"Secret path? What secret path?"
Apart from Dong Haodong, the others looked blank. Zhao Xunan smiled and explained—after all, the secret path was critical, and its existence had never been publicly revealed.
Even the grandmasters who'd trekked with him through the mountains didn't know. They spent their days gathering herbs and clearing paths, oblivious to the fact that all their efforts were preparing for this surprise attack.
"General, it's too dangerous for you to lead personally. Let us go in your stead!"
At the news that Zhao Xunan would lead the charge, the generals hurriedly protested. A Grand General of the Western Expedition leading the vanguard? It seemed unseemly.
"Enough. The enemy has at least one Qi Refiner beyond the mortal realm. Aside from me, no one else can stop them."
Zhao Xunan waved them off. The generals exchanged bitter smiles and fell silent—among cultivators, only another cultivator could match a cultivator. For such a critical mission, they truly couldn't compare.
"Select 100,000 elite troops to prepare for the assault. The rest will stand by. Once West Pass raises its colored banners, attack at full force. We'll hold the line for half an incense stick—don't miss the moment!"
His tone held grave gravity. Qi Refiners, newly entered the path, recovered their true energy too slowly. Against a tide of soldiers, they'd collapse quickly. Missing this chance wouldn't just cost West Pass—it'd doom hundreds of grandmasters. The loss would shake Great Qin to its core.
Under the cover of gathering darkness, hundreds of men, torches in hand, rushed toward North Yin Mountain. The West Pass garrison, long accustomed to such sights, paid them little mind.
After five days and nights of nonstop labor, the million-strong army had forged a path like a sea of fire. These scattered torches were but a drop in the bucket—hardly worth noticing.
Led by Zhao Xunan, the grandmasters followed the paths they'd carved over days, tracing the mountain stream's source into the secret path. In just half an hour, they reached the stone hall deep in the mountain's belly.
Meanwhile, the Great Qin army arrayed against West Pass shifted. Ten thousand elite soldiers with blades and spears formed the front line; five thousand archers followed; tens of thousands of shield-bearers hefted over a thousand ladders, pressing to the fore.
When the assault began, they'd be the first wave—scaling ladders, forging a path to the walls. Their task: plant the ladders, build the bridgehead.
Zhao Xunan pressed his palm to the rock, probing with his divine sense. The open space across from them hummed with more auras than before. Straining to listen, he caught faint female voices. His brow furrowed.
West Pass was a military stronghold—why were there so many women here?
After a moment's thought, Zhao Xunan drew Tianji. Whatever awaited beyond, nothing would stop this operation.
"Prepare!"
His voice cut sharp. Hundreds of grandmasters unsheathed their blades, crouching low. The moment the walls crumbled, they'd surge in—gods be damned, Buddhas be damned—charging straight for the city gates.
Inhaling deeply, Zhao Xunan raised his blade. True energy surged into Tianji, which blazed with blinding light. He slammed it into the rock face.
"Boom!"
Two feet of rock shattered, the explosion echoing loudly. But the relentless bombardment of stone balls drowned it out. Hundreds of grandmasters flooded in, only to freeze, staring at the hall's sight. Their raised blades hovered, unlowered.
"...What the hell is this?!"
Zhao Xunan's eyes twitched. The hall was packed with women in thin garments—some still in wooden tubs, bathing. Their beauty was striking. The explosion had left them pale, trembling as they huddled together.
"Helian Yi, ask them what's going on!"
Zhao Xunan ordered two men to guard the door, massaging his temples.
Helian Yi swaggered over, leering at the tubs, but Zhao Xunan kicked him aside. "Damn it—you only notice the busty, bare-bottomed ones? Can't you ask someone else?!"
Helian Yi rubbed his stinging butt, gritting his teeth as he approached the women. After a quarter-hour, he staggered back, face ashen.
"G-Great... Great..."
Zhao Xunan slapped him. "Speak properly. I only have one 'great'!"
Helian Yi massaged his throbbing skull, calming himself before stammering out the women's tale. Zhao Xunan listened, then froze—then understood.
No wonder West Pass had acted so strangely these days. It was under the control of the Sixth Imperial Prince of the grassland khanate.
Biting his lip, Zhao Xunan made up his mind. "Heaven bestows and takes away. To miss this opportunity would invite calamity."
"Leave two to guard. The rest—follow me to find that Sixth Prince."
"To capture the thief, first capture the leader. Take him, and West Pass is ours!"
His voice brimmed with suppressed excitement. The crowd shared his thrill.
Fighting 200,000 West Pass defenders—even with grandmasters—was a suicide mission. Now, there was a path to victory without bloodshed. Who wouldn't rejoice?
Pushing open the heavy door, Zhao Xunan led the way. The grandmasters tiptoed, following his lead.
Here, the benefit of being a cultivator shone: after studying the Treasure-Seeking Record, his divine sense had expanded from ten feet to twenty. He navigated turns without a glance.
Climbing thirteen steps, he paused at a corner, taking a deep breath. With two fingers, he pointed.
"Decree of the God of Fortune: No Killing Without Cause!"
The grandmasters watched as a white light flashed. The faint sounds of footsteps beyond vanished instantly.
"Follow!"
Waving them on, Zhao Xunan tiptoed forward.
Past the corner, they spotted a dozen stone statues—spearmen and swordsmen—lining the hall. Their eyes widened. Never had they imagined the Grand General of the Western Expedition dabbled in magic.
Another flight up, Zhao Xunan's eyes narrowed. Straightening, he sighed. "They've hidden it. Someone's discovered us."
Shaking Tianji, he strode down the broad corridor.
At the end stood a pair of double doors. Two grassland warriors, their headdresses adorned with carved feathers, flanked them. One was Yuwen Gang, whom Zhao had crossed paths with before. At the sight of Zhao, he clasped his chest and bowed.
"General Zhao, the Prince and Elder are waiting inside. Your men may not enter."
Helian Yi exploded. "Damn it—let our Grand General enter alone? What if your bastards chop him into dumplings?!"
"Our men are all grandmasters. We'll slaughter your rat's nest if we have to!"
Zhao Xunan grinned, clapping Helian Yi's shoulder. "Relax. Let's talk first. No need for bloodshed—I'm no fan of gore."
The crowd snickered. Helian Yi grumbled, "General, you say that… doesn't it feel wrong?"
Zhao Xunan shot him a look, heading inside. "I've never done wrong. Wait and see what the Sixth Prince has to say."
As the crowd watched Zhao enter, the heavy doors slammed shut with a boom. The grandmasters' hearts lurched—this turn of events was unforeseen.
But with Zhao's cultivation, they wasn't overly worried. Sneaking up on the Grand General of the Western Expedition? Not so easy.
The room was dimly lit. Prince Li Yulong, clad in a faded yellow robe and looking haggard, rose to greet Zhao. "The guard spoke true—you're as exceptional as they said, General."
"Prince Li Yulong, greetings. Fellow cultivator."
Zhao Xunan returned the bow. After all, the prince was a recognized imperial scion—he couldn't be rude.
He then clasped hands with Yuwen Zhenyan, addressing him as "fellow cultivator" to bridge the gap. Last time, Yuwen had gifted him a dragon-sinew tiger-tooth pendant and a white spear—both extraordinary. This debt merited respect.
Moreover, since the prince had sought him out, the topic was likely West Pass's fate. Building rapport now would aid negotiations later.
A thought flickered in Zhao's mind, but he dismissed it as absurd. His face remained impassive as he said, "Our armies clash fiercely—why summon me here?"
Li Yulong chuckled. "Your target is me, isn't it? If not for the guard, you'd have charged in and taken my head by now."
Zhao Xunan grinned. "Your Highness overestimates me. Why kill you? West Pass's 200,000 soldiers are leverage to keep you in line. I'd never stoop to such foolishness."
"Fellow cultivator… you address me as 'Your Highness.' Could it be…?"
Yuwen Zhenyan hesitated. Zhao nodded. "I'm from Jade Capital. This is about West Pass."
"Ten days ago, I was ordered to lead the Six Guard Divisions as Grand General of the Western Expedition, with full authority over West Pass. This pass, lost for fifty years, I'll reclaim at all costs."
His tone left no room for doubt. Li Yulong sighed. "Your method—bombarding with stone balls—is… unique. Great Qin has never seen such an assault. You've carved a new chapter in history—I admire that."
Li Yulong's words held no bitterness, only admiration. Zhao's brow lifted; his earlier absurd thought now seemed plausible.
"Might you explain how you entered? I've scoured West Pass—no weaknesses found."
Yuwen Zhenyan pressed. This baffled him: one man could slip in, but hundreds? Without clashing, unless their senses had collided…
"It's simple. There's a secret path unknown to others."
Zhao Xunan smiled. Yuwen Zhenyan shook his head. "If there were a secret path, Great Qin would've hidden it for fifty years, watching itself bleed until it withered. Why let you waltz in now?"
His words held merit. Zhao's smile faded. "Mortal eyes can't see it. A mountain-secluded sect revealed it. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here."
At the mention of a "mountain-secluded sect," Yuwen Zhenyan sighed deeply. To those lofty cultivators, did the mortal realm even have secrets?
"I summoned you here for one reason: West Pass's return to Great Qin."
Li Yulong's tone turned grave. Zhao's heart raced—it was happening.
"The situation in the grasslands is no secret to you, General…"
Li Yulong recounted the khanate's upheaval. Zhao listened, marveling. The second-strongest power in the mortal realm—how had it fallen into such chaos?
"My request is simple: grant me the title of Prince, and a place to recover within the pass."
"West Pass remaining under Great Qin is good. Recently, my elder brother's envoys came—demanding West Pass."
Li Yulong's gaze hardened. "I know their type. Lose West Pass's protection, and my elder brother's cruelty will doom me."
Zhao Xunan nodded. "I swear: hand over West Pass, and your fiefdom will be safe. The court won't act—on my life, I'll protect your lineage."
His words were ironclad. Li Yulong exhaled, rising with Yuwen Zhenyan to bow. Zhao hadn't expected things to go so smoothly.
The Great Qin army, arrayed outside, stared at West Pass. Dawn broke—why no movement from the walls?
Their anxiety lifted when a white banner rose over West Pass. Dong Haodong ordered the attack halted. Five nights of thunderous bombardment ceasing, the silence was jarring.
"Boom—!"
Shortly after, West Pass's sealed gates shattered. Hundreds of grandmasters galloped forth, shouting at the top of their lungs, their voices carrying across the land:
"The Sixth Imperial Prince of the grasslands surrenders—West Pass is taken!"
Under the midday sun, the armies swapped positions.
Yinshan Garrison, once stationed in Jiaojiao, moved to West Pass. The 200,000 West Pass defenders and 300,000 herders reentered Northwest Province, joining the Jiaojiao garrison.
Zhao Xunan activated a crystal to send word. That evening, a reply arrived—direct from the Emperor.
Li Yulong was enfeoffed as the "Prince of Fuyou," with the Anxi Prefecture in Northwest Province as his fief. Thirty-three thousand grassland herders became his subjects; he could appoint his own officials. Silver, gifts, and an edict from Jade Capital followed.
Five thousand former West Pass soldiers became his personal guard; the remaining 150,000 formed a new "Wangchuan Guard," with fifty military divisions—unprecedented in Great Qin's history.
Li Yulong, Yuwen Zhenyan, and their companions were overjoyed. They'd never imagined the court would honor them so—a hereditary prince's title, no less.
By imperial decree, princes of the bloodline inherit, but collateral branches succeed only if the throne lacks an heir. A prince's title carried a third of the imperial aura.
"Your Majesty's generosity overwhelms me. For Great Qin's sake, I'll lay down my life!"
Li Yulong spoke sincerely. Zhao Xunan smiled, though a pang of regret flickered. The burly, straightforward man from the Outer Three Mountains, whom he'd hired as a West Pass defender and called "Uncle," had already returned to the khanate. He'd never see that fool again.
Jade Capital erupted in celebration. The recovery of West Pass after fifty years was the greatest joy in decades.
The happiest were the scholars of the Imperial Academy. To reclaim West Pass—they'd credit Master Zhao Xunan, Dean of the Martial Arts Academy and Chancellor of the Academy of Letters.
As colleagues, they felt a shared pride.
Yet the imperial court held a tinge of unease. When the Emperor had enfeoffed Zhao Xunan as Grand General of the Western Expedition, he'd said: If he recovers West Pass, grant him a prince's title as reward.
The ministers had agreed then, doubting it would happen. But now West Pass was back. A grassland prince was one thing—loyal, exiled, and confined to the northwest. But Zhao Xunan?
After returning to the northwest, he'd inevitably return to Jade Capital. Already a Second-Rank official, and de facto ruler of the Imperial Academy, a prince's title (superior to all others) would grant him influence beyond measure.
As the ministers fretted, the Emperor strode into the hall, seating himself on the Dragon Throne. "Zhao Xunan's letter says he wants no rewards—only a six-month leave. Discuss—what does he mean?"