21: Taking the Initiative

Because he had successfully slain the barbarian chieftain, his trial evaluation increased by another ten percent. On the ground lay a star core and a faintly glowing axe inscribed with stellar sigils, which Chen Longshi eagerly picked up. Unfortunately, it was not a skill star core, but merely a core of star energy—refining it would enhance his star power and aid his cultivation. Since his current focus was on body forging, he had little need for such cores and casually tossed it into Tuntun’s demon-belly storage. The axe was a second-tier star weapon with fifteen seals, and possessed a homing effect—it would return automatically when thrown. While this effect had its flaws, making it easy for others to exploit, it seemed to pair well with his own telekinetic abilities.

Zhi Jiang gazed at the massive headless corpse on the ground, her expression complex. “I never imagined we’d be able to slay the barbarian chieftain this time. Something the City of the King has failed to achieve for so many years has been accomplished today.”

Ji Bu, unable to contain his excitement, said, “Princess, now that we’ve found a way to eliminate the undying monsters, even death in battle will no longer be a meaningless sacrifice. There will be more victories like this in the future.”

“Yes.” Zhi Jiang looked gratefully at Chen Longshi, who was tossing the axe from hand to hand.

Just then, a deep drumbeat rumbled from within the city. Zhi Jiang’s face changed. “This is bad—the undying monsters have breached the city!”

“How is that possible?” Ou Lian was incredulous. Only a short while ago, he had boasted about the city’s impregnable defenses.

“All units, return to the city!” Zhi Jiang called out.

No one dared tarry. They quickly gathered the bodies of fallen comrades, mounted their warhorses, and sped back toward the city at breakneck speed.

Within the walls, chaos reigned. The undying monsters, along with several barbarians, were killing and burning indiscriminately. No one knew how they had gotten inside. With turmoil in the city, the skeletal army outside seized the moment to launch an assault, attacking from both within and without, overwhelming the defenders. Fortunately, Zhi Jiang returned in time to stabilize the situation.

It was also Chen Longshi’s first time encountering another pillar of the city—Ya-fu Qu Chenzi. The elder had a head of white hair and beard that floated in the breeze, his posture upright and features striking, exuding an air of immortality and sagehood. He coordinated the city’s defense from atop the walls, a steady presence akin to an anchor in a storm. Despite his advanced age, he held the line, nullifying wave after wave of attacks from the undying creatures. The situation, while dire, was not yet hopeless. Three to four hundred undying monsters were not enough to breach the City of the King; at most, they would cause a period of unrest.

Chen Longshi saw Ou Lian, furious, hacking an undying sword-servant to pieces. An idea flashed in his mind and he said to Zhi Jiang, “Capture a couple alive—they may be useful.”

Zhi Jiang did not ask for an explanation, nodding in agreement.

The knights swiftly quelled the chaos in the city, their morale high. Ji Bu even requested permission to lead the elite outside the walls, to meet the skeletal army head-on.

Ordinarily, Zhi Jiang would not have allowed such a thing. But this time, she answered without hesitation, “General, be careful. Do not become enamored with battle. What matters most is the safety of the scholar.”

“Rest assured, Princess,” Ji Bu replied. “Even if it costs my life, I will not allow harm to come to the scholar.”

The skeletal general outside the walls clearly did not expect the timid humans to fling open the gates and confront them directly. Caught off guard, their formation grew chaotic, their assault uncoordinated.

Ji Bu led the charge, his warhammer swinging with the force of a tempest, each blow like a meteor crashing into the sea, sending shockwaves through the enemy ranks. Sometimes his hammer transformed into thousands of drill points, spinning and boring through the air. Now, with his brute strength amplified by star power, every exhale and inhale saw enemies sent flying. It was a tactic he had developed specifically for fighting undying monsters—every strike aimed to shatter them completely, maximizing damage and attrition.

Such an aggressive style easily placed him in danger, but with Ou Lian and Chen Longshi guarding his flanks, he could focus solely on the onslaught, unleashing the full might of his hammer. Ou Lian was to Ji Bu’s left, wielding two swords—one blue, one red—both razor-sharp and chilling to behold.

He showed no restraint with his star power, unleashing torrents of sword energy, venting the fury he felt at the monsters’ infiltration. His movements were swift and precise, and combined with the sharpness of his blades, he felled the skeletal sword-servants with ruthless efficiency—every swing claimed a foe.

“Ou Lian, don’t rush ahead! Protect the scholar!” Ji Bu bellowed.

Ou Lian snapped to attention, and even in the midst of the storm, kept a vigilant eye on Chen Longshi.

Chen Longshi’s spear became a dragon in his hands, meeting force with force—his technique disciplined, his presence commanding, his strikes as fast as thunder. It was the bearing of a true master, especially suited to the chaos of battle. Any monster he encountered was either beheaded or sent flying by the spear’s impact, their bones shattered, the soul-flames in their skulls flickering faintly as they struggled to repair the damage.

But then, a flying dagger with an eye pierced one’s skull—the soul flame dimmed, instinctively trying to escape and flee to the Tomb of King Chu, only to be swallowed whole by an invisible maw of darkness.

The skeletal army’s greatest mistake was underestimating the City of the King’s resolve to fight to the death. This time, the defenders’ ferocity surpassed even that of the undying monsters. With their ranks devastated and resurrection growing ever rarer, sparks of flame flickered in the skeletal general’s hollow eyes—he did not act rashly, but signaled a retreat, leading the remaining hundred or so followers back into the shadows.

“General, the enemy is retreating,” someone called out.

Ji Bu returned from the slaughter, “Don’t pursue a desperate enemy. Organize the defenses and prepare for a last-ditch attack.”

The battlefield fell silent. Then, someone shouted, “Have we… won?”

“We’ve won—!”

“Nine-Headed Bird above, I killed three undying knights today! Xiu’er, your father has avenged you!”

Some warriors wept with joy. Shouts of triumph rang out across the field, echoing up the walls and into the city, where all joined in the jubilant chorus.

After the battlefield was cleared and they’d returned within the walls, Ou Lian saw his kin celebrating and felt his eyes grow hot. How long had it been since a day like this? He knew that all these changes were due to Chen Longshi’s arrival. Even the undying monsters burrowing in from underground and emerging from the wells had been foreseen by him. Yet he himself had been arrogant, boasting of unbreachable defenses and nearly causing disaster. The more he thought about it, the more remorseful he became. He found Chen Longshi and knelt on one knee. “Master, please forgive my earlier disrespect.”

Chen Longshi was startled and quickly pulled him up. “Master Ou, what offense could there have been? I never thought you had acted improperly.”

Ou Lian shook his head. “No, I harbored selfish thoughts and contradicted you at every turn. I nearly brought calamity upon us.”

“You have the heart of a child, Master Ou—there’s no fault in that. It need not be mentioned again,” Chen Longshi said. “There are many collapsed houses and unknown casualties in the city. Your duties are far more important than wasting time on a mere idler like myself.”

Seeing that Chen Longshi truly bore no grudge, Ou Lian relaxed and, feeling embarrassed by his own pettiness, gave a respectful bow before leaving.

Shortly after he departed, Zhi Jiang arrived, her expression anxious. “Sir, I heard that Ou Lian came to see you alone. He means well but sometimes his temper gets the better of him. If he said anything—”

Before she could finish, Chen Longshi gently pressed two fingers to her soft lips.

Zhi Jiang’s mind went blank. When she realized what had happened, her face flushed crimson. She covered her mouth and stumbled back several steps, forgetting entirely what she had meant to say.

Chen Longshi smiled. “Your Highness, the most urgent matter now is to block the monsters’ routes into the city. To mend the pen after the sheep are lost is not too late. Moreover, now that I have revealed the means to prevent the undying monsters’ resurrection, the Tomb of King Chu will likely suspect as much after this battle. Preparations must be made swiftly.”

Zhi Jiang’s expression grew serious. “Do you think the Tomb of King Chu will take further action? Could they send out their entire force?”

“It is only my guess—no one can say if King Chu himself will act.” Indeed, the unfolding events in this trial realm had surpassed his expectations. This world was as real as any cycle of reincarnation; to treat these people as mere scripted characters would be the height of foolishness.

Zhi Jiang nodded gravely. “I’ll go discuss this with the elders right away. You must rest, sir—you’ve worked hard all day.”

After she left, Chen Longshi began to take stock of his gains. Tuntun had feasted well but had not devoured everything at once—the human corpses were left untouched. Otherwise, the bodies, drained of soul and essence, would have crumbled at a touch, instantly revealing the truth. Even so, his store of soul food had grown to 59,630—enough to cultivate five strands of Dao thought.

Yet a deeper worry gnawed at Chen Longshi. The trial realm could be entered repeatedly, but now, with all these monsters’ souls devoured and unable to resurrect, would this damage the trial space itself after he cleared it?

He shook his head. There was no use worrying about such things—he hadn’t even completed the trial yet.

That night was destined to be a sleepless one, full of urgency and labor.

Zhi Jiang returned to her chambers only at dawn, utterly exhausted but unable to suppress the excitement in her heart. Quietly, she made her way to Chen Longshi’s room. Finding the door firmly shut, she felt a faint pang of disappointment.

She thought this man was shrouded in mystery—his sudden appearance, his miraculous abilities that had broken the undying monsters’ greatest advantage, his crucial role in repelling the barbarians and the skeletal army. The people of the city now reveled in their fleeting victory, and all of it was thanks in large part to him.

Yet he acted solely out of his commitment to vanquishing demons and evil—a truly admirable quality.

As the cherished daughter of the Nine-Headed Bird spirit, Zhi Jiang had long been accustomed to shouldering the city’s burdens alone. Now, someone else had stepped in to share that weight, and though events were spinning further from her control, she found herself enjoying the change.

Carrying the weight of everything alone was simply too exhausting.

Lying in bed, Zhi Jiang found herself unable to sleep, tossing and turning with thoughts of that man. Only as dawn broke did she finally drift off into a deep slumber.