Chapter 452: Competition (1/2)

[V5C159 – A Distance Within Reach]

All the generals were shocked. Even those fierce generals who knew nothing but war understood this was greatly inappropriate. They stopped Zhao Weihuang in a hurry and did their best to dissuade him. “Lord Duke, you must not!”

“Lord Duke, please reconsider!”

The generals barely managed to hold back the furious Zhao Weihuang by working together frantically. It was fine no matter what Zhao Weihuang did on the Western Continent, but crossing over to the Qin continent with an army was tantamount to rebellion. It wouldn’t do even if he was only attacking those aristocratic families.

After his anger had subsided, Zhao Weihuang also understood that his methods weren’t feasible. But he still couldn’t swallow his anger no matter what—he immediately picked up a paper, wrote down several names, and tossed it to the generals. “Go and investigate! Dig up information on all members, organizations, and estates belonging to these families on the Western Continent. I want them all wiped out within seven days! This duke must strike their name’s off from this place.”

The generals glanced at one another.

It was an unwritten rule that the enmity born in the bloody battle stays in the bloody battle. It was also a general rule for similar imperial operations of the past. Even the number one Green Sun Zhang clan only swallowed their anger after suffering huge losses in the Song clan’s hands back then—even Zhang Boqian didn’t stir up trouble after becoming the fifth heavenly monarch.

Presently, Zhao Weihuang’s actions were equal to breaking this unwritten rule, and an unending flow of disputes would surely follow once this example had been set. But this was nothing compared to marching on the Qin continent. As such, the generals accepted their orders and left to attend to them.

The anger on Zhao Weihuang’s countenance faded slightly and turned to gloominess as he paced about the wrecked study with his hands behind his back. The Fire Beacon Corps’ actions would soon enter those people’s ears before long and should at least make them slightly more apprehensive.

“Imperial Party!” A furious Zhao Weihuang uttered these words through clenched teeth, green veins popping on the back of his hand.

There were many new nobles in the Imperial Party who had risen without any background. They were eager to accomplish, and their methods were cruel, extreme, and unpredictable. The major clans still considered their manner and prestige at the very least; they were fairly cautious and rarely burned their bridges or went to the extremes. But these new nobles and their henchmen were different—their policy was to seek fortune amidst danger.

As the bloody battle went on, the descendants invested into it from each family steadily increased. Three out of Zhao Weihuang’s four sons were already on the bloody battlefield, the only exception being the eldest Zhao Junxiao who had already surpassed the origin power limits. The second son, Zhao Junhong—who had just reached the champion rank less than a month ago—had also led his squad into the Iron Curtain in a hurry. Zhao Weihuang, in spite of his anger, couldn’t help but feel some worry.

In a complex region of alternating mountains and rivers within the Dark Nation, a fierce battle had been raging on for many days. Nearly twenty combat units had gathered in this insignificant area to form an incomparably chaotic situation. Battles were raging not only between the dark races and the imperial forces, but also among themselves, and the cruelty of these internal conflicts even exceeded the faction battles.

After several days of chaotic battle, some of the dark race tribal units had started to form an encirclement, blocking off the important passages surrounding the battlefield. What surprised the dark races was that the infighting among the imperials was growing more and more intense despite the unfavorable situation. They were fighting with such ardor that they had even pushed the dark races to the side.

Ten-odd Zhao clan warriors were recuperating within a hidden cave halfway up a mountain. Most of them were injured, while two were immobile and unconscious—it was unknown whether they were dead or alive.

The atmosphere in the cave was fairly oppressive. Some of the Zhao clan warriors were treating their injuries, some with lighter wounds were cultivating, while others were maintaining their armaments—it seemed they had just experienced a bitter fight. However, the warriors in the group were likely elite veterans of a hundred wars. They knew exactly how to preserve their strength despite the disadvantageous situation.

A well-equipped warrior was crouching at the entrance of the cave with his sniper rifle aimed at the distant forest, the scope of which was darting between the trees, valleys, and hills. He suddenly noticed an abnormal movement in the forest and immediately shifted his aim there.

As expected, a group of soldiers walked out from the amidst the trees. Clearly relaxed after seeing their leader, the vigilant sniper turned back and said, “Fourth Young Master as returned.”

It was exactly Zhao Jundu who had walked out from the forest. A fair length of time had passed since he joined the battle, and his appearance was now quite different from the outset. The black hair usually maintained by a famous dresser was now extremely short, having been shave casually with a combat knife; his handsome, almost flawless face was now covered with thick camouflage paint.

The robe on his body was in tatters, revealing the damaged, black armor underneath. There were blade cuts all over his body along with several unhealed injuries. A strand of fresh blood trickled down from his arms and hands and flowed out of his sleeve—even the Blue Firmament in his hand was stained with blood.

The Zhao Jundu before the bloody battle could be considered cold, detached, and transcendent, but the current him seemed to have returned to the human world and was suffused with the frosty intent of murder.

Only those eyes were as clear and bright as before.

Zhao Jundu was holding a human head in his hand with blood dripping down occasionally from the cut surface of its neck. The person’s eyes were wide open, his expression frozen in that last moment of extreme shock. Meanwhile, there were a dozen-odd Zhao clan soldiers behind Zhao Jundu. It was just that all of them were injured and most of them seriously so—there were even two men with missing arms and legs.

Zhao Jundu walked toward the cave but halted his steps before he had traveled very far. Violet flames erupted from his eyes as he gazed coldly toward the front. The muzzle of the Blue Firmament was also raised slightly and started flickering with origin power.

The scenery in front of Zhao Jundu suddenly distorted as a woman in wide-sleeved robes appeared out of thin air. A flash of lightning flickered through the heaven and earth the moment she opened her eyes, illuminating the miserable mountains and rivers for an instant!

The veteran Zhao clan warriors lost all color as they recognized the lady’s identity!

She was the Bai clan’s hope and the empire’s celebrated legend, Bai Aotu.