The Blade-Wielding Legend

He said in a low voice, "That night, when you and Little Five Dragons wrecked the Evil God’s Relics down in the underground cavern, that snow mist evil miasma outside scattered by seventy to eighty percent on the spot! Marshal Gao seized the moment, and the firearms and cannons of the artillery camp blasted apart the Japan Ghost Soldiers!"

"The Liaodong Iron Cavalry and cultivators from our various sects took advantage of the momentum and swept in to slaughter. The remaining routed troops, not a single one escaped—every last one was hacked down to the ground, or taken prisoner!"

He paused, the excitement on his face slightly withdrawing, and lowered his voice: "However, from the information pried out of a few tongues we captured... they confessed that that Jianmu Demon Zhao Changsheng really had been within the army before!"

"And his status wasn’t low—seems he was dressed as some sort of ’Military Adviser and Sacrificial Officer’. Unfortunately, right in the chaos when the evil mist dispersed and the main force counterattacked, that bastard vanished like a ghost’s shadow, leaving no trace behind!"

"Master Yu Chanzi personally searched hundreds of miles around, and didn’t even find a single hair!"

"Zhao Changsheng!" Li Yan’s gaze instantly turned dark and sharp.

That name was like a poisoned thorn, driven deep into his heart from the day he left Li Family Castle.

Every time he pursued the trail, every time he seemed about to brush the edge of the truth, in the end he would discover that the shadow of the man hiding beneath the surface was even vaster, even more terrifying.

He took a deep breath, tugging at the injuries in his organs, and another bout of fierce coughing racked him.

Wang Daoxuan hurriedly passed over the waterskin.

Li Yan took a few gulps, pressing down the bloody taste rising in his throat. The gloom in his eyes, however, settled and hardened. "Cough, cough... it’s nothing. He may escape once, but he won’t escape a second time. We’ve already got hold of his tail. As long as he’s still a piece on this board, sooner or later he’ll slip up."

"Next time, we’ll tear him out by the roots."

Wang Daoxuan continued, "The army rested for a few days, tallied the casualties, and replenished grain and equipment. After Marshal Gao, Master Yu Chanzi, Heavenly Master Zhang and the others discussed matters, they decided to press the advantage, continue driving the army south, and strike straight at the southernmost seaport of the Korea Peninsula."

"I hear there used to be several decent docks over there. Once we take that place, our Great Xuan tower-ship fleet will be able to berth, laying a bridgehead for the expedition against Japan’s main island! By estimation, it’s only another two or three days’ march."

Several days later, the army finally reached the southern end of the Korea Peninsula.

Along the way, the sights could only be described as ’horrific to behold’.

The once-inhabited Goryeo villages and towns were ten households with nine empty; amid broken walls and collapsed eaves, weeds ran riot, and crows clamored on charred beams. From time to time they could see surviving Goryeo commoners, each and every one sallow and emaciated, eyes numb and vacant, hiding deep within the ruins like birds startled by a bowstring.

The Royal Capital that had once served as the capital of Korea had even more thoroughly become a vast wasteland.

The once-prosperous palace complexes and towers had only scorched foundations and toppled, massive stone pillars remaining; shards of fine roof tiles lay mixed in the mud, brutally trampled by hooves.

Even the battle-hardened Liaodong veterans felt a heavy weight in their chests when faced with this desolate ruin.

At dusk, the setting sun was like blood, staining the horizon a harsh, dark red.

The army finally reached the designated coastal area.

Here the terrain was relatively open, backed by a stretch of low hills, with the surging sea right in front.

The exhausted soldiers received orders and began unloading the baggage and supplies, preparing to make camp.

The soldiers of the engineering corps shouted to each other as they started cutting the sparse trees nearby to build palisades.

The camp cooks sought suitable spots to dig earth stoves.

The whinnying of warhorses, the clanging of iron, and the calls as orders were passed interwove, dispelling the deathly stillness.

At that moment, as if responding to some invisible command, almost everyone who was busy—from engineers swinging sledgehammers, to cooks bent over digging stoves, from officers on horseback patrolling, to cultivators sitting cross-legged to regulate their breathing—had their movements stall for an instant without exception.

A hard-to-describe unease, springing from sheer instinct, seized every person.

Countless gazes, all at once, turned toward the sea.

Only to see, against the backdrop of the blood-red afterglow of sunset and the sea fog that was gradually spreading, that on the previously empty line of deep blue horizon, at some unknown moment, dense black dots had silently appeared, like a swarm of locusts.

The black dots swelled quickly, their ferocious outlines emerging.

Ships!

More ships than could be counted!

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