"They ran?"
Gong Yu frowned. "Didn't they just set up camp a few days ago? They were barely settled, and now they've pulled out? Could someone in our ranks have leaked information early? No… impossible. Even we didn't know about the attack ahead of time—there was no chance for a leak."
"It must be that Tong Xiaochu sensed something," Zhong Wuxin said grimly. "As the saying goes, 'Mend the pen before the sheep are lost—better late than never.'"
"This isn't that Tong brat's doing."
Han Xiang wasn't angry at the unexpected turn in his plan. Instead, excitement flickered in his eyes. "The real player has finally joined the game."
"Player?"
Zhong Wuxin asked, "Immortal Master, you mean… Chen Sanshi? He's here?"
"Impossible," Gong Yu said with certainty. "According to our reports, the Great Sheng court fears Chen Sanshi's power might overshadow the emperor. They didn't send him this time at all. Most of the Northern Liang Army has already been moved east, while Chen Sanshi and his Hongze Battalion are still stationed in Liangzhou."
"Do you understand," Han Xiang said, his gaze fixed on the distant flames, voice calm but filled with quiet authority, "when a true chess master senses the perfect board laid before him, he will always come to play—no matter what. Especially when he sees that the one sitting in his place… is a fool."
"Immortal Master, it's better if Chen Sanshi doesn't come," Zhong Wuxin said anxiously. "Right now, we should strike while we have the advantage. Immortal Master, please give the order."
"This time," Han Xiang said leisurely, his hands clasped behind his back as he paced slowly, "though that Tong brat came to his senses after Chen Sanshi's warning and withdrew most of his troops in time, their supply wagons and provisions couldn't have been moved fast enough.
"In their hasty retreat, they'll surely set up an ambush to stop our pursuit. The ambush will be at Huangfeng Ridge along Jingxing Road.
"Zhong Wuxin, take your light cavalry, circle around to the ridge, and when you see the fire signal, strike from the east.
"After that—
"The Commander-in-Chief Army will have lost two battles in a row.
"Tong Xiaochu will be desperate to stabilize the situation. He'll withdraw another two hundred li eastward to the city of Lishi Prefecture, which has a protective moat. The city's garrison commander, Yue Biao, has a son with a top-grade wood spiritual root—one of my disciples. Yue Biao has long hesitated to surrender to us, believing the Commander-in-Chief Army would win. But now that Tong Xiaochu's forces have been crushed, he'll turn coat immediately.
"If Lishi Prefecture refuses them entry, Tong Xiaochu will have no choice but to move toward Shanhua Prefecture.
"By then, after three defeats in a row, that Tong brat will be half-crazed. Zhong Wuxin, all you need to do is take a detachment and appear on the plains fifty li outside Shanhua Prefecture. Raise your Western Qi banners high. The sight alone will scare him witless, forcing him to flee again.
"He'll keep retreating all the way to Yunduan Prefecture, where he'll finally hold out with reinforcements and the natural terrain.
"By then—
"He'll have lost a thousand li and one hundred thousand soldiers."
As he spoke, Han Xiang's tone was calm, his gaze unwavering. But every word painted a picture of the next two months, as if he already knew exactly how the battles would unfold—how his enemies would move, when they would fall, and where they would die.
"Yes, I'll make the arrangements at once," Zhong Wuxin said, not daring to question him. Even if he wanted to, it wouldn't have mattered. Against the "War Immortal," doubt was meaningless. All that remained was obedience.
—
Jingxing Road.
Two days earlier.
The two hundred thousand soldiers of the Commander-in-Chief Army had already begun their retreat. From a distance, the endless stream of men and horses stretched so far that it seemed to merge with the horizon.
Qu Yuanxiang rode on horseback, tossing aside the wine the soldiers had brought him. "Rotgut! You call this wine? You trying to poison your immortal master?" he snarled.
Beside him, Wang Jun rose into the air now and then to scout for any cultivators from Southern Xu that might be tailing them.
"Commander Tong," Teng Le said, glancing back uneasily at the wildfire that had been burning for two full days and nights without dying down, still spreading across the mountains. "It's a good thing you gave the retreat order a day early. Otherwise, all two hundred thousand of us across those eight hundred li of camps would've been reduced to ash. But… why did you suddenly change your mind?"
"Well…" Tong Xiaochu kept his face calm, though his heart raced. "That night, while staring at the candle flame, inspiration struck me. I realized the enemy might use fire as their weapon. So I ordered the retreat."
"Fortune favors the wise! Thanks to your quick thinking, that so-called 'War Immortal's' plan failed completely! It seems he's not so invincible after all!" Teng Le said. "Commander, what are your next orders?"
"Keep retreating. Find a place to rest and resupply," Tong Xiaochu said firmly. "I predict that Han Xiang will definitely want to pursue and press his advantage. So send a detachment to lay an ambush at Huangfeng Ridge. We might just turn this to our favor."
"Yes, sir!"
Teng Le galloped off to carry out the order.
Meanwhile, Tong Xiaochu quietly wiped the sweat from his palms on his horse's mane.
That Han Xiang had used the scorching summer heat to his advantage—advancing by retreating, luring them step by step into the Yiling region. There, surrounded by mountains, he'd feigned weakness to bait them into camping where they were most vulnerable.
If not for Chen Sanshi's letter—
He and his two hundred thousand men would've been buried alive in Yiling by now.
Commanding an army this size… was no easy feat.
Only now did Tong Xiaochu truly understand the saying, "One incompetent general dooms three armies." As commander, one mistake from him meant countless deaths.
That weight… was like a mountain pressing down on his shoulders.
At least they'd escaped Yiling's inferno. From here on, there would be no large-scale collapse. He could finally steady himself—and properly pit his wits against that War Immortal, Han Xiang.
—
Twenty days later.
Capital City. Zhongjue Hall.
"Report!"
"Urgent report!"
The palace doors burst open, and a breathless officer stumbled inside.
"The frontlines have fallen back!" he shouted. "Twenty days ago, the War Immortal Han Xiang of Southern Xu set Yiling's eight hundred li of linked camps ablaze!"
"What?!"
Upon hearing the report, Minister of War Ming Qingfeng was struck with sudden realization before pounding his chest in regret. "Foolish—utterly foolish of us! We've been too far from Luozhou and overlooked the arid, scorching climate of the Yiling region! Setting camp among mountains and forests may help avoid the heat and make use of natural defenses, but if the enemy resorts to fire attacks, wouldn't our entire army turn to ash? Fortunately, Tong Xiaochu sensed the danger and withdrew in time, preventing a far greater disaster!"
"Fortune within misfortune, a narrow escape indeed!"
The Imperial Prince Regent, Cao Huan, let out a sigh of relief. "Tong Xiaochu truly lives up to the Tong family's name. His command on the battlefield is quite skillful. Still, it's a pity. After so much effort pushing into Yiling, we're retreating again. At this rate, who knows how long it'll take to reclaim the two prefectures?"
"Why not summon General Chen already?"
At the side of the hall, Cao Zhi reclined lazily on a chair, eating chilled watermelon. "It's not too late to ask for help now."
"No need!"
Ming Qingfeng raised his hand. "The fact that Tong Xiaochu saw through the War Immortal's trap and withdrew from Yiling shows his ability is in no way inferior to that so-called War Immortal's. I believe he can stabilize the situation."
"Minister Ming is right," said Yin Mingchun, nodding in agreement. "It proves our Great Sheng Dynasty is not lacking in talented young generals!"
"A collapse of a thousand li, a collapse of a thousand li!"
Cao Zhi casually tossed away his watermelon rind.
"Twelfth Brother, how many times must you shake the army's morale with such words?" Cao Huan frowned in irritation. "If you keep talking like this, I'll have no choice but to punish you!"
"Alright, alright," Cao Zhi said lazily. "Just wait and see—Yiling's defeat is only the beginning."
—
"Commander Tong, bad news! Terrible news!"
"We went to Huangfeng Ridge as ordered, but the enemy was already waiting!"
"We're the ones who walked into the ambush!"
"We lost eight thousand soldiers at Huangfeng Ridge—one at the Profound Manifestation stage, two at the Meridian-Connecting stage, all dead!"
"Another Western Qi detachment flanked us from the end of Jingxing Road—they're closing in fast! If we don't act now, we won't make it out alive!"
"Commander Tong, what should we do?!"
Seeing the battered remnants of his troops stumble back, sweat rolled down Tong Xiaochu's forehead in thick drops. His voice trembled slightly. "Quick! Bring me the map!"
"Clatter!"
Two soldiers spread open the campaign map before him.
"Lishi Prefecture!"
After a brief analysis, Tong Xiaochu pressed two fingers down on a city marked on the map. "We'll abandon the main road and take the smaller paths to Lishi Prefecture. The city's walls are strong, provisions are ample, and there's a protective moat. Since the summer and autumn are dry, there's no risk of them flooding the city. It'll help us stabilize the situation!"
"Brilliant plan, Commander!"
"Move out!"
"Inform the vanguard to turn immediately—head for Lishi Prefecture!"
—
Fifteen days later.
Before the gates of Lishi Prefecture—
"Commander Tong, something's wrong!"
"The city's garrison commander, Yue Biao, refuses to open the gates and let us in!"
"What?!"
Tong Xiaochu's expression darkened. He spurred his horse forward and rode straight to the city gate. Drawing his sword, he shouted furiously, "Yue Biao! Are you insane? Open the gates, now!"
"General Tong!"
A middle-aged officer stood atop the wall and called down, "To tell you the truth, I, Yue, have already sworn allegiance to the Immortal Master of the Great Xu Kingdom! Out of our past friendship, I won't strike at the Commander-in-Chief Army for one day. But if by tomorrow you're still here, I'll have no choice but to side with Great Xu and wipe you all out!"
"You—you—"
Tong Xiaochu's neck flushed red as veins bulged from his temples. He had never imagined that one of their own cities would turn traitor. Yet there was nothing he could do.
Now they were trapped—enemy forces ahead, pursuers behind. There was no chance of besieging Lishi Prefecture.
"Shanhua Prefecture!"
In desperation, Tong Xiaochu barked, "Quick! Pass the order—everyone moves to Shanhua Prefecture!"
That was the last stronghold that could still stabilize their lines.
Once again, the two hundred thousand strong army changed course.
"How are the reports?"
Tong Xiaochu asked the officer in charge of intelligence. "Has there been any new gold-sealed letter from the Grand Commander's Office? If there has, give it to me—I'll burn it personally."
"Reporting to Commander Tong, none so far."
Tong Xiaochu took a deep breath, feeling the crushing weight press heavier on his shoulders.
Still, it made sense. The battlefield shifted every day, and Chen Sanshi, thousands of li away, wasn't a prophet. He couldn't possibly foresee every twist or constantly send guidance.
Even so, once they reached Shanhua Prefecture, no matter how many Western Qi troops came, they'd be safe.
—
The army marched on.
Another ten thousand men were lost covering the retreat.
Another twenty days passed.
At last, the Commander-in-Chief Army drew near their destination.
"Report—!"
Just as they were within several dozen li of Shanhua Prefecture, a scout drenched in blood stumbled into camp, gasping, "Commander Tong! It's bad—Shanhua Prefecture has fallen!"
"Impossible!"
Tong Xiaochu's eyes widened. "The city's commander was, like me, a descendant of the Twelve Generals of Qilin Pavilion! Even if his family declined, they've been loyal for ten generations—how could he possibly surrender?!"
"It's true, Commander!"
The scout, pale and trembling from the horrors of constant retreat, stammered, "The only road leading to Shanhua Prefecture is lined with Western Qi banners. I couldn't count them all, but their numbers are massive—at least fifty thousand troops, maybe more!"
Tong Xiaochu's face twitched violently, unable to speak for a long while.
"Commander, it must be true," Teng Le said, covered in dust and grime. "Otherwise, why would the Western Qi army be stationed right in front of us? If Shanhua's garrison was still loyal, they'd fear being trapped between our forces and theirs! As for loyalty—remember the seven generations of loyal ministers from the Qing Kingdom? They still bowed to the White Robe in the end! These men just want higher positions. Commander, we must retreat now—if we don't, we'll all die here!"
"Retreat again…"
Tong Xiaochu grabbed the map, staring at their current position. He swallowed hard. "If we fall back again, there'll be no more fortified cities behind us. We'll have to retreat all the way east of Yunduan Prefecture. Which means… the entire Ping Prefecture will be gone!"
He had led his troops for two months—and lost an entire province.
"We still have to retreat," Teng Le urged. "Otherwise, the one hundred sixty thousand soldiers we have left will all die here!"
"Damn it—retreat!!"
Tong Xiaochu ground his teeth, snatching up the campaign map and hurling it to the ground.
Even so, their retreat was a bloody one.
"Bad news, Commander!"
"There's an ambush ahead!"
"Commander, we've lost eight thousand men!"
"Another five thousand dead, and one of our great generals slain!"
"Twenty thousand soldiers lost!"
"Commander, the front collapsed!"
"They're everywhere—enemy troops on all sides!"
The retreat turned into chaos. No matter which route they took, there were ambushes waiting. The Commander-in-Chief Army of Great Sheng was beaten again and again, falling back ever eastward.
One defeat followed another—a thousand li of retreat!
After a long, disastrous march, the battered army finally stopped in a mountain valley to rest.
Suddenly, a gust of wind swept through the ravine, carrying the distant cry of cranes.
The weary soldiers jolted in fear, thinking the pursuers had caught up again, and scrambled to flee.
Every rustling sound in the grass, every whisper of leaves sent them into panic—seeing phantoms of ambushes where there were none.
They were truly terrified—haunted by wind and cranes, trembling at every sound.
"Commander! Urgent report from Shanhua Prefecture—they didn't rebel!"
"They didn't rebel?!"
The news came late—too late.
Tong Xiaochu nearly fell off his horse from shock and rage.
"Han Xiang—you cunning bastard!"
His chest felt like it was on fire, the pressure mounting until he could hardly breathe. His vision swam, the edges darkening. Though he cursed the Immortal Master aloud, his body was at its limit.
This was pressure—the oppressive will of the War Immortal.
The entire campaign had become a nightmare.
Tong Xiaochu felt as though the world itself had turned into a massive chessboard. Some unseen hand was moving all the pieces—friend and foe alike. He was supposed to be a player in this game of war, yet somehow, he too had become just another piece.
"Commander Tong, are you alright?"
Seeing his pallor, Teng Le rushed forward to support him.
"I'm fine…"
Tong Xiaochu drew several long breaths, forcing his trembling hands to steady. After a long moment, his voice returned—weak, like that of a man recovering from grave illness. "Keep retreating."
—
Ten days later.
The Commander-in-Chief Army finally abandoned Ping Prefecture entirely and fell back to Yunduan Prefecture in Jia Prefecture, halting their retreat at last.
By now, of the original two hundred thousand men, only half remained.
In less than half a year since the war began in the western borderlands, three entire provinces had been lost in succession.
"Quick! This is my resignation letter," Tong Xiaochu said urgently. "Use the Skyhawk courier—make it the highest priority! Deliver it to the Ministry of War immediately, and tell them to summon Grand Commander Chen to take command at once!"
—
Capital City, Zhongjue Hall.
For twenty straight days, the palace received new defeat reports every morning.
"Huangfeng Ridge ambushed—our army crushed!"
"Lishi Prefecture's commander betrayed us—our army crushed!"
"What's going on here?!"
Minister of War Ming Qingfeng slammed the memorial to the floor in fury. "What in Heaven's name is Tong Xiaochu doing?! Before the fire at Yiling, he was cautious and steady! How did he suddenly turn into a complete fool? Behead him! He should be executed!"
"You're right—he must be executed!"
Yan Maoxing shouted, face red with anger. "Forty thousand! Do you know how many years and how much silver the court spent training those troops? Less than two months, and they're gone! He's a disgrace to the Tong family of the Qilin Pavilion! If I were him, I'd be too ashamed to live!"
"Yes, he should die—but…"
Prince Regent Cao Huan's hair had turned noticeably grayer. He sighed heavily. "In our current situation, if we execute him… who can we use instead?"
"The Prince of Zhen'nan is tied down suppressing the Southern Xu rebels, and he's just accepted the surrender of another bandit faction. He can't be moved for now. If there's no other option—what about Lü Ji?" said the Minister of Revenue.
"Lü Ji? Isn't he also one of the Grand Commander's men?"
Yin Mingchun frowned. "This campaign was meant to train our new generation of generals. We can't just keep relying on the old ones."
"What about Xu Wencai?" suggested the Minister of Revenue. "His strategy is unmatched. Perhaps he can face Han Xiang in wits."
"Without the Martial Saint Realm, he'd just be walking to his death!"
Ming Qingfeng shook his head. "Xu Wencai's intelligence is impressive, yes, but he's still just a scholar without strength. This war now involves immortals. Without at least Martial Saint cultivation, he wouldn't even know how he died."
"I already told you,"
Cao Zhi said lazily, lying on a cool mat as two palace maids fanned him. "Just send General Chen."
"No!"
Ming Qingfeng refused outright, slamming his hand against the armrest. "Must we rely on Chen Sanshi for everything?! Is the Great Sheng Dynasty truly so helpless without him?! Give Tong Xiaochu one last chance! Tell him—he must stabilize the front, at any cost!"
Cao Zhi only sighed and shook his head. "You'll regret this."
—
Another twenty days passed.
Each new battle report that arrived turned the court's faces darker and darker.
"General Tong fell into Han Xiang's trap at Shanhua Prefecture—forced to retreat and abandon Ping Prefecture."
"Along the way, ambushed again and again."
"Soldiers terrified—seeing enemies in wind and grass."
"Only ten days ago did he reach Yunduan Prefecture and halt the collapse."
"As of now—"
"Half of the two hundred thousand troops lost. The entirety of Ping Prefecture has fallen."
Crash!
The teacup slipped from Prince Regent Cao Huan's trembling hands and shattered into countless porcelain shards. His vision went black, and he nearly collapsed, saved only by two eunuchs who rushed forward to steady him.
The ministers—especially those from the Ministry of War—were pale as death.
"Trash!"
"That useless fool Tong Xiaochu!"
Yan Maoxing's fury boiled over. "We sent him to reclaim Luo and Mu Prefectures, and in less than three months, not only did he fail to take them back, he lost another province!
"Two hundred thousand troops—one hundred thousand dead!
"Is he a pig?!"
This time—
It was he who had recommended Tong Xiaochu's appointment.
Now that such a disastrous defeat had occurred, he too had to bear responsibility.
After his initial fury subsided, Ming Qingfeng calmed down. He stood over the sand table and the map, reviewing the entire campaign. Even though he was thousands of li away from the battlefield, he could still feel an overwhelming sense of helplessness.
Han Xiang.
Terrifying beyond words.
Every move he made, every stratagem he devised—each linked flawlessly with the next, leaving not the slightest chance to fight back.
In his heart, Ming Qingfeng asked himself: even if he had been the one commanding at the front instead of Tong Xiaochu, would the outcome have been any different? The answer was painfully clear. He too would have lost.
What was most frightening… was not just Han Xiang's brilliance, but his composure.
He hadn't just won—he had won effortlessly.
If one were to compare this to a chess game, then it was like a world-renowned grandmaster playing against a beginner child. The gap between them was not merely wide—it was like the distance between heaven and earth.
Truly worthy of the title—
War Immortal!
The same War Immortal who once destroyed seven nations!
This time, the Great Sheng Dynasty was facing a true War Immortal—one whose wisdom was unmatched and whose martial prowess was equally formidable.
How could anyone stand against such a man?
"Perhaps…"
Yin Mingchun spoke cautiously. "We could send General Lü Ji, Xu Wencai, and General Fang, who's still recovering in the capital. If those three join forces, they might stand a chance against Han Xiang."
"No," Ming Qingfeng said, shaking his head, his face dark with worry. "If we move Lü Ji and Xu Wencai, what about the eastern front? Are we just going to leave it undefended?"
"Quickly—"
Amid the rising argument among the ministers, the weak voice of the Prince Regent suddenly broke through, giving the final word on the matter.
"Quickly… send for the Chan Sanshi in Liangzhou. Have him take command!"
—
At that very moment, while the court debated the war, Chen Sanshi was aboard a great ship sailing up the river toward Liangzhou.
Inside the cabin, a deep blue spirit pearl floated midair, radiating gentle spiritual energy throughout the room.
He sat cross-legged in his white robe, facing a young girl in a yellow dress. Both were immersed in their cultivation.
Chen Sanshi's hands formed seals, and from the tips of his fingers, small violet swords began to take shape—one after another. With each breath, their numbers grew, their forms sharpening until real inscriptions glimmered faintly along their edges.
Then, before him, faint script appeared:
Spell: Ten Thousand Swords Descend · Tier 2
Progress: 0 / 2000
Effect: …, Sword Storage: 20
Before this, his Sword Qi Technique could only condense ten swords in advance. Now, after breaking through, that number had doubled.
Without rest, Chen Sanshi moved immediately into his next spell.
Before him, a shield materialized—formed by gathering the earth element's qi from heaven and earth. From a distance, it resembled a massive black earthen wall.
"Crack—"
Suddenly, fissures spread across its surface. Thin cracks raced outward like veins of lightning until they covered the entire shield. Then, dazzling golden light burst from the seams, binding the fragments together.
Rather than shattering, the shield seemed to grow even stronger, its surface pulsing with strange spiritual energy.
Spell: Thick Earth Art (Mastery)
Progress: 0 / 1000
Effect: …, Shock Rebound — Reflects enemy spells up to a certain threshold
Shock Rebound!
He needed to test it to see exactly how effective it was.
"Hey, little pest."
Chen Sanshi reached out and flicked the forehead of the girl sitting opposite him.
Startled by the sting, Zhao Zhao jolted out of her meditation.
Before she could snap at him in anger, Chen Sanshi said, "Use one of your spells. Attack me."
"Eh?"
Zhao Zhao froze mid-motion, her eyes lighting up. "You won't fight back?"
"I won't."
Chen Sanshi gave his word.
"Alright then!"
Zhao Zhao jumped up, her hands clumsily forming seals. A pale blue sword slowly condensed in front of her, humming crisply with spiritual energy.
The Sword Qi Technique—a spell Chen Sanshi had taught her during their long, boring journey.
Spiritual power surged, and the sword shot forward with a shrill whistle.
Before it reached him, a wall covered in golden cracks rose up in front of Chen Sanshi.
"Buzz!"
The Sword Qi slammed into it—and bounced straight back like a rock striking stone.
Caught off guard, Zhao Zhao yelped and hurriedly summoned her flying sword to deflect it.
The two forces collided midair.
Her sword shattered into light, and she was sent sprawling onto the floor, landing on her backside with a loud thud. The pain nearly split her in two.
"Thanks."
With a casual slam, Chen Sanshi closed the cabin door, locking her outside.
Ignoring her indignant shouting, he sat back on his meditation cushion, replaying every detail of the exchange in his mind.
The rebound has limits, he noted. It depends on the difference in cultivation. Against someone stronger, it won't work. But against those of equal level… it's deadly.
Having mastered two spells, Chen Sanshi now drew out the jade slip for Swallowing Fire Art.
After skimming its contents, he swallowed a Yellow Dragon Pill, then closed his eyes and began his practice.
Inside the cabin, threads of spiritual energy flowed through the air, drawn into his body by his spiritual root. The qi circulated through his meridians before finally condensing into spiritual power within his dantian.
This time, however, he could clearly feel the difference—the speed of cultivation was significantly faster!
Among his Five Elemental Roots, metal, wood, water, and earth were all dormant. Only his inferior-grade fire spiritual root remained active.
If spiritual roots were like saplings and heaven-and-earth qi the nourishment, then before, when cultivating normally, Chen Sanshi's qi had to feed five saplings at once.
Now, with Swallowing Fire Art, he needed to nourish only one—the fire sapling.
The result was obvious.
His cultivation speed soared—several times faster than before.
Moreover—
Chen Sanshi could clearly feel it. His spiritual root was growing.
At this pace, with each breakthrough through the early, middle, and late stages of the Qi Refinement Realm, it would evolve further. It wouldn't take too long before he achieved the state of a single spiritual root genius.
The immortal path was finally within reach!
After two months at sea, the efficiency of his single-root absorption, combined with the Yellow Dragon Pill, had made his progress visible to the naked eye.
Technique: Swallowing Fire Art · Qi Refinement Stage Two
Progress: 100 / 500
Effect: None for now
But even as his cultivation in spellcraft rose, Chen Sanshi didn't forget his true foundation—his martial path. Most of his time was still devoted to body cultivation.
He took out a Mirror God Fruit.
The dark-red fruit wasn't freshly picked but had been specially processed. It looked more like a dried fruit, and its taste was bitter beyond words.
For warriors like him, who'd long since grown accustomed to choking down foul-tasting tonics, this was nothing.
Chen Sanshi swallowed it in one bite. A flash of silver gleamed in his hand as he gripped his Dragon-Gall Bright Silver Spear and began cultivating the next stage—the True Force Realm.
To enter True Force, one must first open the Spirit of Vision!
Only by opening the Spirit of Vision could one awaken the divine spirits within the flesh.
As his cultivation method began to circulate, the Mirror God Fruit in his stomach melted like spiritual energy. It flowed through his limbs and bones, entering his meridians and cycling through them again and again, tempering his body from within.
During this process, Chen Sanshi could clearly sense the hidden mysteries within the human body.
They were…
The divine spirits within the flesh!
Inside the mortal frame—there existed countless gods.
But these gods… were corpses.
Dead and silent.
Their divine power remained, yet because humans were born into a world filled with chaotic, impure qi, these body-gods were stillborn—present but lifeless, unable to act.
Until now.
The refined essence of the Mirror God Fruit became like rain after a long drought, falling upon the desolate inner body.
Life stirred once more.
Within him, the empty "shrines" of the flesh began to glow faintly—no longer corpses, but sleeping gods.
Once the Spirit of Vision was opened, the next step was to practice techniques that channeled the qi of heaven and earth, awakening each of these dormant divinities one by one.
Within the human body lay—
Three Divisions, Eight Visions, Twenty-Four True Spirits.
At the early True Force Realm, one must awaken the upper division's spirits of vision.
He recited softly as he cultivated:
"Walk the Eight Spirits of Vision within the form,
The Twenty-Four True Spirits arise by nature.
Hold still and high, the soul finds peace,
In pure stillness, the spirit speaks to me."
Inside the cabin, Chen Sanshi gripped his long spear, training day and night without rest.
Until one moment—
A flash of white crossed his mind.
The Spirit of the Brain!
Its name: Jue Yuanzi. Courtesy name: Dao Du. One inch and one point tall—clad in white robes.
Technique: Dragon Sutra (Uninitiated)
Progress: 12 / 100
Effect: None for now
"Phew—"
He exhaled deeply. One of the Eight Spirits of Vision of the Upper Division had awakened.
Once the remaining seven were opened, he would officially step into the True Force Realm.
Both the martial and spiritual paths were long and boundless, often taking years—or even decades—to progress.
Chen Sanshi's spiritual aptitude might be mediocre, but his martial cultivation speed was among the best, even by cultivator standards.
Was it not so?
Many Martial Saints hit their limits and never advanced again.
Take Wei Xuan from Daze Market, for instance. In his youth, he and his partner had been hailed as the greatest martial couple of their generation. Now, at ninety-six, his blood and qi were fading, and he remained stuck at the peak of the Mortal Shedding Realm.
No wonder then—
That martial artists went mad when they saw the Mirror God Fruit.
Compared to spell cultivators, martial cultivators had lifespans nearly identical to ordinary mortals in the early stages.
Which was why they would kill and plunder without hesitation.
"Phew…"
Two months at sea.
Chen Sanshi had spent those two months in seclusion.
Feeling a little stifled, he finally put away his spear and went up to the deck for some air.
Just then—
A bluebird flew in from the east and landed on his arm.
Chen Sanshi chuckled, stroking its chin with a finger. "You delivered it? She ignored you again, didn't she?"
The bluebird nodded furiously, flapping its wings toward the east while chirping indignantly, as if filing a complaint.
Not long ago, Chen Sanshi had written a letter and sent it via the bird to Eastern Qing, hoping to learn more about the state of the spiritual veins—and maybe persuade Eastern Qing to withdraw its armies.
All this endless fighting… only ever led to the same thing—corpses and empty granaries.
Chen Sanshi never feared war, but he never sought it either.
Only a commander truly understood that no matter how great the victory, countless families would lose their hope.
Unfortunately—
His sister-in-law hadn't replied.
So there was nothing more he could do.
Chen Sanshi could only hope the war would end soon.
These past few years had been nothing but endless conflict.
Even Liangzhou's people were struggling to meet the grain levies, let alone those from other regions.
When the nation thrives, the people suffer. When the nation falls, the people still suffer.
"Old Qin," Chen Sanshi asked, "what's the situation in Yiling now?"
"News from five days ago," Qin Changxu replied. "After the Commander-in-Chief Army lost at Yiling, they've been retreating nonstop. That Western Qi War Immortal, Han Xiang, hit them so hard they're now jumpy at every sound. The entire Ping Prefecture—twenty-eight districts—has fallen. They only managed to stabilize temporarily in Jia Prefecture, but things don't look good. At this rate, if nothing changes, Jia Prefecture will fall within half a year."
"Tch. I really don't know what the court's thinking,"
grumbled a one-armed old man fishing nearby. "It's obvious that the Tong brat isn't his match. Yet they'd rather lose one hundred thousand troops than send for our Grand Commander. Against a War Immortal, only a War Saint can stand!"
"You said it, Old Li,"
Qin Changxu said, "You'll see. By the time we return to Liangzhou, we'll probably run right into the imperial decree—inviting our Grand Commander to take command. Once this war's over, they'll finally realize the Great Sheng Dynasty can't function without the Grand Commander's Office."
"That'd make things even worse," the one-armed old man muttered. "If our Grand Commander had stepped in from the start and ended this chaos early, maybe the court would've been pleased. But now, after such a disaster—if he wins, they won't be grateful. They'll just resent him even more."
"What do you mean by that?" Qin Changxu asked.
"You'll understand soon enough," the old man replied.
—
Eastern Qing.
Over two hundred thousand troops of the Qing Kingdom stood deployed along the frontier, locked in a tense standoff against the Northern Liang and Eastern Garrison Armies.
Chen Duhe, wearing a ceremonial lion costume—the Qing royal emblem—stumbled up to the golden dragon throne, head tilted upward as he mumbled to the woman seated above him in a black gown. "Auntie… Fei…"
The Empress didn't look up. Her crimson-painted fingers flipped through memorials one after another.
"Fei…"
Chen Duhe tugged on the hem of her dress.
"Didn't you hear me?"
Her cold voice cut through the air without her lifting her head. "Take the Crown Prince to play. Don't let him bother me."
"Senior Sister,"
said the young cultivator standing before her. "I came here to discuss the spiritual veins, not to babysit your child."
"I said go."
Her tone sharpened, leaving no room for argument.
"Alright, alright…"
The cultivator clearly feared her. He grabbed the boy by the scruff of his neck and shot into the sky with his flying sword. "Hold on tight, brat!"
"Little sister."
Gu Xinlan entered from the side door, speaking softly. "You're really going to war with Great Sheng again? I heard Lü Ji and his men have already reached the border. If this keeps going, will they bring Shige'er there too?"
"Big Sis, please stop bringing this up every day,"
the Empress said flatly, tossing aside the memorial. "I already promised you—no matter what happens, I'll spare his life. Isn't that enough?"
"What? That's not what I meant."
Gu Xinlan explained quickly, "I'm just worried that if the old emperor of Great Sheng really sends Shige'er to the front, our Qing Kingdom will suffer too. Even if we win, the losses will be enormous."
—
Liangzhou.
Grand Commander's Residence.
Eunuch Hou, the imperial inspector, arrived with a squad of guards, hurrying to the gates.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
He struck the door ring hard.
Moments later, Steward Wu appeared, pushing the gate open. "Oh, Eunuch Hou! What's got you pounding the door like that?"
"Oh, heavens above, Steward Wu, finally! I've been waiting forever!"
Eunuch Hou was out of breath. "So? Tell me—has the Grand Commander finished his closed cultivation yet?"
"Nope,"
Steward Wu replied. "Our Grand Commander is still in seclusion."
"Then how much longer? You've got to give me a date at least!"
Eunuch Hou paced in frustration. "The front lines are in chaos, everything's urgent! You can't expect me to just sit here! Steward Wu, can't you at least inform the Grand Commander?"
"How could we interrupt him while he's cultivating?!"
Steward Wu scowled. "If he's at a critical moment and we break his concentration, he could suffer a backlash and cripple his meridians! Who's going to take that responsibility—you?"
He folded his arms, standing firm. "Besides, didn't the court say before that the Grand Commander could focus on training in peace? You all swore up and down that this campaign didn't need our office."
"Plans can't keep up with change!"
Eunuch Hou snapped. Losing patience, he moved toward the gate. "Fine, if you're too scared to tell him, I'll do it myself!"
"Stop right there!"
Steward Wu's expression darkened. "Eunuch Hou, the Grand Commander gave strict orders—no one enters the residence without permission. Go back!"
But in desperation, Eunuch Hou stamped his foot, pushing off the ground—his body rose sharply as he tried to leap over the courtyard wall.
He didn't make it far.
Steward Wu's entire body flared with protective qi, his palm thrusting out like a dragon bursting from the sea.
"Boom!"
The force smashed through the air, and Eunuch Hou barely managed to block it before being thrown backward, landing hard in front of the gate.
"Eunuch!"
Steward Wu barked, face red with anger. "Did you forget the rule set down years ago?! No one from the court sets foot inside the Grand Commander's residence without authorization—not one step!"
"That was under Grand Commander Sun's time, not under Grand Commander Chen!"
Eunuch Hou glared back. "Besides, I only wanted to deliver an urgent message! You attacked me—don't you think that's going too far?!"
Something felt off.
This so-called seclusion had lasted over half a year.
Martial cultivators weren't like immortal ones—they could show their faces occasionally.
Could it be… that Chen Sanshi wasn't even here?
As the imperial inspector, Eunuch Hou's job was to keep tabs on every official in Liangzhou, including the Grand Commander himself.
"Enough talk!"
Steward Wu's expression turned cold. "You're not taking one step inside today!"
"You—"
Eunuch Hou had just opened his mouth when a calm, steady voice sounded from within.
"Uncle Wu, who are you fighting with again? You really need to work on that temper."
A figure in a flowing white robe stepped out from behind the gates. "Eunuch Hou? What's going on here?"
"Grand Commander Chen! Finally, you've come out!"
Eunuch Hou's frustration vanished at once, replaced by relief. "I bring an imperial order! The Ministry of War commands you to head to Jia Prefecture at once—take command of the Commander-in-Chief Army, and lead the western campaign against the Immortal Foe!"