This flaw did not vanish in an instant; instead, it inexplicably lingered for a split second. Wang Chong's sword darted through the web of spear shadows, piercing through the iron helmet's left eye slit—the sole flaw in the armor of the Yaglakar chieftain.
This veteran frontier expert violently jerked his head back, averting a mortal blow and keeping his skull from being impaled, yet he still let out a shrill howl as his form unraveled, involuntarily laying bare an opening.
Wang Chong sheathed his sword, snatched the spear, kicked the man off his horse, seized the mount, and without pausing to deliver a finishing blow, wheeled around the Yaglakar chieftain's peerless steed and charged headlong toward the two thousand steppe cavalrymen.
Once two thousand cavalry gathered momentum, they would shake the earth like a landslide, utterly unstoppable. But right now, the Yaglakar riders had not built up a charge, robbing the cavalry of their terrifying power. Horse beneath him and spear in hand, Wang Chong plunged into the ranks of the bewildered horsemen; with moves like rolling thunder and flashing lightning, he unhorsed over a dozen men in the blink of an eye.
Standing atop the walls of Pengshan County, Monk Xuan Gang murmured, "Yaglakar Yehu isn't there!"
Yu Zao had been sick with worry for her young master; hearing this, she could not help asking, "How do you know, Master?"
Monk Xuan Gang patiently explained, "That man is a veteran of the Innate Realm, only a hair away from becoming a master. As superb as Wang Chong's martial arts are, he could never slay that invincible commander so easily. The one leading the troops must be one of his sons—that is why Wang Chong crushed him in a single move."
Yu Zao's fox-like eyes suddenly flashed with brilliant, rippling light. The little maid trembled with excitement, knowing this was an opportunity of a lifetime. Slender as a one-in-ten-thousand chance though it was, it was Wang Chong's only hope of survival. Channeling the wondrous harmonic martial arts passed down by the Ten-Thousand-Year Fox House, she cried out in a clear voice:
"The enemy chieftain is slain!"
"Yaglakar Yehu has been beheaded!"
"Everyone, quick! Claim your merit!"
"My young master has long set bounties: one hundred guan in cash for every Yaglakar cavalryman! Five heads earns an entry-level official rank, and ten heads or more grants entry into the Yulin Army!"
As a bandit who had once rampaged across multiple provinces, how could the great monk Xuan Gang fail to see that the little maid Yu Zao was spouting utter nonsense? How could any of these promises possibly be hers to make? Wang Chong possessed a modest fortune, but at one hundred guan a head, he could afford several dozen at most—anything beyond that would bankrupt him. As for official rank or entry into the Yulin Army, even the Prince of Yan might not dare make such wild promises! Just as he opened his mouth to talk some sense into her, Wang Dong, that rashly courageous little book attendant, had already leaped down from the wall and dashed straight toward his master. Helpless and exasperated, Xuan Gang had no choice but to charge out of Pengshan County after him, intent on stopping Wang Dong and bringing the little book attendant back.
He did not dare charge the enemy ranks alone; no matter how high one's martial arts, without armor or a mount, one could never withstand thousands of soldiers. But moving freely across the battle lines to drag back a single book attendant? In that, the dignified Sheyang Tiger had absolute confidence.
Her mind racing, Yu Zao pinched her lips and produced a rapid succession of men's voices—gruff, honest, impassioned, strange shrieks, and battle cries: "The master's book attendant and Master Xuan Gang are already leading the charge! This battle's just free heads for the taking! I'm going to slaughter ten of them..." Then, slipping behind several figures, she unleashed her skirt-concealed kicks, silently kicking over a dozen men off the battlements.
Many of the young kinsmen sent by constables from all over possessed martial skills, and being accustomed to lawlessness, daring souls abounded among them. Seeing Wang Chong charge alone and "slay" the enemy general, followed by Wang Dong and Monk Xuan Gang genuinely leading the charge, unable to tell that all those bellows came from Yu Zao, and noticing none of the men plummeting from the walls had been kicked off, the rabble Wang Chong had scraped together swarmed out like a nest of frenzied hornets, howling as they charged into battle.
Looking back, Xuan Gang saw Yu Zao leading Tie Mingzhu and Nan Xinlan in leaping off the wall as well, and hesitated. After all, he had promised to escort the three maids away. He sighed inwardly: *On a battlefield, I can't look after so many people. I'll fight for a bit and grab one or two at random—that will be enough to square myself with Wang Chong.* He had no illusions that this motley rabble could match the Yaglakar cavalry in open battle.
Driven purely by raw grit, Wang Chong thought that if he could cut a path through, the steppe riders would pursue him relentlessly to avenge their commander. If he drew them away, the innocent folk of Pengshan County would be saved. He thrusted with his spear, slashed with his sword, and hacked his way forward, but the enemy seemed endless—utterly unlike an ordinary martial duel. For every man he skewered, several more surged forward. None of his exquisite techniques could be brought to bear; all that remained was raw strength, speed, sharp vision, and rapid judgment. Every move had to be as simple as possible, leaving not the slightest opening to waste on feints.
This troop of Yaglakar cavalry fought like madmen, heedless of life and limb, shouting as they battled furiously. Having had their commanding general slain right before their battle line, they would all face severe punishment upon their return. They would receive no rewards from this expedition into the Central Plains, and many would even be demoted to slavery, despised on the grasslands forever after. Every single one of them burned to kill Wang Chong to salvage a shred of their honor.
When Wang Chong struck down the Yaglakar cavalry commander moments ago, the move he had used was Severing the Astral River!
This move was the swiftest and fiercest of all, adhering to the principle of "if the strike fails, soar a thousand li away." It was a surprise attack, consuming far less true qi than Sword Fueling the Mountains and Seas or Sword Illumines the Great Wilderness, which was why he had been able to keep fighting after felling the commander. Yet even with its relatively low consumption, it still drained true qi at a furious rate. He had lost track of how many he had slain when, slashing his sword down, his breath of true qi suddenly faltered. He failed to cut down the Yaglakar rider, inflicting only a slight wound. Ferocious and daring, the steppe horseman ignored the fact that he had just skirted the edge of death; letting out a roaring shout, he thrust his spear straight forward in a desperate bid to drag Wang Chong down with him.
Wang Chong drew a deep breath, but neither the Innate Pure Yang Art nor the Nine-Headed Dragon King Aspect could muster any more true qi. A wave of exhaustion washed over him, turning his entire body limp, and he barely dodged the spear by a hair's breadth.
At that moment, the thought crossing his mind was not that he was about to die, but a twinge of regret that he had failed to lure this notoriously savage steppe cavalry away; he feared the folk of Pengshan County would still meet a cruel demise.
In that instant, the Sutra of Mahasthamaprapta Buddha Enlightening the Sea Dragon King to Attain Heavenly Dragon Fruition taught to him by Kong Chan suddenly surfaced in his mind. Endless scriptures flowed gently through his sea of consciousness as Buddhist chants reverberated between heaven and earth. His mind drifted in a trance, as if plunged into a sea of thousands of troops and horses, surrounded on all sides by foes: mighty generals who were a match for ten thousand, man-eating grand demons, all manner of ominous omens, red-haired old monsters, and giant floating eyeballs, each brandishing sabers, spears, axes, and halberds—the very weapons, arms, and dharma treasures found only in myths—surging toward him to shake the heavens and earth.
Wang Chong felt utterly alone. Behind him stood a battered, dilapidated small town, filled with countless women, children, impoverished elders, wounded soldiers, and starving folk, all shivering in terror, awaiting the cataclysm that was about to crash down upon them. A passage of scripture rose from the depths of his heart:
"He who delivers innocent folk from the blades of war—I am a Great Bodhisattva."
"Though I slay tens of millions, if it is solely to save lives—I am a Great Bodhisattva."
"Though I commit utmost ferocity and evil, hands soaked in blood, haunted by wronged souls, clung to by ten thousand sins, if it is solely to save lives and protect the common people, not out of cruelty—I am a Great Bodhisattva!"
Within Wang Chong's sea of consciousness, a Great Bodhisattva astride a six-tusked white elephant, with four heads and eight arms bearing eight kinds of weapons and shrouded in blazing flames, manifested gracefully!
The Army-Breaking Bodhisattva Aspect of the Gods and Buddhas Aspects from the Thirty-Two Aspects Spirit-Transformation Cultivation Fundamental Classic was formed in an instant!
Mortal! Bodhisattva! Divided by merely a single thought!
This was the very essence of the Buddhist teachings.
...Kong Chan: My disciple! That's my disciple!...
...Yaglakar Yehu: Two of my sons have died at that little beast's hands...
...Yu Zao: Just tell me, isn't he awesome?...
Chapter 64