Chapter Sixteen: The Noble Son of Chu, the Great General of Wu

Chapter Sixteen

“Madam Wen, do you know who that cavalry commander is?”

On the upper floor of the tall building, among the five gathered, the young man seated in the center asked this question.

This man was strikingly handsome, standing eight feet tall with long limbs. He wore a teal silk robe typical of wealthy families, a black-sheathed longsword hung at his waist, and his hair was bound by a golden crown. Embedded in the crown was a pearl the size of a dragon’s eye, lending him an even more regal appearance.

Madam Wen was not surprised by the inquiry about the identity of the rider.

To have slain Zhang Tong of the Unyielding Sword with a single strike—so swiftly that no one saw him move—this was no ordinary feat. Even if the man was a top-tier martial artist of the highest innate realm, it would not be surprising.

The martial path of the soldier-warrior differed greatly from common martial arts.

This path emphasized physical strength, requiring practitioners to repeatedly refine their physical conditioning; otherwise, they could not bear the weight of heavy armor. A seventh-grade soldier-warrior master could effortlessly slay fourth-grade true energy experts on the battlefield.

Ordinary martial sects, however, often undervalued physical conditioning, focusing instead on refining internal energy—the process of gathering and harnessing qi—because physical training was grueling and exhausting, whereas refining qi was more elegant and refined.

But excessive muscle development could hinder one’s sensitivity to qi, making it harder to cultivate internal energy. The human body’s potential was not infinite; if all life energy fed the flesh, it left little for storing internal qi. Hence, among accomplished internal energy masters, those with overly bulky muscles were relatively rare.

Moreover, overdeveloping the body could reduce bodily sensitivity, impeding the critical step of entering the innate realm, where one attunes to the forces of heaven and earth.

Yet, while it was extremely difficult for soldier-warriors to reach the innate realm, those who did were truly terrifying.

Take the recent battle, for instance. Zhang Tong of the Unyielding Sword was struck down by a single spear, yet no one saw the weapon move.

Such speed would not be extraordinary for a swordsman; after all, torchlight on the street was dim compared to sunlight, and the distance made it hard to see clearly.

But if the weapon was not a sword but a long spear weighing dozens or even over a hundred pounds, the feat was astonishing.

Who could withstand a strike from such a heavy spear swung at a speed invisible to the naked eye?

“Forgive me, Young Master, it is my failure. I do not know who this person is,” Wen Xian said after some thought, shaking her head.

In this world, the title “Young Master” was not used lightly. Only the sons of kings, marquises, or earls could be addressed as such.

A wealthy merchant’s son like Lu Wu was at best called “Young Lord,” far from deserving the title “Young Master.”

Wen Xian had managed the Hundred Charms Pavilion in Songjing for seven years, specializing in gathering intelligence and forging connections. She had dossiers on most notable figures in Songjing, but there was no record of this individual.

Unlike common martial arts, soldier-warrior techniques often involved mounted combat, which was hard to conceal due to the noise and movement. Moreover, true masters did not emerge from isolation; they honed their skills through duels and life-or-death battles, not by closing themselves off with a secret manual.

Her admission of failure was not unwarranted.

“We must investigate this person’s background immediately. This individual is clearly not affiliated with Young Master Jiu’s faction, nor likely with Young Master Yuan’s. If he can be employed by our great Chu, he could be worth tens of thousands of elite soldiers!”

“I will obey,” Wen Xian promptly bowed.

As they spoke, below on the long street, bowstrings twanged in rapid succession. Two archers rose simultaneously from behind walls on either side.

One wielded a short bow, firing arrows like a sudden rainstorm toward the golden-crowned knight and his black warhorse.

The other held a longbow, the string snapping like thunder as a piercing arrow whistled through the air.

“Young Master, the short bow belongs to Luo Tong, the ‘Wind-Splitting Arrow,’ and the long bow to Luo Bing, the ‘Cloud-Piercing Arrow.’ Both are Young Master Jiu’s personal guards, renowned marksmen,” Wen Xian hurriedly explained.

In a way, it was an attempt to make amends.

Before she finished speaking, the two archers had already flipped backward and taken cover behind the walls.

“What exquisite spear technique—truly divine!” the young man in teal praised.

In that brief instant, the golden-crowned rider’s spear twisted and flipped, scattering the arrows. Yet two long arrows suddenly rebounded unexpectedly from the spear’s shadow, piercing the necks of the two marksmen.

That spear move was not from the “Eighteen Cuts of Overlapping Mountains,” but a form of the “Wishful Heavenly Demon Staff” technique—“Waving Floating Clouds.”

The “Wishful Heavenly Demon Staff,” also known as the “Great Freedom Martial Scripture,” was famed in the previous world as “the progenitor of all arms and the source of myriad martial arts.” Its content was vast and complex, a compilation gathered over generations by countless martial artists. It was at least three to five hundred times more intricate than the “Eighteen Cuts of Overlapping Mountains.”

It was once said that whoever truly mastered the “Wishful Heavenly Demon Staff” could wield all martial arts with ease.

“Young Master, the cavalry commander seems to be heading toward Young Master Yuan’s estate. Shall we intercept him?” asked a man in black behind the young master in teal.

“Why bother? If he manages to rescue Young Master Yuan’s son, all the better. The chaos in the Wu Kingdom benefits our great Chu and harms none. Besides, our teacher Boyang’s strike to eliminate Young Master Yuan has already justified the investment in those two cities,” the young man in teal clapped his hands and laughed.

The succession dispute in the Wu Kingdom had wide-reaching implications, involving factions within Wu as well as Chu and Yue. Even the Chu king’s own son had come to preside over matters in Wu.

But now, with the situation settled, no matter how events unfolded, great Chu stood invincible.

As Lu Wu charged into Chengde District, countless fireworks and firecrackers lit up the night sky, signaling outward and illuminating the darkness as brightly as a festival.

Lu Wu’s rampage through Songjing had already attracted much attention. Now that he had entered Chengde District, he was no longer merely testing the tiger’s patience—he had kicked its flank.

What was Chengde District?

Though the succession battle had ended, if someone stirred trouble here, new complications would surely arise.

At this moment, countless proud warriors and masters from noble families were rushing toward Chengde District.

Within the district, many high-ranking figures under house arrest from Young Master Yuan’s faction, seeing the fireworks above, were eager to seize the chaos and restart the conflict.

The General’s Mansion.

General Luo Gannian was over sixty but still robust, his hair mostly white and beard completely so.

He wore golden armor and sat on a large chair draped with white tiger fur, his imposing figure reminiscent of a crouching tiger. Beside him lay a twelve-foot iron spear on the long table, his eyes half-closed.

“Report: a cavalry commander has slain Zhang Tong of the Unyielding Sword beneath the archway, broken into Chengde District, and is heading this way,” a guard reported as he entered the hall.

“Only one rider? Who is it?” Luo Gannian asked without opening his eyes.

“The scouts do not recognize him,” the guard shook his head.

“Hm, send others to keep watch,” Luo said.

At the four corners of the General’s Mansion were watchtowers from which most of Chengde District could be seen.

“Report: the divine archer Luo brothers were killed at the first street intersection,” another guard entered.

“Report: the cavalry commander has passed the second street intersection; five of the Seven Swords of the Southern River have fallen,” yet another guard came in.

“Men, form ranks and open the gates! Prepare to break the siege!” General Luo suddenly opened his eyes and rose.

As a general, he was intimately familiar with the terrain; Chengde District’s streets were much simpler than a wild battlefield. Hearing the reports, Luo immediately understood the rider’s speed and direction—he was almost here.

Judging by the momentum of the rider’s relentless assault, he would surely break through the encirclement outside the North City Captain Zou Mi’s position if he acted swiftly.

Being blocked at his own doorstep by a younger generation of soldiers filled Luo with indescribable fury. Though the unworthy Keyuan had died, his daughter and grandson remained alive—at least, no news of their deaths had reached him yet.