"You..." Moqi Song was about to curse him when the grass knot pinned to his lapel snapped in two and dropped to the ground.
Seeing this, the Bailong man beside him immediately warned, "The target is on the move!"
This grass knot had a melodious name: the thousandfold knot.
It was very easy to refine, produced in pairs. Within ten li of each other, snapping one knot would cause the other to instantly snap in two with a sharp crack.
The function of such knots was simple: confirmation and signaling.
Bailong scouts lying in ambush near the front gate of the Hot Springs Retreat had snapped their knot the moment they saw He Lingchuan set out, relaying the message to the main force.
The moment Moqi Song saw the knot snap, he knew He Lingchuan would soon pass through their ambush zone!
The Hot Springs Retreat was merely three and a half li from here; at a galloping pace, they would arrive in the blink of an eye.
Now, the dilemma and pressure fell squarely on Moqi Song:
Should they attack?
If they did, could they take down He Lingchuan?
If they didn't, would there ever be another chance as good as this?
Sensing his hesitation, Wang Xiang said at once, "You haven't been exposed, but the Bailong at the docks have! If you don't make a move, your clansmen at the docks are doomed!"
Those words instantly jolted Moqi Song awake.
Even though the Emperor's Flowing Dew had not descended, the docks were already thrown into chaos and engulfed in fighting. If He Lingchuan reached the docks unimpeded and took command, the hundred Bailong fighting isolated there would likely be quelled in short order.
When that happened, the Bailong tribe's plans for tonight would fail just the same.
Even if he, Moqi Song, lay here without budging an inch, he would still have to face the fate of failure!
The spark that set off the powder keg at the docks had incinerated his every path of retreat.
Moqi Song gritted his teeth and slashed his arm through the air. "We do it! Strike the moment the target arrives!"
Beside him, Wang Xiang drew a deep breath. Caring nothing about exposing himself, he channeled a spell to transmit the situation here.
Just as everyone settled into their ambush positions, the sound of hoofbeats came from the west.
Urgent, but not many by the sound of it.
The Bailong scout Moqi Song had stationed at the bend ahead pulled out a mirror and flashed a signal their way.
The mirror flashed only once—meaning the enemy numbered under thirty!
The retainers of the high Mou Kingdom official truly hadn't escorted He Lingchuan toward the docks. Moqi Song was overjoyed. The enemy was outnumbered by more than five to one. With five against one, they surely had the upper hand!
Fortune had finally turned in their favor—it hadn't been easy!
*Move forward!* He signaled to everyone. The Bailong warriors crept forward in quiet, measured steps, drawing right up beside Qingyun Road.
They had entered the range of the wind-shielding barrier, where every move required extreme caution.
At this hour, Qingyun Road was deathly quiet, devoid of bystanders.
Barely had they concealed themselves when the enemy arrived.
The dozen-odd riders galloped at full tilt, about to sweep past the ambush spot in a flash. Moqi Song could clearly see that there were about sixteen or seventeen riders: two guards in front, an anxious He Lingchuan and Qiu Hu in the middle, and the rest closely trailing behind, whipping their mounts hard toward the docks.
Right target, right location, and the timing... well, close enough.
What are we waiting for? Charge!
As the leading pair of riders drew near, Bailong men on both sides of the road yanked the trip ropes taut.
The ropes snapped rigid right before the horses' hooves.
The front riders had no time to react. The horses stumbled and tumbled violently head over heels, throwing their riders as the beasts whinnied in pain.
Seeing this, the riders behind hauled sharply on their reins, wrenching their mounts up on hind legs to stumble back a few paces.
"Enemy ambush!"
No sooner had the shout gone up than arrows flew like locusts from the dark undergrowth, aimed straight at the riders' heads and faces.
He Lingchuan and his men had no choice but to raise shields to protect themselves.
Yet he received the bulk of the barrage; his mount was struck by four arrows in an instant, collapsing to the ground after a couple of futile struggles.
Under the covering hail of arrows, dozens of Bailong warriors leapt from the tall grass, howling as they charged with raised sabers and axes.
Though there were only a hundred-odd men, they charged with the ferocity of seven or eight hundred.
Leading from the front, Moqi Song leapt clear across three zhang from the roadside straight into the middle of the thoroughfare without even a running start.
Plummeting in midair like an iron weight, he crashed down toward He Lingchuan directly beneath him, his great axe already raised in a downward cleave aimed straight for the skull!
The momentum was staggering.
Having gathered power in the shadows for so long, this strike was like a tiger pouncing on a deer—ferocious, imposing, and delivered with peak vigor and focus.
Before the axe even arrived, a gale of gangqi blasted downward, threatening to crush anything below flat against the ground.
Unwilling to take the brunt of the attack head-on, He Lingchuan slapped the saddle and leapt aside to dodge.
Yet the moment his feet touched the ground, Moqi Song's great axe slammed into the paving.
With a resounding boom, the bluestone roadway cracked like a spiderweb. Centered on the axe, shockwaves rode waves of displaced air, blasting in all directions.
Within ten zhang, the ground shuddered violently three times in succession like seismic aftershocks, sending raindrops hopping from the stones and shattering into fine mist.
This sort of tremor was the worst thing for mounts; the dozen-odd horses bolted in terror, scattering wildly as the riders struggled in vain to rein them in.
Qiu Hu had intended to pull He Lingchuan onto his horse, but his mount shied back in fright, costing him precious moments.
Recognizing his assailant, He Lingchuan shouted in furious rebuke, "Ungrateful wretches! When you were backed into a corner, I took you in out of kindness, and this is how you Bailong repay me?"
Qiu Hu bellowed, "Lord, get away!"
Everyone knew Qiu Hu was a fierce warrior, so the instant fighting broke out, a dozen Bailong fighters swarmed him relentlessly, refusing to give an inch even when wounded. For the moment, he was thoroughly pinned down.
The other Yangshan guards were in the same predicament.
A five-to-one or six-to-one numerical advantage, launched from an ambush, was nothing to scoff at.
Moqi Song seized this opening and hurled a hand axe straight at He Lingchuan.
Just then, the third tremor hit. With his footing unsteady and his torso tilted, a flash of cold light gleamed before He Lingchuan's eyes—
The flying axe was upon him.
Sucking in his belly and tilting his head, he jerked back by a hair's breadth, the blade nearly shaving the tip of his nose.
It missed by a mere fraction of an inch.
Then it whirled away toward a large tree.
Yet He Lingchuan relaxed too soon. The moment the flying axe left his hand, Moqi Song flipped forward and executed Shadow Follows Form, sticking right to He Lingchuan's back.
This was a combat technique passed down through generations of the Bailong tribe; it could bridge three zhang of distance, instantly flashing straight behind an enemy's completely unguarded blind spot.
Though it consumed a massive amount of true power and could only be performed once in a short span, its results were extraordinary.
At that exact moment, the axe swung around in its arc, and Island Master He happened to have his neck tilted back.
Everything aligned with terrifying perfection.
Moqi Song snatched the returning weapon from the air and swept it back across his target's throat.
Island Master He was certain to be wearing protective armor; hacking at his body wouldn't be fatal. Only the neck was bare—a single slit would end him cleanly.
Furthermore, Moqi Song's precious axe was forged specifically to pierce protective astral qi. Pouring every ounce of his strength into this slash, even if a rhinoceros stood before him, Moqi Song could split it in two.
A once-in-a-millennium opportunity, a strike to decide the world!
Cold light flashed, followed by a shower of blood—and a fine head went flying high into the air!
Chapter 984