Chapter 1533 – Defeating Nie Liang and Attacking Yang Tao, Sword Pointing at the World (Seventy-Two)
“Lord, my Lord?”
Bai Ning clearly sensed that something was off with their Lord. He dared not raise his voice, fearing to ignite the firecracker.
Jiang Pengji gripped the hilt of her sword, revealing a cold smile that seemed angry yet was not. “Order the soldiers to form ranks and prepare to greet the enemy. No one is leaving tonight!”
Bai Ning shivered all over and thundered, “Understood!”
The ordinary soldiers were oblivious, but those near Jiang Pengji, including Qin Gong and Bai Ning, felt a deep sense of unease.
Most military generals who had achieved some martial prowess could feel the “qi”—like the enemy’s murderous aura or an ominous killing intent. This awareness, combined with long-term martial training, helped them dodge many lethal threats. The stronger one’s skills, the clearer the perception.
Undoubtedly, the young and famous Qin Gong and the seasoned Bai Ning were among them.
They distinctly discerned the overwhelming killing intent radiating from their Lord, which was not only unsettling for them but also affected the war horses nearby.
Bai Ning, disregarding his own injuries, gasped, “Goodness, how many people has the Lord actually killed?”
To develop such killing intent, one would need to be a slayer of thousands—most likely a slayer of tens of thousands.
Regardless of how many times, Bai Ning found it hard to connect his usually playful and witty Lord with the decisive killer on the battlefield. It was akin to not being able to fathom Li Han Mei wielding a spear in battle, then coming home to knit sweaters.
Jiang Pengji appeared to ignore Bai Ning’s grumbling and issued several military commands in quick succession.
The incoming enemy, seeing this formation, was momentarily taken aback, and some generals couldn’t help but scoff.
“Liu Xi’s forces must be deluding themselves, right?”
“Right? They’re now like lost dogs; a bunch of defeated soldiers can’t possibly turn things around!”
While some laughed, others secretly felt alarmed, with some even harboring thoughts of retreat.
The late reinforcements didn’t see the “divine miracle,” but the first batch of soldiers who had attempted to besiege Bai Ning witnessed the phenomenon—the rain of arrows was mysteriously blocked by a layer of bizarre golden ripples. The gods had joined the fray! How could mere mortals hope to win against the divine?
Thus, one group of soldiers surged with high spirits, while another’s morale plummeted. The contrast was striking.
No matter how many generals shouted, the fearful soldiers dared not move forward. They murmured things like, “The gods are here,” or “The gods will curse us,” trembling and pushing backward. Seeing this, the general could only act out of anger.
With a sweep of his sword, he decapitated three or four fleeing soldiers, instantly shocking the rest.
“Who dares to take a step back? This is what awaits you!”
In front, soldiers were still entangled with the enemy, and these cowards wanted to be cowards. It would be better to die cleanly than to affect the morale of the army.
The soldiers cried, “It’s not that we want to flee; it’s clearly the gods that have come! The arrows can’t hurt them!”
The general scoffed, “Can’t hurt? Nonsense! Disturbing the military spirit is a crime worthy of punishment!”
With that, the general took off the head of this soldier too; the force was so great that half the upper body came off as well.
After killing a dozen more, the chaos was finally suppressed, and the timid soldiers could only rush forward to fight again.
The general wore a sneer of contempt, shaking off the warm blood from his blade.
What gods?
What can’t be hurt?
If such powers existed, what about those enemy corpses who had been ambushed and had no graves?
In the brutal battle, both sides sustained losses. Didn’t they see not only their own soldiers’ carcasses but also those of the enemy?
What gods? Just a shabby trick to shake the courage of the troops!
“What’s happening at the front?”
Fan Chen arrived late, having missed the “divine miracle.” He only saw a portion of soldiers fearfully disrupting the formation, prompting him to send people to restore order.
The general cupped his fists and reported, “It’s just the enemy putting on a show, using so-called miracles to scare us.”
Fan Chen raised an eyebrow. “Miracle? What miracle?”
The general briefly explained the situation, and Fan Chen’s brows furrowed deep.
“Is there… something wrong?” the general asked.
Suddenly, Fan Chen thought of something, his expression subtly exciting, and even his grip on the reins trembled slightly.
His breath quickened with excitement, almost stammering, “Perhaps Liu Xi is also here!”
The general’s eyes widened in disbelief. What do you mean “Liu Xi is also here”?
Fan Chen replied, “Liu Xi possesses unparalleled combat strength. Based on our investigations, during her three years of studying in Langya County, she regularly flaunted her might and engaged in fights. Now that she’s become a warlord, she hasn’t changed her ways—she’s likely to be on the front lines battling generals, even mixing it up in the chaos of both armies.”
The general had heard this before but found it hard to believe each time.
Why do people say, “Good men shouldn’t be soldiers, good women shouldn’t marry military men”?
It’s not just because soldiering is lowly and lacks prospects, but the survival rate is also a huge concern. Nobody wants their painstakingly raised son or freshly minted husband to end up on the battlefield. This shows how dire survival rates in war are and how perilous battles can be. Even grand warlords would mix it up like common soldiers. If they were mistakenly killed on the battlefield, what then?
Not only warlords but also standard military generals wouldn’t personally involve themselves in the fray. Even if they did fight, they’d have twenty or thirty guards nearby. Soldiers can be easily found, but capable generals are rarer than gold; losing even one is too big of a deal.
If that’s true for generals, what about warlords?
“Liu Xi has crossed the Zhan River?”
Fan Chen sneered, “That so-called miracle has only appeared twice.”
According to ancient beliefs, not everyone could be favored by the gods; they only recognized Jiang Pengji.
If similar miracles occur, can we confirm that Jiang Pengji is also at the front?
If so, Fan Chen couldn’t let them leave easily.
Jiang Pengji still had no heir. If she were to die here, her forces would inevitably collapse!
While Fan Chen was secretly plotting, Jiang Pengji, the very subject of it all, seemed like she’d been injected with adrenaline—her speed in killing was startling, even scaring her own side.
To the enemies in front of her, they didn’t feel human; they resembled straw in a field. She wasn’t wielding a sickle to harvest, but rather like a combine harvester cutting through lives row by row. That wasn’t the scariest part; the scariest was that after killing so many, her eyes remained clear as ever.
What does this prove?
It only proves that to her, the enemy wasn’t even worth being seen as human, perhaps even less than chickens or ducks. Normal people would feel uneasy after killing too many chickens.
Thank goodness she was their Lord, not their enemy.
Due to the darkness of the night, visibility was limited, and Fan Chen and his men hadn’t noticed this yet.
He ordered part of the troops to launch a surprise attack from behind, and just as they began to move, Jiang Pengji figured out his plan.
“Feng Jing, you go to the rear and command; the enemy is about to arrive.”
After killing for a while, as she withdrew, Qin Gong caught a whiff of the suffocating stench of blood.
“Understood!”
Jiang Pengji noticed that the enemy’s archers were not yet “exhausted,” and couldn’t help but marvel at the Nie Clan’s wealth.
