The distant echoes of Peking opera still lingered in Li Mo's ears. A biting wind whipped against his face, stirring the dark sea of enemy formations like ripples across a lake—each ripple a grotesque, flickering manifestation of savage totemic spirits.
How did the next verse go?
His memory blurred. There was no time to dwell on it now.
Crash—
He charged headlong into the enemy ranks, the might of sixty armored battalions surging through him like divine power. His starlit staff swept forth a gale of force, instantly shredding dozens of warriors bolstered by totemic blessings into a crimson mist, until the assault was halted by the shield of a monstrous turtle totem.
The spray of blood still carried fading warmth.
Like the tip of a spear, he plunged deep into the carnage of flesh and steel, carving a path toward his target.
The cacophony of shattering armor, dissolving flesh, and the roars of totemic spirits melded into chaos.
"Avenge the young chieftain!"
A towering figure clad in heavy armor burst through a wall of rattan shields, his exposed skin hardened into a shell, the same monstrous turtle totem flickering behind him.
He was akin to an inner-realm martial master—though he had no inner realm of his own. Everything he was had been devoted to the totem spirit; the spirit was his inner realm.
With a roar, he swung a long-handled golden mace, the force of the blow accompanied by the bellowing of the turtle totem.
Clang—
A deafening metallic crash shook the earth.
The mace exploded into fragments under Li Mo's strike, the shards piercing dozens of rattan-armored warriors. Its wielder met the same fate as Helian Wu—even the turtle totem flickered violently, its form destabilized.
The war colossi moved slowly.
Yet now, four of them stood in his path, each distinct—a towering human-faced serpent, a fiery Zhu Yan, a calamity hound, and the blackwater turtle from before. They bolstered their clans' warriors while lumbering forward like mechanical titans, their massive forms descending like collapsing mountains.
Their targets weren't just Li Mo, but also the Ironwood Cavalry following him into the fray.
If the cavalry fell, the battle formation empowering him would weaken. Then, even if he were at the Outer Scenery realm, he’d be overwhelmed by sheer numbers.
"Anchor the Mountains!"
Li Mo’s cloud-steed kicked up mist, slowing the already sluggish turtle colossus further. The steed galloped up the titan’s pillar-like leg.
One strike.
The force of the battle formation channeled through his weapon, and spiderweb cracks erupted across the ancient bronze. A shockwave burst forth, and the millennia-old colossus groaned before toppling like a felled peak.
The shattered remnants of its gathered faith—countless blackened souls—erupted in a wailing tide.
"The Turtle Sovereign’s totem… shattered?!"
Before the command tent, the Beast Hall Master stood frozen, arms crossed, pupils trembling.
Even an Outer Scenery expert shouldn’t have been able to destroy a war colossus so easily.
Had this brat truly harnessed the full might of thousands of cavalry in formation?
"Not just that."
Han Zhen’s blood-marked arm greedily drank in the battlefield’s carnage.
The Ironwood Cavalry’s formation alone, amplified by the Song of Slaughter, shouldn’t have been enough.
There was something else in that boy—a secret rivaling even the ancestral spirits.
"What is he trying to do?"
The Great Wind Clan’s totem spirit’s gaze flickered uneasily.
As long as their colossi stood, sustained by the faith of their people, they were immortal. But if their idols were shattered, and no one remained to worship them…
The Blackwater Turtle had been on the verge of revival. Now, unless the Imperial Preceptor reforged its idol, it would fade forever.
And if their colossi took a hit from that staff…
"It’s me."
Han Zhen’s face darkened before he suddenly threw his head back in laughter, blood surging with each breath.
"Him? A mere Observing Divinity realm warrior… charging through an army of thousands—"
"—to kill me?!"
The faces of the disaster-beast avatars twisted.
If Han Zhen died—
Who would gather the Great Shang’s fortune? Who would repair the Bronze Divine Tree?
Many of them had been awakened by Han Zhen himself.
Their eyes locked onto the figure in the distance—a lone beacon of unyielding battle-will, cutting through the black tide, unstoppable.
"Bring me that boy’s head!" Han Zhen snarled. "I’ll drink to it!"
The monstrous figures vanished into the temple’s shadows.
"Turtle God!"
The warriors of the Helian clan howled in rage, throwing themselves forward with even greater frenzy.
And the remaining three colossi still loomed—
Scorching heat seared Li Mo’s armor red-hot. Tendrils of blackened souls, remnants of shattered faith, coiled around him, only to be burned away by his battle-will and formation power, their shrieks piercing the air.
But the clinging weight of the souls slowed him—a tactic unlike any martial technique he’d faced.
He couldn’t order the Ironwood Cavalry to retreat now.
A charging rider only stops when dead or victorious.
On the city walls—
"Rongyuan ballistae! Clear a path for the Commander and Young Master Li!"
Wu Lang roared, his bloodied hands gripping the bowstring of the last remaining ballista, muscles straining as he drew it back.
"Loose!"
A storm of projectiles shrieked through the air, slamming into the totemic colossi with bursts of sparks.
The attack didn’t destroy any of them, but it bought time—precious seconds.
And in that sliver of opportunity—
Qu Sheng arrived.
The Ironwood Commander wore no armor, only a white robe, yet he led the charge at the head of his cavalry, his spear carving through foes like a scythe.
His forces had suffered heavy losses, warriors falling every moment.
But his gaze was locked onto the nearest colossus.
With a kick, his snow-white steed, Treading Snow Dragon, shot forward like a fleeting shadow.
Hum—
A spear-light flashed across the battlefield, striking the Zhu Yan colossus’s ankle—its weak point.
Groan—!
The bronze titan wailed as its leg buckled, its massive frame collapsing like a felled tree.
The battlefield trembled.
Then—
Zheng—
The sound of a zither rang out.
The Ironwood Cavalry shifted instantly, their formation transforming into overlapping scales—a coiling dragon of steel.
Li Mo had only recently given Ying Bing the Black Scale Formation.
Yet she hadn’t just mastered it—she’d improved it.
The dragon clashed against the human-faced serpent colossus, sparks flying as scales ground against bronze, the screech of metal on metal setting teeth on edge.
"If you dare break our lines, then stay!"
The calamity hound colossus—the most intelligent of the four—spoke, its voice grating like rusted gears.
It had paused earlier, gathering something—
Now its maw yawned open.
Flames spiraled from the inscriptions across its bronze body, converging into its throat.
Whoosh—
The air itself desiccated in an instant before a swirling dragon of fire erupted toward Li Mo.
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
ver to a world of cultivation and returned invincible. Modern medicine is child's play compared to elixirs; technological might crumbles before true cultivation. My name is Qin Ning, Earth's sole cultivator!
grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)
lan, the Luo family, tracked him down - along with the babies in their arms. Mo Xuan stared pensively at the paternity test results from over a dozen top institutions, both domestic and international, showing a 99.99% match between himself and the two baby girls. At 23, Mo Xuan, a doctoral student, had become the father of two three-year-old children. The kicker? The mothers weren't even the same person! He gradually realized he was being lured step by step into an elaborate trap designed by these two yandere sisters. "Be good, little Xuan. Sister's life belongs to you entirely." "Brother, if you try to run away, I'll have no choice but to tie you up." Mo Xuan: "Do whatever you want, ladies. I give up."
