Chapter 775: Forbidden Spell

Everyone beneath Heaven knew that Great Chu's Grand General revered the military methods of Great Yan's Prince Jingnan to an almost absurd degree.

He liked sitting on thresholds while talking to the generals beneath him.

He liked exerting absolute control over every aspect of his army.

And there was another thing.

Years ago, when the Yan borrowed passage through Qian to enter South Gate Pass and attack Jin, Tian Wujing had personally walked that route years before the war began.

More than once.

Before Zheng Fan's first campaign onto the snowfields against the Savages, he had followed Old Tian in person through the Tianduan Mountains as well.

A commander had to understand the terrain.

Absolute control over an army and a campaign could only be built on absolute familiarity.

As Liang Cheng once put it, if you castrated the autonomy of the generals beneath you and tried to control everything personally, the demands placed upon the commander became enormous. If a man lacked the talent for the position, it could easily devolve into the sort of thing later generations mocked as "Generalissimo Chiang's micromanagement."

So... there was a very real possibility that Nian Yao had come personally.

He had appeared here with only four guards beside him.

It was strange.

Unexpected.

But then again, the so-called "Blood Fan Li" of Marquis Pingxi Residence, a man who normally stood beside Marquis Pingxi himself, had somehow become bored enough to dig up a grave in the middle of these desolate mountains... for no other reason than to drink wine.

Perhaps that was simply how things worked in this world.

Storytellers in teahouses and taverns had to obey certain rules when making up stories, or customers who felt their intelligence had been insulted might smash their heads open.

No one could smash Heaven's head open.

So reality was free to be as absurd as it pleased.

Nian Yao was not Tian Wujing.

In circumstances like these... he was far, far inferior to Tian Wujing.

Tian Wujing had once defeated the Sword Saint.

Nian Yao obviously could not do that.

He had been born a slave of Prince Regent Residence. His status had been low, but his treatment certainly had not been poor. He had trained in martial arts from childhood and was accomplished in both civil and military learning.

The Regent of Great Chu was not the sort of ruler who appointed men purely from favoritism.

Ability mattered.

Nian Yao's rough appearance and unruly style were partly a persona crafted by a "slave" sitting in high office, a way to dull the vigilance of Chu's noble clans during those earlier years.

Very few people knew that Nian Yao was skilled in calligraphy and fond of literature as well.

But unlike Marquis Zheng... he had never possessed some enormous backer behind him, allowing him to sit around writing poems whenever he had nothing better to do.

When all was said and done...

Marquis Zheng's beginning had been difficult.

The road afterward had been difficult too.

But politically, during those first years, he had always enjoyed the support of Prince Jingnan and Little Sixth.

In Grand General Nian's eyes...

Marquis Pingxi had practically grown up soaking in a jar of honey.

Still, no one had ever claimed Grand General Nian could shoulder the Nine Tripods by himself or that his martial strength stood unrivaled beneath Heaven.

There were things Old Tian could do... because only Old Tian could do them.

Marquis Zheng certainly would not dare.

The one time he had grown careless, out on the frozen Wang River... he had nearly died right there.

When it came to personal fortune, Marquis Zheng had always been remarkably modest.

He had never considered himself some chosen son of destiny.

When the enemy's stone thrower could launch a shot from far away in the rain and somehow have the damned thing chase him down as it fell... reality had already warned him more than once.

Marquis Zheng accepted good advice readily.

A gentleman did not stand beneath a dangerous wall.

Nian Yao, clearly... was far worse than Marquis Zheng in this regard.

Or perhaps... he simply possessed more confidence.

And likewise...

A'Ming, Marquis Pingxi Residence's "Blood Fan Li," possessed plenty of confidence too.

Of the seven Demon Kings, three had already advanced.

A'Ming.

Siniang.

And the Demon Child.

A Fifth Grade Demon King... did not possess merely Fifth Grade strength.

More importantly...

Kashir was right here.

His blood bag.

His mana bar.

Right beside him.

The feeling of security arrived all at once.

Add Nian Yao standing in front of him... and the whole scene was even more intoxicating than Peach Blossom Brew.

A'Ming was a lazy man.

Among the Demon Kings, the Blind Man spent every day plotting rebellion.

Liang Cheng trained troops.

Siniang managed finances.

Xue San trained spies and improved the foundries.

Fan Li handled construction.

Even the Demon Child stayed busy raising children.

A'Ming usually wandered around the workshops now and then... then disappeared into the wine cellar for ten days or half a month at a stretch.

The long and exquisite lives of the Blood Clan could never produce fanatical strivers.

They taught only one thing: how to enjoy decadence.

But no matter how one looked at it...

Great Chu's Grand General stood right in front of him.

A decapitation opportunity had practically delivered itself to his doorstep.

There was no chance A'Ming would pretend not to see it.

Capture Nian Yao alive... or kill him.

Either result would cause the Chu army on the front line to collapse by nearly half.

"Interesting."

Nian Yao took two steps backward.

His four guards moved in front of him.

"War is about to begin, and Marquis Pingxi's men are still digging graves. Is this all the vision your Residence possesses?"

Guo Dong had already climbed to his feet.

Pi Si and the others drew their sabers and spread out into formation.

Barring an accident... they were probably no match for Nian Yao's four guards.

But with A'Ming present, they could still contribute.

"What are you babbling about?"

A'Ming shook his head contemptuously.

Then raised one hand and pointed at Kashir.

Without hesitation, Kashir came over and climbed onto A'Ming's back.

The posture was not especially elegant.

A handsome vampire carrying an old man piggyback.

A pity A'Ming had not brought the "Saint Cloth Box" Xue San once made especially for him.

But at this point... whether it looked good no longer mattered.

Kashir stretched his neck over A'Ming's shoulder.

A'Ming turned his head.

Fangs emerged.

They pierced Kashir's neck.

Blood began pouring into A'Ming's body.

At the same time...

A'Ming began forming hand seals.

It was just like the Sword Saint opening Second Grade at a critical moment.

If it was needed... he opened it without hesitation.

Ultimate moves were not something one saved until he was nearly out of descendants.

That sort of orderly progression where two sides traded ordinary blows, slowly escalated, then finally used their ultimate techniques... was how storytellers stretched an afternoon session.

In a real fight... you showed your hidden card from the very beginning.

Whenever Marquis Zheng fought, unless the opponent genuinely knew no martial arts at all, the moment he encountered anyone remotely dangerous he shouted:

"Son!"

A real fight to the death was not soup.

Who had the leisure to wait while the flavor slowly simmered out?

The aura of a Forbidden Spell began brewing before A'Ming.

Even with Kashir's neck between A'Ming's teeth, the old vampire showed no pain.

For him... there was not much left to choose.

Be dragged back to Chu as a slave?

Or finish this fight, return to Marquis Pingxi Residence, and keep drinking himself senseless in the wine cellar?

Hadn't he come out today without shackles?

If he performed properly... perhaps one day he could truly live inside Marquis Pingxi Residence like a normal person and enjoy that wonderfully refined life.

One had to admit... the atmosphere of Marquis Pingxi Residence possessed a powerful attraction.

Even the Savage King occasionally lost himself in fantasies of feeding horses at some future inn.

Kashir was the same.

At first, he had feared A'Ming.

By now... he felt very little hatred.

Yes, sometimes he had to stay in a cage.

But when it came to refined pleasures, anything A'Ming enjoyed... he enjoyed too.

Now Kashir's face pointed forward.

His gaze locked onto Nian Yao in the straw rain cape.

He was helping A'Ming lock onto Nian Yao's qi.

Not merely a blood bank.

He could also serve as radar.

This was what happened when subjective initiative was fully mobilized.

A'Ming's hair began floating upward.

His feet slowly left the ground.

Blood Clan magic was hardly popular in the East.

But the fluctuation of power was still so intense that all four guards beside Nian Yao felt crushing pressure.

"Meng Lei. Protect the General and withdraw first."

A simple order.

No wasted words.

The guard called Meng Lei did not say, You all go, I'll hold them off.

Grand General Nian did not shout, We're brothers, I refuse to leave.

Nothing of the sort.

Grand General Nian turned and began running south.

Meng Lei followed directly behind him.

The remaining three guards charged forward.

Their division of labor was clear.

Their movements unified.

Not the slightest drag or hesitation.

Pi Si and the others shouted and went to meet them.

The instant the sides clashed... three of Guo Dong's men were cut down.

Pi Si was one of them.

But these men were vicious too.

Especially after Grand General Nian personally revealed his identity.

That only made them more ferocious.

The enemy commander stood right in front of them.

How could they not risk their lives?

This was enormous merit.

Ten lifetimes might pass without another chance like this!

Even if they died here... so long as the attempt succeeded in the end, their wives and children would receive titles and protection!

So Pi Si drove his saber into one guard's thigh... at the price of taking a blade through his own abdomen.

At that moment...

A'Ming completed his preparations.

A Forbidden Spell... even a small Forbidden Spell... still required an inconvenient prelude.

"Forbidden Spell... Blood Sacrifice!"

A bloody shadow appeared beneath A'Ming's feet.

It resembled a demon god summoned directly from the underworld.

Kashir sighed in admiration:

"Oh, Lord A'Ming may know even more Forbidden Spells than I do."

BUZZ!

The next instant... the bloody shadow plunged into the ground.

A streak of blood-light appeared across the earth.

It moved with terrifying speed, curved around the fighting ahead, and rushed directly toward Grand General Nian.

Meng Lei did not hesitate.

He leapt into the air and intercepted it.

The bloody shadow crashed into his body.

"AAAAAAAHHHHH!"

A hardened guard who would not utter a sound no matter how badly he was wounded on a battlefield... now released a shriek of pure agony.

His body began corroding at terrifying speed.

In moments... he no longer resembled a human being.

Then the bloody shadow faded.

The guard collapsed to his knees.

Both arms rose.

Skin and flesh began peeling away.

He was unquestionably dead.

Yet his ruined body continued twisting strangely... like a snake that had just been skinned.

One bloody shadow.

Almost an instant kill.

Unfortunately... it had not struck the true target.

At A'Ming's peak, a spell like this could have spread over entire mountains and plains.

At that point, even if Nian Yao had twenty or thirty guards willing to sacrifice their lives for him... none of them would have mattered.

But that had been A'Ming at his peak.

The present A'Ming did not dare play that way.

Not unless he had twenty or thirty Kashirs lined up beside him, constantly feeding him energy.

With only one Kashir... forcibly expanding the scale of the Forbidden Spell would only cause the spell to fail... while Kashir exploded like a maggot squeezed between two fingers.

The next instant...

A'Ming's toes touched the earth.

Then his entire figure shot forward like a ghost.

He did not care about Guo Dong's battle at all.

Even if Guo Dong and every one of his men died... it did not matter.

Ordinary people existed to be sacrificed.

In the eyes of Demon Kings, there was no equality of all living beings.

No compassionate sorrow for the masses.

Still, because Meng Lei had died instantly and A'Ming had immediately continued his pursuit, the remaining three guards no longer wanted to keep entangled with Guo Dong's group.

They broke away at high speed and rushed after their General.

One had been wounded in the leg by Pi Si.

His retreat was slower.

A Yan soldier behind him pounced onto his back and tackled him to the ground.

The two companions ahead did not even look back.

They continued pursuing the General.

The isolated guard was stabbed to death.

One had to admit... compared with Marquis Zheng going everywhere with the Sword Saint in an absurdly luxurious bodyguard formation...

Grand General Nian's security looked positively shabby.

There was not a single genuine high-grade Martial Artist beside him.

At this moment, Grand General Nian looked thoroughly miserable.

At first he had run simply out of caution.

After all, the name "Zheng Fan Li" of Marquis Pingxi Residence was known outside.

According to Silver-Armored Guard analysis, that name referred to one of the top experts Marquis Pingxi had cultivated and kept by his side throughout his rise.

But after witnessing Meng Lei's horrifying death...

Nian Yao now felt a genuine fear of the unknown.

Fear itself... was rooted in the unknown.

When Marquis Zheng had first encountered that prophecy, even he had lost sleep and appetite over it.

Grand General Nian had just watched an utterly incomprehensible death occur before his eyes.

Naturally his heart was disturbed.

He was human.

No one was a god.

Grand General Nian crossed an earthen ridge.

A'Ming crossed it after him.

Grand General Nian seemed to twist an ankle... or perhaps he simply wanted to escape faster.

On the downhill slope, he abandoned all dignity and rolled directly downward.

Below lay a hollow where the wind gathered.

A thick layer of dead leaves had accumulated there.

Grand General Nian rolled into them.

It took him considerable effort to stop.

He looked horribly bedraggled.

The straw rain cape that had fit the winter landscape so well... was now torn and ragged.

A'Ming began forming seals again.

Kashir, already settling naturally into his role, helped build the atmosphere:

"Oh, let me guess. What Forbidden Spell will the great Lord A'Ming use this time? I truly cannot wait!"

"Forbidden Spell... Blood Sacri..."

"Oh! The great Lord A'Ming is actually using Blood Sacrifice again! Truly shocking!"

Behind them, the final two guards had fallen much too far behind.

No matter how desperately they ran... they could not reach A'Ming in time to interrupt the terrifying spell he was preparing again.

One guard hurled the saber in his hand.

A'Ming sensed it coming.

But did not dodge.

Not because he was completely unable to move while forming seals.

Rather...

PFFT!

The saber entered diagonally through A'Ming's waist.

A'Ming did not so much as twitch.

He ignored it completely.

"Oh! At a moment like this, having a saber thrust through the body makes the whole scene fit Blood Clan aesthetics even better! As expected of Lord A'Ming. Your mastery of art and composition makes me want to drag every painter in the West over here and line them up..."

But then...

Grand General Nian, sitting battered among the dead leaves ahead, suddenly shouted:

"I know I'm not Tian Wujing."

"Oh? So what?"

Kashir, even while being drained of blood, did not forget to play the supporting role for A'Ming.

After all... letting the person about to die say a few final words could be an exquisite pleasure.

"So I am not that reckless either."

Nian Yao raised one arm.

Then shouted:

"Formation! Rise!"

"HO!"

"HO!"

"HO!"

In an instant, men stood up from beneath the piles of dead leaves.

Shields in their left hands.

Long spears in their right.

Sabers and axes strapped across their backs.

Several.

Dozens.

More than a hundred.

No.

Similar shouts rose from both other sides of the mountain hollow as well.

At least a thousand ambushers had been hidden here!

Grand General Nian, who moments ago had looked helpless and isolated... was instantly protected beneath layer after layer of soldiers.

Kashir roared almost furiously:

"Then why the hell were you running away just now?!"

You had this many troops hidden here the entire time... yet you deliberately acted as though you were fleeing for your life?

Were you playing with us on purpose?

Damn you!

Nian Yao slapped his own forehead and cursed:

"Because when I came out earlier to get some air, I ordered them not to move unless I personally gave the command! Because the soldiers I trained truly obey orders and prohibitions to the letter! They watched me running for my life toward this place, and not a single bastard moved on his own to come help me! Son of a bitch. I nearly trapped myself to death!"

Grand General Nian was not boasting about how well he had trained his soldiers.

Because if Meng Lei had not blocked that spell for him earlier... he might genuinely have died right in front of all his own personal troops.

What kind of death would that have been?

Humiliating beyond words.

Nian Yao pointed forward.

Then ordered:

"Advance!"

"HO!"

The Chu Imperial Clan Guards began surging forward.

"Oh, great Lord A'Ming. Now we..."

A'Ming immediately canceled the second round of seals.

Then reached down.

Pulled the saber lodged in his waist free.

"Lord A'Ming, are we going to fight to the death? Yes! As noble Blood Clan, how could we lower our proud heads? We must..."

CLANG!

The saber hit the ground.

A'Ming turned.

And ran.

[End of Chapter 775]