Fighting Back to Back

In Zone D of Medical Station 101, five buildings formed a right angle. Drawing an arc close to the crook of the right angle and another arc further out defined the two current battlefields. On the closer battlefield, the fifty-some survivors from the original hundred—those whose wounds were not too severe and who could still fight—had fallen back across the entire line, organizing into a defensive formation. Layered in distinct tiers, the formation spread out like a fan, withstanding the assault of over a hundred subordinates from the seven clans. On one hand, they fought to preserve themselves; on the other, they grimly defended the entrance to the safe room behind them, as well as the throngs of defenseless medical staff and the grievously wounded who could no longer fight. They could hold. First, this was due to Azure's tactical formations; focusing purely on defense left few openings. Second, the balance of power on this battlefield had in fact undergone a complete reversal: Previously, Azure's primary combat power had mostly been concentrated in the main battle array, pinned down by Tian Hetai and the others, leaving the large group of ordinary fighters to struggle bitterly. Now, the situation was reversed. Almost all the seven clans' core experts were temporarily held in check by Han Qingyu and Wu Xu, while Azure's main combat strength—including Major Wang Zhanpo and his comrades—had been completely freed up to join the general battlefield. The defense was temporarily solid. Behind the battle line, doctors and nurses were administering emergency splinting to Ran Qiuling's left leg. Sister Ran bore the agony, watching the front with anxious eyes, never once lowering the blade in her hand. Wen Jifei got to his feet, gripping his saber as he took several strides forward, intending to join the defensive line. But as his source energy surged, a mouthful of blood sprayed from his lips with a wet cough. His issue right now was that the source energy surge he could trigger was no longer weak in the slightest. However, because his Dice aptitude was constantly rolling different faces, the riverbed he provided for channeling that source energy surge kept shifting in width... It was like the mighty waters of the Yangtze suddenly pouring into a tiny creek—with nowhere to flow, it battered wildly in all directions, and his own body would give out first. No one could truly understand the helplessness and anguish of a Dice... He clearly possessed the potential to unleash a Grade A strike; even a Grade B or Grade C blow would be fine. Yet unable to control it at will, he had never been able to fight alongside them. Time and again before battle, he had fled in disarray; crisis after crisis, he had stood by watching helplessly. Wen Jifei himself never spoke of these things. He merely listened intently at their side every day, watched Qingzi and the others sparring with utmost focus, and then went back to practice secretly on his own—coughing up blood again and again, sinking into despair again and again, only to be unable to resist trying once more a couple of days later... He only wanted to fight side by side with them, to swing his blade at his teammates' side. His steps faltered... Wen Jifei lowered his head, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, and retreated to the rear. Not only was he unable to fight alongside Qingzi and Wu Xu, but even stepping into the defensive formation meant risking becoming a liability at any moment. "Um... Wu Xu is very formidable too, right?" Behind him, the doctors and nurses assumed he was exhausted from that strike, so they did not question why he stepped back. Most of them were now watching the distant battlefield with rapt attention. "Very formidable," Wen Jifei replied with a smile, looking up at them. "When Qingzi isn't going crazy, the two of them are about even. Qingzi even said himself that Wu Xu might be slightly stronger. But Qingzi can go crazy." To be honest, the doctors and nurses didn't quite grasp what he meant... But hearing that Wu Xu was formidable as well brought a few measures of relief and comfort amid their worry. "What about you? You're very formidable too, aren't you?" someone asked again. Without looking at whoever had spoken, Wen Jifei chuckled and said, "Me? Ah... mostly I'm in charge of training their... psychological fortitude." With that, he gave a wry smile, burying his emotions deep inside. Looking up, Wen Jifei turned his gaze toward that distant battlefield. Although he had sounded utterly confident in Qingzi while comforting Ran Qiuling earlier and hadn't wavered in his speech just now, inside, Wen Jifei was intensely uneasy. Because judging from what he had seen and heard of the opponents' strength, this battle was very likely far more perilous and difficult than the clash in the Nepal canyon a few months ago. "Fortunately, Qingzi has Wu Xu at his side now, and their strength has grown a lot since then." "It's just a shame Rusty Sister isn't here, or else... Sigh." He worried silently to himself. Like Wen Jifei, everyone in the rear, as well as Major Wang Zhanpo and the soldiers holding the defensive line, were focused above all on the distant battlefield. Every single one of them knew that under the current circumstances, the outcome of that clash was decisive. If Han Qingyu and Wu Xu were slaughtered in the encirclement... once the enemy's core experts were freed up to join this side, the exhausted defenders here would have no strength left to resist. The reverse was equally true. If Han Qingyu and Wu Xu eliminated the seven clans' core experts and were freed up to join the fight here, the subordinates of the seven clans would likely scatter in defeat without even needing to be fought. Two against eight. The seven clans' side was not composed entirely of clan heads, nor was it one expert from each clan. Their strength was not balanced; due to bloodline inheritance, some families had few descendants, and their clan heads could be comparatively weaker. Among them, Tian Hetai was undoubtedly at the level of top combat power; after all, he clearly hadn't exerted his full strength yet earlier. Behind him were two other experts whose strength surpassed the rest: He Zengsheng and Gong Xing. The remaining five were likely far from weak either; Wang Zhanpo had crossed blades with two of them just now and knew he had no confidence in defeating them. On paper, victory seemed impossible. But that man was Han Qingyu. And today, there was someone by his side to fight back to back. ...(To preserve the continuity of combat, the timelines of the two battlefields do not follow sequentially, but are narrated separately.)... To keep as many surviving Azure soldiers and non-combatants alive as possible, Han Qingyu had deliberately drawn hostility and displayed his prowess, aiming to pin down all the enemy's core experts. Just as he desired. Perhaps Tian Hetai grew anxious at their sudden appearance, realizing Azure might already know about the situation here... or perhaps it was the instinctive cowardice and self-preservation typical of old hounds... Furthermore, he seemed reluctant to unleash his full power, as though doing so would extract a terrible toll... In short, without even considering a duel, Tian Hetai had immediately rallied the experts from every clan to besiege Han Qingyu. Yet in reality, Han Qingyu could not afford to get trapped in an all-out encirclement. He still had to look for an opportunity to break through one or two of them first. At this moment, along the arc tracing the distant battlefield, He Zengsheng was near the left flank, temporarily isolated, and Han Qingyu was lunging straight for him. The remaining core experts of the seven clans closed in hot on his heels. Yet they were intercepted. Wu Xu and his spear, Binggu, appeared behind Han Qingyu. After knocking aside Tian Hetai's single saber, Wu Xu stood firm, back turned toward Han Qingyu's direction. Leveling his spear horizontally with his right hand like a boulder resisting the surging river... he intended to hold back all seven men alone! This was a silent, wordless understanding between them. He needed to buy time for Han Qingyu to execute one person first, taking out a major pillar of their combat strength. He Zengsheng was powerful—Wu Xu knew this. Killing him would bring immense advantages, whether in terms of morale or the upcoming battle... Moreover, most of these people cherished their lives above all else—something no one understood better than Wu Xu right now. "By this day I swear, once I kill you two, I will slaughter half of those behind you on the spot!" Tian Hetai uttered a final threat. Yet it was utterly meaningless. Among Azure's ranks, no one paid him any mind. Han Qingyu had no time to look back, but without looking, he understood the situation clearly... A swift victory—he needed to finish this quickly! With all three turbines roaring at full burst, the saber in his right hand tore through the air accompanied by crackling lightning. Han Qingyu held his other saber in his left hand, drawn back horizontally. Leaning slightly forward, his running trajectory shifted continuously, trailing a fluid blur of light like a phantom. An explosive sprint. The air quivered as he surged forward like a tempest, closing in to slay He Zengsheng. His mouth twitching, He Zengsheng felt a pang of trepidation... He had taken the initiative to strike, yet the counter-charging momentum of the right-hand saber Han Qingyu hurled had instantly forced him to halt and assume a defensive stance, waiting for reinforcements. But... With a single glance, he saw that his reinforcements were momentarily blocked. Snapping his eyes back, He Zengsheng glanced at the eerie stream of light hurtling toward him, then at the crackling blue storm of lightning in midair, carving an arc with constantly shifting trajectories. The blade would arrive first. Having made his judgment, He Zengsheng gripped his spear with both hands and gave it a forceful shake, gathering momentum. He prepared to knock down the warblade first and then sweep wide to repel the enemy. Spear against blade: the golden rule was never to let the opponent close the distance. But he was wrong. What arrived first was the man. Han Qingyu stormed in like a gale, arriving before the drifting arc of the Rusty Sister Dimple Slash. With a sharp hiss, the blade in his left hand split the air, slicing straight toward He Zengsheng's left waist and abdomen. Clang! In a frantic scramble, He Zengsheng held his spear vertically with hands spaced apart, blocking the blow. The strike parried, Han Qingyu did not pause. He had already slipped behind him, pivoting to slash again—a top-down cleave. Just as He Zengsheng started to turn to defend— Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch! The trailing lightning warblade had already spun right before his face. In terror, He Zengsheng chose to arch forward into a dive. He avoided the spinning, electric warblade in front... Rrrp! A gash tore across his back. Fortunately, the cut was not deep. Groaning in pain, He Zengsheng simultaneously swept his spear wide, trying to clear space around himself. But behind him... Han Qingyu's left-hand blade had already left his grip. At point-blank range, the Rusty Sister Dimple Slash traced an even wider arc, whirling toward He Zengsheng. At the same time, his right hand caught the first warblade as its momentum died, and he lunged forward once more. There was no breathing room whatsoever. Still stuck on the defensive, spear in hand, He Zengsheng didn't even have a chance to thrust outward. All he could do was block, block, and block. He had only one feeling right now: utter stifling frustration. In this entire clash, he had no opening to burst forth, fighting with complete and humiliating agony. In just a few seconds, the flow of battle was set. Han Qingyu maintained a continuous rhythm of keeping one blade in hand while hurling the other in a spinning kill-strike, strangling him in close combat! "Qingzi's side is in the bag," Wen Jifei declared, clenching his fist. "Hm?" Ran Qiuling's exclamation wasn't doubt, but filled with hopeful anticipation. "Wu Xu uses a spear, and Qingzi spars with him the most. Every time he fights him like this, even a quiet, honest kid like Wu Xu can't help muttering, 'Qingzi, fighting like this is cheating.'" The same tactic was useless against Rusty Sister, who could shrug off several slashes with her armor, but against a polearm, it was ideal—and practiced to perfection... Thus, why had he targeted He Zengsheng first? Aside from position and timing, it was because Han Qingyu was completely confident. But Wu Xu... In those mere few seconds, he truly was besieged. In front of him, a greatsword swept horizontally. Behind him, a long saber cleaved downward. In a predicament strikingly similar to He Zengsheng's, perched on a razor's edge... Wu Xu did not turn. Arching his waist like a bow, he bent backward, flipping his spear rearward to thrust at the man behind him, forcing him back, while simultaneously springing horizontal to parry the cleaving blade in front. Then, bracing the spear tip against the ground, Wu Xu flipped sideways through the air and landed. Another weapon swept inward. Wu Xu drew the broadsword from his back to clash against it. Boom! His opponent didn't budge an inch, while Wu Xu was thrown backward, blood surging into his chest—pfft... The four-sided long mace in Tian Hetai's hands seemed to carry the weight of a thousand tons. Gritting his teeth, Wu Xu swallowed the fresh blood rising in his throat. Expressionless, he sheathed the sword and leveled his spear... still blocking the way. He did not yield. "You..." Holding a black iron staff, Gong Xing stared closely at Wu Xu, pondering for a moment. "Wait, aren't you a dog raised by the Yu clan?! Heh, you dare stand before us?!" Wu Xu glanced at him without a word. "What, found a new master and don't want to admit it now?!" "..." Wu Xu suddenly remembered something Han Qingyu had said back at the He family estate. He very much wanted to say those words right now... Opening his mouth, his voice held no inflection: "You're dead." He thoroughly disliked Gong Xing's second remark. The black spear's point dropped, plowing through the dirt and stone as it shot forward at blistering speed toward Gong Xing... Wu Xu, who had previously aimed only to block the way, seized the initiative to attack for the very first time. In that instant, no one reacted in time. Gong Xing used a staff. Wu Xu used a spear. A month for the staff, a year for the saber, a lifetime for the spear. Though Wu Xu was still young, ever since his childhood when he received Binggu—a spear no one in the Yu clan had wanted to touch due to its ominous name—man and weapon had been bound together by life and soul, companions day and night. From a child who couldn't lift it and suffered aching shoulders from carrying it, to brandishing it like lightning, a dragon leaping forth with every thrust—Wu Xu wielded the spear... The spear, over two meters long, lunged like lightning. Staff in hand, Gong Xing was driven back step after step. Suddenly, Wu Xu dropped his wrist. The spearhead rose and drove upward at an angle, thrusting straight toward his throat. Though the iron staff was in hand, Gong Xing could not bring it up to block in time; all he could do was leap into the air. Only now did he realize there was an actual gap in strength between him and Wu Xu. Under such a disparity— Leaping into the air meant he would usually never touch the ground alive again. In all likelihood, it was death! Fortunately, he had allies. From Wu Xu's first strike to forcing Gong Xing into a desperate leap, only a few seconds had elapsed. Within those seconds, several sabers and swords were already slicing toward Wu Xu from the flank and rear. Holding his spear upright with both hands, Wu Xu spun to parry—clang, clang, clang, clang! He knocked aside the weapons around him, but Tian Hetai's long mace tore a deep furrow across his shoulder. Blood gushed violently, rendering one arm half-useless. Yet Gong Xing discovered that the spear tip had snapped back around, still aimed dead at his throat. Mid-air, Gong Xing jammed his long iron staff heavily against the ground, preparing to flip backward and disengage. Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh... It was close—so close that he caught the faint rushing sound. What was that?! Gong Xing glanced behind him. To his horror, a spinning Azure warblade was right there, cutting off his backward retreat. This—he was finished! He whipped his head back. Squelch. The long spear had already impaled his throat. Gong Xing died! Before He Zengsheng. They had all forgotten that Wu Xu had help too—no, a teammate, a brother fighting back to back with him. None of them had expected that while pouring everything into hunting down He Zengsheng, Han Qingyu still had the leeway to fling a blade in support—and not a single person had seen that throw coming. "You see..." Wu Xu withdrew his spear, watching the corpse fall. He seemed to want to say: See, I told you you were dead, and now you are. My words count just like Qingzi's, and you are not allowed to call Qingzi my new master... But that sentence was too long. In the end, he simply said, "Never mind. I'm busy." Still devoid of expression, still devoid of emotion, but spoken with total sincerity. So what was He Zengsheng doing?! Bursting with rage, the remaining men of the seven clans looked up. Instantly, their eyes froze in shock. Over there, a deafening boom echoed as source energy erupted... Then, with a whoosh, He Zengsheng's own spear hurtled into the air, impaling his body with it. "Pay with your life for our Azure reserve station and for the brothers who fell today." Muttering softly under his breath, the man standing on the ground turned away without another glance and walked over. Behind him— Boom! Soaring through midair, the spear slammed into the wall, pinning He Zengsheng's entire body to the corner wall of the sixth floor—the very top of the central building in the courtyard. Hanging there. "You all right?" "I'm fine." With the tip of his spear, Wu Xu flicked the fallen Azure warblade off the ground and whipped it backward. Han Qingyu reached out and caught it.