Chapter 110: The Most Unruly is the Overlord

Night had fallen. Within the imperial capital, a carriage entered the city gates. The chaos of the capital had only just subsided; corpses still littered the streets, their blood seeping from shrouds wrapped tightly around them. Lü Mudui lifted the curtain slightly with his bamboo staff, his face twitching with deep furrows as he surveyed the infernal scene within the city walls. The coachman's legs had long since turned to jelly from fright. Fortunately, as they passed through the main thoroughfare, the ghastly sights diminished somewhat.

Jiang Li now held military command over the capital, securing the city and bringing erstwhile rebels firmly under his banner. Undeniably, Chancellor Zhao Kuo's years of toil had suddenly become Jiang Li's laurels. Even those ministers who once impeached Jiang Li and the Imperial Advisor now dared not speak, for those who raised their voices had long since perished.

The carriage stopped at a bustling teahouse in the heart of the city, its candles flickering still. A young maid, face pale with alarm, hurried to open the door for Lü Mudui. From above, a beauty with hair pinned elegantly descended the stairs. Catching sight of Lü Mudui, she arched a brow.

"You're back again?"

Lü Mudui toyed with a tortoise shell in his hands and smiled crookedly, revealing a set of worn, gapped teeth.

"Sister Qianqian, might I borrow the Sky Messenger pigeon once more?"

Qianqian's brows knitted fiercely. "What are you scheming this time?"

"Now that the young emperor has crushed the rebels and is still riding the wave of his fury — with Jiang Li controlling the troops — if we spread any more chaotic rumors…"

"The young emperor might just order this teahouse wiped out!"

"You old fool, can you afford that?" she scolded.

Lü Mudui was unbothered, grinning shamelessly to reveal his broken teeth. "Why fear? His Majesty himself has gone to the Northern Luo City. Our Sky Messenger Sect has now joined Bai Yu Jing and pledged allegiance to the Sky Messenger Pavilion there. The young emperor wouldn't dare touch us."

Having powerful backing certainly emboldened him.

Qianqian was momentarily stunned by this revelation. How had the ancient Sky Messenger Sect, with its countless years of legacy, suddenly joined Bai Yu Jing? Lü Mudui knew this news would shake her deeply. He ordered the maid to brew tea, and as they drank, he recounted the tale.

Eventually, Qianqian led Lü Mudui to a secret chamber atop the teahouse. Lü Mudui took out a piece of black-and-yellow paper, hesitated, then pressed a palm to his chest, coughing up some blood. Wiping the crimson from his lips, he muttered, "Next time, I should prepare some pig's blood… coughing blood every time is wearing me down."

With a brush dipped in blood-ink, recalling the words of Lü Dongxuan, he began to write:

"Within the Dragon Realm, dragons roam free; eight dragon sanctuaries cultivate the wind's grace. As spiritual energy awakens and the world transforms, eternal life remains elusive and burdens the soul… Bai Yu Jing, Sky Messenger Pavilion, Lü Mudui, blood letter."

He sighed deeply after finishing.

"Eight dragon sanctuaries?"

Qianqian read the message with horror. "Rumor has it the young emperor quelled the rebellion with the power of the heavenly dragon… could it also be linked to these dragon sanctuaries?"

Lü Mudui nodded slightly. "Remember the Wolong Ridge secret realm? The young master said this next realm would be grander, overflowing with immortal blessings."

He then copied several scrolls, rolled the black-and-yellow paper tightly, and sealed it within the pigeon's message tube. Pulling the cage open, the white dove fluttered out, feathers scattering like snow.

…

At the White Jade Pavilion overlooking North Luo Lake, Lu Fan sat quietly on the terrace before a chessboard, playing the "Mountains and Rivers" game. Opposite him, Lü Dongxuan, adorned with a heavy gold chain, brewed hot tea.

Lu Fan rolled up his sleeves and made a move; the air seemed to ripple with subtle spiritual energy. Lü Dongxuan handed him a cup of crystal-clear tea, its purity like refined crystal.

"Master, taste my humble brew."

"First rinse the water, second the tea, the third and fourth pourings hold the essence…"

Lu Fan's brow rose as he sipped, savoring the flowing aroma.

Lü Dongxuan hesitated, then spoke softly, "Master, I see your keen interest in the Overlord… That day by the lake, the Overlord asked me for a divination. After contemplating the hanging plaque, I discerned an omen for him…"

Lu Fan paused mid-sip, intrigued. "What was the reading?"

"Gravely ill-fated."

Lü Dongxuan touched his gold chain thoughtfully.

Lu Fan nodded with dawning realization. No wonder the Overlord's fury was so extreme. Lü Dongxuan was no ordinary seer — his insights into the hanging plaque's divination were rarely wrong. Yet, perhaps the reading was the Overlord's original fate. Since he sought the Demon Queen, his destiny may have already diverged.

"No wonder…" Lu Fan smiled, a flicker dancing in his eyes as visions of the chaos beyond the ancient city walls emerged—the solitary, proud, and unyielding figure beneath the moonlight.

…

The thunder of hooves shattered the silence. The Overlord, spear in one hand and shield on his back, charged like a bolt of midnight lightning into the Northern Command's camp.

Drums of war thundered as soldiers arranged their ranks, their distant horns piercing the night's stillness. Dantai Xuan, clad in battle armor and a flowing crimson cape, arrived outside the camp atop his war chariot, glimpsing the Overlord's silhouette in the darkness.

"Arrogant!" Dantai Xuan slammed his palm against the chariot.

"You claim to be one man against five thousand; I commend your courage, Overlord."

"But our army numbers fifty thousand, while you face us alone. Xiang Shaoyun, do you truly think yourself immortal?!" His eyes blazed with fury, feeling mocked and disrespected.

"Kill!"

"Whoever brings me Xiang Shaoyun's head shall receive fifty thousand in reward!"

Dantai Xuan flung out his command banner, roaring hoarsely.

Mo Beike and Mo Ju sat cross-legged in the carriage, the night wind tugging at their robes.

"The Overlord's move is inscrutable," Mo Ju murmured, fanning himself thoughtfully. "He's no fool — why would he assault the camp alone against fifty thousand? It's suicide. He barely survived facing five thousand at Wolong Ridge."

He shook his head in perplexity.

Mo Beike remained silent, his weathered face shifting with unreadable emotions. Perhaps the Overlord was issuing him a challenge. Despite the destruction of the Mo family's Sky Messenger City, the Overlord still charged single-handedly into the Northern Command's camp — a deliberate provocation.

Mo Beike's hand clenched beneath his azure robe. The outcome was uncertain.

…

Dantai Xuan's anger flared. His entire force surged forward, swords and spears raised, aiming to crush the Overlord. No matter how strong he was, the Overlord was still mortal—he bled, he grew weary. Fifty thousand soldiers could overwhelm him by sheer numbers. A lone man against fifty thousand — unless a celestial descended — who could withstand such odds? Not even Lu Ping'an of North Luo.

From above, the scene was staggering: a lone rider clashing against a roaring horde, like a solitary drop defying the surging tempest, only to be swallowed instantly.

Yet, a fierce roar echoed. Several Northern soldiers were blasted aside, carving a trench through the ranks. The Overlord's spear flicked and pierced soldier after soldier, blood splattering across his face, yet his resolve only hardened.

Dantai Xuan was no ordinary man; as governor of the North Command, he commanded strategy expertly. With a sweep of his banner, he formed a long snake formation, aiming to grind the Overlord down.

The Overlord abandoned his spear after it broke, drawing a massive axe which he swung wildly, felling dozens. His black steed neighed fiercely as he charged forward, tearing the snake formation apart. The axe's arc, shrouded in demonic aura, showered blood in its wake.

The Overlord's bloodlust surged, fueled by the belief that with sufficient strength, all schemes and plots were but trifles. He began to grasp the meaning behind Lu Fan's words.

What of Dantai Xuan with Mo Beike? What of Yuwen Xiu with Kong Xiu and Jiang Li? The Western Command? With him, Overlord Xiang Shaoyun, alone, it was enough!

A thunderous roar. Black demonic energy coiled around spilled blood, forming an axe-like phantom that swept through, cleaving a dozen soldiers.

The massive army pressed in, dense as a tide, their movements hindered by the relentless Overlord.

Yet he carved a path of blood straight toward the Northern camp.

The pounding hooves splashed crimson. Warriors surged like charging tigers.

Unfazed, the Overlord brandished his shield. A master warrior was flung meters away by a shield strike, collapsing unmoving. The formation shattered.

Enveloped in demonic energy, the Overlord seemed to grasp a fleeting thread of fate, hinting at breaking his bonds.

Blood flowed ever more, yet it was entwined by an overwhelming force surrounding him.

His eyes glowed faintly red, venting rage born of countless battles.

He had become the most unruly of all.