Chapter 1159 – The Swamp of Blood
Translated by: Hypersheep325
Edited by: Michyrr
The crowd was stunned by the Tang Old Master's exclamation. After some time, they realized that the Old Master truly was incomparably happy, and quickly began to busy themselves.
"Father, please rethink this!"
The Tang First Master was also with the supply convoy. He gripped the Tang Old Master's arm and pleaded for him to rethink his plan.
For such a large supply convoy to make its way through Mount Nuorilang and Starstrewn Gorge overnight was strategically rather risky.
The Tang Old Master was rather displeased by these pleas, and it took some persuasion for him to finally change his mind.
As tears streaked down his face, he gazed at the plains and mountain range before him, and it was like he could already see Xuelao City several thousand li away.
"That's right. I've already waited one thousand years. Why should I be in such a rush today?"
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The longer one waited, the more impatient one was, but if it really had been one thousand years, one had to say that this was more patient than most.
The human armies appeared to be very patient. Not even the sudden retreat of the demon armies or the inexplicable assault of the tens of thousands of tribal warriors had caused the battle lines set up by the human armies to waver. It seemed like the humans also had no intention of attacking Xuelao City.
"When I saw Gao Huan die, I suddenly realized that I would also die, so I have to be a little more cautious."
The Tang Old Master looked at the distant Xuelao City and said, "I must see those walls being broken with my own eyes. I will not permit a single thing to go wrong."
Chen Changsheng replied, "Many people want to personally see such a sight."
The Tang Old Master took a cup of hot tea and nodded in greeting toward Xu Yourong.
If one surveyed the entire world, it was probably only the Tang Old Master that could have the Holy Maiden personally brew him a cup of tea.
Xu Yourong knew that the topic that Chen Changsheng wanted to discuss with the Tang Old Master today was rather inconvenient to listen in on. With a faint smile, she walked out of the tent.
The silence in the tent persisted for so long that the steam rising from the cup of tea gradually faded away.
"Tang Thirty-Six is not sick. He was poisoned."
Chen Changsheng stared into the Tang Old Master's eyes.
"Your Holiness's divine eyes are like torches and will naturally not see wrongly. The effect of that poison is not severe. It will only cause him to have an unrelenting fever."
The Tang Old Master had made no attempts to hide his intentions. He admitted to this fact with extreme indifference, declaring, "The Tang clan requires that he live."
He had admitted to it because Chen Changsheng had already guessed the truth. That it had not been exposed back then meant that it would never be exposed.
The Tang Old Master left the tent, making his way toward that small mountain in the distance.
Xu Yourong returned to the tent.
She had not asked that day, and she would not ask today either, but Chen Changsheng still felt like he should say something, though he didn't know what to say.
"Every person is selfish, especially when they're being selfless."
Xu Yourong used this vague and ambiguous statement to pass judgment on this matter.
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The demons around Xuelao City, probably aware of the fate of the isolated force led by Gao Huan, quickly began to retreat. Under the cover of their accompanying troops, the wolf cavalry broke free of the human black-armored cavalry and returned to the city. A small portion of the two hundred thousand tribal warriors were let into the city, but the majority were abandoned outside.
The chaotic battlefield gradually calmed down, and the human armies did not pursue. The end was already in sight for this sudden final battle. The tribal warriors stood between the tightly shut gate and the grim ranks of the human armies, their eyes filled with helplessness, despair pervading their motley of tents.
The morale of the demon armies was extremely low, but it was said that a cornered animal still had the will to fight. It was perfectly fine for the human armies to wait some more. One could confidently presume that as time passed, the situation would only get better, and these tribal warriors outside the city might even choose to retreat without a fight.
Yet after Divine General He Ming received a report sent by Red Falcon and pondered its details over a meal, he issued an order that the advance would continue. The Central Army would begin to clean up the tribal warriors gathered outside the city while the Eastern Army and Western Army were ordered to converge as quickly as possible.
Many officers and soldiers did not understand this order, but they carried it out with great resolve. This was because Divine General He Ming had gone to Chen Changsheng and Xu Yourong's tent and received their support before issuing this order, and Shang Xingzhou on his small mountain had remained silent.
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Every person would have their own memories, and tens of thousands of people would have tens of thousands of different memories. The memories of one event might be similar in the general outline, but many differences would often manifest in the details. Guan Feibai had always believed that it was in the middle of the ninth month. He was lying in his tent, being treated by a cleric of the Li Palace, when he suddenly heard the blast of the city gate being blown open several dozen li away. Raising the tent flap, he saw that the leaves of a tree on a hillside were so red that they seemed to be seeping blood. But Bai Cai persisted in the belief that it had been early in the ninth month, when the trees growing outside Xuelao City still maintained their last patches of green. The reason the leaves that Guan Feibai had seen were red was that he had killed too many demons and his eyes were red from bloodlust.
One did not need to understand why these differences in memory occurred. In short, one day, as the autumn was setting in, the human armies launched their final and fiercest assault against Xuelao City.
The last Sacred Light crossbow bolts shot into Xuelao City like a torrential rain.
A division of wolf cavalry that was just preparing to set out and receive the tribal warriors had the terrible misfortune of being struck by this rain of arrows, taking grievous casualties.
Like giants, catapults moved to the plains in front of Xuelao City. The demons within the city felt like they were seeing the ancestral spirits of the Gruel clan, and their faces paled.
Giant stones, mixed with gunpowder, flew through the sky, drawing out extremely high arcs before barely managing to thump into the city. Even more stones smashed straight against the walls, inflicting little direct damage. However, the rain of stone shards falling against the ground inflicted mass casualties on the tribal warriors below.
At the height of the battle, two demi-human tribes suddenly launched an attack from the northwest. The demi-human North-Pacifying Army had done nothing but wander around the plains upon leaving Cong Province, but this had turned out to be nothing but a smokescreen. The true demi-human reinforcements had detoured through the grasslands of the Elf race, traversing through the mountain ranges of the west. Under the cover of the Western Army, they silently approached Xuelao City, waiting for the crucial moment to deliver a fatal strike to the demons.
Yet another powerful foe caused the demon armies to finally crumble. More and more tribes began to scatter and flee.
As the setting sun dyed the entire plains red, the Demon Commander, seeing that the situation was extremely dire, sought to sneak into the human camp and kill an important figure like Chen Changsheng to turn the tides, or at least temporarily slow the demons' defeat.
In a swamp to the south of the city, where the mists were so thick that not even wind could scatter them and not even the garish red rays of dusk could pierce through, Wang Po had been waiting for the Demon Commander for many days.
When the Demon Commander borrowed the suicidal assault of several hundred wolf cavalry to hide herself amongst the blood and corpses and sneak into the camp, Wang Po pulled out his blade.
The bright glow of the blade tore open the swamp's thick mists, illuminating the entire world.
Wang Po did not launch a sneak attack. His approach was extremely forthright and open.
The Demon Commander glanced at the camp in front of her, regret appearing in her eyes.
The human armies were currently pushing into Xuelao City, and the main camp had also been moved up several dozen li.
The figures of Chen Changsheng and Xu Yourong were already clearly visible.
"Ah!"
The Demon Commander let out a howl of anger and reluctance.
The corpses of the human and demon soldiers around her began to explode, causing a rain of blood to descend.
Blood flowed on the armor, drenching the green rust and bright jewels, which now exuded an aura of cruelty and madness.
She turned around, took that massive curved blade from her back, and went to meet that bright blade glow.
With a crack, a fissure several li long appeared on the plains. In it were underground springs and melted earth.
The Demon Commander swayed twice but quickly steadied herself.
Her extremely short body looked like that of a giant in everyone else's eyes.
She raised her long blade and charged into the swamp.
The ground quaked, cold winds were sliced to shreds, and the thick mists were cleaved open.
The two most powerful blades in the world clashed once more.
Terrifying blade intents roiled the mists into tornadoes, quickly clearing the air.
The tens of thousands of people on the plains could clearly see what was happening in the swamp.
Though the black soil of the swamp was extremely soft and wet, the two figures moved across it so quickly that they were blurs.
Two blade glows would occasionally shine over the world, casting the black mud into the sky.
Gradually, the truths concealed by the swamp for countless years were exposed. Here were piles of white bones, treasure chests filled with gold, and many secret chambers.
These forgotten remnants of history, these potential stories from the past, were sliced into pieces by these two powerful blades.
In front of absolute strength, everything else lost meaning.
With a thunderous boom, Wang Po's blade clashed directly with the Demon Commander's.
All the water in the swamp was sent into the air and fell back down in a muddy rain. The soft and wet mud was also sent flying, falling back down in a circle with a radius of several dozen li. Both demons and humans were drenched in an unbearable stench.
A furrow, ten-some li long, appeared on the plains.
Wang Po stood at the end of this furrow, half his body buried in the ground.
His face was pale and two trickles of blood were streaming from the corners of his lips. His hand was trembling and another chunk had been hacked out of the blade.
The Demon Commander fared no better. She traced a white line in the sky before slamming into the gates of Xuelao City.
All the demon soldiers on the city walls heard that boom and felt the walls shake.
The Demon Commander vomited blood, slightly clearing up her blood vessels. Just when she wanted to fly back to the top of the city walls, a shadow fell over her face.
This shadow originated from a massive kite.
In the light of the sunset, this kite seemed to be ablaze.
It was an excellent fit with the painting hanging beneath the kite.
Other than the painting of Sangharama Temple ablaze, a person had also been tied to the kite.
The wind blowing against the white paper caused it to flap.
Xiao Zhang leapt toward the city gate, the Frost God Spear in hand, a strange babbling shout on his lips.