37 Fleeing Once More (1/2)
Hooves clattered amid the silence, but it was Yuan Zhaoxu, galloping toward them with his robes fluttering loudly. Despite his urgent stance, he looked as cheerful as usual.
”Open the door,” he ordered in a clear voice that wasn't loud.
”You've gone mad!” Yan Jingchen jerked his head around, yelling. ”We'll die!”
Yuan Zhaoxu looked up with a shallow smile while twirling the rein between his fingers. He wasn't interested in having a conversation with Yan Jingchen.
Zhan Beiye, on the hand, laughed. ”You'll be a fool if you don't open it. Who's going to get thrashed in a fight between 80,000 overpowering imperial soldiers and 50,000 gearless city guards? Open the door, and you can join forces with the gunmen, bringing the battle into the palace. There's lesser space for the guards to utilize their weapons, and they aren't as familiar with the layout as your people. Won't the outcome be less definite that way?”
He then turned to Yuan Zhaoxu, his brows perking up. ”You're a talent, and I hope to gift you a good beating on the battlefield one day.”
”Feeling's mutual.” Yuan Zhaoxu waved smilingly.
Their gazes clashed in midair, seemingly producing a clanging sound as the sky was suddenly overtaken by rumbling clouds and blazing electricity. A muffled roll of thunder could be heard from afar, but it was pressing in on the seas and lands.
A pact destined to influence the fate of the Five Region Continent had been made by two exceptional individuals and imprinted into the sky.
Their gazes collided impactfully before both men turned and walked off in opposite directions. Zhan Beiye let out a prolonged laughter, a fiery passion and desire invading the space between his brows.
A snow-white furball popped its head out from Yuan Zhaoxu's robe and climbed onto his shoulder before lifting its fat bum up toward the brazenly egotistical punk and letting out a fart.
The palace door finally opened.
Meng Fuyao stared on as it happened, still amazed by her luck. The duo had foolishly gone in the wrong direction and then had their plans ruined by Yuan Zhaoxu. They had lost all hope upon spotting the heavily guarded doors, but the unexpected arrival of another army had saved their lives. Thankfully, the arson had paid off.
Zhan Beiye lowered his head to look at Pei Yuan. ”I want to kill you so bad, but to take a resistless girl down... aye, I can't,” he said with a frown.
He looked at Yun Hen with pleading eyes, only to be dismissed with a glare.
Vexed, Zhan Beiye added, ”Then again, you probably feel that this is worse than death, so I'll do you a favor.”
At that, he flung Pei Yuan up and outward, her body swinging high into the air and falling down like a dried leaf. Before she landed, Zhan Beiye retrieved his sword and slashed it upward, its blade flashing under the moonlight.
A miserable cry filled the air. Fresh blood spurted out from her shoulder, staining Yan Jingchen's face as he instinctively rushed forward to catch her.
A bloodied hole was visible on her left shoulder, and there was no flesh within.
Even her bare, white bone had been pierced.
”The second hole,” Zhan Beiye muttered under his flittering hair and sharp eyes. ”8 more to go.”
Despite being unaware of his pledge, Meng Fuyao roared heartlessly in laughter, pulling up her sleeves and teasing. ”Aye, aye, how lewd, Master!”
Upon hearing that remark, Master Zhan's face turned black.
”Ah,” Meng Fuyao uttered in surprise as the door opened. She had never seen in her life such a messy battle that involved more than 100,000 men. Now that she had witnessed it for herself, she was convinced that there was a limit to the human imagination. Reality was the cruelest and the most brutal.
What entered her field of vision was an endless stretch of black figures and a spacious parade ground that was stained, like the yellow in the moon and the blue in the ocean, a rose red. It was a different sea, piled from waves of scattered flesh and bones, and the exhausting struggle between countless beast-like men. Murderous growls harmonized with the howls of wind as these men went tearing at one another's heads.
The red-armored, yellow-robed soldiers quickly surrounded the black-armored, golden-robed guards. It appeared as though two huge snakes, one red and the other black, were twisting and coiling around each other while pieces of meat flew in all directions. Anguished wails offered company as freshly produced blood splattered high into the sky, turning it as red as the ground.
Zhan Beiye and Yun Hen were both elite fighters, so a sight like that did not shock them as much. Without batting an eyelid, they focused on protecting Meng Fuyao and charging forward. The trio kicked approaching bodies and broken limbs away, conveniently stabbing at the frenzied, incoming soldiers. Not even two steps later, their faces were covered in blood and with scrap pieces of flesh.
Amid the hurry, Meng Fuyao turned around to look at Yuan Zhaoxu, who was seated on his horse, in front of the palace door. He was sitting quietly, observing the scene unfolding before him, ignoring Qi Xunyi's army and only returning Meng Fuyao's gaze.
The front piece of his plain silk robe flapped in the darkness, catching the moonlight. His sleeves, resembling those of the immortals residing in the highest of heavens, fluttered gracefully as he held back the reins amid the blood rain, as noble and elegant as before.
Meng Fuyao was being swept forward, further and further away from Yuan Zhaoxu. Nevertheless, she could still feel his soft, willow-like gaze floating toward and brushing against her back, which made her skin warm and tingly, almost aching.
She bit her lips, feeling rather gloomy. Weren't these people too excessive? Still scheming for Qi Xunyi at this stage and not wanting to leave? She didn't hate the fact that Yuan Zhaoxu was standing on the other side. Politics was a matter separate from personal attachments. In fact, from a different angle, she was spoiling his plans.