Chapter 441: Unmarked Silhouette
Three Generals Camp.
The soldiers formed into a battle formation, lined up in order, like a thick and muscular python slowly winding its way through the mountainous terrain.
Liu Er rode a yellow dun horse, gently rubbing the Primal Yellow Sword in his hand.
This treasured sword was thick and bladeless. The blade was an earthy yellow, patterned with black veins like the rootlines of the earth.
Its hilt was black, encircled by spaced rings of earthy yellow, imbued with the sedimentation and protection inherent in the Earth Element Dao.
It had been forged by Jin Li, the national craftsman, using a weapon blueprint provided by Liu Er and the Primal Earth Mother Stone gifted by Ning Zhuo.
This was not a treasure, but a weapon.
Treasures emphasized the use of spells; weapons, by contrast, contained military arts—which often acted upon people or objects, exerting either positive or negative effects.
Spells and military arts were difficult to integrate—almost mutually exclusive in creation.
In practical use, cultivators wouldn’t forcibly combine spells and military arts into one treasure. The difficulty was too great, and the cost even higher.
With such resources, it was better to forge a treasure and a weapon separately!
Liu Er gripped the hilt, feeling the weight and power of the Primal Yellow Sword, and in a moment of trance, it seemed he could feel the pulse of the earth.
“Truly worthy of being a weapon made by Jin Li himself.”
Liu Er was deeply fond of this weapon. He knew that for this upcoming battle, it would be this treasured sword he would rely on the most.
Within the shadow cast by him and his mount on the ground, a pair of eyes suddenly opened.
It was Wu Hen!
Wu Hen’s eyes were laced with black blood vessels, appearing eerie and gloomy.
He observed Liu Er, feeling rather speechless.
Clearly, the Primal Yellow Sword was a defensive treasure with a heavy, blunt edge. With Liu Er gripping the hilt with one hand and touching the blade with the other, how was Wu Hen supposed to launch a surprise attack?
There was no opening at all.
If Wu Hen had been acting alone, he might have chosen to keep watching, waiting for Liu Er to sheathe his sword and reveal a flaw.
But now, numerous Golden Core Cultivators, including Chen Lingfeng, were all waiting for him to strike.
Wu Hen decisively gave up on Liu Er and leapt from shadow to shadow, at times waiting until a cultivator's shadow merged with those of nearby trees or rocks, then slipping away in that instant.
No ordinary stealth technique could achieve what he did.
This was because the soldiers of the Three Generals Camp moved in formation—military force circulating, ranks orderly—radiating the power of national defense.
Very few stealth techniques could move freely among them. Even experienced scouts could only cautiously approach to a certain distance and observe from afar.
Wu Hen searched all the way through the formation and found a burly man in the middle of the ranks.
This burly man was over eight feet tall, with a short thick neck and a face full of steel-needle-like black beard. His Golden Core Aura surged—this was Zhang Hei.
Zhang Hei rode a black dun horse, holding a riding whip. He wasn’t hiding in formation but stood at the roadside inspecting the troops.
If he spotted any soldier lagging, distracted, or slacking off, he’d lash out with the whip and curse loudly.
“Move faster!”
“Slacking off while in formation!?”
“Hey! You dare glare at me?!”
Zhang Hei’s temper with disobedient soldiers was explosive. His whip drew constant screams, but it did keep the troops alert, faster, and more disciplined—maintaining the stability of the snake-formation.
Wu Hen watched from a distance, not daring to approach.
Seeing Zhang Hei whip the soldiers repeatedly, he found it frustrating.
Zhang Hei’s fury boiled, his aura sharp like drawn weapons—definitely not someone easy to ambush.
Just then, Zhang Hei suddenly stopped using his whip, merely pointing with it while cursing verbally, holding back significantly.
Wu Hen was puzzled when he saw a carriage moving along with the formation.
As it reached Zhang Hei, a small window on the carriage opened, revealing a fair-faced young cultivator with bright eyes.
With a helpless tone, the youth said, “General Zhang, I could hear your shouting from afar. Were you whipping the soldiers again?”
Zhang Hei hastily denied, “No, no! Ever since the Military Strategist complained to Big Brother, I hardly ever do such things anymore.”
The youth shook his head, “From what you’re saying, General Zhang, it almost sounds like you blame me for reporting it?”
Zhang Hei quickly waved it off, “Impossible! The Military Strategist is always thinking for the good of the army. I, Old Hei, am grateful. Look at my Black Serpent Spear—without the materials the strategist gifted me, how could it have been made?”
“Sigh, General Zhang, take care of yourself.” Ning Zhuo let go of the curtain, returning to his solitude.
Inside the carriage was a formation, creating a space the size of a room—not as cramped as it appeared from the outside.
In the entire Three Generals Camp, only he enjoyed such special treatment. Even the three Golden Core generals—Liu, Guan, and Zhang—all rode Foundation Establishment-grade warhorses.
Wu Hen’s heart stirred. “So he’s Ning Zhuo?”
Cross-checking with the intel in his mind, Wu Hen confirmed his guess.
With a flicker of thought, he climbed stealthily into the massive shadow cast by the carriage, slipping inside without a trace.
Wu Hen: !!?
The moment he entered the carriage, he was stunned.
Ning Zhuo sat leaning against the carriage wall, quietly studying a book of mechanisms.
To his left stood a mechanical ape, fully armored, emanating thick bloodlust.
On his right sat a mechanical humanoid puppet, in the form of an adult woman, exuding a Golden Core aura.
Both the mechanical ape and female puppet gave Wu Hen a strong sense of danger.
What truly caught his attention, however, was the long mechanical scythe held by the female puppet.
From this scythe, Wu Hen sensed a familiar Dao and principle—
The Dao of the Bizarre.
“A Demonic Weapon of Night Rain?!”
“And not just an ordinary one!”
Wu Hen’s heart raced in chaos, unable to calm down.
He had relied on his unique cultivation arts and spells to sneak into the Three Generals Camp, and to gather intelligence inside Canglin Immortal City.
Because arts related to the Bizarre were hard to comprehend and even harder to cultivate.
Thus, most cultivators lacked understanding, making such methods difficult to guard against.
Rather than relying on cultivation alone, a more practical method was to acquire related treasures for study and use.
Ever since the fall of the Night Rain Dynasty, many powerful cultivators had collected Demonic Weapons of Night Rain.
Wu Hen held his breath and carefully exited the carriage.
That mechanical woman puppet radiated a Golden Core aura and wielded an extraordinary Demonic Weapon of Night Rain—Wu Hen had no confidence in ambushing Ning Zhuo.
Even if he succeeded in the strike, his spells would hold no advantage before that scythe.
Once restrained, and if the entire army surrounded him, could he still escape alive?
He had come here to earn merits in war, not to commit suicide!
Thus, Ning Zhuo was not a suitable target.
Wu Hen slipped away from the carriage, moving along the column to the rear, where he found Guan Hong.
Guan Hong sat astride a red-maned horse—not rubbing his weapon, the Blood Dragon Blade, nor shouting at the troops. Instead… he was grooming his beard.
His beard was thick, eight feet long, black and glossy, nearly trailing on the ground as he moved.
Every day, Guan Hong would set aside time to tend to his beard.
Seeing this, Wu Hen’s spirits lifted—finally, a suitable target!
He immediately sank into the shadow of the red-maned horse, quietly preparing.
Spell—Unmarked Silhouette!
In that instant, Guan Hong’s shadow beneath the horse suddenly expanded, and Wu Hen emerged from within.
His face was pale and withered, long black hair disheveled, his black robe tattered and shadow-tinged—its edges connecting his form to Guan Hong’s shadow like silk threads not yet cut.
Wu Hen’s magic surged from his hand, forming a pair of scissors that slashed toward Guan Hong’s neck.
Had the cut landed, Guan Hong’s head—and his shadow—would have been severed.
In that moment of life and death, Guan Hong’s heart pounded, gripped by an overwhelming sense of danger.
At the same time, soldiers marching behind saw Wu Hen and shouted in alarm.
Without time to turn around, Guan Hong focused his spiritual sense, detecting Wu Hen.
He "saw" Wu Hen aiming at his neck and reflexively raised his right arm to intercept.
Reflected on the ground, his raised arm met the tip of the shadow-scissors.
Pain pierced his soul!
Wu Hen, too, felt his scissors sink into flesh—unable to be withdrawn.
He had no choice but to go through with it, snapping the blades shut.
Even someone as hardened as Guan Hong grunted in pain. His right arm was nearly sheared off!
With battle-hardened instinct, he drew the Blood Dragon Blade with his left hand and slashed at Wu Hen.
Wu Hen let out a strange laugh and dove into the horse’s shadow.
Blade Art—Hundred-Zhang Life Chaser!
The blood-slicked blade aura locked onto Wu Hen, following him into the horse’s shadow.
In the next instant, Guan Hong’s red-maned horse shrieked and exploded, flesh flying, blade aura spraying wildly.
Though he had locked onto Wu Hen, he had mistakenly slain his own mount.
Guan Hong was badly wounded, and unable to strike back. He hadn’t hurt Wu Hen—only lost his horse!
After the strike, Wu Hen leapt through the shadows, fleeing at full speed.
Multiple spells smashed the ground, but not one harmed him.
Within ten breaths, he successfully escaped the enemy ranks—fully displaying the style of the Bizarre Dao.
But due to the many soldiers attacking Wu Hen, the formation fell into disarray. The long snake-formation of the Three Generals Camp faltered, exposing a huge gap.
Seeing this, several Golden Core Cultivators who had been waiting outside struck simultaneously!
In an instant, multiple spells blasted toward the soldiers from four directions.
Though the Three Generals Camp had been marching in formation, they reacted instantly.
Liu Er and Zhang Hei both leapt into the air, intercepting one spell each.
Guan Hong, injured, moved a beat late and only blocked half.
Ning Zhuo had Yuan Dasheng intervene, absorbing most of another spell.
But still, two or three spells struck the soldiers—killing over thirty cultivators on the spot.