High atop the reviewing stand overlooking the Northern Jun army, Dantai Xuan's gaze was unwavering, his expression as calm and cold as still water. Around him, his blood energy pulsed so fiercely it made his crimson cloak billow like a living flame. To his stunned disbelief, the city gate of Northern Luo City had swung open—Lu Changkong, who should have been trapped by four Grandmasters, had seized that narrow gap and slipped back inside, vanishing from sight.
"Worthless!" Dantai Xuan spat the word, every syllable laced with contempt. The three great families within the city had utterly failed him.
"We had only one chance," he muttered, drawing in a steady breath. "Now Lu Changkong hides behind his walls like a frightened turtle. We'll never trap him again."
At his side stood a refined scholar in green robes, his silken cap marking him as strategist.
"With Lu Changkong inside and no Grandmaster to defend, how did the three families fail?" the scholar asked, perplexed.
"I care only about the result," Dantai Xuan replied, ignoring him. Swiftly, he drew the sword at his waist, pointed it to the heavens, and roared, "Advance! The city is in chaos—storm the walls at once!"
At his command, fifty thousand Northern Jun soldiers began to press forward.
On the City Walls
The mood atop the ramparts was tense. Luo Yue stared at Lu Fan in astonishment. Though he had served under Lu Changkong for years, he'd never known the Young Master to be so audacious. A boy confined to a wheelchair, yet calling the shots—backing up Grandmasters?
"Young Master… the City Lord has returned inside. We shouldn't attack now; better await his counsel," Luo Yue urged.
"But four Grandmasters stand below," he pressed on. "Though Ning Zhao has broken through to Grandmaster level, facing all four at once will be suicide."
Lu Fan sat composed in his wheelchair, Ni Yu shading him from the sun. He tapped his chin thoughtfully.
"You're right, Uncle Luo," he conceded. "I've lived with crippled legs and a twisted temper—tiny insults break me. My father has never scolded me, so why should that blundering oaf?"
With that, he playfully smacked Ning Zhao's waist. "Ning Jie, go—Young Master's got your back."
"As you command," she replied with a teasing sidelong glance.
Luo Yue stood speechless. Sending Ning Zhao alone against four Grandmasters seemed a death sentence!
Ning Zhao inhaled, drawing on the surge of spiritual energy in her dantian. With a single light bound, she launched herself off the fifteen-meter-high wall, her white robes and silk veil streaming like a comet.
Below, Feng Shi felt a sudden gale and looked up. The four Grandmasters on horseback stiffened.
"Who is she?!" they murmured, raising weapons.
Ning Zhao descended like an exiled immortal, her breathtaking poise arresting every eye. In her cold gaze she fixed on Feng Shi—the man who had insulted Lu Fan.
He deserved death.
Her cicada-wing-thin sword snapped free. A ribbon of pale-blue spiritual energy streamed from her dantian, summoning an invisible tide of power around her, harmonizing with her thundering blood force.
Landing lightly before Feng Shi, she locked eyes with him and spoke in a voice as clear as steel:
"I am Ning Zhao, Qi Dan Realm Practitioner—by the Young Master's command, I claim your worthless life."
Inside the City Gates
Lu Changkong's attention snapped from the bodies at his feet to the open gates. His bare torso bristled as he sensed a powerful force outside.
"What strange energy… Who fights out there?" he muttered.
Ni Yu, trembling, dared to answer. "My lord… it is Ning Jie."
"Ridiculous," Lu Changkong growled. "Ning Zhao is only a first-rate warrior—she cannot wield such power. And she should be guarding the Young Master!"
Yet he could not deny the resonance of her booming voice beyond the walls.
On Dantai Xuan's Platform
Dantai Xuan stood tall atop the pavilion drawn by stallions, his eyes narrowing as he watched her descent—an image of transcendent grace.
"Who is this woman?" he whispered.
Even his most trusted strategist, the scholar in green, could only stare in silence. No name in their records matched this Grandmaster.
"A new Grandmaster in Northern Luo City… and none of us knew?" Dantai Xuan's lips curved into a wry smile. He had thought Lu Changkong reckless for leaving the walls—only to find the true guardian lay within. Well played, indeed.
He calmed himself. "General Mo, do not panic. We have four Grandmasters; they have only two. Our advantage remains."
Outside the Walls
Feng Shi roared, whipping his head around. "Hahaha! Insolent wench—how dare you threaten me? I, Feng Shi, First Hero of Beijun!"
He urged his horse forward, hooves striking sparks, but then abruptly reined in and fled—cowardice overtaking pride.
The four Grandmasters paused, shocked at his retreat.
"A Qi Dan Realm… practitioner?" they exchanged glances. "What is a 'practitioner'?"
"He's just spouting nonsense," one scoffed, and they spurred their horses toward Ning Zhao.
Atop the Wall
Lu Fan, now at the parapet, called softly: "Little Ni, take me to the battlements."
Ni Yu, cheeks flushed, maneuvered the wheelchair to a crenelation opening and steadied it there.
From that vantage, Lu Fan surveyed the approaching host of fifty thousand soldiers, their black banners rolling in like storm clouds. Then his gaze returned to the melee below—his eyes hardened. This fight must end swiftly, or even Grandmasters could not hold back an army.
Though he prized his spiritual energy, he now wielded the Creation of the Mysterious Qi Refining Method, granting the luxury to summon more qi without restraint.
Under Luo Yue's baffled stare, Lu Fan raised his hand, touching fingertip to thumb as though plucking a petal. If one strand of qi had sufficed, now he would unleash another.
A sly smile curved his lips. Feeling the qi infusion lock onto Ning Zhao… Lu Fan flicked his finger.
Ping!
A second ribbon of pale-blue energy leapt forth, ready to tip the balance in the decisive final moment.