The desolate sound of horns spread across the mountains and valleys, awakening this sleeping fortress city.
As the headquarters of the Witch God Cult, Jing Mountain City had a population approaching 500,000, with cultivators of the witch system scattered throughout.
The garrison only had 25,000 troops, which was rather weak for a mighty city of 500,000 people.
But this wasn’t because the Witch God Cult lacked manpower; it was because they didn’t need more.
This was the headquarters of the Witch God Cult, with statues of the Witch God, a First-Rank Great Witch, and numerous high-level experts in the witch system. There were also large numbers of martial artists.
It’s no exaggeration to say that Jing Mountain City’s defensive strength and overall power were no less than the capital of Great Feng.
The 25,000 garrison troops swarmed out of their barracks in the city – 6,000 cavalry and 14,000 infantry. From commanders to soldiers, all looked somewhat bewildered.
Who would be so bold as to attack Jing Mountain City?
Throughout history, since the Witch God Cult was born and spread in the Northeast in ancient times, Jing Mountain City had never seen battle.
The 25,000 troops followed the main road around the peak of Jing Mountain, arriving at the seaside amidst billowing dust.
…
Streaks of black light rose from the city like dense meteors, passing over the peak of Jing Mountain and descending on the coast.
The witches, led by City Lord Nalan Yan, gazed into the distance, seeing twenty huge warships breaking through the waves far out at sea.
Nalan Yan stood eight feet tall, with a thick beard covering half his face and naturally curly brown hair. He was dual-cultivated in both witchcraft and martial arts.
This city lord was at the peak of Fourth Road as both a witch and a martial artist, just half a step away from crossing the threshold of “immortality” to become a long-lived Third-Rank expert.
Nalan Yan had another identity. The Witch God Cult had three Enlightened Witches (Third-Rank) and one Great Witch (First-Rank). The three Enlightened Witches were the State Preceptors of Jing, Kang, and Yan nations, usually not at headquarters.
The Great Witch was obsessed with shepherding, living a life of leisure.
The City Lord of Jing Mountain City was originally a Second-Rank Rain Master, but during the Shanhai Pass campaign, that Second-Rank Rain Master was lured into a trap by Wei Yuan and killed by Buddhist Arhats.
Nalan Yan was the son of that Second-Rank Rain Master.
As the sun rose, golden light danced on the sea. Nalan Yan squinted, gazing deeply at the green-robed figure on the ship’s bow, suddenly breaking into a cold smile.
Besides the witches and garrison, there was another group of people with varying levels of cultivation, but certainly not lacking in experts. They arrived at the coast shortly after but didn’t approach, observing from afar.
These martial artists were the free agents in Jing Mountain City, or Great Feng terms, jianghu figures.
“Those are Great Feng warships…”
“The one at the bow must be Wei Yuan. That green robe matches the legends about Wei Yuan.”
“Truly worthy of being called the God of War. I heard his Great Feng army encountered strong resistance in Yan territory. I had thought Wei Yuan wasn’t all that… Who would have thought he’d break through directly from the sea.”
“But this is also seeking death, isn’t it?”
“Heh, Wei Yuan’s move is clever, but our Witch God Cult has no weaknesses. Even if he’s the God of War, he can only charge in headlong. What a waste of these twenty warships.”
The jianghu free agents discussed with rather relaxed expressions, even smiling. Their ease was justified.
The Witch God Cult headquarters, Jing Mountain City, bordered the vast ocean, surrounded by the three nations of Yan, Jing, and Kang. For a thousand years, whether from the Central Plains, the North, or even the current number one power in the Nine Provinces, the Buddhist sect.
Has anyone ever made it to the Witch God Cult headquarters?
Not once.
Why? Couldn’t others build ships and cross the sea?
Because of two words: Rain Master!
…
On the cliff of Jing Mountain, Great Witch Salun Agu, wearing a hemp-colored robe and holding a lamb in his arms, looked down at the approaching warships with sails unfurled.
His hemp-colored robe billowed, waves of glass-like energy surging around him, extending into the surrounding environment.
Gradually, he seemed to merge with heaven and earth. Salun Agu gently blew out a breath.
This breath was like a snowball rolling down a hill, growing bigger and bigger, turning into a terrifying storm.
Suddenly, gale-force winds whipped up on the calm sea surface. The azure sky filled with dark clouds, thunder and lightning flashed, and torrential rain poured down.
Waves rolled higher and higher in layers. In the blink of an eye, the previously calm nearshore waters were engulfed in a storm.
The twenty warships were massive, but in the face of nature’s power, they seemed fragile and tiny, like small boats tossing in the waves. Sometimes entire ships were thrown into the air, then smashed back down, sending up huge sprays.
On deck, cannons and ballistas toppled over, some flying off into the vast ocean.
Crew members and sailors clung tightly to anything they could grab, trying to avoid falling into the sea or being smashed to death against masts, cannons, and other hard objects.
The soldiers below deck had it worse, rolling left and right, sometimes thrown high into the air, then crashing down hard.
Because of the dense crowd, over a hundred soldiers died in this large-scale chaos.
But all of this was nothing compared to the fate that awaited them.
Their fate was: to be swallowed by the raging waves at any moment.
Second-rank witches were called Rain Masters. In ancient times, when the climate was unpredictable, during droughts, human tribes in the Northeast would offer sacrifices to the Witch God Cult, praying for their help.
The witches would accept the sacrifices and set up rituals to pray to the heavens for rain.
The witches presiding over the rituals were usually Second-Rank, or rather, only Second-Rank witches were qualified to preside over the rituals. Thus, Second-Rank witches gained the title of Rain Master.
Praying for rain was just one of the manifestation abilities of Second-Rank witches.
The true core ability of Second-Rank witches in the witch system was to resonate with heaven and earth through themselves, borrowing a portion of the power of heaven and earth.
Therefore, with Second-Rank and above witches guarding the headquarters, any enemy attempting to cross the sea was seeking death.
The witches and garrison troops watched this scene rather relaxedly, seeing the Great Feng warships tossing like duckweed in the rain, in imminent danger.
The martial artist free agents mocked without restraint.
“Is this coming to fight? No, this is coming to die.”
“Is this all Wei Yuan amounts to? They say how amazing he is, but seeing him today, is this it?”
“Heh, daring to cross the sea to attack headquarters is not bad in itself.”
“The ships are full of military equipment – ballistas, cannons, finely crafted armor, and swords. After the Great Feng fleet is destroyed, we can salvage them from the sea and make a fortune.”
At this moment, on the turbulent sea surface, a towering tidal wave rose, like a jade city or snowy mountain, connecting heaven and earth. The sound was like a million thunderbolts, surging toward the Great Feng fleet in layers.
After building up for so long, the killing move was finally launched.
No fleet in the world could survive a tsunami like the Great Wall, even if the ships were inscribed with formations.
How could mere formations contend with the might of nature?
“Roar…”
High-pitched howls echoed through heaven and earth, one after another.
In everyone’s view, that tidal wave that should have swept everything away seemed to freeze. There was a pause of a few seconds, then it collapsed, crumbling as if it had lost the power to support itself.
Although the tsunami was as high as city walls and as long as mountain ranges didn’t crash down, the force of its dissipation still nearly capsized the twenty warships.
On the shore, the experts, troops, and witches of the Witch God Cult faction looked towards the sound with changing expressions. They saw thick, scaly bodies occasionally protruding from the foamy sea surface.
The Northern Beast Tribe, the Jiao Clan!
Descendants of gods and demons, the Jiao dragons.
Jiao dragons on land were called walking Jiao, in water they were called Jiao.
They were born rulers of the water, able to manipulate water spirits, both stirring up storms and calming them.
Looking out, there were hundreds of Jiao dragons riding the wind and waves. Those high-pitched echoing roars came from over a hundred Jiao dragons. The Jiao Clan had come out in full force.
The turbulent sea surface suddenly became much more docile, though not completely calm.
The torrential rain turned into a normal light rain.
Two forces manipulating water spirits wrestled, reaching a delicate balance.
“Jiao dragons, they’re from the Northern Beast Tribe.”
“No wonder that Wei Yuan dared to cross the sea. He relied on the help of Jiao dragons.”
Nalan Yan’s expression darkened slightly. He said calmly, “Not unexpected. If he wasn’t confident, he wouldn’t have come. Order the troops to retreat. As soon as the Feng army lands, intercept immediately.”
Just as this order was given, a muffled explosion came from the sea. A few seconds later, a deep crater blasted open on the beach not far from the crowd, with shrapnel and shockwaves sweeping the surroundings.
More and more shells rained down, attacking the garrison troops and witches on the shore.
“Retreat, retreat immediately!”
A commander roared, waving a flag to order the soldiers to withdraw.
He had just finished shouting when a shell landed right beside him. With a “boom,” the fireball expanded, and this commander was blasted flying.
He wasn’t dead yet, but his iron-like body immediately failed, and he was severely injured.
This was why Nalan Yan ordered the troops to retreat. The Great Feng warships were equipped with cannons and ballistas – powerful, long-range, and numerous. Guarding the coast would result in being bombarded to death.
They had originally thought the Great Witch’s magic could annihilate the entire fleet, but the participation of the Jiao Clan had deprived the Witch God Cult of this advantage.
The best response now was to retreat, and then use the mountain paths and forests leading to Jing Mountain City for defense.
This task could only be accomplished by sacrificing the lives of the garrison troops. The battlefield was the witches’ home ground. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a battlefield, but the witches’ headquarters.
The most terrifying tactic of using corpse soldiers was immediately off the table.
Crucially, even if they could raise a large number of corpse soldiers as the war intensified, these corpse soldiers would likely all be people from Jing Mountain City…
This was the worst strategy.
As for the best strategy, in Nalan Yan’s view, it was simple. As long as the Great Witch took action and killed that green-robed figure on the spot, the Great Feng army would be without a leader, and their combat power would immediately be reduced by half.
Wei Yuan was just an ordinary mortal who had lost his cultivation.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Shell after shell crashed onto the shore, bolt after bolt sank into the ground, causing massive casualties among the Witch God Cult’s troops. The scene descended into chaos.
The Great Feng warships advanced unstoppably, approaching the coast.
At the bow, that green-robed figure stood proudly, but his gaze was not on the crowd on the shore but on the hemp-robed figure at the peak of Jing Mountain.
One stood on the cliff, bathed in bright sunlight, with a gentle breeze and warm sunshine.
One stood amid the vast ocean, under dark clouds and surging waves.
The world seemed to be divided into two distinct halves.
Two gentle gazes met across the distance.
At this moment, a streak of black light flew in from the southwest, stopping above the Witch God Cult crowd. With a wave of his wide sleeves, he deflected dozens of shells.
“Elder Yierbou…”
The witches sighed in relief. Their cursing techniques, corpse control, and other methods couldn’t be used against the Great Feng army from a distance, and witches not skilled in defense couldn’t even block the artillery attacks.
Fifth-Rank Sacrificial Witches and Fourth-Rank Dream Witches could summon martial spirit heroes to transform themselves into unparalleled warriors. But this was meaningless because the Great Feng warships surely had more high-ranking martial artists.
They were the true martial artists.
It wasn’t that the witches weren’t strong enough. On the contrary, witches had mysterious methods and were invincible on the battlefield. But the current situation seemed to have instantly deprived the witches of most of their specialties.
During the Shanhai Pass campaign years ago, many battles were lost inexplicably, and many still didn’t understand why they had lost.
But now, the appearance of a Third-Rank which was enough to make up for all shortcomings. There was an unbridgeable gulf between Third-Rank and Fourth-Rank.
Yierbou stood in mid-air, looking at the green-robed figure on the flagship. He frowned slightly, took out three copper coins, and divined for himself. The divination showed: Auspicious!
He immediately relaxed and loudly ordered, “Retreat, spread out to guard the official roads and forests. Every hundred men form a team, with one witch assigned to each team.”
After giving the order, Yierbou put away the coins and quickly formed a set of hand seals, summoning a not-quite-real shadow in the air in his head.
Yierbou’s blood energy surged, his muscles bursting through his robes, transforming into a giant tens of feet tall.
This giant rode the black light, shooting towards the flagship, towards Wei Yuan.
On deck, the soldiers quickly turned their cannons and ballistas, trying to stop Yierbou.
The cannons and crossbow bolts shattered to pieces on his body. Before a Third-Rank “martial artist,” shells and bolts couldn’t harm him in the slightest.
At this moment, the expectation and joy on the Witch God Cult side formed a stark contrast with the worry and anger on the Great Feng army side.
The aura of a Third-Rank “martial artist” was like a tidal wave, like a storm, making the green robe flutter wildly. All the pressure seemed to converge on Wei Yuan alone.
This man with graying temples and eyes full of vicissitudes finally gently raised his hand.
He gripped the giant’s neck.
His five fingers suddenly exerted force. With a “boom,” the not-quite-real shadow above Giant Yierbou’s head instantly shattered.
“Commendable courage!”
Wei Yuan said with a gentle smile.