Sun Fuping did not even bother to answer. Had the Illusionary Barrier been able to hold until the end, he would not have wanted any unexpected complications either.
He Chunhua, however, asked frantically, "What do we do now?"
"Borrowing Law from Heaven and Earth." Sun Fuping had never spoken so fast. "Commandery Governor He, ready your State Token!"
While He Chunhua rummaged for his Yuan coins, Nian Songyu and Zeng Feixiong were already shouting orders in rapid succession, commanding the soldiers to form a circular formation and shield the key figures in the center.
Zeng Feixiong roared, "Hold the line! The resentful souls have almost cleared out—we just need to endure for a dozen more breaths!"
Though spoken to rally morale, his words were not far off. The Gale Army troops charging out of the pool well were indeed dwindling, clearly nearing their end, no longer bearing the earth-shattering momentum they had moments ago.
The crowd could not imagine what other resentful souls could possibly follow the Gale Army as a grand finale.
So this truly ought to be the final wave.
Yet however beautiful one's hopes might be, reality was equally unforgiving. Just as everyone had summoned their courage, the Illusionary Barrier burst with a soft *pop*.
Shattered...
The earthy-yellow light gave two feeble shivers, as though expending every last ounce of its strength, and then vanished.
Everyone's heart clenched, secretly swallowing a gulp of saliva.
He Lingchuan had already raised his voice to warn them, "Nobody move!"
Though the Illusionary Barrier was broken, the Soul-Shielding Powder everyone had taken had not yet worn off. The life flames on their shoulders and foreheads were still burning. Could it be...?
After all, even without the barrier, the earlier resentful souls had not noticed them either.
The group now rushing out of the pool well appeared to be a small squad of the Gale Army—a commander leading a dozen-odd cavalrymen.
They had only flown five zhang when the Illusionary Barrier shattered.
*Gulp.* One sand bandit swallowed involuntarily.
The dozen-odd cavalrymen showed no reaction, but the commander abruptly reined in his mount and turned back, staring straight at them.
With a shrill neigh, the yellow-bay horse reared onto its hind legs, spun around, and faced directly toward them.
The dozen cavalrymen also turned in unison.
Time seemed to freeze. The figures across from them made no move; not even the horses swished their tails.
In this bizarre standoff, the living heard their own heartbeats thumping exceptionally loud.
Nian Songyu squeezed words through gritted teeth: "Don't... any of you... move!"
The next instant, the Gale Army commander clamped his heels into his horse's flanks, and the steed broke into a dead gallop, charging straight toward them!
The dozen-odd cavalrymen followed close behind.
Though mere soul forms, though only a small squad, their thundering hoofbeats evoked the momentum of a mighty host ten thousand strong, sending continuous tremors through the earth.
He Lingchuan distinctly saw the leading commander slightly raise his spear tip, cold light glinting off the point!
"Get out of the way! Move!" he roared. "They see us!" Then, dragging He Chunhua along, he ducked straight behind Sun Fuping.
If the sky fell, the National Preceptor was there to hold it up.
The distance between them had been short to begin with, and bolstered by the speed of their horses, the riders were upon them almost the moment their hooves lifted.
He Lingchuan could even hear the ragged snorts puffing from the horse's nostrils.
So lifelike, so lethal.
Nian Songyu did not even have time to roll his eyes. He threw himself in front of Sun Fuping, his right hand thrusting forward a ribbed shield to block in front of both of them.
His shield angle was cunning. Calculating that the heroic spirit could not easily alter course mid-charge, he angled the shield against the incoming assault, having no intention of meeting it head-on.
Even so, he braced his entire body in a defensive posture.
The shield was fashioned from the shell of a leatherback turtle demon. A hundred and fifty years of cultivated power granted it astounding hardness; the checkered surface of the shield could absorb external force and counteract a portion of divine abilities and mystic attacks.
He Lingchuan was slightly surprised. *Can this thing really block attacks from formless, insubstantial resentful souls?*
As if knowing his thoughts, Sun Fuping touched a finger to Nian Songyu's shield and uttered a low shout: "Mou!"
A spark of green light immediately flashed from the shield.
No sooner had he retracted his finger than the resentful soul commander's spear struck the ribbed shield, producing a heavy, muffled *thud*.
Nian Songyu was shoved back seven paces, only avoiding being sent airborne by digging in with his waist and legs.
National Preceptor Sun remained right behind him, one hand resting on his shoulder as he was pushed back alongside him. Yet the man seemed as light as an empty sack; upon landing, he was not in the least disheveled, even carrying a touch of elegance.
Seizing the opportunity, he extended his hand, and the staff previously planted in the center of the formation flew back into his grip on its own.
As for the He father and son, a breath before spear struck shield, He Lingchuan had dragged his father two steps aside with remarkably swift and precise footwork. They dodged just in time, escaping the fallout entirely.
He deduced that Nian Songyu's turtle shield had been able to withstand the resentful soul's assault only because of National Preceptor Sun's aid. Otherwise, how could pure physical defense block a supernatural attack?
Nian Songyu could not resist glancing at He Lingchuan, thinking to himself that while the kid's cultivation and character were equally abysmal, his survival instincts were shockingly sharp, managing to slip away from danger time and again.
The others, however, were not so fortunate as the He father and son. While the Gale Army commander engaged Nian Songyu, the dozen ghostly riders charged Zeng Feixiong's men.
Without needing to be told, everyone scattered in panic.
Yet how could two legs outrun four? In the span of a mere clash or two, six men had been run through the chest by ghost soldiers.
Though their attackers possessed no physical bodies, the six men clutched their chests and rolled on the ground in agony, two spitting blood on the spot. Clearly, the ghost soldiers' spears did not strike in vain; they could directly wound a person's soul.
They could not dodge, nor could they strike back—what were they supposed to do?
Panic overtook the crowd.
He Lingchuan yelled, "Commandant Nian held off their leader!"
He was stating a fact, and there were plenty of witnesses.
Reminded by his shout, the survivors swarmed right back together.
The dozen-odd cavalrymen wheeled their mounts around, preparing for another charge, only to find the invading group had regrouped—this time not in a circle, but with every soldier falling in behind their leaders.
Their ranks were still a bit ragged.
The leading Gale Army commander glanced at the crowd, then at the wounded writhing on the ground, and surprisingly tilted his head.
The gesture looked remarkably like a human deep in thought.
Situ Han muttered under his breath, "This bastard can actually think?"
He Lingchuan also felt an ominous foreboding. The commander was formidable enough to begin with; if he could actually use his head, he could pull off all kinds of lethal tricks in this assault!
Sure enough, their worst fears came to pass. The Gale Army commander flicked his reins, and the yellow-bay horse surged toward the crowd once more.
Yet as he passed the pool well, the commander pressed his arm down, letting the spear tip dip into the water's surface.
This time, Nian Songyu once again strained to deflect his charge, but the impact left both his arms throbbing with pain and tore open the webbing of his left hand.
To everyone's shock, as the commander rode past the flank of the crowd, the deflected spear tip was retracted, twisted, and thrust out anew!
Swift as a dragonfly skimming water.
The sand bandit standing at the very front had his throat pierced clean through.
Clean, decisive, and executed with effortless mastery.
By the time splatters of blood struck his comrades' faces, the yellow-bay horse had already bounded three zhang away, the sand bandit hoisted high on the eighteen-foot spear. The man was not dead yet, his body twitching uncontrollably. The commander turned his horse with the victim still skewered aloft as blood poured down in streams, soaking the dying man's trousers and dripping onto the sand.
Chapter 43