The earth trembled, the catapults shattered to pieces, straight blades broke apart. The emaciated, ragged figures were overjoyed, their cheeks hollow, their faces basking in the dazzling flames with an almost blissful glow.

Yes — this was the complete, utter happiness and ecstasy of being freed, no longer oppressed, no longer bound.

In an instant, they no longer wanted to die — they wanted to burn this ugly place to the ground completely. Not enough combustible material? Then go find more. Find it together.

Those who’d thrown caution to the wind no longer feared death — after all, this had always been a group of fierce men kept chained and tormented like meat on a spit. Whoever dared stop them would be hacked into mincemeat by the most brutal methods they had.

At first, the soldiers still tried to form ranks to fight back, but they were nowhere near a match for the new blades — barely a few exchanges before they were cut down, dying in horrific fashion.

These men had always been tools for killing, and now, unleashed, they struck purely on instinct, with no fear left in their hearts at all.

As it happened, after She Wanlin had arrived and killed two instructors — who were also the direct commanding officers of the camp’s garrison troops — the chaos only deepened further.

The new blades tore down the high platform, tore down the prison, tore down the camp walls, throwing every burnable material they could find into the raging fire…

Every time a pillar of flame shot up into the sky, they’d silently raise their arms together, weapons pointed at the vast sky, as if to say, Heaven, do you see this? We can still do this — we’re lighting the greatest fire the human world has ever seen, and when the flames rise high enough, we’ll set you ablaze and scorch you dry too.

The scene was eerie beyond words — over sixty madmen taking small, shuffling steps as they tore things apart, carrying, cradling, hoisting, dragging everything toward the fire, throwing it in with all their strength, raising their arms high…

Among them, a few who hadn’t eaten in days, with no strength left in their bodies, who’d been pierced by the siege crossbows and died on the spot — their companions lifted them up and sent them high into the blazing flames.

Dying warm — what a fine place to end up.

This thoroughly terrified the men of the Old Blade Camp — these people didn’t even fear death itself, but they did.

And so, within a single month, the camp mutinied for the second time. Starving beasts burst out of their cages, roaring and charging about in panic.

With a massive boom, the camp wall was torn down. Tan Shouju, in a panic, shouted at everyone around him, “Someone, someone, get up on the high platform and light the wolf-smoke beacon!!”

His subordinate turned pale with shock. “My lord, you mustn’t! This is a matter that costs heads! How dare you privately activate the beacon signal? Don’t you know that once the wolf-smoke beacon is lit, it’ll spread all the way to the capital — Jindian’s checkpoints can’t hold back that kind of news. This isn’t just bringing trouble to the Yanjing clan — besides, the Provincial Governor isn’t even at his post right now…”

This subordinate was actually a strategist figure, in truth a covert agent planted beside Tan Shouju by Tan Shouyi, usually just there to relay messages — but with things now critical, he had no choice but to speak up.

Seeing Tan Shouju both furious and desperate, he stepped closer and lowered his voice. “My lord, do you know what crime it is for a border official to abandon his post and privately leave Great Liang territory without authorization? Do you want the old marshal to die, or do you want our entire Tan clan implicated and executed?”

Tan Shouju wasn’t a capable man. Hearing this, he shook his head repeatedly, gave a shudder, and muttered, “If the old marshal doesn’t die, then this old soldier of his can’t live either… you — who are you? You… you were sent by him.”

The strategist had no interest in dealing with him, no interest in explaining either. He stamped his foot and waved his arm at the men on the watchtower, taking over command himself.

In an instant, a dense volley of catapult stones rained down from the sky. She Wanlin’s blade had already been knocked away, and he grabbed a wooden post instead, whirling it into an impenetrable shield, deflecting the fist-sized rocks back in wave after wave.

The soldiers operating the small catapults screamed and tumbled off the walls one after another… The new blades all raised their faces to the sky, cheering, then charged toward another section of the camp wall, continuing to tear it down, burn it all, destroy it all — these ugly things had to be destroyed.

A section of the camp wall was pushed down by the new blades, and they began carrying off the timber like ants. This kind of destruction was immensely satisfying, a way to vent all their pent-up pressure.

Having deflected another assault, She Wanlin’s wooden post landed heavily on the ground, kicking up a small cloud of dust. Behind his face-covering cloth, he breathed heavily, struggling to stay standing, not daring to show even the slightest trace of cowardice.

This teenage boy didn’t realize that his way of protecting others was gradually, steadily cementing his position as the head blade in the hearts of all the new blades, becoming their spiritual anchor.

Children always imitate what they see, and he was doing this unconsciously — but his father had always been the same way: as long as he stood at the front, he would always fight to shelter those behind him.

This was what a true old blade was.

Spears coming? Strike them back!

Stones coming? Strike them back!

Fire-arrows coming? Strike them back!

She Wanlin feared nothing. Every counterattack felt like it was breaking something apart.

The two sides clashed, and though the enemy had greater numbers, they found themselves increasingly squeezed into a narrow space by this reckless, all-or-nothing spirit.

Suddenly, a heart-wrenching cry rang out — Tan Shouju was sprawled atop the watchtower, pointing into the distance and shouting, “Open the camp gate… open the camp gate… reinforcements have arrived, reinforcements have arrived…”

The officers rushed over in delighted surprise, climbing the watchtower to look into the distance, and saw torches like three long serpents, the front visible but no end in sight — armored cavalry of the Tan family army, having heard the ox-horn signal and come to the rescue.

No telling how many had come. As they drew closer, the earth trembled, swift as shooting stars, soon arriving right before the camp.

“Open the gates!!!”

Tan Shouju cried out in delighted surprise, his face twisted as he directed the soldiers to open the camp gate, wanting to go down himself to personally welcome the armored cavalry.

Unfortunately, as this man scrambled and stumbled his way to the very center of the gate, the armored cavalry arrived right in front of him in an instant — and they didn’t care who he was or what rank he held. He was blocking the cavalry’s path, and if the lead riders dared stop abruptly, disaster would follow for those behind.

And so, the man leading the charge swung his long whip and struck Tan Shouju — this already elderly man was sent tumbling through the air from the blow, then took a follow-up kick from the rider behind, slamming backward into the watchtower before crumpling silently to the ground.

His covert agent came running over clutching his head, propped him up, and patted his chest for a long while before Tan Shouju spat out a mouthful of fresh blood and groaned, “Am I going to die?”

This agent held him in great contempt, but couldn’t help persuading him anyway. “My lord, please endure it. If that general hadn’t whipped you aside, you’d already have been trampled into mincemeat by the charging horses by now.”

Only then did Tan Shouju realize he’d committed a grave military taboo, and he began to wail, “So now, it seems whatever I do is wrong.”

The agent sighed again. “My lord, you’ve never really understood military affairs. What’s happening today is complicated — but you are, after all, clan brothers with the old marshal. However much you’re at fault, he still can’t kill you, right?”

Thinking of the consequences, Tan Shouju swayed to his feet, clutching his chest and groaning, “He might as well kill me. What meaning is there in staying alive now?”

The agent, helpless, went over and half-dragged, half-carried him toward the cavalry — whatever the outcome, however the mutiny was to be suppressed, it would require Tan Shouju, as the man in charge, to negotiate with the general on the other side.

Flames roared upward, chaos everywhere. The armored cavalry entered without any panic, perfectly orderly, all dressed identically. The agent and Tan Shouju had no idea who to even contact, and could only stand at the edge and watch for now.

This armored cavalry was a force Tan Shouyi had secretly trained in Ai City over these past years, specifically modeled on and refined from the former dynasty’s Black Cavalry Commandant corps, intended for future use as vanguard troops.

She Wanlin watched these men arrive, mounted on tall horses, wrapped in black armor, and felt, in a daze, that he was perhaps now in the same situation his father’s generation had once faced — utterly isolated, without help, standing before a thousand riders in ragged clothes, and yet — unafraid, unyielding.

The armored cavalry lined up row by row three zhang from the platform, waiting quietly for orders. You wouldn’t feel any pressure from them at first, but occasionally their long spears would clang against their armor, and you’d think, oh, right, that thing — so long, so sharp, a rider mounted on his horse, bearing that thing from far away, could pierce straight through you and pin you to the cliff wall behind.

Tch — that must hurt a lot.

The bonfire collapsed, sparks flaring high, and Yangdan, who’d been in a frenzy until now, suddenly went still. He panted, drenched in sweat, mouth hanging open, looking left and right, at the sky and the earth, then at that figure standing there, thinking — am I going to die? And dragged others down with me too.

That young master standing alone before the armored cavalry, that wealthy young master who’d never once gone hungry — he probably had plenty of money, didn’t he? And yet he was going to die too?

That didn’t seem right somehow.

This not-so-clever boy recovered a shred of humanity. Watching the armored cavalry grow in number, and seizing the moment while the enemy regrouped to discuss strategy, he grabbed She Wanlin and said, “Enough. You — you’ve been good. You go.”

She Wanlin looked at the wooden post in his hand and thought, if only he had a blade — best of all, one exactly like his father’s old blade.

Pushed at, he turned his face to look at Yangdan, and still found the presence of mind to reach out and pinch his nearly fleshless cheek, smiling. “Silly Yangdan, big brother’s going to teach you something useful — a truly good blade, when it meets an enemy, only ever cuts forward!”

Yangdan thought, but you’re not a blade — yet since the man wouldn’t budge, there was nothing he could do, and he could only silently retreat. But then he heard someone beside him say, “We’re dead either way, might as well take a few down with us.”

All these years, Yangdan and this brother beside him had seen each other daily, yet as enemies — enemies fighting for survival, enemies fighting over food. To speak so calmly with each other like this was a first.

Strangely enough, when this brother said they were dead either way, the new blades around them nodded in approval, exchanging silent glances.

The new blades didn’t get along well with each other, yet they shared some strange, unspoken understanding. In an instant, as if passing something along, they began exchanging looks, and under cover of darkness and the bonfire, a few provided cover while several others quietly moved aside and swiftly pushed over the bluestone blocks at the corner of the camp’s mountainside wall — it was a false wall, and once it fell, several battering rams were revealed behind it.

Most of the new blades had worked together for a long time already. Seeing the battering rams, they moved as one, hoisting them up, backing away and turning, then charging straight at what appeared to be a blank cliff face.

“Boom! Boom! Boom…!”

A series of dull impacts echoed through the camp. The armored cavalry didn’t move, but Tan Shouju, seeing clearly what was happening, screamed alongside the agent in heart-wrenching panic, “Stop him quickly! Stop them at once… heavens, oh heavens! Stop them, please…”

But it was already too late for anything. That section of cliff face turned out to be a false wall too, only a few inches thick — under the relentless battering of the reinforced iron-headed rams, cracks split open, growing longer and longer, until it finally collapsed with a thunderous crash…

In an instant, rock dust exploded outward, then slowly settled, and once everyone’s eyes could focus clearly again, they were utterly stunned.

It was a massive, bottomless cave, its front the false wall gateway. On the stone walls to the left and right, the left side held over a dozen banners, and among them, the most conspicuous was a golden-yellow imperial banner, encircled by a five-colored, five-clawed divine dragon — the emperor’s own banner. Most terrifying of all, beneath that imperial banner was not the character “Yang,” but the character “Tan.”

Even more terrifying — on the wall to the right of the imperial banner hung a suit of golden armor trimmed with dragon-scale patterns, and on its skirt-armor hung a sword that only the emperor himself was permitted to use — the Heaven-and-Earth Kunlun Sword.

This sword was normally reserved for the emperor’s use in rites of heaven-worship.

All around, dead silence, save for the laughter of night owls in the distant mountains.

The old blades, being illiterate, had no idea what earth-shattering trouble they’d just caused. All they knew was that over the past ten years, they’d carried countless suits of armor and weapons into this cave — and seeing it now laid open, they all filed in together, and before long came filing back out again, each carrying a brand-new, gleaming long blade.

She Wanlin, too, stood stunned, thinking to himself, oh no, this is bad!

He might have been able to slip away before, but now that this old man Tan’s evidence of rebellion had been exposed, they were all finished…

Before he could even finish contemplating the disastrous consequences, Yangdan tossed a bundle of long blades onto the ground, and said with a hint of eagerness to please, “Big brother, you choose first?”

She Wanlin stiffly let go of the wooden post, bent down and picked up a new long blade, then raised it and stood frozen, facing the armored cavalry without moving.

Seeing him like this, the new blades all bent down to pick up blades too, and, following the formations they’d been trained in, fell in behind She Wanlin one by one, holding their blades horizontal in a wild-goose formation…

Tan Shouju, beside himself with fury, stamped his feet and shouted, “What is this?! You worthless wretches, I’ve been shouting for ages — how did it come to this? It’s over, it’s over… none of us can survive this, we’re all going to… urgh…”

A spear pierced straight through him. Tan Shouju looked down at the blood pouring from his chest, and stared at the armored cavalry in disbelief. “You dare — I’m surnamed Tan, damn you…”

The cavalry general gave his spear a sharp flick, shaking off the blood, and muttered indifferently, “Useless thing. Being surnamed Tan means something, does it? I’m surnamed Tan too, and look at me, still just some poor bastard suffering through life.”

Having said this, he waved his hand. “Leave none alive.”

The moment those words fell, the armored cavalry moved swiftly, splitting into a square formation, raising their long spears layer by layer and skewering their own men first, like stringing candied fruit onto a stick.

In an instant, the garrison soldiers screamed in agony, caught completely off guard as they were swiftly run through and strung together like corpses on a line.

The chaos on that side left the new blades utterly bewildered.

She Wanlin wanted to say something, turned to look, and — good grief — every face there looked prematurely aged, yet their eyes were all innocent, dumbly foolish, just like those silly dogs his grandmother kept.

Seeing this look of having caused monumental disaster without even realizing it, She Wanlin turned back around, exasperated, and said, “Forget it, I’ve lost this one!”

He took a breath and let out a sharp whistle. “Backs!”

Then he stepped forward, and behind him, footsteps fell in unison with a click, Yangdan pressing flush against his back — a perfect, seamless fit.

This method of facing multiple enemies together, coordinating defense, She Wanlin had seen his father use before, but he never expected… he glanced back, and the new blades, now numbering only around thirty, stood arrayed solemnly in a four-sided formation, all back to back.

Oh. So they knew this too.

This formation conserved a great deal of strength — block one strike, swap positions, block the next, gradually pressing forward — this was the Old Blade’s back-formation.

Raising an eyebrow slightly, She Wanlin muttered, “Well… not bad, I suppose.”

Having muttered this, they quietly watched as the enemy’s own men skewered each other, even riding their horses over the fallen for sport.

In truth, so much death had occurred tonight that everyone had gone thoroughly numb to it by now.

The slaughter within the camp was swift. These armored cavalrymen seemed to have been doing this kind of work since birth — within less than the time it takes an incense stick to burn, the initial screams from all sides gave way, until at the end there was only the scattered sound of final breaths being cut short by follow-up spear thrusts…

This was an act meant to silence everyone — from the very start, no one had been left any chance to survive. It seemed old Tan held his priorities clear in his heart, and this was his true private army.

As the last breath was cut short, the agent stared up at the sky, dying with his eyes wide open in disbelief, and before long, hooves trampled his head into the mud, crushing it into pulp.

Once that side had been thoroughly cleared, with no survivors confirmed, the armored cavalry reformed ranks once more, lining up in front, spears raised, waiting silently.

She Wanlin stood there fearlessly, becoming the anchor for all these new blades…

He watched as the leader gave his horse’s belly a squeeze with his heels, slowly moving to the right flank of the formation, and with a sharp clack raised his long spear — the armored cavalry all drew out identical two-foot rods in unison, extending their spear shafts, and with another clack, aimed them all together at the frail new blades.

Old blades against the Black Cavalry Commandant, new blades against armored cavalry — the two sides had always shared a bitter enmity. No telling who would die today.

She Wanlin had already begun to feel his strength failing moments ago, bitterness in his heart, yet he still stood firm, thinking, whatever happens, I’ll take down as many as I can.

The cavalry general swung his spear shaft, and the eight lead riders yanked their reins, charging forward with heavy spears leveled straight at the new blades.

She Wanlin’s expression turned grave. He was just about to act when he heard a sharp, clear shout ring out from the sky: “My son, don’t panic, mother’s here!”

The moment those words fell, a figure came flying down from the sky and landed in a shallow crater in the ground.

Old Chou hit the ground hard, first yelping in pain before sitting up, and then his eyes landed on the imperial banner…

He was muttering, about to cry out to the heavens, when he heard his young master shout first: “…Nezha’s father, the Pagoda-Bearing Heavenly King!”

On the cliff top, dressed in a sky-blue long gown embroidered with elaborate floral patterns, wearing a gold-woven, beaded veil over her head, and feet in shoes embroidered with colorful butterflies among flowers… a woman?

She was hoisting a boulder the size of a small hill, about to drop it down.