Resurrection

Moqi Song led more than a hundred Bailong warriors, rushing toward the docks. If his nephew hadn't left, they could have divided their forces into two: one to seize the Hot Springs Retreat, and the other to take the dock warehouses—calm and composed. Now he only had a little over a hundred men under his command, stretched thin. Moreover, the Mou Kingdom's National Preceptor was at the Hot Springs Retreat, along with a hundred of his elite guards. Best not to provoke them for now. The Yangshan Guard still had more than four hundred men on Suoding Island, and a chaotic battle was likely raging at the docks right now. If he headed to the docks first, he could link up with the hundred-plus clansmen stationed there and eradicate He Lingchuan's remaining forces together. A gentle breeze brushed along Qingyun Road, where the wind-warding barrier remained active. Moqi Song strode forward in high spirits, feeling as though even the night air tasted sweet. Was this the taste of success? He had wagered everything, and at last he had won a decisive victory! The Bailong people had endured humiliation for so long, and their fortunes had finally turned! They had just rounded a steep slope when the roadside bushes suddenly stirred. Running along, Moqi Song caught a glint of cold light from the corner of his eye. An ambush? Experienced in battle, he didn't stop or turn to look, dropping low and lunging forward into a dive. Sure enough, a freezing chill scraped above his scalp as a long saber went spinning by. Had he reacted a fraction slower, his throat would have been slit. "Enemy attack!" The Bailong warriors surged forward, shielding their leader while charging toward the shadows of the trees. Yet before they could take more than a step, the woods on the other side of Qingyun Road rustled violently, and an enormous figure dashed into the middle of the road at astonishing speed. It was none other than a golden-armored bronze guard over ten feet tall, clutching a tree trunk as thick as a water bucket! Long-limbed and taller than any man, yet more agile than a human, it covered thirty feet in a single bound. In just two leaps, it reached Moqi Song and swung the tree trunk at him. Its stance resembled a golf swing, sweeping from low to high. Having ducked to dodge the flying blade, Moqi Song had not yet straightened up when he felt a massive shadow loom over him. Wind roared in his ears, and turning his head, he saw the tree trunk fill his entire vision. A few half-yellow, half-green leaves still clung to its branches! In the rush of the moment, Moqi Song had no time to think. He channeled his gangqi and raised his axes to block. With a resounding crash, he was blasted backward along with his axes, tracing a high arc through the air. Thanks to the bronze general's tremendous strength, he flew higher than the treetops, hurtling toward the woods beside the road. Nothing good would be waiting for him down there. Taking a direct blow from the gold-armored bronze automaton left Moqi Song's arms numb, but while still airborne, he activated "Shadow Follows Form." With a swoosh, he shot behind a large tree below, making an early landing. That martial technique alone consumed a third of his true power. Yet as long as it kept him from falling into an enemy ambush, it was worth it. But the moment his feet touched the ground, a shadow silently appeared behind him. Though Moqi Song did not spot it immediately, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He knew an enemy had closed in. He swung his axe backward in a reverse slash. As if anticipating the strike, his opponent dipped low, twisted his hips, and snapped a roundhouse kick directly into his waist, sending him flying more than twenty feet away. Fast, precise, and ruthless! Moqi Song had clearly seen the kick coming, but his body's reaction was ultimately a beat slower than his mind. He had intentionally donned both inner and outer armor tonight, and during combat, gangqi brimmed across his entire body. The kick landed like a strike against a leather ball; by the time the force transmitted to his body, it was greatly diminished. Even so, Moqi Song's vision went dark, and he nearly choked on his breath. The force behind that kick was vicious and tricky, aimed straight at his kidneys. An ordinary man would have suffered immediate internal bleeding and shock, dying on the spot without prompt treatment. A veteran of countless battlefields, Moqi Song managed to hold his breath and suppress the agony. He rolled over and sprang to his feet, his face flushed deep red. His opponent had already closed the distance. The woods were dim, and the stranger's eyes glinted with a faint, cold sheen in the dark. At this distance, Moqi Song finally got a clear look at his face. The next second, his eyes bulged, and he blurted out in shock: "You! Impossible! You're dead!" Sword-like brows, bright eyes, and a tall, imposing build—it was He Lingchuan! Yet barely seven or eight minutes ago, he had personally severed this man's head with a single blade! There was no mistaking that sensation in his hands. Moqi Song had decapitated countless foes in his life; killing had long become second nature to him. Thus, the moment he saw He Lingchuan, his mind went blank. A bone-chilling cold washed over him, and he froze where he stood. On this night of dreary wind and cold rain, a man he had just killed had suddenly returned to life. The moment Moqi Song saw He Lingchuan's face, he remembered the severed head with its unclosed eyes. The two images overlapped before him, bypassing all reason and instantly giving rise to the deepest terror. Yet his will was formidable after all. After a momentary daze, he suppressed his instincts and quickly realized the truth: "You faked..." This kid had faked his death to trick him—to trick the Beijia people! Before he could finish his sentence, cold light flashed before his eyes. Without a sound, He Lingchuan slashed straight for his neck. Moqi Song raised his axe to parry, only to feel as though he were clashing with the bronze general all over again! What tyrannical strength! In the blink of an eye, the two exchanged more than a dozen blows. This young man appeared unremarkable at first glance, yet his strength was shocking and his combat skills were seasoned and vicious. Moqi Song was at a disadvantage after being caught off guard and unnerved, but his fundamentals were solid, and his defense remained airtight. Parrying over a dozen strikes, Moqi Song was forced back step after step, both arms thoroughly numb, unable to reclaim the initiative. On the final downward cleave, Moqi Song tried his best to redirect the force into the earth, sinking an inch deep into the mud. How could this be some pampered young master of a wealthy family? Island Master He was so fierce and valiant that the lives on his hands were probably no fewer than his own! Only now did he realize that during their earlier fight on Qingyun Road, the man had deliberately left an opening for him. He Lingchuan fought with growing relish. Spotting an opening, he swatted Moqi Song's axe aside, forcing his chest wide open. Then his left fist hooked forward, slamming hard into his opponent's Juque acupoint! This was the hollow between chest and abdomen, unprotected by hard ribs. He Lingchuan's Midnight-Noon true power directly jolted the soft internal organs, sending Moqi Song flying sideways. He sprayed a mouthful of blood in midair and couldn't even get up after crashing down. In a head-on clash, he had actually lost. Suddenly, the ground beneath his feet sagged slightly—the precursor to a divine ability being activated. Moqi Song was sharp. Despite the agonizing pain, he sensed something was wrong and struggled to scramble a few steps away. Then, a colossal creature burst up from beneath the earth, right where he had just been standing! A house. No, a giant spiral shell as large as a wooden house. By the faint light between heaven and earth, he saw a slimy, bizarre creature beneath the shell. Strictly speaking, the creature was carrying the shell on its back. It had two antenna-like eyestalks and a long, snail-like tail, but its limbs were remarkably slender, and its mouth could split all the way back to its ears, resembling a frog. Grotesque and mismatched—even among demons, nothing was pieced together like this. Moqi Song, who had campaigned far and wide and seen every grand spectacle, stood frozen the moment he laid eyes on it. What in the world was this monstrosity?