Chapter 71 – The Overlord Descends into Madness for Yi

Beiluo City.

Lu Changkong stood upon the battlements, clad in obsidian armor, a blade at his hip, his posture upright and resolute like a spear thrust toward the heavens. Beside him, Luo Yue stood with solemn expression, eyes narrowed as he gazed at the far horizon of the plains beyond the city.

"Old Luo, you're worried about Chengzi, aren't you?" Lu Changkong turned his head slightly, casting a glance at Luo Yue.

Luo Yue's weathered face remained stern. "He fought his way up from a mere foot soldier. I trust he knows what he's doing."

"Besides, to die for Beiluo—it would be his honor," Luo Yue replied.

"With the emergence of the Immortal Fate, forces from all corners converge: disciples of a hundred schools, governors of each province… Even His Majesty and the Grand Preceptor from the capital have dispatched their agents. This is a storm that will engulf the entirety of the Great Zhou," Lu Changkong said slowly.

"My lord, with everyone scrambling for the Immortal Fate, shouldn't that lessen the pressure on Great Zhou?" Luo Yue voiced his doubt.

As countless factions pursued the Immortal Fate, wouldn't the weight upon Great Zhou lift?

Lu Changkong's gaze pierced the horizon, fathomless and cold."You think the appearance of the Immortal Fate will ease the tension across the land?""You're mistaken..."

"The Immortal Fate is a volatile variable that may upheave the world's balance. It nurtures cultivators, and once their numbers swell, the nature of warfare changes entirely."

"In the beginning, the effect may be subtle, but the longer the conflict drags on, the more the tide of war will favor the faction that breeds the most cultivators," Lu Changkong explained, voice low and calm.

In the distance, cavalry thundered across the plains, stirring up towering clouds of dust.

Yet he did not stop speaking, continuing with quiet certainty:"No faction will lay down arms for peace. Thus, the only path forward is to swiftly decide the fate of Great Zhou—be it its demise or the crushing of rebellion. Only then can the victor turn to seize control over the world of cultivators."

Luo Yue listened, half-understanding."But wars don't end so easily. The imperial capital is guarded by six great city protectors. Even the allied forces might not breach the walls with ease."

"In my humble opinion, this war will last another five or six years," Luo Yue said.

"Five or six years?" Lu Changkong chuckled."Some would never allow it."

"Behind the Great Zhou stands the Confucian School. Yet the Mohist School, ever opposed to Confucianism, has already planted its disciples across every provincial power. Only by toppling the Zhou dynasty and founding a new order can they implement their doctrines."

"In truth, everything now lies within the grasp of the Mohists. Their great net spans the realm, consuming Great Zhou bit by bit... but the sudden appearance of the Immortal Fate is like a spark of open flame. If they are careless, their web shall be reduced to ash, and all their schemes to dust," Lu Changkong said, shaking his head.

His eyes followed the galloping horsemen in the distance as he added,"Since the fall of the first Grandmaster of Mohism, each new generation has fallen short of the last. Their original ideals have been devoured by ambition—they are no longer what they once were."

...

The carriage rocked gently.

Xiang Shaoyun sat within, guarded by a detachment of troops, preparing to withdraw to the Western Province. Inside, Luo Mingsang, clad in a pale white gown, knelt beside him with a delicate handkerchief, tending to his wounds.

In the Immortal Palace, Xiang Shaoyun wore the heaviest armor and endured the fiercest blows.

Now the carriage was quiet. He closed his eyes and indulged in Luo Mingsang's gentle care, while his mind delved into the cultivation methods he had obtained from the Immortal Palace.

Suddenly—

A warhorse neighed violently.

Xiang Shaoyun's eyes shot open like piercing arrows ready to rend the sky. With a swift motion, he pressed his large palm on Luo Mingsang's soft shoulder.

"Stay in the carriage," he said firmly.

Worry clouded Luo Mingsang's exquisite face. She opened her mouth to speak but said nothing.

"Mere scoundrels. What does an Overlord fear?" Xiang Shaoyun smiled, full of confidence, then stepped out of the carriage.

The driver was dead—pinned to the door by an arrow.

Beyond the ridge, soldiers swarmed the hills, with seasoned generals burning with killing intent. Xiang Shaoyun scanned the scene—roughly five to six thousand enemies.

After a volley of arrows, his Western Province cavalry had been reduced to fewer than a hundred.

A hundred against five thousand.

And among the enemy, grandmasters and elite martial experts stood poised.

"Governor!" a general cried out, eyes bloodshot."We've walked right into a trap! These are the troops of Liu He, Governor of Pingyang!""We'll cover you, Governor—break through!"

The warriors of the Western Province were fearless and unyielding, yet even they could feel despair.

In the distance, banners fluttered.Amidst the martial entourage, Liu He stood in silver armor, gazing at Xiang Shaoyun.

"So it's true... The Overlord was gravely wounded during the fight for the Immortal Fate. What a rare chance to eliminate him."

Liu He chuckled softly, raising a command flag.

Suddenly, soldiers throughout the ridge lifted their spears and nocked arrows.

"How did you know I was wounded? I changed my return route. How did you learn of it?" Xiang Shaoyun asked, glaring at Liu He.

"In the netherworld, someone will surely tell you," Liu He laughed, then swept his banner down.

"Kill!"

"A bounty of ten thousand silver taels for the Overlord's head!"

Shouts of battle shook the heavens.Arrows whistled.Blood and spiritual might roared as grandmasters erupted into combat.Birds scattered from the mountains like leaves in a storm.

Xiang Shaoyun's towering figure suddenly appeared desolate. He closed his eyes slowly.He had long guessed this moment would come.

"Uncle… from this day forth, the Xiang Clan shall sever all ties with the Mohists."

His eyes snapped open, sharp as blades.Grasping the halberd on his back, he swept it in one powerful arc—splitting the oncoming arrows in mid-air.

"Where are my warriors of the Western Province?!"

"Who dares follow me into battle?!"

Xiang Shaoyun roared, his hair flying wildly, murderous intent blazing in his eyes.Behind him, a hundred soldiers and generals responded with primal howls, weapons raised high, surging forth like a tidal wave.

A hundred against five thousand.

They fought without fear, undaunted even in death.

Xiang Shaoyun charged like a beast.The soldiers surged toward him, attempting to bury his figure beneath the tide.

His halberd swept through them like a hurricane—shattering spears, flinging soldiers like broken dolls.A dozen enemies fell before him.

Grandmasters and elite warriors from Liu He's ranks surged forward to encircle him.

The setting sun poured blood-red light across the battlefield.

Blood spattered meters high.Corpses littered the ground.

On a hillside, Liu He's face darkened as he shouted "Kill!" again and again until his voice grew hoarse.

Beside him, his strategist tried to console him.

"No matter how strong Xiang Shaoyun is, he's still just a mortal. Even a grandmaster cannot stand against thousands. Today, the Overlord will drown in blood."

Around Xiang Shaoyun's carriage, corpses piled like a mound.The carriage itself was stained scarlet.

Xiang Shaoyun wielded his halberd like a god of war.None could approach.

He panted heavily—only human after all. His arms felt like lead.

Yet the enemies kept coming, wave after wave, unending.

The Western Province cavalry was annihilated. Even the horses were slain.

A few first- and second-rate warriors lay pierced by spears, kneeling before death, eyes full of fervor and regret as they looked to Xiang Shaoyun.

His gaze burned crimson.He once believed himself to be the pinnacle of martial arts—a genius, a born commander.

But now, in this hopeless slaughter, he resented his own weakness and powerlessness.

If only he were stronger—strong like an immortal.

Xiang Shaoyun growled.Spiritual energy surged from his qi core.His halberd spun at high speed, erupting blood in fountains.

The shockwave from his spirit energy blasted open space around him.

But he had only five wisps of energy.After slaying hundreds, his core was spent.

Inside the carriage, Luo Mingsang lifted the curtain.With a slender sword in hand and her long skirt billowing, she soared out with light steps and stood before Xiang Shaoyun.

Moments later, her gown was soaked in blood.

"Shaoyun..." she leaned against him.

Xiang Shaoyun looked at her blood-drenched form.The fearless Overlord was suddenly filled with dread.

He feared the woman before him would fall cold and lifeless.He feared her smile and voice would vanish like a fading firework.

With a roar, he swung his halberd, frantically recalling the "Vast Righteous Spirit Art"he obtained from the Immortal Palace.

He had to recover his spiritual energy.He had to protect what he held dear.

"Faster! I need spiritual energy!" Xiang Shaoyun's eyes were bloodshot.With a swing, he cleaved down another enemy.

He gasped like a dragon, his voice hoarse with desperation.

He channeled the cultivation technique madly…