He imdiately shouted out loud.
But still, he was a bit too late.
Amid the chaotic crowd, a figure had sohow snuck up behind an evil cultivator unnoticed.
All of a sudden, he lunged out, thrusting his spear straight into the evil cultivator’s back.
"Boom!"
The evil cultivator, separated from his formation and relying on his defensive magical artifact for protection, hadn’t considered the Black Mountain Army behind him a threat.
Many Black Mountain Army attacks were deflected by the spiritual light from his artifact as soon as they got close.
But he never expected that, in this mont, a trendous force would slam into his back, with a sharp aura piercing through the artifact’s spiritual barrier and stabbing deep into his body—the spear tip t clear resistance as it hit flesh.
The evil cultivator’s body erupted with a burst of spiritual light, his fra swelling rapidly, and as his body expanded, his defenses escalated as well.
Unfortunately, five months earlier, if faced with such an outburst, Lu Chang’sheng would probably have had no choice but to retreat and evade. But now, channeling the power of the Five Stocks, his spearhead seed even sharper, breaking through the defenses in one go and stabbing into his heart and lungs.
"Boom!"
A scorching wave rushed at Lu Chang’sheng head-on—he didn’t even bother to pull out his spear, just rolled aside on the spot. Instantly, he felt a wave of heat brush overhead as a fireball the size of a head shot past, leaving a twisted tunnel of hot air in its wake.
Right after, a shrill scream erupted behind him—the fireball exploded among the Black Mountain Army, instantly engulfing four or five figures.
More people nearby were singed by flying sparks, crying out in pain.
"A spell!"
Lu Chang’sheng’s scalp tingled, but he knew: that guy was dead for sure.
Spells are the ans of immortals—like water control, fire control, sword control, and so on.
These spells are incredibly powerful, far stronger than sothing like the Elephant Armor Skill, but they also drain a massive amount of magical power.
That’s precisely why the evil cultivators hadn’t used such spells up until now.
A second-layer Qi Cultivation practitioner only has juice for two or three spells tops; after that, they’re running on empty, and their survival chances nosedive.
This evil cultivator had already burned so magic power earlier, and now, after hurling a fireball, found himself drained of more than half his reserves.
And that would be bad enough—because even with no magical power left, a cultivator is still on par with a Martial Saint—but right now, there was a spear stuck in his back, and the tip was laced with deadly poison.
So the evil cultivator quickly realized a wave of excruciating pain was spreading through his body. Knowing he’d been poisoned, he scrambled to escape the battlefield, summon his treasure vault immortal insect, and grab an antitoxic pill to save himself.
Summoning a treasure vault immortal insect takes a few seconds.
But Zhou Dingyuan, watching intently from afar, instantly sensed the kill opportunity and ordered his personal elite to press in.
These elites had followed him for years—every single one was a True Qi Realm martial artist, and over half were top-tier True Qi Realm.
The mont they moved, the collapsing formation was forcibly steadied, trend reversed on the spot.
A swarm of True Qi Realm warriors surged forth, fearless of death, not giving the enemy a single breath of respite. In the end, seeing no way out, that evil cultivator burned his remaining magical power, killing dozens of True Qi martial artists and hundreds of Black Mountain Army soldiers, before finally being ensnared, having his dharma body dissipated, and eting his end under a rain of blades.
As the evil cultivator fell, many in the Black Mountain Army were exhilarated, as if injected with fresh courage. Under Zhou Dingyuan’s command, the formation was quickly reorganized.
anwhile, Lu Chang’sheng had already blended into the crowd, moving constantly to keep his identity hidden.
Though now a first-layer Qi Cultivator, neither his spells nor cultivation thods could compare to those evil cultivators—a head-on fight was a death sentence.
Now, having killed one evil cultivator, the pressure on Zhu Er was greatly reduced. Add to this the constant flow of new troops, backed with a ton of bows and crossbows, and the evil cultivators were suddenly in a really tough spot.
If it was just Zhu Er, the five of them might have been confident they could take him down—but with the endless sea of mortal troops, maybe a hundred thousand strong, not to ntion a Lu Chang’sheng sneaking around in disguise, things were looking rough.
So, after a day-long standoff, the five evil cultivators slipped away into the night, seething with hate, disappearing into the darkness.
Only then did Lu Chang’sheng finally breathe easy, feeling truly relieved.
"Thank god they’re gone. Otherwise, we’d have to fight to the bloody end."
If Zhu Er was killed, with the whole Great Yuan this vast, Lu Chang’sheng would have had nowhere left to stand.
After the evil cultivators left, the soldiers couldn’t let down their guard just yet. Under the coordination of the various martial officers, the ranks were reassembled—if the evil cultivators were only pretending to retreat, ready to charge back in, everyone would be ready to counterattack on a mont’s notice.
Fortunately, by dawn, the evil cultivators still hadn’t shown themselves.
It was then that the Empress herself finally appeared, offering comfort to the troops.
"Zhu Er seems to think highly of Zhu Qing. Zhu Qing’s spirit root talent must be quite impressive."
Lu Chang’sheng put himself back together, saw the soldiers each returning to their posts, and took off the Black Mountain Army armor he was wearing.
But the mont he did, he drew a lot of attention.
"Scholar Lu?"
A martial officer looked twice before daring to speak.
He wasn’t from this sector, so he didn’t know about Lu Chang’sheng’s heroic feat of wounding an evil cultivator—but even so, no way he’d look down on soone like him.
Still, the whole thing struck him as odd.
Why was Scholar Lu wearing Black Mountain Army armor? Was he trying to sneak off?
The martial officer felt a bit contemptuous inside.
Today’s battle had been a bloodbath—of over a hundred thousand troops, nearly twenty thousand had died. If not for Zhu Er holding the line, that number could have easily doubled or tripled.
The gap between cultivators and mortals is just too damn big—especially for those who’ve cultivated the Warrior Dharma Body. One hit and they could decimate dozens of regular soldiers.
In the face of all that slaughter, seeing Lu Chang’sheng acting like this gave the martial officer a bad feeling inside.
But before Lu Chang’sheng could get away, a martial officer clad in black armor strode over and said respectfully, "So this is where Scholar Lu is. May I ask for a word?"
"General Liao!" The other officer, seeing who it was, called out quickly.
The man nodded, then looked at Lu Chang’sheng, his face showing the sa mix of fear and respect as the other officer.
He seed a bit awed and intimidated.
This surprised the martial officer.
General Liao was Zhou Dingyuan’s right-hand man, but unlike Zhou’s calm strategic genius, he was a killing machine—
The single sharpest blade at Zhou Dingyuan’s side, renowned for charging straight into the thick of battle.
People like him hated cowardice most of all—he despised those rat types.
Yet here he was, showing that kind of respect to Lu Chang’sheng—the martial officer was shocked.
Could it be that Scholar Lu had done sothing truly extraordinary?
Curious, he asked so of the soldiers around him. He quickly learned the truth, and suddenly his heart started pounding like a drum.
"Scholar Lu is actually the biggest hero in killing the evil cultivator!"
And it wasn’t just him.
As ti passed, word quickly spread through the entire army.
Soon, Scholar Lu’s na was the talk of the camp. With over a hundred thousand n, there were bound to be so who saw his actions as less than honorable, though.
Especially since so had seen the evil cultivator’s face turn black right before dying—obviously poisoned.
The polite ones said he was "steady."
The harsh ones called him dirty.
The Black Mountain Army were still just Prefecture Soldiers; if it had been Zhou Dingyuan’s personal troops, there’d have been no complaints about such thods.
For real battle-hardened elites, if a blade can kill, no one cares where it’s from—and nobody’s picky about how you win.
Soon enough, soone gave Lu Chang’sheng a nickna: the "Black Snake Scholar."
The black snake is a poisonous snake, a master of camouflage that hides in rotting leaves—its scales change to match its surroundings.
When prey cos close, it bites in an instant, injects venom, and then darts away.
After the venom kills its prey, it circles back to devour it.
Clearly, that’s where Lu Chang’sheng’s "Black Snake Scholar" na ca from.
As for Lu Chang’sheng himself, he still had no idea. He followed General Liao to et Zhou Dingyuan.
The latter was sitting in a chair, still dressed in an ordinary Black Mountain Army breastplate.
The old fox—cautious as always, and steady as hell!
Lu Chang’sheng thought to himself.
The n around him were armoured up, flashy as could be—Zhou Dingyuan himself, though, just wore standard gear.
If those evil cultivators ca charging in again, it’d be tough for them to pick out the real target in the confusion.
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