Assault

Chen Bitong gazed at Chen Chuan for a moment, then nodded. Without saying much more, his expression turned grave as he gestured toward their surroundings. "Captain Chen, do you see these things?" Chen Chuan looked down. When he had spotted them from a distance earlier, they had struck him as bizarre, and now that he was closer, he realized they were not human at all, but rather some form of bio-engineered organism. They were roughly the size of an ape, completely hairless, and covered in a thick, calloused hide that appeared remarkably tough. Their eyes were narrow, their snouts jutted outward, and their parted jaws revealed sharp fangs meant for tearing. Chen Bitong said, "These things are called 'White Plague.' They're biological weapons frequently deployed by the former imperial house. Wherever their armies go, they bring these creatures along. We ran into them constantly on the front lines. They aren't much of a threat to us, but there are certain aspects you need to watch out for..." Listening to his explanation, Chen Chuan learned that the former imperial house had engineered these bio-creatures to adapt to new forms of warfare. They typically marched alongside large armies, used to probe defensive firing positions, fill trenches, or carry high explosives to blow apart armored vehicles. What made them especially foul was that they harbored a pathogen. If even one slipped into the rear lines, it was enough to trigger a massive, virulent epidemic. Not a single one could be allowed past. Chen Bitong looked outward. "Captain Chen, they're coming up again." Chen Chuan took a few steps forward and looked through the fissure. The bio-engineered creatures were charging out of the mist, converging toward the mountain summit from every direction. Their limbs were agile and strong, carrying them across the mountain path with incredible nimbleness, and the entire ascent was eerily silent. His gaze swept over them. With just a glance, he noticed that more than a dozen of the White Plague had bulging bellies—empty pouches typically stuffed with explosives. Such high explosives could blast through armored vehicles, and taking a blast at close range was no laughing matter. They had to be dealt with in advance, kept from getting close. He immediately reached into his pocket and grabbed several pebbles. Before he could act, however, Chen Bitong suddenly hurled the spear in his hand. It crossed over a hundred meters in an instant, pinning one of the White Plague creatures to the ground. Then, spear after spear flew in rapid succession, intercepting every single explosive-bearing creature midway without exception. Chen Chuan loosened his fingers, drew his saber, and stepped up to the edge of the fissure. By then, several had already rushed to the front, leaping into the air toward the interior. Seeing this, he spun around. A curving arc of brilliance flashed out. Several of the White Plague were severed cleanly in midair, their foul, pungent blood spraying down to leave corrosive marks sizzling across the stone. Yet these engineered creatures possessed no fear. A steady stream continued to surge forward from behind. Their advantages lay in their nimbleness, rapid movement, and sheer numbers. An oversight on a battlefield might allow them to tear open a breach, but against him, they were nowhere near enough. In the blink of a blade's flash, swathes of them were caught in the sweep. Within mere breaths, he had slaughtered the charging wave down to the last. Still, these creatures were treated as mere consumables, and the other side seemed to have no intention of conserving them. One wave followed another, each interspersed with several carrying high explosives. There was no need to worry about those; Chen Bitong eliminated them in advance with thrown spears. Using spiritual power to wipe them out would have been the most convenient method, giving them no chance to draw close at all, but wasting it on such fodder was not worth the cost. Spiritual power recovered slowly once depleted, and they needed to conserve it for the assaults that would follow. Physical stamina, on the other hand, was of secondary concern. With their endurance, maintaining days and nights of high-intensity combat posed no issue. Fumu's reproduction would not last that long either; before long, reinforcements from the rear would arrive and set up an interception perimeter before the fissure. All they had to do was hold off the enemy's offensive during this interval. After a dozen minutes and more than ten waves slaughtered, the creatures finally ceased their charges. The mountain path and the fissure were thick with the acrid stench of blood and foul odors. The swarms of insects and small creatures that had once fluttered through the area were nowhere to be seen. Chen Bitong's expression remained stern and vigilant. He cautioned, "Captain Chen, they were likely trying to gauge our strength just now. Skilled fighters will surely follow shortly. Be prepared." Chen Chuan replied, "Nothing could be better." He harbored no fear of clashing with others. In his eyes, every enemy he faced now was nourishment propelling his spirit upward. In fact, his earlier battle with Chen Bitong had pushed his spirit a full level higher, an elevation far surpassing anything before. He was genuinely looking forward to the formidable foes from the other side, hoping they might help him reach even greater heights. Meanwhile, in the military camp at the base of the mountain, a general clad in exquisite armor topped with a tasseled helm sat astride his horse, gazing upward beside his adjutant as they conferred in low voices. Flanking them were over a dozen commissioned warriors and more than a hundred elite soldiers. Aside from these, there were seven or eight military counselors, while a trusted standard-bearer sat proudly on horseback to one side, holding aloft a grand banner that now served purely ceremonial purposes as it fluttered in the wind. They were discussing how to retake the fissure. Had the high ground ahead not been the optimal point to breach the fissure, they would never have chosen this location, as doing so was simply inviting trouble. And now, trouble had indeed arrived. However, having confirmed that the rift opened directly into Center City, there was no chance they would give up. Though the mist obscured the finer details, the previous charges and repeated probes by the White Plague had allowed them to confirm that only two combatants ahead warranted serious attention. Jibei Circuit Center City was currently mired in turmoil, with continuous reports filtering back to them. In their estimation, the Center City being able to deploy two fighters approaching the level of martial artists to hold this position was already its limit; no further reinforcements were likely in the near term. In other words, eliminating those two would essentially swing wide the doors into Center City. The earlier breaches by vanguard assault squads and commissioned warriors had all failed, proving the enemy possessed formidable strength. This time, the adjutant decided to personally lead the detachment to seize the position. With their plan settled, the adjutant urged his horse forward and waved his hand. Three personal retainers surged past him, charging up the mountain ahead of the rest. A few minutes later, Chen Chuan, standing at the mouth of the fissure, sensed something and looked outward. Through the mist, two figures could vaguely be seen appearing on the mountain path. Neither wore armor, dressed instead in ancient garments of an earlier era: black lower robes beneath tight-sleeved, cross-collared short coats. One wore a red ribbon, while the other wore a jade-inlaid headband, both presenting an exceedingly crisp and capable appearance. On the left was a young woman holding a pair of tasseled sabers, her features delicate and refined. On the right stood a man in his thirties, wielding a silver-plated spear. Yet Chen Chuan sensed that a third person was present, concealed in the shadows and out of sight for the moment. Chen Bitong stepped up, took a look, and said, "That's the attire of a general's personal retainers. Such individuals are usually the descendants of disgraced officials, subjected to brutal and rigorous training from childhood. Only by earning merits can they expiate their crimes, and a great merit can sometimes earn a pardon for their entire clan. Because of that, their will to fight is exceptionally fierce. The appearance of these retainers means our opponent is at least an Auxiliary General. "Though that is the lowest rank among generals, anyone holding the post is a fighter capable of channeling external force through their spirit. Be careful—unlike me, they will hold nothing back when they strike." A question suddenly occurred to Chen Chuan, and he asked, "Teacher Chen, if I remember correctly, most of the former imperial house's territory lies in the Confluence. If 'pure substance' is blocked by the Ring of the World, where do their martial artists come from?" Chen Bitong replied, "They are entangled with the entities on the other side and revere certain things. Not only can they obtain 'pure substance,' but they also bypass the restrictions through specific rituals and methods. "As far as I know, many corporations secretly support the former imperial house to acquire what they need, and even certain nations conduct clandestine exchanges with them to facilitate training their own martial artists, in return for technology and resources. "The fact that the former imperial house hasn't been eradicated to this day, and that overthrown empires across the world can still endure on the other side, is inseparable from the support of these parties. Because there are people who need them to exist." Understanding dawned on Chen Chuan. Just then, the sound of hoofbeats echoed through the mist at the foot of the mountain. By the sound of it, the mount traversed the mountain path as though crossing flat ground, horse and rider moving as one. The pace steadily accelerated, carrying an oppressive aura—though ascending from below, it gave an impression of something utterly unstoppable. Chen Bitong said in a low, grim voice, "He's coming." Before the rider emerged, the two retainers standing ahead narrowed their eyes with fierce resolve and lunged into the fissure, one after the other. The refined young woman charged at the very front, her twin sabers clearing their sheaths with a ringing clash. Upon breaching the fissure and spotting Chen Bitong and Chen Chuan, she shifted her blades, sweeping them toward Chen Chuan at the front. Chen Chuan watched the twin sabers with calm eyes. His hand gripped the hilt of his weapon, but he remained still. Just as the blades were about to strike his body, he suddenly raised his eyes. A brilliant gleam flashed across the space, and the woman was severed in two, body and blades alike. The spearfighter behind had already charged forward by then. Seemingly blind to his comrade's death, he thrust his long spear forward the instant Chen Chuan's blade swung through. Yet Chen Chuan stepped forward with a sideward pivot, drawing back his diagonal slash in one fluid motion. But at the very instant his blade reached the man's neck, a rapier darted out from the nearby shadows, thrusting straight toward his eyes.