Chapter 35: If Bai Qi Could Kill, Why Can't I?

“Regicide and traitor, will you not surrender?”

An old general rode out, his horsewhip pointed distantly at Lu Ge.

Lu Ge narrowed his eyes and looked over.

“Who are you?”

The old general stroked his beard slightly and said, “I am Lian Po.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Lu Ge’s face.

“Lian Po?”

“The one who bore thorns to ask for punishment?”

“I’ve long admired your name.”

Lu Ge cupped his hands respectfully.

Whether in this world or in the eras after Lu Ge, Lian Po’s reputation was deeply ingrained in the hearts of the people.

“Since you know my name, then bind yourself quickly.”

“Otherwise, when tens of thousands of arrows rain down, if you perish here, do not say I did not warn you.”

Lian Po’s expression was cold and stern.

Even if this Daoist Patriarch could summon wind and rain, it was impossible to cause a sudden flood of overwhelming magnitude.

On our side, a single volley of arrows could turn him into a porcupine.

Lu Ge glanced around at the tens of thousands of soldiers, their murderous aura piercing the air.

“Old General, I truly respect you.”

“But you leading them here to die is putting me in a difficult position.”

Lu Ge’s face showed hesitation.

“My principle has always been: how others treat me is how I treat them.”

“Today, you come with an army to kill me; aren’t you forcing me to unleash a slaughter?”

“Do you want me to become the second butcher god after Bai Qi?”

“That would ruin my reputation.”

Hearing Lu Ge’s words, Lian Po’s chest heaved with anger.

Putting aside that Bai Qi was deeply hated by the state of Zhao for his deeds, which were a national disgrace,

Lu Ge’s words seemed to belittle both himself and Zhao far too much.

Bai Qi fought against two armies.

And you?

Do you think you can face tens of thousands on your own?

“Arrogant!”

Lian Po pointed furiously at Lu Ge.

“This is your last chance. Surrender.”

“Otherwise, I will order the archers to fire.”

As his words fell, the sounds of bowstrings being drawn rang out.

Countless arrows were placed on bows, pointing obliquely toward the sky, ready to be released.

The spot where Lu Ge stood could instantly become a death trap.

“Alas.”

“Zhao first endured the Battle of Changping, then the Battle of Handan.”

“These soldiers, I fear, are the last of Zhao’s strength.”

“Old General, I respect you, so I advise you once more: retreat swiftly.”

“Otherwise, if you drag Zhao into an endless abyss, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Lu Ge’s expression gradually grew serious, his eyes locked onto Lian Po.

The two confronted each other across the air, the atmosphere thickening.

Lian Po could not retreat now.

If the man who killed their king were allowed to leave Zhao openly and unchallenged,

Zhao would become a laughingstock.

His right hand slowly raised, and from his mouth came two words:

“Fire!”

His large hand swept down, and in an instant, countless arrows soared into the sky, plunging toward Lu Ge.

Lu Ge looked up slightly; the blazing sun was instantly obscured by the arrow storm.

“You started this,” he murmured.

With a sweeping gesture of his long sleeve, a violent wind sprang up from the ground.

This wind was extraordinary.

Starting as an eight-level gale, its force kept intensifying.

The wind seemed alive, gathering and rising to meet the thousands of arrows.

The fierce wind roared like a dragon, sweeping across the heavens.

The arrow storm was instantly shattered, dispersed helplessly in all directions.

Not a single arrow fell before Lu Ge.

Lian Po stared dumbfounded at the scene.

“How… how is this possible?”

Lu Ge sighed softly.

“Old General, I suppose you’ve never been to the seaside.”

“The winds there are truly mighty.”

“When a typhoon passes, houses are destroyed, and all living creatures perish.”

“But no matter, today you get to witness it yourself; consider it a feast for your eyes.”

With that, his right hand clenched lightly into a fist.

The roaring wind instantly condensed into four visible tornadoes.

To the east, south, west, and north, the tornadoes moved slowly forward.

Where they passed, Zhao soldiers were swept into the air, screaming and struggling amid the swirling vortexes.

Lian Po felt coldness in his limbs.

He knew Lu Ge could summon the wind and rain, but he never imagined the wind’s power was so overwhelming.

“Old General, this time your crimes are great.”

“Tens of thousands of Zhao soldiers perish here; this isn’t something a bundle of thorns can atone for.”

Lu Ge stood still, speaking calmly.

Lian Po’s face turned pale, his eyes fixed on Lu Ge.

“These are tens of thousands of men. Do you really dare to slaughter them all?”

Killing one, ten, or a hundred is not difficult.

But to kill tens of thousands at once—that number is overwhelming.

Ordinary people could never bear it psychologically.

But Lu Ge was no ordinary man.

He cultivated the Supreme Path of Detachment.

Those who walk the Supreme Path of Detachment act with reason above all else.

All emotions and desires are suppressed, merely auxiliaries.

“If Bai Qi could kill, why can’t I?”

“Besides, I warned you long ago. You chose not to listen.”

“The fact that they die here today is all your doing.”

As he spoke, Lu Ge turned and returned to his carriage.

“There’s no obstacle ahead. Let’s go.”

Shen Zhong nodded blankly, glancing at the sweeping fierce winds and the struggling Zhao soldiers within.

The Patriarch is truly a deity.

Not only he, but Lü Buwei and Zi Chu in the following carriages were also stunned.

They knew Lu Ge was strong, but never imagined he was this powerful.

He was truly a one-man army.

No wonder he refused to fly away with them directly.

If he had, it would have been an insult to the Patriarch’s dignity.

With his strength, the Patriarch could walk openly anywhere in the world.

No one could stop him.

The three carriages moved forward slowly, the vast fierce winds intentionally avoiding them, not touching them at all.

Lu Ge did not kill Lian Po, even allowing the fierce winds to skirt around him.

It was not mercy, but because Lian Po, though seemingly alive, was already dead in spirit.

This time, Zhao’s last bit of vitality was utterly destroyed by him.

If Lian Po dared return to Handan and reenter the royal palace, that would be a feat of great courage.

“The late king watches from above. This old servant failed to avenge you.”

“I have also caused the deaths of tens of thousands of young men; my sins are unforgivable.”

“I have no face to return to the palace and report.”

“Only death can repay the world.”

Lian Po’s voice was carried by the wind into the carriage.

Shen Dao drew back the curtain.

Lian Po had already dismounted, his hair disheveled, a sword held across his body, blood splattered three feet around.

“Patriarch, Lian Po has taken his own life.”

Lu Ge nodded.

“Mm, understood.”

“I advised him many times, but he would not listen. Such a result is no one else’s fault.”

Shen Dao sighed and remained silent.

Tens of thousands of Zhao soldiers perished in one battle, and news quickly spread throughout the land.

Many could not sleep because of it.

Especially the monarchs of various states, each sitting uneasily.

This Daoist Lu Zi was terrifying beyond measure.

He killed a king and left calmly, then casually annihilated tens of thousands of troops.

Was he even human?

All but one monarch.

The ruler of Qin.

His smile was about to split his face.