking through the mist-shrouded trees toward the front.
When he burst out of the edge of the apricot forest, he suddenly pulled hard on the reins and shouted:
“Rise!”
The Golden-Winged Drifting Snow Horse suddenly spread its wings in the open terrain.
Wind howled beneath its feathers as it carried its master into the clouds, flying toward the battlefield in the north of the city.
Although the flight was fast, it also turned Liao’s pursuit into a straight-line chase.
Several spells narrowly grazed his body as they flew past, making anyone watching break into a cold sweat.
As the brightly lit northern encampment drew closer and closer before him, the pursuit behind Murong Lian grew increasingly frantic.
Just as he was about to land before the northern army formation, Seventh Madam’s vine whip suddenly wrapped tightly around the Drifting Snow Horse’s hind hoof and yanked hard—
The spirit horse let out a long neigh.
Murong Lian was instantly thrown from the horse’s back, tumbling miserably into the dirt.
“Cough… cough, cough, cough!”
Before he could even get up, the pursuing Liao cultivators had already landed one after another, each with a sharp gleam in their eyes.
Of course, Seventh Madam was the exception.
Besides the sharp gleam in her eyes, hers also burned with murderous fury.
She gritted her teeth.
“Just watch me cut out your tongue!”
Murong Lian was naturally born with a sharp mouth. Even after falling into such a sorry state, he still could not resist sneering:
“What are you going to cut it out for? Hold it in your palm every day and lick it?”
Seventh Madam’s pretty face turned green from disgust.
She was one of the highest-ranking personal guards in the Liao army. Normally, others either respectfully called her “Sister” or addressed her as “Seventh Madam.”
When had she ever endured such verbal humiliation?
At once, she charged forward, intending to chop him into minced meat.
However, at this moment, the two guards accompanying Murong Lian also broke out of the forest.
Seeing their master’s perilous situation, they hurriedly swept forward.
Just as Seventh Madam gathered spiritual energy in her palm and was about to smash it down, they formed a defensive formation and blocked Murong Lian.
“My lord, go!”
“Run!”
Murong Lian coughed as he climbed to his feet.
His combat strength had not once been this poor in the past, but over the past few years, he had spent his days inhaling Fusheng Ruomeng, which had eroded and destroyed his spiritual energy to an extreme degree.
He glanced at the two men, then turned around and tried to carry the Qiankun Pouch back toward the camp.
But after taking only a few steps, a sweet, bloody taste surged up from his lungs.
He bent over and suddenly vomited a mouthful of blood.
His guards were already at the end of their strength. They could not truly stop the enemy; they could only buy Murong Lian time to escape.
But no one had expected Murong Lian’s smoking illness to flare up at precisely this moment.
With a loud bang, the barrier formation suddenly exploded.
The two guards were thrown to the ground, seriously wounded, and the black magic cultivators from Liao attacked Murong Lian once again!
Murong Lian lay on the ground, blood streaking his pale face.
He cursed under his breath and had only just formed half a hand seal with his fingertips, determined to fight with everything he had.
But at that very moment, a blazing red wall of fire descended from the sky and slammed down before the Liao cultivators!
The earth shook with a thunderous roar.
In an instant, clouds and mist gathered.
The wall of fire rolled with fierce winds, hazy orange-gold sparks scattering in all directions.
And standing atop the wall of fire was a man in billowing black robes, facing the wind, his staff planted amid the flames.
“…Lord Xihe…”
Mo Xi stood atop the surging spiritual flames.
The Heaven-Swallowing Staff in his hand gradually gleamed brighter and brighter.
With a single point of the staff, a blazing tongue of fire immediately erupted behind him and transformed into the shape of a colossal Heaven-Swallowing whale, illuminating the nine heavens and the entire universe.
“Before the northern army, none of you will take another step forward.”
Mo Xi looked down coldly from above.
The enormous whale swam and danced behind him.
It had not yet dived toward anyone, but everyone knew just how terrifying a killing move Chonghua’s Lord Xihe’s Heaven-Swallowing was.
Mo Xi said coldly:
“This ends here.”
Before Seventh Madam and the others could answer, a thunderous roar of killing suddenly shook the heavens.
Through the surging wall of fire, they could see densely packed northern army cultivators arriving with their commander—
Ten thousand horses galloping.
In an instant, the situation completely reversed!
Murong Lian turned back and looked at the Chonghua cultivators stretching across the entire horizon.
Then he turned and looked toward Mo Xi’s back.
At last, he let out a breath.
He raised his hand, which trembled slightly because of his smoking illness, and pulled the brocade pouch containing the Blood Demon Beast’s remnant soul from inside his robes.
After coughing several times, he said to Mo Xi, with little willingness,
“…This—he gave it to you. It was your assignment to him.”
With Gu Mang disgraced and condemned, neither Murong Lian nor Mo Xi could directly mention his name before the army formation.
The moment they did, it would inevitably cause an uproar.
But Mo Xi’s expression still visibly changed.
Mo Xi asked:
“Where is he?”
Murong Lian moved his lips, but before he could answer, a sinister, icy voice like that of a ghost suddenly spread throughout the entire night through amplification magic.
“He’s in my hands.”
“Obediently send the brocade pouch you obtained back to me.”
“Otherwise…”
Within that strange voice that circled like a vulture, the man in white and gold robes drifted out of the darkness.
He lightly touched the tips of his feet down and steadily stood atop the crown of the nearest banyan tree.
In his hand, he was still carrying a limp figure who had clearly already passed out—a Chonghua attendant.
Murong Lian’s heart jolted.
Gu Mang?!
Mo Xi’s face turned utterly bloodless.
It was Gu Mang…
Gu Mang, who had used his ultimate killing move to buy time and had already exhausted every last trace of demonic and spiritual energy…
The State Preceptor licked his lips.
He had clearly just endured a fierce battle. Blood stained his clothes, and there was a deep wound across his shoulder.
Yet through the mask, his eyes remained as cold and deep as ever.
It was not that he was unconcerned.
But there was an extremely strange calmness engraved into his very bones, as though he had already experienced storms and upheavals that ordinary people could never imagine.
The State Preceptor smiled sinisterly.
“Otherwise, Lord Xihe, I will make you understand what it means to regret something beyond all hope of remedy.”
Mengze arrived at this moment as well, leading her Chiling Battalion.
She wore a black-and-gold, close-fitting robe embroidered with a python, her jet-black hair tied high atop her head.
Tens of thousands of soldiers followed behind her in a mighty procession.
Seeing the confrontation before her, she was astonished.
“What is going on?”
Mo Xi pressed his lips together and did not answer her.
His gaze had not shifted even half an inch from Gu Mang.
The radiance of the staff in his hand grew increasingly fierce.
Seeing that Mo Xi was about to unleash his killing move, the State Preceptor abruptly lifted Gu Mang.
He conjured a dagger and pressed its blade against Gu Mang’s neck.
Then he smiled sweetly.
“Oh, are you going to attack?”
“Do you want to see whether my knife is faster, or your spell?”
Mo Xi said coldly:
“Let him go!”
“Easy, easy.”
The State Preceptor spoke lazily.
“What use could keeping him in my hands possibly have?”
“All I want is that brocade pouch.”
“You give me the item, and I’ll give you the man.”
“A fair trade.”
“Don’t tell me he’s not worth that price in your eyes?”
The surroundings gradually fell silent.
Commanders and soldiers alike stared soundlessly at the extraordinarily bizarre scene before them.
It was no wonder they were confused.
They had followed Lord Xihe through countless campaigns over the years. Lord Xihe had always gone straight into battle without wasting words.
Yet today’s situation was truly strange.
Whether it was Lord Wangshu, the State Preceptor of Liao, or even their “stepfather,” every one of them seemed to be speaking in riddles.
What brocade pouch?
Who exactly was this captured attendant?
Why could the State Preceptor use a single person to threaten Lord Xihe into giving way?
Gradually, the countless warhorses fell silent.
On the battlefield packed densely with cultivators, the silence became frightening.
Almost every gaze converged on these few people, waiting for Mo Xi’s response.
The State Preceptor pressed the sharp tip of the dagger against Gu Mang’s face and lifted his lowered head.
The mask covering Gu Mang’s face was already stained completely with blood.
The State Preceptor said:
“Lord Xihe, look at his condition.”
“How much longer do you think he can hold on?”
“Hand over the brocade pouch in your possession obediently.”
“Don’t wait until he stops breathing before you regret it beyond all hope.”