Seven Hundred Thousand Troops at the Border

The records in the jade slip documented the internal communications from the past three days among seven holy lands, including the Chixiao Holy Land in the Central Plains, Tianjian Mountain, and the Wanfa Sacred Sect. The contents revealed that these seven holy lands had secretly reached a consensus—if the Dark City waged war against the Eastern Wastelands, they would maintain a “benevolent neutrality.”

So-called benevolent neutrality meant they would not help the Dark City, but they would not assist the Eastern Wastelands either.

“That’s impossible,” Holy King Canglong blurted out. “Li Tianxing holds a grudge against you. How could he stay neutral?”

“Because he fears me,” Wang Hao said bluntly.

“On Tianxu Peak, I used nine bolts of heavenly thunder to blast eight war gods and demon gods—including you—into dogs. Now, just hearing my name makes him tremble. How would he dare provoke me? Of the sixteen holy lands in the Central Plains, only Chixiao Holy Land genuinely dares not act. The other fifteen are watching, waiting for me and the Dark City to cripple each other before swooping in to pick the fruit.”

Blasted into dogs? Holy King Canglong’s lip twitched. This young emperor really didn’t mince words—he was deliberately provoking him.

Wang Hao walked up to Holy King Canglong, reached out, and patted the old dragon on the shoulder, making the Holy King’s eyes twitch:

“So, Holy King, your threat that ‘the Central Plains won’t stand idly by’ doesn’t work on me. Do you want a share of the three southern mineral veins? Fine. But the terms aren’t set by you threatening me—I set the price.”

Holy King Canglong fell silent for a moment. “What’s your price?”

“The Southern mineral veins—the demon race can take a stake, but they don’t get ownership,” Wang Hao said, raising three fingers.

“Thirty percent. You supply personnel and funds, participate in the mining and operations, and receive thirty percent of the annual profits. The controlling stake and operational authority remain with the Eastern Wastelands.”

“Thirty percent?” Holy King Canglong’s voice turned cold. “Your Majesty, you’re treating me like a beggar.”

“Holy King, hear me out,” Wang Hao said unhurriedly.

“Taking a stake in the Southern mineral veins is only the first step. If our cooperation goes smoothly, the demon race can invest in all newly discovered mineral veins across the Eastern Wastelands, and the ratio is negotiable. Of course, the doors of the stock exchange are also open to you. Beyond that, the Eastern Wastelands and the demon race can collaborate in more areas—for example, jointly developing the beast resources of the Southern Frontier, or jointly countering threats from the Central Plains.”

He paused, his gaze meeting Holy King Canglong’s vertical pupils: “I’m not offering you a one-time deal. I’m discussing a long-term strategic partnership. Thirty percent is not the endpoint—it’s the starting point. If you’re not satisfied, then show me your sincerity. Once I see it, I’ll naturally make concessions.”

Holy King Canglong fell silent again, this time for longer.

He finally understood why Wang Hao dared to attend the feast at the Demon Clan’s stronghold alone and why he dared to march 700,000 troops against the Dark City—because this man was not only skilled in warfare but also adept in business.

He could turn a war into a business negotiation, turn enemies into partners, and turn threats into exchanges of interests.

“I need to return and discuss this with the Ten-Thousand Demon Hall,” Holy King Canglong finally said.

“Of course,” Wang Hao nodded.

“But don’t take too long. My time is limited. Three days from now, the Dark City will either surrender or be destroyed. You must give me your answer within three days—whether to ally with me or continue watching.”

He dispelled the soundproof barrier, turned, and walked toward the city tower, leaving behind a remark: “Holy King, I’m very busy. I won’t see you off.”

Holy King Canglong watched his retreating figure, a flicker of killing intent flashing in his vertical pupils, but soon it faded.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to kill—it was that he couldn’t.

This young emperor was just too uncanny.

Two hours later, the 700,000-strong army set out.

The marching route was personally chosen by Wang Hao—starting from the southern gate of Jieyin City, traveling south along the official road for 8,000 li, arriving at the Black Wind Valley, then turning southwest and crossing 3,000 li of wilderness, striking directly at the outskirts of the Dark City.

The total distance was over 11,000 li, with an estimated marching time of thirty days.

This pace was very slow, so slow that it seemed less like going to war and more like going on an outing.

But Wang Hao had his reasons—he deliberately slowed down to give the Dark City enough time to react, giving them ample opportunity to make a choice.

Choose to surrender, or choose to perish.

If he wished, he could lead all cultivators above the Imperial Flight Realm to fly to the Dark City within a single day and directly decapitate the leadership of the Eight-League Alliance.

But he didn’t, because his goal wasn’t to destroy the Dark City—it was to annex it.

Annexing a complete underground city was far more valuable than swallowing a pile of rubble.

The 700,000-strong army wound along the official road like a dragon. Banners blocked out the sun and sky, and the sound of hooves made the very ground tremble.

Villagers along the way knelt by the roadside, not daring to raise their heads. The murderous aura emanating from this army was so thick that ordinary soldiers at the Skin-Tempering or Muscle-Tempering realms lacked the courage to even stand.

Wang Hao rode his horse in the center of the column, with Wei Zhongxian waiting nearby.

His imperial robe rustled in the wind, and the new Sword of the Son of Heaven at his waist swayed gently with the horse’s gait.

“Your Majesty,” Xiao Chen suddenly spoke up. “Your subject has a question.”

“Speak.”

“You could have flown directly to the Dark City. Why take the army for thirty days on foot?”

Wang Hao glanced at him and smiled. “Xiao Chen, why do you think I’m attacking the Dark City?”

“For the spirit stones.”

“Yes, spirit stones are the objective,” Wang Hao replied. “But what about the means?” He pointed at the distant horizon.

“See that road? From Jieyin City to the Dark City, over 11,000 li, passing through seventeen towns and dozens of territories controlled by various factions. Marching 700,000 troops along this route isn’t just about attacking the Dark City—it’s about showing every force along the road what the Eastern Wasteland Empire’s army looks like.”

Xiao Chen’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Your Majesty is—deterring them?”

“Exactly. Deterrence,” Wang Hao nodded. “I want to swallow the Dark City, but the Dark City isn’t just that one underground city. It also controls vast outer zones, dozens of trade routes, and hundreds of affiliated factions.

If I only decapitate the Eight-League Alliance leaders, those outer forces won’t submit to me. They’ll scatter into countless small factions, continuing to cause trouble in the underworld. What I want is complete control—not fragmentation.”

He paused, his gaze sharpening: “So I need to march the entire army along this route, letting every faction witness firsthand the might of the Eastern Wasteland military. After they’ve seen it, they’ll make their own choices—either be buried with the Dark City or pledge allegiance to the Eastern Wastelands.”

“And if they choose to resist?” Ye Guyun asked.

“Resist?” Wang Hao smiled, a chilling cruelty in his expression.

“Then they’ll become the graves along this road. My 700,000 troops don’t mind slaughtering a few more people to consecrate the banners.”

The army continued south.

On the first day, they marched 4,000 li, passing seven towns. In every town, the residents saw the Black Dragon Banner flapping fiercely in the wind, along with the Eastern Wasteland soldiers beneath it, exuding terrifying auras.

On the second day, they marched another 4,000 li, crossing 3,000 li of wilderness. Within that wilderness, three minor factions were entrenched. Upon seeing the banners of the Eastern Wasteland army, the leaders of those factions sent envoys under cover of night offering surrender, pledging allegiance and annual tribute.

After Wang Hao finished reading the surrender letter, he only said four words: "Not sincere enough."

The leaders of the three forces panicked. The next day, they rushed to the military camp in person, knelt in front of Wang Hao's horse, and presented the entire properties and personnel rosters of their respective forces.

Only then did Wang Hao nod and said to Wei Zhongxian, "Write down their names. After the matter of the Dark City is settled, let them go to the Eastern Wasteland to report."

On the 30th day, after marching for two thousand li, they arrived at the periphery of the Dark City.

The Dark City was located in the crater of a dead ancient volcano. The diameter of the crater was about fifty li, and its depth exceeded a thousand zhang.

Eight corridors extended downward from the edge of the crater and converged into the main body of the underground city in the belly of the volcano. The entire city was shrouded in the Eternal Night Sky Curtain, which was a semi - transparent black light shield. There were faint green runes slowly flowing on the surface of the light shield, like swimming snakes.

Around the crater on the ground, the Eight - Gang Alliance had set up three lines of defense.

The first line of defense was a trap area. The ground within a radius of thirty li was densely covered with various traps - poison traps, thunder traps, and formation traps. Each type could kill warriors below the True Intent Realm.

The second line of defense was an arrow tower formation. One hundred and eight arrow towers were arranged along the edge of the crater. On each arrow tower, there were ten archers above the Aperture - Opening Realm, equipped with Breaking - Aura Arrows that could penetrate the aura shields of warriors below the Sky - Flying Realm.

The third line of defense was a wall of flesh and blood. Three hundred thousand peripheral disciples of the Eight - Gang Alliance formed three lines of defense, surrounding the crater tightly. Although most of them were middle - and low - level warriors at the Bone - Forging and Viscera - Forging Realms, the momentum of thirty thousand people in formation was still astonishing.

Wang Hao stood on a high ground fifty li away from the crater. He swept his spiritual sense across the three lines of defense and then shook his head.

"They really intend to fight."

He turned to look at the generals beside him and said, "Pass the order. The army will set up camp here and attack the city early tomorrow morning."

"Your Majesty, should we launch a probing attack tonight?" Lu Chenzhou asked.

"No." Wang Hao shook his head. "Let them be more nervous for one more night. Tonight, I will go to the Dark City in person."

"What?" Everyone was shocked.

"Your Majesty, you mustn't!" Xiao Chen was the first to object.

"The Dark City is now a den of dragons and a lair of tigers. It's too dangerous for you to go alone!"

"Dangerous?" Wang Hao smiled. "When I went to the Hongmen Banquet alone back then, you also said it was dangerous. What was the result? The Shadow Guards were completely wiped out, and not a single hair on me was harmed."

He patted Xiao Chen on the shoulder and smiled like a child who had successfully played a prank. "Don't worry. I'm not going there to fight. I'm going to negotiate. Isn't the Eight - Gang Alliance eager to talk? I'll give them one last chance."

"What if they don't agree?" Ye Guyun asked.

Wang Hao's smile remained the same, but the temperature in his eyes had dropped to freezing point: "Then let them see what true darkness is."

That night, at the hour of Zi.

In the meeting hall of the Dark City.

The seven gang leaders of the Eight - Gang Alliance gathered again. The Demon Lord of the Ten Thousand Demon Cave still didn't show up, but all eight gang flags had been lowered, except for the Demon Lord's, which was still flying - this was the rule of the Dark City. If the gang leader was present, the gang flag would not be lowered.

"The army from the Eastern Wasteland has set up camp outside the city," Feng Wanli said calmly, but the teacup in his hand had a crack on it. "They will attack the city early tomorrow morning. Gentlemen, we have one more night to make a decision."

"Make a decision?" Xue Wuhen sneered. "Haven't we already made it? Fight! For seven thousand years, when has the Dark City ever been afraid of anyone?"

"Fight?" Ghost Granny shrieked. "With what? The Eastern Wasteland has seven hundred thousand troops, one hundred and twenty Sky - Flying Realm experts, three thousand peak True Intent Realm experts, and that monster Wang Hao. Can you defeat them?"

"We have to fight even if we can't win!" Xue Wuhen slapped the table and stood up. "Are we going to surrender and let Wang Hao ride on our heads and do as he pleases?"

"Enough."

Yue Ji spoke, and the hall fell silent.

She stood up and walked to the center of the hall. Her eyes swept across each gang leader and finally landed on the empty stone chair - that was the seat of the Demon Lord of the Ten Thousand Demon Cave.

"The Demon Lord is not here. I'll make the decision," she said in a soft voice, but every word was like a nail driven into the hearts of everyone present.

"The Dark City shall not surrender. It's not for the sake of face, but because if we surrender, our seven - thousand - year - old foundation will fall into Wang Hao's hands."

"He will disperse our people and incorporate them into the Eastern Wasteland army. Our industries will be taken over by him, and our mines will become his cash cows. By then, the Dark City will really be dead."

"But we can't win," Yin Jiuyou said faintly.

"We have to fight even if we can't win," Yue Ji turned around and looked at the faint green runes flowing on the Eternal Night Sky Curtain outside the hall. "But we can fight in a different way."