The Final Strike

It was Wulu. Whatever method he had used to mask his presence and slip away, he had already slunk more than a dozen zhang before He Lingchuan flushed him out. Lacking origin power, the gold-armored bronze automaton and the berserk ape had failed to see through his invisibility art. Wulu had exploited that weakness to perfection. What he had not counted on was that He Lingchuan could see him clear as day. Even without releasing it outward, He Lingchuan still carried the origin power of Panlong City within him. Most stealth techniques did not permit rapid movement and shattered the moment their user was attacked—precisely what had just happened to Wulu. Knowing his cover was blown, Wulu sprinted forward without looking back and waved his hand. The giant puppet bear instantly abandoned the gold-armored bronze automaton and lunged toward He Lingchuan, buying its master precious time. The Ya Kingdom guards were charging toward the bottom of the slope as well, closing fast. Just as Wulu seemed poised to slip back under the protection of his guards, a massive figure rose abruptly from behind a roadside boulder. With a faint whistle that cut the air, a red ribbon shot forth from behind the rock, whipping straight toward Wulu. It took less than a tenth of an instant. Moreover, the ambush was laid from an utterly vile angle, tucked deep in the shadow cast by the stone cliff. Who could have spotted it while fleeing at full tilt? Yet Wulu did. The instant his peripheral vision caught the silhouette, he braked violently. Sliding forward at a sharp slant, he exerted power through his hips, legs, and ankles all at once, forcing his forward rush into a sudden spin to the rear. His left boot sank more than an inch into the dirt. The red ribbon whistled through the empty air where he had just been standing. Watching Wulu's reaction from down below, He Lingchuan was almost tempted to applaud. Even if he had been in Wulu's shoes facing an unexpected tongue strike from the snail-toad, he likely could have done no better. And how could Wulu's knowledge of the snail-toad compare to his own? Such split-second reflexes were truly astonishing. Wulu was indeed worthy of his reputation as one of the Ya Kingdom's celebrated generals. He Lingchuan was instantly reminded of Hong Chenglüe. Not one of these commanders who had fought their way up solely on battlefield merits was a pushover. In a flash, the red ribbon snapped back. It had an eerie, dark-red hue and glistened with sticky moisture, looking an awful lot like... a tongue? Instinctively, Wulu followed its path back toward the shadow behind the stone cliff. It was tall and round, coated in soft mud. Half of a long leg extended from the rock's shadow—long, muscular, and speckled with spots. What kind of monstrosity looked like that? That momentary lapse of concentration proved to be his fatal mistake. Before he could get a clear look, a spray of webbing burst from the opposite side of the mountain path. Sparse and consisting of only a few pale gray strands that blended with the ground, it was virtually invisible in the dark. The web shot out as fast as the snail-toad's tongue, snapping taut the instant it caught its prey. Wulu felt a sudden chill around his neck and knew at once something was wrong. Bracing his hand fork against the earth, he refused to let the assailant yank him off balance. Only then did his tremendous strength show—the recoil of the web failed to budge him in the slightest. A glint of cold steel flashed in Wulu's hand as he drew a dagger, slashing behind his head to cut himself free. Rustling arose by the roadside, and another shadow darted forward like lightning. Despite its immense size, its movement was shockingly nimble. Wulu moved to raise his other hand fork to parry, but the creature flicked a few silk strands, somehow bringing him crashing to the ground. The newcomer had eight long legs, and at a speed nearly imperceptible to the naked eye, it pinned him down and ground him back and forth against the dirt. Striding over, He Lingchuan let out a long sigh of relief at the sight. "As expected of Auntie Zhu. Truly magnificent the moment you make a move." The snail-toad and Zhu Daniang had been lying in wait on opposite sides of the path. When Dong Rui saw Wulu sprinting near, he had been unable to resist striking first, only to miss. Fortunately, Zhu Daniang had cast her web in time. She had chosen the exact instant Wulu turned to look at the snail-toad—an impeccably timed strike. A great demon who had fought for thousands of years was certainly no novice. "Hmph." Zhu Daniang's hands never slowed. By the time the Ya Kingdom guards charged down the slope, they were just in time to see her calmly wrap Wulu into a squirming, struggling white cocoon. Enveloped in layer after layer of spiderweb, what good was Wulu's origin power? Barring some supernatural escape ability, there was virtually no chance of breaking free. "General!" Frantic, the Ya guards surged forward. Zhu Daniang stopped them in their tracks with a single sentence: "One step closer and he dies." The barbed tip of her claw rested squarely against Wulu's temple. He Lingchuan stepped forward, clapping his hands to draw their attention. "Someone go tell your army to stand down." The Ya guards looked at one another, then glanced back at Wulu. "Can't hear?" Zhu Daniang jabbed downward. The barb did not pierce his temple, but it carved a long gash across his brow. Blood immediately streamed down Wulu's cheek. He Lingchuan addressed him, "General Wulu, the tide has turned. A wise man submits to circumstance." With blood seeping into his eye, Wulu shook his head vigorously. "Are you from the Yangshan Archipelago?" He Lingchuan was slightly surprised. "You know?" This General Wulu's intelligence was updated remarkably fast. "Bring your Island Master He!" Wulu said coldly. "I will only speak with him." He Lingchuan let out a long "oh," straightened his posture, and lightly pointed both hands at his own chest. "That would be me. The genuine article." *This* was the Master of Yangshan? A flicker of astonishment crossed Wulu's eyes. He looked barely twenty! He Lingchuan smiled. "General Wulu, let us handle the urgent business first, and we can chat properly later. Rest assured, we have no history of slaughtering prisoners." Ever since he took over Yangshan, through every mutiny and battle, he had never turned his blade upon those who surrendered. Yet the brighter He Lingchuan smiled, the more vividly Wulu remembered the young man's earlier backstab. The sensation of cold steel driving through his heart had been agonizingly frigid. Even as a veteran of a hundred battles, it was an experience he had rarely endured. The young man before him only looked youthful; his methods were ruthless and venomous. If he could kill Wulu once, he certainly would not hesitate to strike again. He Lingchuan continued, "If you do not call off your troops, those thousand-odd soldiers who fell into the water will die as well. For every breath you waste hesitating, another man drowns over there." Wulu's brow twitched. Those thousand-plus soldiers had pursued the fleeing ships on his orders, only to be ambushed midway and shaken into the water by the yin hui. Though he had sent men to rescue them, how many could they possibly pull out with water monsters obstructing them? If he did not halt the fighting, not only would he lose his life, but those thousand-plus men would drown along with him. Once he grasped this reality, the choice was no longer so difficult. Exhaling a heavy breath, Wulu turned to his personal guard. "Sound the retreat. Order them to stand down." Had it been some other reckless general of the Ya Kingdom, they might have surrendered their command on the spot and ordered a successor to fight to the death. But in his eyes, defeat was defeat. There was no need to fight until both sides were destroyed. The Master of Yangshan had no reason to insist on killing him and his troops, either. He looked back at He Lingchuan. "Release my men at once!" He Lingchuan was equally straightforward. He promptly signaled the yin hui to fish the Ya Kingdom soldiers out of Storm Bay and bring them ashore, while Zhu Daniang released the guards she had captured. As expected, bringing up those thousand-plus lives had softened Wulu's resolve—he could convince himself that his surrender was not out of cowardice, but to save his soldiers. Dong Rui stepped out from the shadow of the stone cliff. *Why is a human coming out?* Wulu glanced over, noticing the monster in the shadow was nowhere to be seen. Naturally, Dong Rui had already put the snail-toad back into his pack. Zhu Daniang looked at him smugly. "You lost! When we get back, you owe me twenty jars of peach blossom wine!" "Fine, fine," Dong Rui grumbled, vexed. "You just got lucky." The two had wagered that whoever caught Wulu would be treated to peach blossom wine by the other. Zhu Daniang tacked on another condition: "And it has to be aged twenty years!" Always squeezing him for the most expensive option! Dong Rui gave her a look of utter disdain. "You're an ancient great demon. Why didn't you jump out earlier and crush Wulu? Why wait until the very last moment to make your move?" "To ensure a guaranteed strike." Zhu Daniang raised a claw to rub her eye, looking thoroughly composed. "If we relied on you for the final blow, could you have pulled it off?" In truth, origin power simply hurt too much! Fighting head-on against an army was never cost-effective. Just look at the berserk ape, battered and bruised all over. Tsk, still too young. The ape limped over as well. Though it wore heavy bronze armor, Wulu's troops were no pushovers; they had specifically targeted the armor's vulnerable seams, such as the joints, ankles, eyes, and mouth. A deep spear wound sat above the ape's brow, barely missing its eye. An arrow was lodged in its knee, the tip imbued with some bizarre art that turned the blood leaking from the wound black, squirming like living earthworms trying to burrow back in. Dong Rui examined it. "It isn't poison." The berserk ape shrank down into a little monkey, its movements unusually sluggish as it climbed onto a large rock. Dong Rui produced a small vial of red liquid from his robes, containing three or four drops at most. The monkey took it and gulped it down in two swallows, then tapped the vial against its lips to get every last drop. Within a dozen breaths, the wounds on the monkey's body began healing at a visible rate, and even the black fluid in its knee was forced out. Dong Rui scattered a pinch of powder over it, and the foul substance vanished in a wisp of smoke. He let out an "oh." "It was a curse!" He Lingchuan found the vial of red liquid familiar. Thinking back, he remembered. Back when Dong Rui had ambushed He Chunhua and his son, the ape had suffered severe injuries, and Dong Rui had fed it this very red liquid concocted from divine bone. Later, He Lingchuan had obtained some of it, and an experiment by Lingguang had gone awry, causing a major ruckus in Zhao Pan's military camp. So when Dong Rui claimed last time that "it was gone, not a single drop left," he still had divine bone on him after all. He Lingchuan stroked the little monkey's head. "Well done." Dong Rui's demon puppets were different from ordinary beasts; they did not fear origin power the way ordinary demons—or even Zhu Daniang—did, which was why the ape had spearheaded the attack. Even so, across the span of a single cup of tea in close combat, the ape had been battered black and blue, a testament to the formidable prowess of Wulu's elite guard. Without the ape drawing their fire, it would have been near impossible for He Lingchuan alone to capture Wulu cleanly from among two hundred elite guards. A general wielding origin power was truly tough to bring down. He Lingchuan's trio possessed a lineup so luxurious it could comfortably handle someone like True Monarch Musu, yet in ambushing Wulu, they had nearly let him slip away—fortunately, Zhu Daniang had made the clever move in the end.