The imperial garden Beiyuan, connected to Jiankang Palace, had been expanded and renovated multiple times. Within the garden stood pavilions and towers with emerald tiles and vermillion ridges. Among the flowering trees and vegetation, there were endless carved railings and jade terraces, flying pavilions and flowing cinnabar—truly like a fairyland on earth.

But now even this place could not escape the fate of devastation. Rebels swarmed in like locusts, completely looting all valuable items inside. They didn’t even spare the gilt outer layers decorating the corridor pillars, stripping them away piece by piece, leaving only bare pillars behind. As for the flowers, trees, and birds in the garden, some were trampled flat, others had their necks broken and wings snapped. After thoroughly sweeping and looting everything, they finally departed with howls.

This night, as the fourth watch was nearly over, it was the darkest moment before dawn. Beiyuan was pitch black, and cold wind swept past the flying eaves and palace corners, making rustling sounds.

…

The secret passage was extremely narrow. At its widest point, it could only allow two people to pass side by side. About ten li long, it began underground at the original site of Xingshan Temple and led all the way into the city.

The end of the secret passage was within Beiyuan. The opening was extremely small, only allowing one person to enter and exit while bending over. It was hidden within an artificial mountain, concealed by strange rocks that blended seamlessly with the surroundings. Over the years, moss had grown all over it. Unless someone knew about it, even standing right in front of the artificial mountain, they wouldn’t notice anything suspicious.

After exploring the situation overnight, the group quickly returned the same way and summoned people to discuss countermeasures.

Considering the narrow passage, it would be difficult for large numbers of soldiers to go up simultaneously in a short time. The distance from Beiyuan to the burial pits where hostages were being killed was also considerable. Given the current alertness of the rebels in the city, discovery en route would be inevitable.

The person leading soldiers into the city would need to not only ensure their own escape from potential heavy encirclement, but more importantly, rescue those hostages who could lose their lives at any moment before the main forces attacked the city and reached the burial ground.

The difficulty of this mission was beyond imagination.

The tent was brightly lit, illuminating face after face.

Those usually brave and matchless military generals now remained silent. The tent was completely quiet.

It wasn’t cowardice or fear of taking responsibility, but worry that their abilities might be insufficient. If they failed, the consequences were unthinkable.

No one could bear responsibility for thousands of lives.

Just as Gao Yin was about to take on the task himself, he suddenly heard Li Mu say: “I’ll lead men into the city.”

Gao Yin was startled and quickly said: “Let me go instead. I will do my utmost to preserve the hostages’ lives.”

Li Mu asked: “If you command the assault on the city, how confident are you?”

Gao Yin considered for a moment.

“After Jiankang’s city walls were built, they have been reported multiple times over the years to have collapsed and deformed due to soft foundations. Though repaired several times, if we use catapults to simultaneously hurl large numbers of boulders in sustained attacks, we should see results within one hour.”

“Then we’ll arrange it this way. You’ll be responsible for attacking the city from outside while I lead men through the secret passage into the city. Coordinating from inside and outside, we’ll minimize casualties as much as possible.”

As his words fell, the great tent became silent once again.

Gao Yin looked at Li Mu.

His gaze was calm, his tone normal, showing no ostentation, yet it made people spontaneously feel a stability and hidden authority like Mount Tai standing before them.

Gao Yin was very clear that if Li Mu did this, the chances of success would be greater than his own.

But correspondingly, the danger would also be greater.

And among those people in the pits he wanted to save, quite a few had been his enemies not long ago.

He and Li Mu looked at each other for a moment.

For the first time in his life, he truly understood what reverence meant.

He no longer insisted. Rising from his seat, he came before Li Mu, knelt on one knee, performed a military salute, and said respectfully: “Gao Yin accepts the order and will not fail the Grand Marshal’s trust!”

The other generals in the tent also followed suit, all kneeling behind Gao Yin, competing to request permission to accompany Li Mu into the city.

Li Mu stood up, helping Gao Yin and everyone else to their feet one by one, smiling: “Jumping clowns, however strong, must be eliminated—let alone this rabble! This battle will eradicate evil completely, to warn all quarters and inspire righteous valor!”

Everyone’s blood boiled. Gathering together, after receiving orders, they each scattered to prepare, their vigorous figures quickly disappearing into the night.

Battle was about to come.

…

After Murong Ti entered the city and killed Rong Kang, he hadn’t taken another step into Jiankang Palace, staying in barracks near the city gates.

In the latter half of this early winter night, before the fifth watch, he awoke from dark dreams with a sudden, almost instinctive sense of foreboding.

As if somewhere in this city, at this very moment, some danger he couldn’t know about was occurring.

He knew the army outside the city would launch an assault sooner or later.

He also knew clearly that hoping to rise again with this group of thugs in the city, even just to hold Jiankang, was a pipe dream.

Those rebels who had been moved by his smooth talk and real gold and silver to temporarily gather under his command were, like him, each pursuing their own agenda. They were like a house built on shifting sand, tottering and ready to collapse at any moment.

But he didn’t care about these things.

If those people died in the end, they could only blame themselves for being driven by greed.

When he had entered this city alone, he hadn’t thought about the future.

He was a man without a future.

He thought of only one thing—waiting for Li Mu’s arrival.

Li Mu’s primary goal would certainly be rescuing the hostages. And he had already set up multiple checkpoints at the city gates with heavy troops waiting.

As soon as Li Mu attacked the city, the hostages would be completely buried alive.

Among those people, besides Southern Dynasty aristocratic officials, there were also many surrendered soldiers.

He wanted Li Mu to also taste that feeling of helplessness under failure—to know exactly what kind of heart-piercing agony it was.

Murong Ti’s eyes had become bloodshot and red from days of intertwined exhaustion and excitement.

He was about to walk out of the tent when he heard commotion from the direction of the city walls in the distance.

His heart leaped, and he immediately rushed out, seeing jumping firelight in that direction, blindingly bright against the dawn light that was approaching but not yet white.

One of Rong Kang’s former subordinate generals was riding over. Reaching him, he excitedly reported that Southern Dynasty soldiers outside the city had suddenly approached, attempting to launch a surprise night assault, but the city had been prepared. Under counterattacks of fire oil and arrow formations, the enemy had given up the assault and retreated.

“Your Majesty’s divine foresight predicted the southerners would launch a surprise attack! That Li Mu is nothing special! Your Majesty can rest assured—I’ve led my brothers to set up an inescapable net. As long as Li Mu dares enter the city, we’ll ensure he never returns…”

The man kept flattering in Murong Ti’s ear. But the sense of foreboding in Murong Ti’s heart only grew stronger.

He turned his head, staring toward the burial ground. While still hesitating, suddenly from the direction of the northern palace came the faint sound of fighting and shouting.

Though barely audible, because the entire city was deathly quiet, the sound still reached his ears.

His expression changed slightly.

That subordinate of Rong Kang also heard it. After a moment of confusion, his face showed anger as he cursed: “A bunch of worthless mud that can’t stick to walls! Look what time it is, and they’re still only thinking about fighting over loot! If they ruin the big plan, I’ll chop off their heads first!”

He harshly called over a deputy, ordering him to immediately take men to investigate what was happening and arrest all soldiers who dared abandon their posts at such a time to fight each other.

These days, soldiers often fought and even killed each other over unequal distribution of spoils. That commotion was probably another such incident.

The deputy was about to follow orders when Murong Ti suddenly roared: “You go personally, take more men, bring crossbows, and if there’s anything unusual, defend to the death!”

The man hesitated: “Your Majesty, it should just be soldiers fighting. There are already enough men there. If we deploy more, won’t that disperse our forces and ruin the original plan…”

“Do as I say!”

Murong Ti roared.

The man was startled, then understood, silently cursing this Xianbei’s unpredictable mood and difficulty to serve. If not for being awed by his former status as Northern Yan emperor and hoping to use his schemes to eliminate Li Mu, this constant threat, and permanently occupy this rich Southern Dynasty land, why would he listen to this Xianbei’s commands?

Though he cursed inwardly, he dared not delay in action, hastily calling men to deploy troops.

Murong Ti had already seized a warhorse, leaped onto it, and rushed toward the direction of the commotion. Halfway there, he encountered several panicked soldiers running toward him, shouting: “Your Majesty, disaster! A Southern Dynasty army suddenly emerged from Beiyuan and is heading toward the burial ground. We can’t resist them…”

Their shouts were filled with terror.

With a “boom,” all the blood in Murong Ti’s body seemed to rush to his head at that moment.

He froze briefly, then suddenly drew his sword, stabbed one soldier who had run before him, turned his horse around, and galloped toward the burial ground.

…

The east was breaking dawn, and the sky was gradually brightening.

In the dim, faint morning light, Li Mu and the force that had emerged from underground following him successfully passed through the deserted, devastated Beiyuan.

But shortly after emerging, as they rushed toward the burial ground, they were detected by sentries Murong Ti had placed throughout the city, attracting nearby soldiers.

Without any unnecessary words, Li Mu pulled down the face guard connected to his helmet, leading the hundreds of warriors behind him who, like him, wore full armor and carried shield in one hand and blade in the other. They strode forward to meet the enemy, and he swung his blade at the first opponent who reached him.

In the dim dawn light, the blade’s edge cut a most dazzling cold arc of light, swift as lightning.

The opponent hadn’t even had time to raise his weapon before being split open from head to toe.

A stream of hot, salty blood suddenly sprayed into the air, splashing onto Li Mu’s mask.

The slaughter began in such a cold, cruel manner.

The secret passage exit in Beiyuan had been discovered and quickly sealed.

Here, facing Li Mu, initially there were dozens, then hundreds, then over a thousand.

More and more rebels were arriving upon hearing news, commanded by their leaders to annihilate this underground force that had been cut off on their way to the burial ground.

But this triangular formation of hundreds was advancing rapidly.

The warrior at the very front tip of the triangle—the rebels couldn’t see his face hidden behind the mask, nor did they know who this was.

In their pupils, they only saw this man like a sharp sword cutting through waves. One shield, one blade, one step, one person. Where he passed, severed limbs flew and blood fell like rain, so much so that the rebel soldiers ordered to surround and annihilate them, terrified by this seemingly unstoppable, terrible killing power, no longer dared approach directly. They followed his advance, all retreating.

“General Li Mu is here!”

“Those who block the way—kill without mercy!”

At this moment, the hundreds of warriors behind him all let out a roar, their voices shaking ears and hearts.

Like a brief freezing of the air.

“It’s Li Mu! Li Mu has come!”

Chaotic shouts arose among the rebels. Soldiers looked with terrified eyes at this masked, armored warrior killing toward them.

He was that legendary southerner Li Mu!

When he was still unknown, he had created the myth of defeating a hundred thousand Liangzhou troops with merely a few thousand men, thus beginning a legendary era of the Southern Dynasty’s god of war.

From the humblest soldier’s position, in this strictly hierarchical Southern Dynasty with clear class barriers, he had married the most noble Gao clan daughter, recovered Chang’an, achieved the position of Grand Marshal, wielded power throughout the court, and became famous across the realm.

Emperor after emperor had died under his blade during his northern campaigns.

He had also once broken through the legendary natural fortress Kanglong Pass in a single night, single-handedly turning the tide, making the Hongze River change course, saving countless people from disaster and displacement.

His name was known by all, unknown to none.

And today, he had appeared here in such a manner.

Only at this moment did these rebels truly feel a threat that seemed to come from death itself.

When Li Mu again swung his blade and severed a companion’s arm, the spraying foul blood and painful, terror-filled groans seemed instantly magnified to the extreme, filling every corner, making everyone involuntarily feel chilled and no longer dare face him directly. They all turned and fled.

“Release arrows!”

At the street intersection ahead, large numbers of crossbow troops had already arrived on horseback, quickly setting up their bows.

Arrows fell like rain, whistling as they came.

Those rebels who had turned to flee hadn’t managed to run a few steps before being hit by arrows, falling like rapidly harvested wheat under the sharp arrows fired by their own people. Bodies piled up, and the cries of the wounded rose and fell.

Li Mu gave an order, and a row of warriors behind him quickly caught up, forming a line with him and holding their strong shields in front to create a shield wall.

At the same time, the warriors behind also quickly formed an inverted triangle formation, raising shields to protect overhead as they rushed forward.

Seeing that the arrow formation hadn’t achieved its expected power and that the enemy was rapidly advancing toward them despite the arrow rain, the crossbow troops gradually panicked. They began disobeying orders, and despite their commanders’ continuous roaring, they retreated.

Li Mu led his warriors, braving the arrow formation and continuing to charge forward. As the two sides drew closer, the crossbows finally completely lost their power.

Just as the rebel general on horseback drew his sword and forcibly ordered his men to engage in close combat, someone from the middle of the front row opposite suddenly hurled his shield.

The shield, carrying the force of that throw, spun rapidly through the air with a whooshing sound, rushing at great speed toward that Rong Kang general on horseback who was giving orders. When the man noticed, it was too late to dodge.

With a dull “thud,” the entire heavy shield struck his chest hard, immediately breaking his ribs completely.

The man screamed, spitting blood, and was carried by the shield’s remaining force, falling from his horse.

Almost at the same instant, that figure had already moved out, leaping onto the horse’s back, turning the horse around, and galloping toward the burial ground.

The warriors behind him also followed suit, charging into the rebel ranks that stood dumbfounded and had lost all will to fight, seizing horses and pursuing the figure ahead.

In the dim morning light, a hellish scene was unfolding at the burial ground.

Outside the city, under the continuous bombardment of more than ten giant catapults arranged in a line that could hurl boulders weighing nearly a thousand jun, the weakest section of Jiankang’s city wall had collapsed with a thunderous crash. Mud and bricks flew, and the wall had been smashed open with a gap as wide as a city gate.

The great army rushed in like a tide, engaging the rebels in close combat.

In this burial ground, the guarding rebels didn’t know the city wall had been breached, much less that a force had emerged from underground, cut a bloody path, and would be upon them in moments.

With gold, silver, and precious goods from their spoils of war tucked at their waists, they dreamed beautiful dreams while following the original plan to bury the people in the pits on a large scale.

Having been buried in earth for days, many people had already lost consciousness, and the rest were like the dying, barely breathing.

Now knowing that death had truly arrived, driven by the desire to survive, they seemed to awaken again.

But this awakening only meant more intense and clear suffering.

All they could do besides weep was cry out futilely.

When Li Mu galloped to the burial ground, most people had already been buried up to their chests and necks by earth. Some had only their noses and eyes remaining, their mouths filled with mud so they couldn’t make sounds. Others had been completely buried, with only two raised arms still protruding above ground, grasping futilely as if praying to heaven for one last chance at life.

Above the burial ground, endless wailing and curses from a few people filled the air. The miserable scene was like hell on earth.

“Bury them all completely!”

The commander responsible for this area saw a Southern Dynasty surrendered soldier at his feet whose hands were still clawing at the ground though buried in earth. He laughed wildly and stepped forward to stomp down, but unexpectedly his ankle was firmly grasped by that hand.

As if concentrating all the hatred and anger before death, that hand’s grip was unusually strong, clamping down and not letting go.

The commander couldn’t break free and flew into a rage. He drew his blade and was about to chop down at the wrist.

Just then, a feathered arrow, carrying the whooshing sound of breaking air, shot rapidly toward his skull.

The sharp, hard iron triangular arrowhead, spinning at high speed, hit its mark precisely, penetrating the center of his slightly lowered head.

Like shattering an eggshell.

With a “bang,” in his eardrums, he seemed to hear the strange sound of his own skull exploding and brains splattering, amplified infinitely.

In the instant before he realized he was dead, most of his skull had already been shot to pieces like a honeycomb by that arrow carrying terrible force, falling away.

A rider flew like the wind, reaching him in moments.

The rebel soldiers nearby who were busy filling earth watched this scene happen right before their eyes, as if in just a blink. Still unable to react, they watched as a blood-stained, armored, masked figure leaped down from horseback and quickly dug away the earth around those hands, pulling the head and face of that Southern Dynasty soldier who hadn’t yet died out of the soil.

“Kill him!”

Another leader rushed over, shouting loudly.

Only then did the soldiers react, taking up weapons and surrounding him.

“The city gates are broken! Our Southern Dynasty great army will arrive momentarily! You rebel bandits—your time of death has come!”

Amid thundering hoofbeats and battle cries came from behind.

The rebel soldiers all turned around.

Behind them, yellow dust filled the air, obscuring vision. They couldn’t tell how many Southern Dynasty warriors identical to this armored man were galloping toward this place.

Li Mu lifted the iron mask covering his face, revealing his features.

His entire body was covered in blood and filth, yet his face was spotless, his expression stern and deadly, his gaze sharp.

“Grand Marshal!”

“The Grand Marshal has come!”

“We’re saved!”

That Southern Dynasty soldier whose head he had pulled from the earth slowly opened his eyes. Breathing laboriously with his mouth wide open, when he looked up, he recognized him immediately. In wild joy, not knowing where the strength came from, he managed three consecutive roars.

After roaring, tears streamed down his face, and he sobbed uncontrollably.

“Grand Marshal, save me!”

After a brief silence, shouts of wild joy and desperate strength once again filled every corner of the burial ground.