Hmm, the green-robed leader of the small gang had not managed to seize the Yaglakar princess's head; Qin Gao had taken that head instead.
Qin Gao was different from Qin Han. Although both were surnamed Qin and belonged to the same family, Qin Gao came from a distant branch whose household had long since declined. He had wanted to strive for achievement and establish merit, but unfortunately the family could not support him. Despite his considerable skills, neither his reputation nor his official rank could compare with Qin Han's. After rising to Tongzhou Sima, he could rise no further, and many years had slipped away in vain.
Otherwise, he would not have taken the initiative to pledge allegiance to Wang Chong.
Earlier, he had not quite believed the rumors. He had thought Wang Chong was merely making a pretense of yielding, and that the merit would still belong to this Prince of Yan. It was only after Lu Zongfeng seized Achile's head and carried it off in delight that he finally believed it: Wang Chong truly did not covet his subordinates' merit, and truly was willing to share his own credit. Why would Qin Gao stand on ceremony any longer?
He was not afraid of the Yaglakar clan at all. If they truly broke in, whether there was a grudge or not, he would die on the battlefield anyway—why should he care about so much?
Once the head of Princess Bilge was presented, it would be an extraordinary achievement he could claim; promotion would be just around the corner.
Wang Chong did not care who took Princess Bilge's head. He had promised to make up for one, but since the other party did not want it, it was no longer his concern.
When this force charged to the south gate, twenty or thirty people had already surged out. The eighteen grassland tribes were like a forest of feudal states, none subordinate to another. These masters from the various tribes of the great grassland were all arrogant and intractable; they did not even buy into authority within their own tribes, let alone obey orders from masters of other tribes. Therefore, once the prearranged target fell into disorder, these people acted each on his own.
Seeing these people come in batches, Wang Chong was pleased. He blocked the south gate and began to slaughter.
Ever since Wang Chong first began making his name, those he had encountered were Qian Luo Yi, Wen Ducheng, Tie Mole, Nalihai, Wuzhumuqin, Basar, and even Yaglakar Yehu, Lichiluo of the Afugan clan, and the likes of the Bone Demon. Qian Luo Yi was the foremost of the Thirty-Six Divine Generals; Wen Ducheng was fourth among them; and Tie Mole was ranked seventh as well. Although Nalihai, Wuzhumuqin, and Basar were not on the ranking, their strength was no less. Not to mention an old Innate-realm master like Yehu.
These were already the strongest group of grassland warriors to have infiltrated the Central Plains this time. The rest were all of Achile's sort, or even inferior to Achile. Achile might not have been stronger than Qin Han and the others, and ordinary grassland warriors were far inferior.
Wang Chong had blocked the gate and killed three waves of grassland warriors when he suddenly sensed a crisis. He hurriedly drew the Panlong Sword and flicked it upward. A cold aura pressed in on the blade, and his heart turned cold. He knew Yaglakar Yehu had arrived.
Yaglakar Yehu had led more than a hundred warriors of the eighteen grassland tribes and came surging out of the south gate. He had been deceived by Qin Han and had gone to the north gate. When he realized something was wrong and found no Wang Chong there, he had hurried back, delayed somewhat on the road.
Holding his long spear in one hand, he saw that Wang Chong and the Central Plains warriors beside him, both men and horses, were hung with human heads. He could not help feeling a chill, and shouted, "Little thief of the Prince of Yan, no matter how many schemes you have, in the end you cannot escape death."
As soon as Yaglakar Yehu appeared, the Central Plains warriors around Wang Chong stirred. The fearsome name of "Fragrance Marshal" resounded across the land, especially after he set fire to Shengshan Temple and burned seven thousand women and children of Shangdu to death—the smell of roasting flesh drifted thirty li away—no one did not fear his cruelty.
Wang Chong did not dare let this invincible commander from beyond the frontier continue to unleash his pressure. He roared, "I wondered who it was! So it is Yaglakar Sick Cat, who ran away like a rat at a single exchange!"
He waved his hand, ordering Qin Gao to hold Princess Bilge's head high, and shouted, "Your two sons and one daughter have all died by my hand. In no more than a few days, your entire Yaglakar clan will be wiped out!"
At the sight of his own daughter's head, Yaglakar Yehu's fury knew no bounds. He charged out alone on horseback, thrusting his spear straight ahead, giving rise to a boundlessly tragic and murderous aura.
Wang Chong had not expected that a single sentence would enrage this invincible commander of the great grassland into coming to challenge him personally. He thought, "Victory or defeat rests on this one move."
If he could kill Yaglakar Yehu, the other grassland warriors would not be worth fearing. If he were defeated, then everything would be over!
This time, Wang Chong did not use any Buddhist martial arts. He brandished his horse lance and charged straight forward. The two horses crossed, and they exchanged one blow. Wang Chong's shoulder was bloodied, and Yaglakar Yehu had been gashed in the left ribs. Both remained silent, as if they had no wounds at all, and wheeled their horses around to fight another exchange.
They had already fought twice; this was the third exchange. Knowing each other's depths, both held nothing back in this life-and-death fight, bringing out all their lifelong skills. On the seventh crossing of their horses, Wang Chong's body swayed as if he could not hold on. Without a thought, Yaglakar Yehu reversed his spear and flicked it upward.
Wang Chong had used feigned retreats several times before, then counterattacked with his signature moves. But such tricks were almost useless in the eyes of a veteran Innate-realm master like Yaglakar Yehu. This time his sway was not a feint; his true qi circulation had suddenly jammed for a moment.
Wang Chong grasped the horse lance with both hands and hurled it with all his might. Then he used lightness skill to follow closely behind it, drew his long sword, and used the Innate Pure Yang Art to drive Holding-Candle Swordplay.
This time he used the most powerful move of Holding-Candle Swordplay, named: Sword Cry to the Azure Firmament!
The long sword tore through the air with a cry that could be heard for ten li. Specks of firelight flickered on its edge, as if illuminating the Gate of Heaven.
Yaglakar Yehu gave a cold snort, flicked the horse lance away with his spear, and fully activated the Ice Soul Divine Art secretly passed down in his clan. Frost and cold gathered on his long spear, turning into a white mist of cold air, and without hesitation he met Wang Chong head-on.
The seven divine swords of Wudang and the clan-secret Ice Soul Divine Art of the Yaglakar—both men, in the snap of a finger, pushed their entire cultivation to the utmost. Vast sword light and a sky full of white-frost spear shadows—in a single instant, no one knew how many times they had clashed head-on.
The grassland warriors of the eighteen tribes watching, and the Central Plains martial artists Wang Chong had hastily gathered, were all stunned by the sight. Masters of the Innate Realm were as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns. For example, those young gentlemen of the Chrysanthemum-Killing Alliance were all young masters renowned in their regions and truly skilled, yet not one of them had reached the Innate Realm. Similarly, among the Thirty-Six Divine Generals of the eighteen grassland tribes, there were actually very few Innate-realm masters; even Wen Ducheng, ranked fourth, was not Innate.
Not to mention that the two now fighting as if forgetting life and death had both reached the peak of the Innate Realm. Yaglakar Yehu's fierce might was renowned; the title of "Fragrance Marshal" had been forged from the blood and flesh of countless burned women and children. Although Wang Chong had been on the scene for only a short time, he had risen like a meteor. In consecutive fierce battles, each time he killed a great enemy, his fame shot up a level, until outside Pengshan County, relying on a rabble and hastily assembled troops, he had forcibly defeated two thousand Yaglakar cavalry. His fame and reputation had already reached the extreme, chasing after the most famous fierce general of the current dynasty.
This was not a fierce general like Qin Han, who still had the prefix 'of the younger generation.' This was genuine prestige that shook the grassland.
As they watched this head-on clash, everyone held their breath, afraid that any slightly larger noise might disturb the two fighters and cause their own side's commander to slip.
Chapter 78