To dye the secret realm's heavens and earth with one's own blood, to scatter a third of one's divine sense as the foundation of the Great Dao—even if the benefit were trivial, no cultivator would do such a thing.
After all, a secret realm that had already fallen silent was but refuse. Its internal laws were damaged; annihilation might come in the next breath. If a third of one's divine sense perished with it, the path to immortality would end there.
He drew fresh blood again and again, devoured all the spiritual herbs he'd gathered, and by the third day, the massive mural was entirely covered with the cultivator's blood.
Zhao Xunan invaded the damaged structure with a third of his divine sense, transforming it into an incomparable Great Dao. A flash of red light—blood-colored scenes peeled from the rock wall, rolling into a scroll that fell into his grasp.
He examined it closely; the scroll's seal bore a name: Mountain Ghost.
"If there be one by the mountain's crag,
Clad in ivy and trailing with vine.
Her gaze, a glance, a tender smile—
How I adore her graceful form."
"Ha ha ha!" Zhao Xunan laughed, tears streaming. Whoever had painted this Mountain Ghost, whoever had forged this realm—surely an ancient immortal. But the name… it cut straight to the heart, leaving one's liver and gall in shards.
"Boom—"
Whether triggered by his laughter or the mural's detachment, boulders suddenly crashed from the rock wall. When the dust settled, a dark, jagged cave mouth yawned before him.
Unlike naturally formed crystal caves, this bore the marks of chisels and axes. Zhao Xunan suppressed his smile; a thought arose. Could this be the secret path the heretic cultivator took to plunder the Brocade Great Wall's millennia of mortal will?
He stepped closer, frowning. The cave was eerily well-hidden—matching the tales. But where was the stream? This discrepancy puzzled him.
As he hesitated, the murmur of flowing water reached his ears. A thin stream trickled from the cave mouth, winding down the mountain.
"…Heaven is boundless; fate ordains all." Zhao Xunan sighed, tucking the scroll into his robe. He struck a flint, and with the faint flame, strode into the cave.
After two thousand steps, he found the stream's source—a crack in the rock wall gushing clear water. Beyond the source, another three thousand steps opened into a vast stone hall, its ceiling towering. Zhao Xunan traced the walls; it was a dead end.
But his divine sense detected a thin spot in the southern wall—just two feet thick. Beyond it, another empty cavity, and faintly, the sound of footsteps.
Zhao Xunan nodded. This is it.
After checking the surroundings, he turned to leave. But as he exited the cave, he found the crystal cavern had collapsed entirely, buried under landslides.
A realization dawned: Zhao Xunan turned and followed the new stream downward. This is the chance to seize West Pass.
Eight days later, returning to Jiaojiao City, Zhao Xunan first clarified the matter of Miao Wenqing. Dong Haodong gasped. A heretic Qi Refiner hidden all this time—had he harbored ill intent, we'd be dead without knowing!
"Damn it—how many heretics lurk in Yinshan Garrison?" Dong scratched his head. Zhao scoffed.
"To heretics, Yinshan Garrison and Jiaojiao City are paradise."
Dong frowned. Zhao gestured to the window. "Grasslanders and our own people clash daily—so much fresh blood. To them, it's paradise."
Dong snapped his fingers. Of course—heretics crave living flesh. Here, life is cheap. A cultivation holy land.
"Let's go catch another accomplice." Zhao turned to leave. Dong's face paled, grabbing his sword. "Another? Who?"
"The kitchen steward. The jerky he made reeks of human flesh."
The steward, a mortal, was easily captured. As he was led away, he laughed at Zhao. "Well done, General. Four cultivators couldn't match you. But your path won't last—heretics see you as meat. Soon, you'll be skinned, eaten, and your soul crushed!"
Zhao smiled. "Worry about yourself. Once we enter the pass, you'll be sent to a Daoist temple under the Patching Heaven Sage. Their methods for dealing with heretics… make skinning look merciful."
The steward's face turned green.
Two days later, 350,000 troops from the Left and Right Guard Divisions, Left and Right Leading Divisions, plus 100,000 from Longcheng Garrison, arrived in Jiaojiao. With Yinshan Garrison's forces, total strength neared 600,000. Including migrating civilians, over a million crowded the city.
From afar, the mass of heads looked like a black tide.
West Pass's slopes now held no grasslanders—all had retreated into the pass. Bugles blared; the city bristled with soldiers. The grassland khanate knew disaster loomed. The Great Qin's mobilization was costly—whether they won or lost, West Pass would face an apocalyptic battle.
Generals of the Six Guard Divisions and Left/Right Colonels gathered in the command tent, listening as Zhao Xunan outlined his strategy.
An hour prior, a message from the battlefield had arrived: Zhao Xunan is appointed Grand General of the Western Expedition, Second-Rank, with full authority to conquer West Pass.
"Grasslanders are hiding like rats—that's our chance!" Zhao tapped the sand table, grinning. "Attack from the front, pressure them till their morale breaks. Our grain lasts ten days of all-out assault—use every moment."
"Bombard the walls day and night for five days with trebuchets—no soldiers needed. Then, on the sixth day, storm the city with elite troops. Odd and even tactics combined—we'll take it!"
Left Guard General Li Feng gasped. "General, storming in one day leaves no time to find weak points. We'll lose tens of thousands!"
"Cities can't be taken by brute force," Zhao said sternly. "Great Qin's recovered after years of peace—we can't afford heavy losses. If Western Liang attacks, we're done."
The generals froze. West Pass, nestled in mountains, was impregnable. Without storming, how to break it?
"How? I'll explain on the tenth day. For now—crush their spirit!" Zhao slammed his fist on the table. "The grassland court is in chaos. Bombard them day and night; their morale will shatter. On the final day, my elites storm the gate. Odd meets even—we'll take West Pass!"
On West Pass's walls, Yuwen Zhenyan and a man in bright yellow robes peered through the battlements, faces grave.
Beyond, Great Qin's army stretched endlessly—over a million men. Since the khanate took West Pass, they'd never seen such a force. Not even the 50,000-strong army of fifty years ago compared. This was Great Qin betting its fate.
"…Even with such numbers, storming West Pass would cost dear," the yellow-robed prince sighed.
Yuwen Zhenyan shook his head. "Your Highness is wrong. Numbers are a burden here. West Pass is small—ten thousand men in battle, the rest wait. A million men mean endless supplies—Great Qin's treasury isn't that full."
"We hold the city, wear them down. Sooner or later, they'll retreat."
Prince Li Yulong nodded. "Thanks to you, we're not in chaos. If I hadn't killed the old garrison commander in anger, the garrison would be united. Now… I've no confidence."
Yuwen Zhenyan frowned. "Regret won't help. We must hold West Pass. The grasslands are under Second Prince's control—without West Pass, he'll erase us. The grasslands change daily; with West Pass, we have a chance to rise again. We can't lose it."
"Hopefully…" Li Yulong sighed, descending the wall into a dim passage. Exhaustion weighted his steps.
Six months prior, the Great Khan had been poisoned by a concubine's hairpin while visiting her. He'd lingered half a month before dying. The crown prince had ascended, only to be beheaded by the Second Prince three days later.
The Second Prince, long suppressed, now swept the grasslands. Princes fell; only Li Yulong, hidden by his mother's clan and protected by Yuwen Zhenyan, escaped to West Pass. He'd killed the pro-Second-Prince garrison commander and seized the pass, hoping to rebuild. But now Great Qin attacked—trapped between wolves and tigers, Li Yulong could only pray.
At fifth-day dawn, nearly 2,000 trebuchets, pushed by 100,000 civilians, rumbled to within 100 zhang of West Pass. Crude stone balls piled nearby.
Artisans shouted, directing civilians to load counterweight stones. Though muted, the noise still rolled toward West Pass, making grasslanders tremble.
From the city, soldiers watched the sea of torches—Great Qin was up to something.
"Boom—Boom—Boom!"
At first light, three cannons fired—not to attack, but to signal.
"…Standby troops, withdraw!" Yuwen Zhenyan, a Qi Refiner with supernormal sight, spotted the trebuchets. His neck hair stood on end. Foolish—I called all troops to the walls. Now they'll be slaughtered!
But the order came too late. All 2,000 trebuchets fired. Two thousand 100-jin stone balls arced into the sky, crashing onto West Pass's walls.
The impact shook the city. Hundreds of retreating soldiers were crushed; the walls trembled. Those behind the battlements survived.
Yuwen Zhenyan shattered a stone ball with his spear, leaping to the wall. "Hold fast—prepare for battle!"
The attack followed old tactics: bombard first, then infantry scaling walls, archers exchanging fire. But Zhao Xunan broke the rules, teaching grasslanders what it meant for stone balls to fall where they would.
Five days and nights of nonstop bombardment. Trebuchets broke; new ones took their place. The once-impregnable West Pass crumbled.
Fifteen-zhang gray-rock walls were pockmarked; stone slabs peeled, exposing packed earth. Even the gates had gaping holes. Panicked grasslanders sealed the gates with sand, too afraid to send cavalry to destroy the trebuchets.
Buildings near the walls collapsed; survivors crammed into storage tunnels, faces etched with despair.
Great Qin's generals rejoiced. This was the first time remote siege engines had been used as a main force—and they worked. With a few more months, West Pass would fall without a climb.
"General, you're brilliant. That 'military sage' talk holds water!" a general said. Others nodded; Dong Haodong smiled bitterly.
"But supplies are exhausted. We've three days left. If the city doesn't fall by then… we'll have to retreat."
Zhao Xunan, having spent days with 600 masters from the Six Guard Divisions and exploring North Yin Mountain, appeared. He greeted the crowd, then said sternly:
"I'll lead an assault via the secret path. The city falls today."