Chapter 966

If two martial artists were evenly matched, what decided a life-and-death duel? For ages, that question had been a favorite topic among the gossips of the martial world.

Some said it was superior internal energy and peerless martial arts. Others put a divine weapon first. Still others insisted it was an unshakable mind and exceptional physical ability.

Every one of those answers was right. And every one was wrong.

Masters who had reached a certain realm knew. They had felt it firsthand.

In a life-and-death duel, a single difference—however small, however trivial it might seem—could decide the outcome.

That was why they often agreed on one thing:

What martial art you’ve learned isn’t all that important. What matters most is having the eyes and instincts to see through your opponent’s movements.

And now, everyone in the gorge understood exactly what those words meant, though they had once seemed so distant.

Whoosh! Kaboom!

They couldn’t see the movements. They couldn’t even sense them.

They could only stare, dazed, forgetting for a moment to swing their blades at the enemies before them.

Beyond the endless flashes and thunderous booms, three figures tangled together at speeds too great to see.

Whoom!

An absurdly massive saber cleaved through the air. The mighty Force along its edge tore through Jamukha’s body with the wind.

Or seemed to.

Shhk.

A single step.

Jamukha’s form blurred for an instant, then reappeared about ten feet away.

He had dodged the attack with a ghostly movement. Just as he surged toward the Thunderbolt Saber King, a faint whistle sounded from beyond his blind spot.

Shwaa!

In that instant, Jamukha was reminded of something.

The Thunderbolt Saber King wasn’t the only enemy he had to defeat here today.

Shk—KABOOM!

The crescent saber met a gleaming white sword.

Amid the shock wave and deafening boom that reverberated through the gorge, Jamukha took an unexpected step back. A smile formed at the corner of his mouth.

Impressive. Even better than I expected.

His gaze fell on Jin Mukyung, who had been driven back, carving a deep furrow through the ground.

The young Sword Demon of the Jin Family of Taiyuan had delivered an unexpected strike despite his battered body.

And at last, Jamukha understood how Jin Mukyung, who had only just broken through to Supreme Peak, had defeated the Demon Bird, a master firmly established in that realm.

The sword Mukyung wielded had neither the prescribed movements nor the shapes considered fundamental to martial arts.

Only One Strike.

He found the fastest, most perfect path to end his opponent’s life, then took it.

And that strike, driven by the will to kill, carried far greater power than Mukyung’s own martial prowess should have allowed.

Enough to defeat the Demon Bird, a superior master, in the realm of Supreme Peak, where a single form could decide the fight.

But…

This is as far as it goes.

Without a word anyone could hear, Jamukha shook out both arms.

Green Force, like the vast grasslands where he had been born and raised, surged along his crescent saber and his empty hand.

Fwoosh!

Beyond the blinding flash swelling to an immense size, the two streams of Force shot in different directions.

One toward the Thunderbolt Saber King, who was bringing his great saber down as if to cleave the world in two.

The other toward Jin Mukyung, who was staggering and swallowing blood.

The result went far beyond what one man had expected.

Craaaack!

The Thunderbolt Saber King’s eyes widened as he stared at the two blades locked together without the slightest give.

What in the—!

He was a warrior to the bone. He had made his name in the Great Faction War and become a living legend, yet he had never underestimated an opponent standing before him.

And still, his full-powered strike had been blocked.

With astonishing ease.

As though his opponent had seen through both the form and the flow of the martial art he had used.

“How could you…!”

Confusion and anger mingled in his voice.

The two blades remained locked in midair, their wielders’ bodies still apart. Jamukha looked at the Thunderbolt Saber King with calm eyes.

“I’m disappointed. Shouldn’t you have saved your much younger junior first, Thunderbolt Saber King?”

“……!”

The Thunderbolt Saber King’s eyes wavered.

Over Jamukha’s shoulder, he belatedly saw Jin Mukyung on his knees, vomiting blood, unable to withstand the force of the palm strike.

Damn it.

A mistake.

No—a grievous misjudgment.

Jamukha was stronger than he had thought, and he was a far more formidable master, with deeper secrets.

BOOM!

After a fierce contest of strength, their sabers finally tore apart with a deafening boom.

The Thunderbolt Saber King let the force of the impact pass through him, then brought his great saber down at Jamukha again.

Fwoosh!

A strike combining his innate divine strength with several jiazi¹ of internal energy.

Born the third son of the Hebei Peng Family, he had become its Family Head and the Thunderbolt Saber King through the family’s peerless martial art, the Primordial Thunderbolt Saber. Now it fell like a bolt of lightning.

As if it would split the world in two along with the enemy before him.

Shing! KRAAAASH!

A keen slicing sound rang out as the gorge shook.

Yet even after delivering a strike worthy of one of the Ten Kings, the Thunderbolt Saber King swept his gaze over the area, eyes grave, while a hazy cloud of dust billowed around him.

Where is he?

He had swung his saber countless times and cut down more than a thousand people, by his estimate.

So he knew better than anyone:

That strike had cut through wind and earth, not a man’s flesh and bone.

“You bastard!”

The Thunderbolt Saber King roared like a tiger and swung his great saber.

Beyond the dust cloud scattering under the force of his blow, Jamukha was crouched in silence, like a wolf preparing to hunt.

Hup.

Neither moved first.

As if on cue, both men shot toward each other.

No one there could see the teeth and claws of the great tiger from the Hebei Peng Family or the wolf of the Great Steppe—so fast and so powerful were they.

BOOM! BOOM! KRAAA-BOOM!

Every time their sabers collided, a boom like cannon fire rang out.

The screams of those caught in the tremendous shock waves sweeping across the gorge rose over the noise.

“Gwaaaah!”

Arms and legs tore from bodies. Fountains of blood shot into the air.

Beyond a thick haze of blood, flashes of light kept sparking without pause. The nomads caught at the heart of the calamity fled for their lives.

Some ran toward the relatively safe entrance at the rear.

Others ran toward the exit at the opposite end.

Those with no choice but to take the latter route found themselves face-to-face with a forest of spears and blades, now almost upon them.

Thud-thud-thud!

Dozens of nomads, unable to dodge the arrows raining down from the still-standing earthen rampart, fell like pincushions. The blades in the hands of Shanxi fighters flashed as they pressed forward, trampling the crumbling bodies.

Shhk!

Jin Wikyung was exhausted, but the keen edge of his sword had lost none of its bite.

Having cut through a crescent saber and its wielder, he steadied his ragged breathing and advanced.

Toward the enemies inside the gorge, who had once seemed endless no matter how many they killed, but were now being swept away like a wave.

Toward the heart of the gorge, where two monsters were locked in a fierce battle.

Danger?

It didn’t matter.

The arrow had already been loosed. If they retreated now, only a defeat they could never undo awaited them all.

We have to seize the gorge and drive them out as soon as possible. That’s our only chance.

The arrival of the Hebei Peng Family, led by the Thunderbolt Saber King, had greatly improved the desperate battle situation. But Jin Wikyung’s cool head saw every detail of the position his side was in.

This momentum is only temporary. If the enemy regains their composure, the tide will turn again.

The Hebei Peng Family was undoubtedly strong.

Its power reached beyond its home province of Hebei to encompass the entire north alongside the Murong Family. And the Thunderbolt Saber King, a peerless Supreme Peak master, could take on an army by himself.

But the enemy was strong, too.

Jamukha was fighting the Thunderbolt Saber King without giving an inch, and beyond the gorge, tens of thousands of steppe warriors were still fighting the Hebei Peng Family.

Their morale had faltered, but they still outnumbered the Hebei Peng Family ten to one—perhaps more.

Even after thousands of their soldiers had been killed or put out of action in the narrow gorge, the fundamental gap in their forces remained.

There was only one answer.

To win a battle still hanging in the balance, they had to keep advancing with everything they had until the very end.

“Follow me!”

Jin Wikyung shouted at the top of his lungs and charged.

His body now soaked in blood, he plunged into the crumbling enemy line and swung his sword like a madman.

Craaaack!

He had too much to protect.

The people who followed him, ready to give their lives.

The land where they had been born and raised.

And, far in the distance, his little brother, staggering back to his feet despite his grievous internal injuries.

Jin Wikyung couldn’t give up any of it.

Not one thing.

Whatever else happened, Jin Wikyung’s judgment was right.

Outside the gorge, the terrain opened into a broad basin beyond its narrow, jar-like entrance. There, the battle raged on without either side giving an inch.

Thud-thud-thud!

Shhk! KRAAA-BOOM!

The Hebei Peng Family and the nomads.

The nomads and the Hebei Peng Family.

The two forces had shared a border and been at odds for many years. Now they swung their weapons and shouted themselves hoarse as if facing the enemies of a lifetime.

“They’re weak barbarians! Crush them in one blow!”

“Brothers of the Great Steppe! Will you retreat before a mere handful of Han Chinese?”

Those cries, carried on the wind as they rang out against each other, perfectly reflected the situation they were in.

The Hebei Peng Family’s martial artists were individually superior. But the nomads outnumbered them more than ten to one, surrounded them on all sides, and attacked without pause.

“Attack! Don’t fall back—surround them!”

“Break through!”

Sharp spears against enormous shields.

If the Thunderbolt Saber King had stayed, the Hebei Peng Family would have held the advantage. But after throwing the enemy ranks into disarray, he had headed into the gorge with some of his elite fighters. The nomads had quickly closed the gap in their encirclement and counterattacked.

Still, a trace of unease lingered in their hearts.

If this keeps up…

This is bad. Very bad.

The Keshik centurions Jamukha had left outside the gorge exchanged grim looks.

The Hebei Peng Family’s sudden arrival had sent the morale of the Shanxi fighters soaring, while brutally crushing the nomads’ momentum.

There was the imposing presence of a master like the Thunderbolt Saber King.

And there was the Hebei Peng Family’s reputation, which had kept the nomads from daring to encroach on Hebei.

Some of the centurions were already reaching inside their robes without realizing it.

If we use that now, we could turn this battle around in an instant.

But the thought quickly faded.

They remembered Jamukha’s order—the command of the absolute ruler of the Great Steppe, the lord they served.

“No one uses it without my order. This won’t be the last battle we have to fight.”

They had not objected to that firm command or doubted it in the slightest.

Not simply because they were his subjects, but because it was Jamukha who had given it.

Jamukha was always coolheaded and certain. Everything he had said so far had proved right, and this would, too.

That wouldn’t change even if the opponent was the Thunderbolt Saber King.

They had only one small question.

What made him so certain?

Before they reached Shanxi Province, Jamukha had already predicted that other enemies would come to the aid of the Jin Family of Taiyuan.

And he had declared without a trace of doubt:

“Nothing will change. Nothing at all.”

As the centurions recalled those words from several days ago and watched the battlefield with questioning eyes—

Rrrrattle.

Beyond the vast basin, where tens of thousands of enemies and allies were tangled together, a group suddenly emerged from the darkness. All at once, they drew their bows.

Shwaaaaa!

Beneath the storm clouds, thousands of arrowheads flashed as they cut through the wind and plunged down.