Legend Of Fuyao 82 Against All Odds

Outside the tent, the general named Old Ha abruptly made a flip backward, and still, in mid-air, he ordered gravely, "a.s.sa.s.sin! Archers gather!"

Before he could finish his sentence, a black shadow flashed by as a slender figure shot out from inside of the tent. In a quick, wind-like movement and a one-handed wave, the figure had already reached his chest.

On the jade-colored blade ray, the general's shocked expression was reflected. With no time to speak, he staggered backward but was still unable to escape from Meng Fuyao's attack, which was infused with Cleaving Nine Heavens' inner energy.

An arm came loose and rolled to the dusted ground, coloring the sand red.

Because of their distance, her blade hadn't been able to destroy the enemy. Nevertheless, it was too late for her to execute another slash, and layer upon layer of soldiers were already surging toward the injured general like man-eating ants.

They piled up like the ocean and the mountains.

Blood ocean, sword mountains.

It was a time for a ma.s.sacre and lives to be lost; it was a time for flesh to turn to mud, and for corpses to be tossed everywhere.

By this point, she had completely zoned out from all emotions and turned into a killing machine. She leaped into the ocean filled with flesh and reflections of the weapon rays, her long black sword flas.h.i.+ng incessantly. Like Moses splitting the Red Sea, Meng Fuyao created blossoming red waves, amid which she stood, spotlighted. Carrying along the cutting breeze and blood-and-flesh rain, and like a colorfully-dressed soldier, every step she took cast a bloodied footprint onto the ground, and every step she took, broken limbs flew.

She lost count of the number of lives she had taken. Neither did she count the wounds on her body. While the surrounding soldiers attacked blindly with their spears, their sheer number made it impossible for her to dodge every strike. Nevertheless, she no longer remembered how pain felt as she was numbed by the intense close-range battle.

How many had died, exactly? She had no idea. All she realized was the unevenness of the ground beneath her, due to the number of corpses. As such, she was forced to kick them away upon killing. The corpses that flew from her kick exploded in mid-air, creating more blood rain that soon fell upon the next wave of soon-to-be victims... endless killing was what it was.

At the start of the year, on the 16th year under the emperor's reign, the Rong army trapped Yaocheng with 50,000 soldiers to stand against the city's mayor, who had only 800 guards. Within half a month of guarding the city, the mayor had taken three officers down, and through four consecutive battles, thousand lives had been lost, and the Rong army had failed... The mayor had faked a surrender, enduring humiliation and criticism alone without backing down, pledged an alliance with the general of the Rong army, pierced her chest, started a ma.s.sacre, killing all seven leaders, been surrounded by the Rong soldiers but not given up. She brandished her sword, creating a blood sea... It was a battle between thousands of soldiers and herself, and she had done it. It was a scene that had not been repeated hundred years since...

It was a crippling ma.s.sacre, in which the corpses beneath her feet seemed to transform into blood-colored vines that broke through the yellow sand. A vine forest was formed, and she was being bound by the whizzing vines...

Meng Fuyao was tired; even her inner energy was about to be depleted from the consecutive killings. Despite being prepared that she was about to get rid of a big bowl of human flesh before her arrival, she was unable to handle the endless waves of enemies. She looked up, and it seemed to her that the number of soldiers she was up against hadn't been reduced. They surged forward as fast as before, and in comparison to them, those she had killed made up only a drop in the ocean.

Meng Fuyao's arms were already aching, and she was about to lose control of her sword. Nevertheless, she had enough energy left to commit suicide. Letting out a bitter laugh she habitually stabbed her sword into the heart of an incoming soldier. While considering if she should stab herself next, she heard an abnormal movement.

It sounded as though a similar scene was unfolding elsewhere. Grieved cries and the shattering of bones could be heard against one another. These sounds were being produced at not one but three separate spots. If she tiptoed, she could even see the commotion that was happening in front. There were three spots near the gates where blades were being slashed, and flesh was being sliced. The soldiers attacking her turned around in shock.

Meng Fuyao took a moment to loosen herself, before jumping onto a pile of corpses. She spotted ten over men in black, killing with inner energy not weaker than her own. They were split, five in each spot, fighting their way through the crowd of soldiers to break formation. They had successfully alarmed the huge troops and caused a commotion. She could easily tell that those men were specially trained, elite fighters.

Why was there a group of men a.s.sisting her at this point? Meng Fuyao wondered in astonishment. She hadn't seen the secret guards following Yuan Zhaoxu before, so naturally, she wasn't aware of their existence.

A man in black, who had charged furthest into the formation, had already seen her and made a gesture, signaling for her to get closer to him. Meng Fuyao inhaled deeply, gathering all remnants of energy and waving her sword once more.

Yet another hour pa.s.sed, and she finally reached the man in black. Their bodies were filled with fresh blood and minced flesh, and Meng Fuyao's vision was almost blurred by all the blood. Only two out of four men were left beside him.

They gathered, and the man in black appeared happy. Without hesitation, he started, "Miss Meng, I've been ordered by my Master to protect you. Please believe us–––"

"Is there any reason for me not to?" Meng Fuyao interrupted with a laugh. "Let's charge."

She was beyond tired and could barely stand steady even with the help of her sword. In spite of that, the smile on her face remained as bright and clear as ever. The man in black couldn't help but sigh inwardly. He thought about the other woman by his Master's side and compared both of them. He shook his head soon after, immediately tossing his thought aside.

He turned to Meng Fuyao and shouted, "Go!"

A whole night of killing ensued.

Under the protection of the gradually reducing guards, Meng Fuyao fought her way through the formation, finally catching sight of Yaocheng's gates. The sky had brightened significantly.

A strong gust of wind blew from behind and carried a thick b.l.o.o.d.y smell with it. Under the leaders.h.i.+p of their general, who had already lost a limb, the Rongs soldiers pursued them relentlessly.

Meng Fuyao scanned her surroundings and noted that only four of them were left. Of the fifteen guards, a third had been killed. The men who had accompanied her in this b.l.o.o.d.y journey had fallen off their horse one by one, instantly being trampled on by the enemy horses. Despite witnessing all of these, she was only able to charge forward with tears in her eyes.

She finally spotted the city gate. Meng Fuyao breathed a sigh of relief. If all fifteen of them had died because of her, she really wouldn't be able to tell it to Yuan Zhaoxu's face.

The moment she relaxed her body the wounds all over started aching. She felt as though her bones were about to fall apart. She struggled and shouted toward the gate, "Open up! I'm back!"

The valiant hors.e.m.e.n were approaching speedily, and Meng Fuyao could almost hear the clattering of hooves. Yet, there seemed to be no movement above the city gate toward, as the soldiers guarding the city stood behind and simply looked at her.

In bitter realization, Meng Fuyao hurriedly raised the head that she had tied to her waist. "I faked a surrender. This is Tutie Muer, the army chief! The leaders are almost all dead, and they would be gone within three days. That's for sure! Open up! Quick!"

Dead silence. The soldiers inside the city even walked away.

The clattering of hooves was getting louder and almost thunder-like. A black cloud rose from the horizon and enveloped the scene.

The Rong army was arriving.

Meng Fuyao rushed to the gate, raised her whip and gave the wall a good slap. The wall cracked, and like the dust that rose from the ground, she yelled anxiously, "Open up! They're coming! Are you trying to kill me?"

"Who's able to recognize this head?" A cold voice probed from behind the wall. "Open up and let you traitors kill us all?"

Meng Fuyao's heart sank, her vision turning black. She collapsed from her horse, and the man in black quickly dashed forward to provide support. She could vaguely hear him groan afterward.

She turned around and saw an arrow sticking into his shoulder. They had arrived!

Old Ha, the general with a broken limb, laughed. "Mayor Meng, who do you think is going to open the door for you? You went against your word. The big chief isn't going to be happy!"

Meng Fuyao whipped her head around and shot a death glare. Old Ha shuddered involuntarily, and his inner energy-channeled laughter had already echoed deep into the city. Not just those on the tower but even those far within the city had heard it.

Bang!

Tie Cheng slammed against the city gate from the inside. He had been kicked forward by a bunch of Hansmen. They pointed outside the city and laughed wildly, "You foolish Rong dog. Have you heard what he said? Go open the door for your lady owner since you claim that she's innocent."

Tie Cheng's face was covered in blood, and one of his legs was broken. He coughed, leaving traces of blood on the ground. "No means no!" he yelled in fury.

He stabilized himself and prepared to open the gate when a group of Hansmen and Rongsmen charged forward to beat him up. It was a ball of mess.

Tie Cheng cared about no one and nothing else. He had heard the killing outside and was determined and anxious to open the gate, only to see an additional silver lock that wasn't there before. Failing to break it with his inner energy, Tie Cheng pulled his sword out after some thought.