Chapter 137: Blade Momentum

The lightning connected with the thunderclouds above to form a massive cage, within which the lightning interwove into a web. Dozens of cavalrymen were instantly reduced to charcoal, feeding their energy back into the spiritual crystals within Ling Chi's body.

In the flash of an eye, the entire battlefield resounded with battle cries.

Blades clashed against armor, spears met hammers, muffled groans echoed endlessly, and the sound of sharp weapons piercing flesh rang out continuously as lives were gradually extinguished between heaven and earth.

The flag-commanders and elite officers of the Peace-Pacification Bureau channeled their baleful aura, charging into the scattered black-armored cavalry.

The latter gradually recovered from their disadvantage, forming a battle formation of baleful energy with their comrades to fight the Peace-Pacification Bureau.

For a time, the two sides locked in a fierce and inextricable battle.

Ling Chi leaped into the enemy ranks, charging left and right, fighting a relentless battle.

With a sweep of his right arm, his horse-slaying saber slashed downward diagonally, cutting two front-line cavalrymen and their horses into four pieces.

"Heng!" "Ha!"

His spiritual attack was triggered, and a tiny dragon of thunder mist burst forth from his nose and mouth, unleashing a ring-shaped shockwave.

The area several feet around Ling Chi was cleared instantly, and over a thousand strands of thunder spiritual energy fed back into him.

Sensing its master's intense fighting intent, the horse-slaying saber vibrated and emitted a resonant, piercing cry.

He immediately shifted his direction to continue the slaughter, his horse-slaying saber flying up and down as arcs of blade light shot outward.

He cycled through his saber techniques, starting from the Taiyi Crossing-Tribulation Saber, progressing through the Seven-Star Saber Technique, down to basic saber moves—every technique he had learned in his past and present lives was unleashed once more.

As if experiencing a sudden epiphany, Ling Chi leaped into the air and brought down a strike imbued with killing intent. A silvery-white blade light emerged from the weapon, gradually turning blood-red halfway through its trajectory.

A saber intent, completely distinct from Zhao Qing's, was born and then soared into the sky. This saber intent was suffused with towering murderous qi, dyeing nearly half the sky red.

Sensing the change, Zhao Qing glanced over toward Ling Chi, utterly shocked in his heart. As a saber cultivator, he knew better than anyone how difficult it was to comprehend saber intent.

The vast majority of saber cultivators could only look up to it for the rest of their lives, catching a glimpse of the threshold but never managing to cross it.

Yet his young disciple, at only sixteen years of age, had comprehended such a saber intent. Such talent was exceptionally rare no matter where one went.

He only wondered how much slaughter the boy had experienced to condense such a heaven-defying saber intent. This level of murderous intent was already capable of affecting the minds of those at the same realm of cultivation.

However, he had great confidence in his little disciple. Unlike others, Ling Chi never wavered from his goal of pursuing the pinnacle of martial arts; his firmness of will left even Zhao Qing astonished.

Filled with profound emotion, Zhao Qing's own fractured saber intent also soared into the sky. The two saber intents complemented each other from left to right while simultaneously engaging in mutual competition.

Dividing his focus, Ling Chi calmly experienced this saber intent amidst the slaughter. Without needing to analyze it, he knew this saber intent was condensed almost entirely from his own pure murderous will.

He named it the Slaughter Saber Intent—once the blade was drawn, it meant certain death.

Watching the master and disciple execute their saber intents so wholeheartedly in battle, Cao Hubao made no effort to conceal the envy in his eyes.

Ling Chi's saber technique grew even more suffused with murderous intent. The horse-slaying saber cleaved through the air, sending out gouts of blood-red light, and even the blade itself seemed to have delicate crimson threads creeping across its surface.

The ground littered with severed limbs and broken bodies gradually destroyed the fighting spirit of the Black-Armored Army. Ling Chi buried himself in the slaughter until not a single enemy remained standing before him.

The battlefield had largely become a one-sided rout, and the Black-Armored Army was struck with bone-deep terror.

Their leading commander was beaten to death with a single club by Cao Hubao, while Zhao Qing's sweeping gale saber intent whistled through the air, sending a string of heads flying.

The number of casualties inflicted by Ling Chi was even greater. All were equal beneath the lightning, and the Black-Armored Army fell in droves.

The remaining soldiers lost all will to fight, discarded their weapons, and dropped to their knees in surrender.

Uncharacteristically, Ling Chi did not press the pursuit to the bitter end. Having absorbed four to five thousand strands of thunder spiritual energy from the continuous slaughter, and having comprehended the Slaughter Saber Intent, he casually found a spot nearby to sit cross-legged and regulate his breathing.

Not a single flag-officer from the Peace-Pacification Bureau cleaning up the battlefield dared to disturb him. As they passed by, they deliberately slowed their footsteps, terrified of waking this god of slaughter.

The Black-Armored Cavalry, which had numbered close to two thousand upon arrival, now had only two or three hundred survivors, the majority of whom were injured.

Tethered together in a long line and guarded to the side, these men hung their heads in despair, awaiting whatever fate had in store for them.

Meanwhile, the He residence in Wu County was shrouded in a pall of gloom.

As the administrative seat of Hezhu, Wu County was naturally the crown jewel of the region, and the He family estate occupied over a hundred acres right in the heart of the town.

Its painted beams and carved pillars were exquisitely magnificent, but no one within the He family cared about such luxuries right now. Everyone was busy packing items and loading carriages, looking as though they were preparing for a long journey.

*Crack!*

With a crisp sound, a maid's body flew backward out of the study, her life extinguished instantly.

Xuan Zhixian was, after all, at the late Qi Sea realm; how could an ordinary maid withstand a strike delivered in a fit of rage?

"Why is there still no news from the eldest? Didn't we send the Black-Armored Cavalry to look for them?"

Xuan Zhixian's furious roar shook the roof tiles loose.

"No news has come back from the Black-Armored Army yet. This subordinate has already sent a message to Chen Fang of the Heavenly Illumination Gang, asking him to keep an eye out as well."

His personal guard replied in a muffled, cautious tone.

"Depending on the trash of the Heavenly Illumination Gang means you wouldn't even get a warm meal. I brought them in purely to cause trouble for Cao Hubao."

Slamming his palm down and shattering the desk, he felt a rising tide of intense unease.

The guard did not dare to answer, standing rigidly before him in trembling fear.

"How is the packing outside? Go immediately and inform my wife and second brother—we can wait no longer. We are retreating into Mount Li immediately."

The ominous premonition clawing at Xuan Zhixian's heart left him thoroughly unsettled, prompting him to make a decisive, snap decision to withdraw.

The guard breathed a long sigh of relief inwardly; he had survived yet another day.

Not far from the battleground in Guan County, the rumbling sound of hooves approached from afar. The vanguard of the Brave and Resolute Camp had arrived, albeit late.

The battle-hardened soldiers of the vanguard stared at the chaotic battlefield before them in speechless silence.

The scorched earth blasted black by lightning, the scattered corpses of men and beasts, the shattered and strewn military equipment, and the ravaged, scarred earth.

The vanguard soldiers exchanged glances, unable to fathom how a mere few hundred men from the Peace-Pacification Bureau could face heavily armored cavalry outnumbering them seven or eightfold and still emerge victorious.

They quietly joined the ranks cleaning up the battlefield, moving in absolute silence. This world had always belonged to the strong.

This was especially true within the military, where the bigger one's fists, the greater one's right to speak. The same principle applied here—they respected only the strong.

The dark thunderclouds in the sky quietly dissipated unnoticed, and sunlight spilled once more across the land. The corpses piled high on the ground were buried in hastily dug trenches by the soldiers to prevent the outbreak of disease.

Sitting cross-legged in a corner of the battlefield, Ling Chi regulated his breath as his breathing technique operated automatically. The spiritual energy of heaven and earth gathered around him like a thin mist, prompting quiet murmurs of wonder from the surrounding soldiers.

They had not witnessed Ling Chi's fierce rampage firsthand, but having heard the men of the Peace-Pacification Bureau describe how terrifying and violent this scholarly, handsome youth was, his moniker of the Fierce Tiger began to quietly spread among the ranks.

The fierce battle had fed back over ten thousand strands of thunder spiritual energy to Ling Chi, bringing him within striking distance of the Spirit Pearl realm.

Ling Chi discovered a wisp of blood-colored aura, cloud-like and misty, wandering within his heart. The moment his spiritual sense made contact with it, a murderous will akin to a sea of blood and mountains of corpses rushed at him like a breached floodgate.

His expression remained unchanged, his heartbeat steady and normal. Mere murderous will dared to dream of corrupting him.