Climbing Laoye Mountain was a tornt for most n.
For Li Daoxuan, however, it was rely… inconvenient.
His chanical body did not rely on muscle or breath, nor did it burn calories like a living human. It moved through a system of esoteric energies far removed from flesh and bone. Exhaustion, strictly speaking, did not exist.
But power still obeyed rules.
The strength a Tianzun body could exert was proportional to its size.
The scout-type Tianzun—small and compact—could only manage limited force.
The human-sized Test-02 Tianzun possessed strength roughly equivalent to an ordinary adult male.
As for the towering eight-ter Tianzun he had deployed in Jishan, that one had been a true giant, capable of uprooting trees and smashing stone.
Such was the hierarchy of esoteric chanics.
Li Daoxuan had just been indulging in this quiet sense of superiority when—
Crack!
A sharp sound rang out beneath his foot.
The stepping stone, firm enough for any ordinary soldier, split cleanly in two under his weight.
Before he could react, the ground vanished.
With a dull, crashing roar, Li Daoxuan plunged into a narrow ditch below. His excessive weight crushed vines, shrubs, and roots alike, stripping the ditch walls bare as though a tal plow had been driven straight through the mountain.
Dust billowed.
Leaves scattered.
For a brief mont, everything went silent.
"Ah?" Zhang Fengyi's voice rang out, startled. "Mr. Xiao! Are you alright?!"
A mont later, Li Daoxuan pushed himself upright from the ditch, brushing dirt from his sleeves.
"I'm fine," he said cheerfully. "Not a scratch."
Zhang Fengyi let out a relieved breath. "These mountain paths are harsh. It must be difficult for you, following us through such remote ravines."
"Not at all," Li Daoxuan replied, placing both hands and feet against the slope and slowly hauling himself up. "Just a minor mishap."
It took him a bit of effort to climb out, but once he did, he laughed softly.
"Let's continue. This is actually quite fun."
The Next Morning
At dawn, Li Daoxuan imdiately co-sensed into the box.
The White Pole Soldiers were already awake.
Not only awake—prepared.
Defensive positions had been established along the mountainside, and soldiers moved with practiced efficiency, adjusting formations and checking weapons.
A militia soldier approached quietly and whispered, "Last night, Zijing Liang's forces reached the foot of the mountain. They lit torches and shouted for hours, trying to intimidate us."
Li Daoxuan rely humd. "Oh."
"They wouldn't dare climb in the dark," the soldier added. "This mountain is unfamiliar. A night ascent would be suicide. They'll attack during daylight."
Li Daoxuan nodded inwardly.
At least this isn't Houjia Village, he thought.
The butterfly effect shouldn't be this vicious… right?
He turned his attention to the defensive layout.
Stone platforms had been stacked into circular fortifications along the slope—small, compact, and deceptively simple. Archers already occupied them, bows strung, arrows laid out in neat bundles.
Though the Sichuan White Pole Soldiers were fad for their white pole spears, it had never ant they were limited to a single weapon.
Most carried bows.
A select few bore Three-Eyed Arquebuses.
Li Daoxuan recognized them imdiately.
In his forr life, he had visited the ruins of Wan Shou Zhai, where excavated Three-Eyed Arquebuses were displayed behind glass. Seeing them now, in the hands of living soldiers, felt surreal—but not surprising.
Zhang Fengyi noticed his gaze and smiled wryly. "Our arquebuses are crude, Mr. Xiao. They can't compare to the firearms your troops wield."
Li Daoxuan smiled back. "There's always room for exchange. Given ti, I could help you improve them."
Zhang Fengyi shook her head and sighed. "Firearms devour silver. Wan Shou Zhai can barely afford grain. In our holand, the Tujia people still struggle to eat their fill—how could we indulge in such luxuries? These Three-Eyed Arquebuses were begged from the imperial court."
Li Daoxuan nodded and let the matter drop.
Privately, he had no intention of advancing the White Pole Soldiers' firepower just yet.
Qin Liangyu was loyal to the bone. If he strengthened her forces too early, she might very well turn those guns against his future "new era army."
That bridge could wait—until power had been decided.
A horn suddenly sounded from below the mountain.
Long. Harsh. nacing.
Zijing Liang's rebel army began its assault.
They surged upward like a black tide, bodies spilling across the slopes in overwhelming numbers. From above, it looked less like an army and more like a flood of ants pouring from a broken nest.
The White Pole Soldiers responded instantly.
Logs and boulders—prepared the night before—were shoved free. They thundered downhill, crushing everything in their path. Arrows followed in dense waves, and the Three-Eyed Arquebuses barked, belching smoke and fire.
The stone platforms transford into interlocking firing points.
From the rebels' perspective, death ca not just from above—but from the sides.
A brutal 270-degree crossfire enveloped the climbing forces.
The sensation was suffocating.
The rebels fired arrows in return, but shooting uphill was a fool's task. The stone platforms absorbed most of the impact, and what arrows did reach their targets lacked force.
A handful of fearless bandits finally reached the platforms, scrambling upward with desperate roars.
They never stood a chance.
White pole spears flashed.
Their movents were fluid, coordinated, rciless. The bandits couldn't parry, couldn't retreat. In seconds, they were impaled and killed—then their bodies were unceremoniously shoved back down the slope.
Flesh joined stone.
Each impact triggered fresh screams below.
Before long, the leading rebels broke.
No amount of shouting from the rear could force them forward again. Retreat began as a trickle—then beca a collapse.
The mountain fell silent.
Only corpses, broken weapons, and scattered arrows littered the slope.
Li Daoxuan hadn't fired a single shot.
He watched, exhilarated, as history unfolded exactly as it should.
"The Sichuan White Pole Soldiers truly deserve their reputation," he said sincerely. "This is masterful mountain warfare."
For the rest of the day, the rebels did not dare attack again.
They attempted to probe the flanks, sending small detachnts to search for alternative routes. But Zhang Fengyi had anticipated this long ago.
Hidden ambush teams lay in wait.
Each rebel scout that crept too close was t with a sudden volley of arrows—and never returned.
By dusk, Zijing Liang's forces were forced to camp at the base of the mountain, frustrated and bloodied.
As twilight settled, Zhang Fengyi studied the enemy encampnt below and chuckled softly.
"There's an old saying," she said. "'To defend a city, one must first clear the surrounding camps.' A mountain is no different."
She turned to Li Daoxuan, eyes gleaming.
"We raid them tonight."
Li Daoxuan laughed. "A thousand against fifty thousand—and you still plan a night raid. General Zhang, your confidence is impressive."
Zhang Fengyi smiled.
"Confidence," she said calmly, "cos from knowing where your enemy cannot stand."
Reviews
All reviews (0)