Nightwatcher

# 371. Attacking the City

Chuzhou City.

The towering city walls were crowned by a three-story gatehouse, its curved eaves and upward-tilted corners exuding grandeur. From its highest floor, one could see dozens of miles into the distance.

In the great hall at the top level, a middle-aged man leaned on a blade, seated on a tiger-skin-covered throne.

He wore heavy armor forged from refined steel, draped in a crimson cape. His long and piercing phoenix eyes, paired with his sharp and handsome features, bore a striking resemblance to Emperor Yuanjing.

This man embodied the ferocity of a battlefield general combined with the dignified arrogance of imperial nobility—a natural-born ruler exuding an extraordinary aura.

He was the Zhenbei King of the Great Feng.

The life of this king was nothing short of legendary. Gifted with extraordinary strength from a young age, he could tear apart tigers and leopards with his bare hands. But he was no mere brute. On the contrary, King Huai was brilliant, far outshining his siblings.

King Huai had a penchant for violence and a fervent passion for martial arts. The late emperor once declared, “The Seventh Prince is Heaven’s gift to the Great Feng—a divine guardian general.” Thus, the throne was not passed to him.

King Huai himself cared little for the throne. To him, mastering martial arts to their peak would naturally bring power. The title of king was but a stepping stone on his path to martial supremacy.

Some were obsessed with beauty, others with wealth, or power, yet others with cultivation.

King Huai took command of troops at fifteen, was unmatched in the capital by twenty, and by twenty-five had taken charge of the northern borders—a position he had held for sixteen years now.

His most glorious moment came twenty years ago during the Battle of Shanhai Pass, where he served as Vice General under Wei Yuan. Wielding the State-Subduing Sword, he slew countless experts of the southern and northern barbarian clans.

History books hailed him as the second-greatest contributor to the campaign.

“Report!”

A black-robed spy entered the hall in haste, bowing low and kneeling with a bundle of secret letters in hand.

The Zhenbei King extended his hand, and the letters flew into his palm. He unfolded them one by one and began reading.

The first letter was a confession of failure: despite their utmost efforts, the spies had found no trace of the princess consort or the four barbarian leaders who had abducted her.

The second letter detailed an escape: Lady Flying Swallow, Li Miaozhen, had successfully made contact with Governor Zheng, who fled during the massacre. A Heaven-rank spy’s attempt to intercept was thwarted by a Buddhist expert, allowing Li Miaozhen to escape.

The third and fourth letters were military reports.

Two thousand elite cavalrymen of the Qingyan tribe had mobilised, carrying no supplies as they raced toward Chuzhou City.

The northern Yao leader, Zhujiu, was also leading his forces southward, aiming straight for Chuzhou City.

Their path showed no plundering of civilians or attacks on other cities—only a clear intent to strike at Chuzhou City. Given the city’s proximity to the border, the enemy forces would arrive before dusk.

The Zhenbei King crushed the letters into powder and dismissed the spy. Rising from his throne, he gazed at the empty hall and said in a deep voice:

“So, they’ve found out.”

“That was to be expected. Too many know of Mu Nanzhi’s unique constitution. Countless eyes are watching you, waiting for you to advance and claim her spiritual essence. Even though you’ve kept a low profile all these years, those capable of estimating your cultivation level are not few. It’s already remarkable that we managed to conceal the Chuzhou massacre for nearly a month.” a voice echoed in the wall, replying to the Zhenbei King.

“How much longer until the plan succeeds?” King Huai’s voice was calm, his gaze fixed ahead.

“Six hours.”

The voice chuckled. “Be patient. You should know that the life essence of ordinary mortals is useless to you. They must be refined into blood pills. Heh, 380,000 lives—naturally, it’s a time-consuming process. And if not for the need to craft soul pills as well, the blood pills would’ve been ready ten days ago.”

After a pause, the voice added, “Without Mu Nanzhi, even if you consume the blood pills, you could not have advanced to Second Rank.”

The Zhenbei King replied coolly, “We’ve already devised a way to compensate for that, haven’t we? Rest assured, I will not go back on my word.”

The voice let out a hoarse laugh. “Mutual benefit… Someone is coming.”

At the hall’s entrance, a lone figure appeared. The one-eyed Duke Protector Que Yongxiu, sword at his hip and one hand resting on its hilt, strode in.

“King Huai, still no sign of Zheng Xinghuai,” Duke Que reported grimly.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

“After this battle, if I ascend to the Second Rank, his life or death will no longer matter. If I fail, I still have ways to ensure your safety. There’s no need to worry,” the Zhenbei King replied.

Relieved, Que Yongxiu asked, “Do we have a chance of victory?”

The Zhenbei King nodded slowly.

Duke Que broke into a grin, seated himself boldly, and said with laughter:

“Our Great Feng is long overdue for a Second Rank. The northern barbarians and Yao monsters have been arrogant for years, treating us with disdain. After this battle, we’ll flatten Mount Tuotian and skin Zhujiu alive to make soup for the soldiers!”

The Zhenbei King’s stern expression softened into a faint smile.

Que Yongxiu had been his study companion in youth, and later his comrade on the battlefield. From the Battle of Shanhai Pass to the northern front, they had shared over two decades of hardship and glory, forming a bond deeper than blood brothers.

Otherwise, the massacre of Chuzhou City would not have been entrusted to him.

…

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, soldiers on the city walls squinted toward the horizon. A plume of dust rose in the distance as countless cavalry thundered closer. Behind them loomed a six metre tall azure giant.

They had arrived.

“Boom! Boom! Boom!”

Drums pounded, echoing across the land. The soldiers atop the walls sprang into action, methodically readying defensive equipment—rolling boulders, fire oil, and wooden stakes.

The approaching invasion had been anticipated for days. The officers and soldiers alike remained calm, their armor clinking in unison.

Within this preparation, the Zhenbei King stepped onto the observation platform of the gatehouse, blade in hand, gazing across the plain at the Qingyan tribe’s leader.

The two Third Rank experts locked eyes across the vast expanse, their expressions and even their subtle movements clear to each other. Jili Zhigu’s face twisted into a sinister grin, while the Zhenbei King’s lips curled into a cold, disdainful smirk.

After a brief moment, Jili Zhigu lowered his head, swung his arms, and broke into a sprint.

“Boom! Boom! Boom!”

The earth quaked as if under cannon fire. The azure giant blurred into motion, charging toward the walls like a living battering ram.

“Fire the cannons!”

Duke Protector Que Yongxiu roared.

On the city walls, massive ballistae and cannons were aimed at the azure giant.

The ballistae required four soldiers to draw their strings. As the strings were pulled taut, runes engraved on the ballista's frame lit up one by one, their glow flowing like water into the two-metre-long heavy bolts. When the strings were fully drawn, the gathered light coalesced entirely into the bolts, making them radiate a brilliance as if forged from pure light.

“Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!”

The massive bolts tore through the air like streaking meteors, aimed directly at the azure giant.

“Boom! Boom! Boom!”

Simultaneously, cannons enhanced by formations launched blazing fireballs, their trajectories reminiscent of dazzling meteors.

The Great Feng military was neither as individually powerful as the shaman clans, as numerous as the necromancy-wielding Church of the Warlock God, nor as agile as the enigmatic and elusive forces of the southern shaman clans. In mid- and high-level combatants, they also fell short of the Buddhist kingdoms.

Yet, the Great Feng had established its dominance over the Central Plains and reigned supreme in all Jiuzhou. Historically, this was due to Confucianism. When Confucian scholars led the imperial court, key military posts such as commanders and generals were often held by Confucian literati.

The most notable of Confucian generals typically hailed from Cloud Deer Academy.

These generals not only excelled in military strategy but also engaged in combat personally. With one boastful proclamation, the heavens shook.

After the decline of Confucianism, the artefacts of the Sitianjian took up the mantle. Heavy-duty weapons and firearms, enhanced with formations, became the cornerstone of Great Feng's survival—especially during city defences, where they proved to be veritable meat grinders.

The glowing heavy bolts and meteor-like fireballs relentlessly battered the azure giant.

Jili Zhigu endured the onslaught of heavy bolts and cannon fire—attacks capable of easily annihilating a sixth rank martial artist. Each explosion caused his massive frame to quiver, yet he neither dodged nor flinched. Instead, he actively shielded the cavalry behind him from the barrage.

Despite his efforts, a single volley claimed the lives of over a hundred elite riders.

As he neared within two hundred meters of Chuzhou City, Jili Zhigu suddenly sank both knees into the ground, his body tilting forward. The earth collapsed beneath him as he launched himself into a headlong charge toward the city walls.

A gale howled, carrying the azure giant’s overwhelming presence as he barrelled toward the walls, with a force so great it could almost level a mountain.

No, he could indeed level a mountain.

At that moment, the Zhenbei King moved. With a loud crack, he propelled himself upward from the shattered stone beneath his feet. His crimson cape billowed like a raging flame as he soared skyward. At the peak of his ascent, he drew his longsword.

Raising it high, he dove downward with an earth-shattering slash.

Despite his solitary figure, his strike carried the weight of the sky.

The azure giant was forced to halt his charge, steadying himself as he raised his massive sword in a sweeping counter to meet the Zhenbei King’s attack.

“Boom!”

The resulting impact was as deafening as a giant bell or great drum. Waves of energy rippled outward in all directions, like the simultaneous detonation of dozens of cannons. The shockwave expanded through the air, shaking the battlefield.

The soldiers atop the walls narrowly avoided disaster, while the runes embedded in the fortifications activated to form invisible barriers that absorbed the residual energy.

The Zhenbei King rose again, landing back on the battlements with his sword in hand, exuding an imposing presence.

“Zhenbei King, War God!”

Huguo Duke Que Yongxiu raised his weapon and roared.

“Zhenbei King, War God!”

“Zhenbei King, War God!”

The soldiers echoed in unison, their cries resounding with unity and determination. Their reverence for the Zhenbei King bordered on worship.

…

At the northern gate, in the endless wilderness beyond the city, a colossal figure emerged on the horizon. Its entire body was crimson, devoid of scales, and a golden, sun-like eye adorned its forehead.

The crimson serpent slithered across the ground, raising a massive cloud of dust.

Behind it followed the vast Yao army: river dragons, black-scaled tigers, horned lizards, giant apes, and flying birds that darkened the sky.

From the battlements, the soldiers, their faces devoid of fear or tension, mechanically fired ballistae, cannons, and drawn bows to strike the avian Yao circling overhead.

Falling birds that had been shot midair suddenly reopened their blood-red eyes before they hit the ground, reviving mid-fall to attack their comrades. Similarly, the Yao army felled by ballistae and cannon fire rose again to wreak havoc on their own ranks.

Before the Yao forces even reached the walls, chaos began to ripple through their ranks.

“Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!”

Heavy bolts streaked through the air, ignoring the Yao army entirely as they homed in on the crimson serpent. Guided by some unseen force, the bolts curved through the air to target its weak point: seven inches from its head.

The serpent’s enormous size made it overwhelmingly powerful, but also limited its mobility. Unable to evade the bolts and cannon fire, it suffered relentless attacks at its vital spot. Though the injuries were not severe, the pain was excruciating.

“Hiss…”

The serpent raised its massive head, its gaping maw resembling a blood-red abyss. The golden eye on its forehead trembled before unleashing a beam of light at the city walls.

The barrier formations on the walls flared to life, forming invisible shields to absorb the blow. Even so, the impact caused countless cracks to spiderweb across the fortifications.

Since the Battle of Shanhai Pass, the Northern Frontier had not witnessed a conflict of this scale. This battle alone involved three third rank powerhouses, and one unknown master lurking in the shadows.

…

In Chuzhou City, numerous jianghu warriors rushed out of inns and houses, staring in astonishment toward the city gates.

The thunderous sound of cannon fire, the clear twang of ballista strings, the clatter of hooves, the shouts of soldiers on the walls… and the terrifying waves of energy from clashes between high-ranked experts.

These were clearly audible and perceivable to the martial artists within the city, instilling an unavoidable fear deep in their hearts, making them want to cower under their beds.

“What’s going on? Have the barbarians reached Chuzhou City?”

“Damn it! Those savages actually dare to attack Chuzhou City? Do they intend to declare all-out war against our Great Feng?”

“Let’s go! We’ll head to the walls and defend the city together.”

Outside the largest tavern in Chuzhou City, several martial artists stomped their feet and cursed angrily. At that moment, they saw the tavernkeeper and the waiters emerge, their faces expressionless.

From the nearby houses, the local residents also began stepping out. Their faces were pale, their eyes vacant and lifeless, like soulless walking corpses.

More and more people emerged from their homes, gathering in the streets, their expressions wooden as they gazed skyward.

Above their heads, thin strands of blood-colored light seeped out, drifting into the sky and merging into a massive blood-red sphere.

Simultaneously, shadows were being pulled from their bodies and drawn into the ground. These shadows struggled desperately during the process, crying out in despair:

“So I’m already dead…”

“I’m dead? I’m dead!!”

“No! I can’t accept this…”

Throughout the city, the survivors—civilians and martial artists alike—watched this horrifying scene, their hearts chilled to the core.

Had the entire population of Chuzhou City already perished?

Then, who had they been speaking with? Who had they been sharing their days and nights with for the past month?

It turned out they had been living in a ghost city for over a month…

The remaining few living souls were overwhelmed by an immense, growing fear.

At the courier station, the delegation emerged onto the street, trembling in fear as they witnessed the pale figures standing lifelessly, gazing into the sky.

Streams of blood essence rose from the tops of their heads, ascending into the air. At the same time, shadows were stripped from their bodies and dragged into the ground.

Yang Yan murmured, “So this is where ‘Blood Runs Three Thousand Miles’ took place—Chuzhou City.”

“Monster!”

A furious roar suddenly erupted. The Deputy Justice of the High Court collapsed to his knees, tears streaming down his face.

“Chuzhou’s population of 380,000—380,000 resentful souls… In the six-hundred-year history of the Great Feng, no one has ever committed such a monstrous act. I swear, I will return to the capital and impeach King Huai, even if it costs me my life.”

He clenched his fists and pounded the ground with all his strength, wailing uncontrollably.

Censor Liu’s lips quivered. “How could he? How could he…? As a king of Great Feng, loved and supported by the people of the Northern Border, how could he do this to these innocent civilians? King Huai deserves to die a thousand deaths…”

Chief Constable Chen’s eyes were bloodshot, and his hand, gripping his saber, trembled uncontrollably.

Yang Yan watched them, momentarily moved.

These civil officials, though sly and conniving and prone to political scheming, were not completely devoid of virtue. Deep in their hearts, they still bore traces of the moral teachings of the sages.

Both wicked and virtuous.

Chief Constable Chen ground his teeth. “What exactly is King Huai trying to achieve?”

Yang Yan pondered for a moment before replying, “He might be aiming to ascend to second rank. That’s my guess.”

*Ascend to second rank…* The Deputy Justice of the High Court, the two censors, and Chief Constable Chen were all taken aback.

If—if King Huai really used this massacre to ascend to second rank, then even if they exposed this atrocity and petitioned for his impeachment, would His Majesty punish him?

Could the ministers hold King Huai accountable?

A Rank Two martial artist—the Great Feng hadn’t seen one in three hundred years.

Across Jiuzhou, Rank Two martial artists were practically extinct. At least among the Northern Barbarians and the Yao tribes, there were no Rank Two experts.

If King Huai succeeded in ascending to Rank Two, would the massacre still be considered a crime? Even if it were, who could punish him?

The emperor and the ministers would likely have no choice but to accept it grudgingly. And if they came to a compromise, even the Jianzheng would be forced to prioritise the greater good.

Exchanging the lives of 380,000 people for a Rank Two—was it worth it?

It was very worth it.

Censor Liu took a deep breath. “If King Huai truly ascends to Rank Two, I will die in Jinluan hall to make my stance clear.”

Chief Constable Chen said in a low voice, “Is there no one who can stop him? In the Northern Border, who can stand against the Zhenbei King…”

Yang Yan shook his head. “In the Northern Border, who could be stronger than Zhenbei King?”

No one.

No one could stop Zhenbei King. In Chuzhou, no one could stand in the way of his ascension.

No one at all—the delegation couldn’t, the jianghu warriors couldn’t. All they could do was watch the Zhenbei King’s rise.

Chief Constable Chen suddenly said, “I now regret that Xu Qi’an’s strength isn’t enough…”

When the others looked at him, he smirked bitterly. “I used to envy how he made a name for himself in the Buddhist contest. Envy how he outshone the Daoist prodigies during the Conflict of Heaven and Man. But now, I only regret that his cultivation isn’t strong enough.

“Because if it were him, he would never stand idly by. In fact, by now, he’d already have drawn his sabre against King Huai. Isn’t that right, Gold Gong Yang?”

Everyone turned to Yang Yan.

Yang Yan seemed momentarily lost, as if recalling something. With a sigh, he said, “Duke Wei once said that Xu Qi’an’s greatest flaw is his reckless courage. Whether it was cutting down his superior or standing alone against rebels in Yunzhou.”

Indeed, that man was like an unyielding blade, as unmovable as a rock in a latrine—stubborn and foul.

The civil officials who despised him often said, “This man will one day pay dearly for his temper.”

Yet, it was precisely people like him who, at times, became the “saviour” in their hearts—the one they hoped would rise and rally them in their darkest moments.

Censor Liu murmured, “The late emperor was wrong. If the Great Feng were to have a true Guardian General, I think it would be Xu Qi’an, not King Huai.”

But alas, he was still too young and hadn’t fully matured.

The Deputy Justice of the High Court wore an expression of venomous hatred. “I now wish the barbarians would breach the city and slay the Zhenbei King. If Great Feng cannot stop him, let the barbarians do it.”