Volume One: The Chaos of Yanyun Chapter 108: Yanyun Falls, The Divine Emperor Emerges

The fall of the city was the final outcome, yet it was intertwined with countless processes.

The Sand Hawks, under the light of the "Drawing Radiance" phase, fought to the last man. As they fell, they summoned the last of their strength to hurl their sky-like forms outside the city walls, hoping to delay the barbarian advance as much as possible.

The reinforcements led by Li Lin were completely annihilated. No matter how swift the Gale Formation was, it could not move freely through the tidal waves of the enemy. Once they became slightly disjointed, the barbarians seized the opportunity, cutting the formation in half with a single surge. Without the formation, their individual martial prowess was negligible on this battlefield, and soon, nothing remained of them but bones. Perhaps one or two among them had wavered, but in the end, they chose to remain loyal to the battle flag they had sworn to defend. It was the classic fate of a soldier, though one wonders if anyone would be left to collect their remains.

Feng Yang, however, held out for a while—longer, even, than the outer city of Yanyun.

No one knew where this young man had studied the art of war. He crossed the Red Sand River four times, leading the Bohai army—which possessed three times his numbers—on a chase for nearly an entire day. Not only did they suffer heavy losses, but he also nearly breached their main camp with a mere thousand cavalry. The commanding general, terrified, dared not press him too hard, merely trailing the remnants of Feng Yang’s forces from a distance. Unexpectedly, Feng Yang used two battalions to lure them in, while his remaining forces once again galloped around the Red Sand River, nearly piercing the rear guard of the Ripple Pillar. This forced the Bohai side to temporarily halt their siege, and the Ripple Pillar even adjusted its strategic core, elevating the strategic importance of Feng Yang to the same level as the fall of the city itself.

"To think that the shifting sands and wrinkling waters could produce such a talent... is he truly that terrifying?" Wang Ke, the Ripple Pillar, looked at the sand table and sighed softly.

None of the second-tier generals dared to respond.

Feng Qi went without saying; he had single-handedly suppressed the entire younger generation of the Dugu Divine Dynasty, far outstripping them in both knowledge and combat power. And now, there was Feng Yang...

If the Feng family could survive this calamity, and once the two brothers had fully matured, how terrifying would Yanbei become?

"Is the news from the northern frontier accurate?" seeing that no one spoke, Wang Ke asked again.

One of his second-tier generals cupped his hands and spoke cautiously, "A former colleague of mine sent word via carrier pigeon; it should be true."

Wang Ke fell silent for a moment, his gaze toward the north complex. "Then why are those barbarians so indifferent?"

Since it was a carrier pigeon, the transmission speed was naturally slower than that of the barbarians' red hawks. If they had received this news, the barbarian main camp must have received it long ago. Yet, why were they so unmoved?

The barbarian elite had suffered heavy losses—hardly one in ten remained—and both the Great Ming Duke and their ancestral treasure were far from home. The power of their city-protecting array was also nearly exhausted. If things went poorly, they might truly be breached by the Wind-Breath and Vast-Sea battalions. If that happened, it would truly be a farce.

Wang Ke’s eyes narrowed, his vigilance toward the barbarians' intentions deepening, and thus, the offensive against Yanyun’s east gate and Feng Yang slowed even further.

...

Feng Yang pulled his horse to a halt, looking at the distant Bohai camp, doubt rising in his heart. Although he had held the advantage in several skirmishes, the effect on the overall strength was minimal. Wang Ke would not be deterred by this, and the Bohai soldiers were certainly not the type to lose their will to win because of it.

War was not merely a numbers game, but numbers often decided everything. To fight to a stalemate on the battlefield with only ten percent of the enemy’s strength was a feat worthy of being recorded in the annals of war. Feng Yang did not gloat over the current outcome. He knew clearly that while he deserved credit for the current state of the battle, the opposing commander was equally crucial.

*Is he trying to deadlock with me, waiting for Yanyun to be breached by other forces?* Feng Yang thought silently.

"Third Uncle, in your view, is there any hope of victory at the northwest gates?"

Feng Xisha thought of the battle reports from the previous days and shook his head with a heavy expression. "It is as difficult as ascending to heaven."

Feng Yang said, "If we shift the battlefield..."

Feng Xisha was alarmed and stopped him before he could finish. "Impossible!"

Changing formations in the heat of battle, especially with exhausted troops, would lead to certain defeat.

"Human strength has its limits. That you managed to hold off the Bohai army with only ten thousand cavalry is truly commendable, but the fall of Yanyun is an irreversible trend. To foolishly believe that man can conquer heaven will only result in a total collapse. Furthermore, while your tactic of crossing the Red Sand River four times was brilliant, the morale and spirit of your men are severely depleted. If you shift the battlefield, the current grand morale and the will to win will collapse in an instant," Feng Juanlang said coldly from the side. "That would be the final straw that breaks the camel's back."

...

Inside Yanyun City.

Yun Wanyan wore a tassel on her long hair and held a sharp sword as she stepped out of the Yanbei Prince's Mansion. Her white cloak fluttered, blocking the view and the dissuasive words of the nanny behind her. She was like a shooting star, illuminating the sky from the Yanbei Prince's Mansion toward the north gate of Yanyun.

The battle there was at its height.

The Sand Hawks were all dead, but the city defenders were not.

Moming had lost an arm, his blood flowing like a river, his face deathly pale, yet he still managed to cleave his blade into the skull of the barbarian powerhouse he was fighting. In the past, he would have laughed loudly after slaying such a foe, but not today. He didn't even have the strength to laugh, and for the first time, he found even breathing to be an arduous task.

Before he could rush to the next battlefield, a killing intent instantly enveloped him. The next moment, a Great Severing blade descended from the sky, smashing toward his head. He coughed up blood, his eyes filled with reluctance, but he lacked even the strength to raise his arm.

Yun Wanyan appeared between him and the Great Severing blade, her sword shimmering with icy light. Moming felt a profound sense of shame; the masters they were supposed to protect were now appearing on the front lines, shielding them from powerful enemies.

Yun Wanyan did not look back, a faint green fluorescence slowly surfacing on her skin. Moming felt his physical state improve, and then, the wound on his right arm stopped bleeding. The defenders on the city gate had all received some degree of healing. Under the powerful restorative force of the "Dead Wood Springs to Life," many who were dying held onto their lives, many who were severely wounded became lightly wounded, and those who were only lightly wounded were restored to perfect health.

Even more terrifying was that everyone’s mental state improved significantly. With this shift, the north gate momentarily repelled the barbarian assault. Many soldiers, fueled by a sudden, desperate courage, killed several enemies in a row, reached the siege ladders, and pushed them away.

*Huh?*

The chieftain holding the Great Severing blade realized the effect of the person before him and let out a sound of surprise before exerting sudden force. Yun Wanyan was sent flying, and her blade developed fine cracks. She spat out blood, rolled, and stopped her momentum.

The Great Severing blade descended again. She blocked it with her sword, only to be knocked away again. The Medicine Valley was never known for its combat prowess; even the Medicine Saint was considered among the weaker fighters compared to peers of the same level. But the Medicine Valley possessed an extremely strong restorative ability. If nothing else had happened, even if this barbarian with the Great Severing blade had hammered at her for a day and a night, he might not have made her spit blood. The problem was, during the recent chaos in Yanbei, Yun Wanyan had lost the source of her spiritual essence.

She was weak, yet forced by circumstances to stand forward, and she had exhausted the spiritual essence she had been accumulating for over a month in an instant. As the seventh hammer fell, she finally could not hold on and lost consciousness.

The last image before she fainted was a flash of blade light that seemed capable of cleaving the heavens.

Feng Muyun noticed Yun Wanyan’s decline, his focus lost for a split second. As a master who had reached the "Unity of Dao," how could Li Shouli miss such a heaven-sent opportunity? He slashed a blade of light that spanned the sky from the sandstorm formation, splitting the entire city of Yanyun in two.

It did not damage the foundation of the array, but it accelerated the collapse of Yanyun.

A thousand-mile levee collapses from an ant hole.

Countless barbarian soldiers poured in through the rift, howling as they flooded into every street and alley.

Yanyun had fallen.

...

Feng Yue watched this scene, gesturing at the sand table with a faint smile. "The city has fallen."

After his earlier harsh words, Feng Qi’s expression turned calm. He knew the likelihood of Feng Yue letting him go was extremely low, so he simply watched the scene quietly, his focus as intense as if he were in the heart of the battle. He saw Feng Yang’s achievements at the east gate of Yanyun and felt a deep sense of guilt. He saw the perilous situation of Moming and felt his fists clench and tremble.

Then, he saw his mother, and his clenched fists slowly relaxed; his body stopped trembling and returned to calm.

Feng Yue was somewhat surprised. According to his calculations, even if Feng Qi did not fall into demonic possession, he should have been depressed for some time. It seemed he had miscalculated.

He was surprised, yet also pleased. This young man had more potential than he had imagined. If cultivated, he might one day become a like-minded individual.

"Will you merge with your main body in the future?" Feng Qi asked suddenly.

Feng Yue thought for a moment. "No."

"Very well." Feng Qi looked up at Feng Yue. "In that case, I will be able to kill you twice."

Before Feng Yue could react, a point of cold light appeared before his eyes. The spear moved like a dragon, accompanied by the sound of thunder, thrusting straight at his brow.

*Wind-Thunder Sword and Mad Dragon Tremor. Interesting.*

*So this actually works!*

He smiled and shook his head, a fan appearing in his left hand out of nowhere. The spear tip landed on the fan leaf, the impact emitting an explosive sound. Four-cornered vortex-like air currents extended from the point, sharp as blades. Feng Qi was confident; if not for his thorough preparation, even someone who had reached the "Heart-Understanding" stage would have been severely wounded.

But Feng Yue was completely unaffected; the smile on his face did not fade, and his hand holding the fan remained as steady as a mountain. During the Yanbei crisis, he was merely at the "Heart-Understanding" stage, but now he had reached "Drawing Radiance."

Feng Qi was no match for him; he did not even pose a threat. If he wished, he could kill Feng Qi at any moment.

"Displaying one’s temper is human nature; restraining it is a skill. You have a bright future ahead of you. It’s fine to be presumptuous with me, but there are people far stronger than you. If you persist in this way, you might find yourself dying young before your time," Feng Yue said calmly.

Feng Qi did not speak, his eyes shifting as he prepared to change his stance. Feng Yue’s expression flickered; he gently flicked his sleeve, pinning Feng Qi in place, and then turned to look toward a certain spot.

A figure clad in dragon robes slowly appeared in his line of sight, wearing a crown of pearls, the sword at his waist shimmering with gold.

The Dragon Emperor Sword!

The Divine Emperor!

Dugu Xiu!