Book 12 Chapter 8

A pair of horses intervene (介入)

- The crisis is back

"The damage is too great at this rate. We must retreat and conserve our power.

Anything more is a pointless sacrifice."

Bloodblade said in a stern voice.

The speed of red blood answered with silence. It was burning hot. This was an unexpected defeat. I was prepared to take some losses, but not this many.

Already more than a third of their force had been cut down. Of course, the main force hadn't been hit, but according to the original plan, it shouldn't have been hit at all. They were fighting an ambush, not a war of annihilation. So what was this disastrous situation?

Mo Saryeong, one of the three seamstresses and the master of ceremonies, was nowhere to be seen, which further fueled his anxiety.

"Yikes!"

A sullen whimper escaped between clenched teeth. They must have missed their moment of retreat and allowed it to come to this. Extermination wasn't the goal anyway.

The plan was to hit a portion of the enemy force in an ambush and then retreat as swiftly as the wind. What we didn't expect was to be hit with such a devastating counterattack.

The Blood Archers and Blood Chains were nearly wiped out, and the Bizarre, which had the power of two battalions, was in a state of complete decimation. Any more losses and it would be impossible to reorganize even with ten battalions.

I still had nine core battalions left, including the 1st Bloodsword, but any more power would be a waste. A good commander knows when to attack and when to retreat. Right now, it was the latter.

"Retreat."

His voice sounded weak, devoid of his usual strength. The shadow of a terrible defeat fell over his face. It would be the first crushing defeat in the history of the Twelve Blood Horsemen.

Operation…, a failure

"Recover every last one of them. They are worth more than your lives."

"The foreman had met with an untimely death," shouted Deputy Foreman 901, who was acting as temporary foreman. The iron shackles of the Bonghonjin could only be retrieved by a special method that required specialized training, as they were nearly impossible to remove with any amount of force.

Not even the Twelve Blood Horsemen could freely retrieve these chains if they weren't members of the Blood Clan, but even those specialists were far fewer in number now.

"Leave no trace. The cleverest birds leave no trace. We are the non-existent. Those who do not exist need no proof of their existence. Erase them all!"

Redblood ordered loudly with a sullen expression.

Before they retreated, they first unlocked the chain-locked iron cage. It would be absurd to leave such an expensive tool made of ten-thousand-year-old iron behind. The amount of ten-thousand-year-old iron in a single chain could be used to forge more than three hundred swords that would make a name for themselves in the heavens. It was enough to make any swordsmith's eyes light up.

"What? What are these guys doing all of a sudden?"

A bewildered Yeomdo exclaimed as the chains that had severely restricted their freedom of movement suddenly disappeared.

"Probably because they realized that further fighting was pointless."

"But what does that have to do with walking through those damn chains?"

"That means they've decided to retreat now! Isn't it only natural to take back things that have already served their purpose?"

"Why are you retreating? You know it, and I know it, neither side has been annihilated yet. And yet you're already calling it quits, when both sides are still intact? You're a bunch of wimps!"

His common sense didn't seem to comprehend the current situation; to him, there were only two ways to fight: either every breathing person on either side would disappear, or they would raise the white flag and surrender. What a simplistic and exhilarating (?) way of thinking.

"Ugh, think about that for yourself! Why can't you see that there's no point in continuing this fight? What the hell is your head for?"

Finally, Bing's frustration exploded.

In the midst of the hustle and bustle of retrieving the chains and melting down the bodies of their colleagues with pyroclastic acid, two old men stood back and watched silently as the evidence was destroyed. One of the old men, a thin man with an impassive demeanor and a prayer that reminded me of a sword, wore a dark navy blue silk robe. The other was dressed in a brown silk robe and wore a fierce fleshy dao at his waist. He was tall and fat, with a gracious smile hanging on his face, but only his eyes shone coldly through it.

"You owe me a debt, and a big one at that."

The old man frowned and said.

"What a disgrace. How shall I ever see the face of the Grand Duke again?"

The burly old man's face was flushed with shame and disgrace. He was not a man of calm character. Already, the flesh on his entire body was growing like a mushroom cloud.

"At least say goodbye when you go, and make sure you do it loudly!"

The old man with the graying white hair and cold expression said coldly, his eyes glowing abysmally, and the old man of Gal nodded.

"Of course, a living sacrifice should be as beautiful as possible, heh heh heh!"

The old man's gaze, bouncing on his rumbling belly and laughing maliciously, fell on a spot down the canyon, where he had his eye on a sacrifice from earlier.

Where the old man's gaze rested, there was a woman wielding a sword, emitting a chill like a white mist of polished white jewels. Her slender arms, clutching a sword that emitted a faint sword light, were as white as the spirit of a white pearl, and her jet-black, spotless hair, which fluttered with each twist of the saber as she danced, was as lustrous as the black pearls of the deep, as clear and high as the night sky.

Even in the midst of the bloodshed, her body was holy, as if she knew no defilement, and she seemed to radiate a holy light that no defilement could touch her.

Neither the carnage of battle nor the horrific bloodshed could dull her beauty, which shone like a celestial jewel. Like a sharp blade cutting through the darkness, she shone in the midst of this inferno.

A dark black flame of desire, like the flames of a fiery inferno, burned in the old man's eyes as he gazed upon her, the lotus of the Buddha shining like a jewel in the midst of the mud. He wanted to steal that light, brilliant as the dawn, and repaint it with darkness.

An ugly, brutal, filthy, sinister desire to kneel and subjugate, to defile and violate. Black flames, darker than darkness, burned in his searing eyes, and sinewy tendons bulged in his hands as he clenched his wicked dao.

He could no longer hold back the ugly desire that bubbled up like lava.

"Hmph!"

The demonized old man of Gal licked his upper lip with the tip of his tongue. The corners of his mouth formed into a cold, vicious sneer, like a green-scaled serpent. His face was contorted into a monstrous grimace that would make the scales of a venomous serpent stand on end.

"You have a bad personality."

Seeing Gong Fei drooling and breathing raggedly, Dongfang Hak frowned slightly and shook his head. In the hundred years they'd known each other, she'd never seen him lose his cool like he did today, swept up in a whirlwind of emotion. This was a very unfamiliar sight to her.

The two men took steps to fulfill the role they were supposed to play. To pay their debts and to instill fear that would serve as a warning and a wake-up call. The more brutal and savage the better, so the Magi chose not to pacify their companion, but to leave him like a wild beast out of a cage.

The reason the three seamstresses stepped up was to make an example of themselves, at a cost, and to get rid of an express priority elimination target. They stood to gain two things at once: fear and stalling. Even if their opponent was fifty, they were never intimidated or intimidated. They were confident that they could take him out at any moment.

And the Twelve Blood Horsemen would have their backs to the wall. There was nothing wrong with that. All they had to do was play their part wholeheartedly.

Yes, simply…….

Silently, they recalled the lists they had received with their portraits attached. They didn't have to get rid of them all, they said, just set an example for a couple of them. As if to prove they weren't already suffering from dementia, the list quickly flashed through their minds.

"Changeling Dragon Long Tianming, Three-Sworded Sword Qinghun, Iron Jade Sleep Maha Ling, Seven-Step Divine Sword Mo Yonghui, Ice White Peak Na Yerin…….

The sacrifice they sought was on their list, so they didn't hesitate, but the gap between the portrait and the Na Yerin they now saw was too great. Her mystery was not even partially captured in the painting. I almost didn't recognize her without the additional explanation.

"Looks like we're going to have to punish the guy who painted the portrait with a pay cut when we get back. Shall we make a move?"

"Great! "

Two old men bared their teeth, made of pure white steel, at their prey.

In the middle of the battlefield, Na Yerin felt the danger approaching her with her keenly developed senses and heard the warnings of danger. It was the first time since that day that Na Yerin had come face to face with a black desire so huge and ugly. Suddenly she felt her limbs stiffen; it was an instinctive fear, a revulsion of unknown depths. She looked at her son-in-law through her abysmal, glowing dragon eyes, but she could only sense the particularized danger, not capture it in her vision.

'Cilantro!'

She expanded her boundaries with urgency. Anyone who could unleash such an aura must be a super-advanced practitioner, not an ordinary master. Although she had made progress in her swordsmanship, she did not know if she would be able to defeat the wielder of such a powerful aura with her still-improving swordsmanship.

'류연…….'

Suddenly, her mind flashed to a face that was always so confident, so fearless (if a little too much so). A thin smile played on her red pomegranate lips. Since when had she allowed herself to be so vulnerable, so vulnerable, so vulnerable, so vulnerable, so vulnerable, so vulnerable, so vulnerable, so vulnerable, so vulnerable, so vulnerable, so vulnerable, so vulnerable, so vulnerable, so vulnerable, so vulnerable?

She gripped her sword tightly, confused and unsure of the answers to any of her questions. Na Yerin could feel two powerful auras surrounding her, one in front of her and one behind her, and the pressure they exerted was terrifying. She stared straight ahead, her mind wary of what was behind her.

The old man, a broad-shouldered, heavyset man, held in one hand a sword that looked as fearsome as a shark's tooth, with ugly fires of black lust burning in his nocturnal eyes, and a ghastly, creepy sneer curling the corners of his mouth.

"In my long life of more than a hundred years, I thought that I had seen all the beauties with my eyes and mastered them with my body, but when I saw you today, I realized that my thoughts were just my own delusion and arrogance. Looking at you, I feel like I'm returning to my younger self. I can't hold back this raging lust!"

A raspy voice, cold and sharp and burning with desire, came from the mouth of the old man of Gall, the one called Gongfae. A creepy voice that made the hairs on your back stand on end. The ugly, foul lust that burned within this old man was enough to make Na Yerin's mind go blank.

"Hmph!"

It was a cruel laugh, like a stabbing knife. Gong Fei licked his upper lip with his tongue once more. It was the look of a viper before its prey. He kept his mouth shut and said nothing like a statue, which made Na Yerin even more wary of him.

For the first time since leaving the Academy of Heavenly Martial Arts, Na Yerin felt a sense of urgency that if she made a mistake, she might be humiliated and then killed in the most humiliating way possible. As if one person wasn't enough, she now had two of the best in her class surrounding her. She pushed her entire body's internal qi to the max, determined to execute, even if it meant killing herself.

"Sis!"

Alarmed by Na Yerin's predicament, Yi Jinxue rushed forward, her twin swords fluttering like the wings of a butterfly, but she was still far out of her league against these two old men.

At a glance, Hyo-ryong realized the recklessness of what Lee Jin-sul was about to do. That terrifying, manipulative presence that he could feel despite being more than a dozen zhang away was a vivid reminder of their level of mastery. Obviously, it was too much for Jin-sul to handle.

Without even a second to ponder, Hyorong shot after Yi Yun like an arrow that had left a demonstration. He couldn't let her die here.

By this time, Bi Ryuyeon is still unaware of this, as he is up in the canyon to face the Bisama Army's Mosaic Lord.

Poof!

A broken green bandana, drenched in red blood, flew through the air. For a moment, Lee couldn't understand the words.

Suddenly, the time around me seemed to slow to a crawl.

Sure enough, there was a red sword, slithering like a serpent between her twin blades, aiming for her throat, with no resistance, and a man standing in her way, pulling her by the scruff of the neck in that desperate moment. The man's sword made a hissing noise and burst into flames as it parried the living sword, cold as the breath of the Grim Reaper. Sparks flew in all directions.

The man in front of her was having a hard time blocking the sword of an old man dressed in navy blue. The man in front of her drew another sword and parried the old man's blade, which felt like a pair of evil scissors interlocked together.

At that moment, with a sharp friction sound, a blood-red sword shot up into the air like a straight line cut off.

Poof!

A strange, deafening sound echoed through the air.

In the back of his mind, Lee Jin-sul watched the nightmare that was now unfolding before his eyes, a nightmare that included the antics of a very ill-tempered mongoose.

The green band that held his light brown hair in place snapped, and the man's hair came loose in all its glory, spilling over his shoulders. His once neatly coiffed hair fell loose and scattered in the blood-scented breeze like a man on death row. A single, reddish trickle of blood ran from between his brows, down the bridge of his nose, across his cheeks, and under his strong-looking chin.

Thump!

Hyo-Ryong's knees folded in half, and he slumped to the ground.

"Kaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Finally, a pitiful scream erupted from Iinsul's mouth. Her mind was drowning in unbearable grief, despair, and terror, and her body felt as heavy as a submerged cotton ball.

Her mind was a tangled web of confusion as to what terrible things were happening around her now, or had just happened, and it was impossible to judge or analyze. The sky was falling, her body was collapsing, and inky darkness filled her vision.

Lee Jin-sul rushed forward and picked up Hyo-ryong, who had fallen forward. Hyo-Ryong's eyes were still wide open, but his pupils were already unfocused. She screamed in a bloodshot voice for help. In the distance, she could see Mo Yonghui, Yin Dao, and the Ice Sword Elder running toward her, but her ears couldn't hear what she was shouting, or what those people running toward her were shouting.

However, the commotion was clearly audible to Bi Ryuyeon on the cliff.

Dongfang Hak looked at his sword with a puzzled expression. The hilt of the twin swords that had just blocked his sword was somehow familiar to him. He had once fought a martial artist who felt this way, and the memory was so vivid that he could never forget it. Even if the river changed ten times, how could he forget one of the three martial artists who had brought him to the brink of death!

"Is it really the Heavenly Blood Shadow Sword (轟天血影刀)? "

But it was a martial law, not a sword law, and it was impossible for a white man to use it. How could a white dwarf use the martial arts of one who was revered as a black dwarf!

Everything was in doubt.

What did you hear from the military when you came here? 'I'm sure you've been bored lately, and it's been a while since you've gotten some fresh air,' I think I heard them say. Initially, I thought that the proposed plan could be accomplished with minimal sacrifice, even if it meant the annihilation of the Heavenly Martial Academy delegation.

And now he watched his judgment shatter before his eyes, and it was so unexpected.

"How did they get to this point?

A twinge of wariness began to form in his mind. A few hours ago, they had always been trash, scum that could be swept away at will, but now things had changed, and they had been elevated to the level of a few stray beasts. But his thoughts didn't last long.

He didn't have time to react, because the cold, glowing blade of Iceblade flew at his throat with unearthly speed.

Her head jerked downward. It was quite a distance away, but it didn't matter to her. She could see the small figure of Yi Yun struggling with someone in his arms, but the twin swords the fallen young man was carrying were very familiar. The hilt of one of Bi Ryuyeon's swords twitched like a flash of lightning.

And when she shifted her gaze a little further to the side, her anger exploded. He could see Na Yerin standing beside the furious Lee Jin-sul, struggling to fend off a tidal wave of vicious dao.

His eyes turned golden and shone like the sun.

Taking advantage of Bi Ryuyeon's distraction, Mo Shaolin lunged at her, shouting the clichéd line, "Die!" only to be stopped in his tracks by Bi Ryuyeon's sun-like eyes. It was a mental shock, not a physical one.

He could feel the question creeping up on him now, "Am I doing something terribly wrong, am I making a huge mistake?

He had a very ominous feeling that he was right. At the same time, he felt a tremendous, unknown force wash over him, and before its power he was but a small mantis, barely standing in the way of an accelerated chariot drawn by six jun horses.

Spitting out the handful of dirt in his mouth, he opened his eyes again to find himself looking out over a bluish-black sky. He tried to move, but the excruciating pain that shot through his body told him he couldn't lift a finger right now. I'm sure you can agree that this is very useful information, but it also sucks.

Another calm observation revealed that he was now embedded in the ground, leaving a long furrow as a memento of his passage.

I felt like a wart crushed by a running cart.

Beep!

At that moment, a blue-feathered king of the skies, the Haedongcheng thunderhawk, glided through the air.

Touche!

He could sense that something warm, sticky, and salty had fallen from the sky onto his face. A strange, fetid, sickening odor instantly assaulted his sense of smell. He wished he could scream out of this horrible nightmare, but he could barely find his voice.

Having just been relieved of his constipation and confirmed his healthy bowel movements with a refreshing bowel movement, Thunderhawk could see a long ditch about three zhangs deep, with a human skeleton at the end of it like the point of a painted dragon, and all around the ditch, trees had been blown down in all directions as if in a vicious storm.

He knew it was the work of his master, and he wept with deep pride over the fact.

"Beep!"

It was the opposite cliff from where Bi Ryuyeon was standing.