The wind and snow danced rapidly, following the blurry figures and flying in a clockwise direction in the air. Gradually, they connected into countless lines, looking like the wool woven into a ball in the boudoir of a private house, or the cocoon silk spat out by a spring silkworm in the south of the Yangtze River. They turned into a ball, covering all the figures trapped in the moment of crisis.
This white snowy ball was not still. Instead, it retreated with a strange speed toward Taiji Palace behind the snowy ground. No one knew what kind of thoughts the warriors inside had used to ensure that the rapidly spinning snowy threads were not blown into scattered snow by the wind.
Earlier, when Thirteenth Wang and Haitang had floated out of Taiji Palace, they had opened two doors. At this moment, Taiji Palace was like a giant beast made of shadows. It opened its mouth and prepared to swallow the round and massive snowball into its stomach in one gulp. It was completely dark inside.
However, the palace doors were not completely open. The mouth was too small. When the snowball floated to the front doors of Taiji Palace, it was a bit larger than the doors. Snowball quickly hit the door of the hall, but strangely did not make a sound. The wooden door carved with complex patterns was instantly destroyed by the killing intent and battle intent contained in Snowball's melding force. Deep scars instantly appeared on the wooden door, and like a withered twig and rotten wood, the door dispersed.
Perhaps tens of thousands of years of time could silently destroy everything like this. However, this thing made of hazy snowy threads also produced such a powerful effect. The snowflakes, which should have been weak, became like countless sharp steel knives as they spun at high speed, slicing through everything in the air.
Such a terrifying effect was because the Great Grandmaster in that space was already at the peak of his realm.
…
…
The snowball pierced through the air, flying over the long imperial path and crashing beneath the imperial platform. There was another sound, and with a boom, the snowball exploded. Snowflakes shot out in all directions like sharp arrows, striking the entire Taiji Palace until it began to tremble. The great beams did not show any signs of breaking, but the beautiful and magnificent palace furnishings had all been smashed into rubble!
A number of figures shot out. Thirteenth Wang and Haitang fell dispiritedly into the rubble. Fresh blood sprayed wildly. Thirteenth Wang's arm had long been twisted into strands of flesh and blood. All of his meridians were severed.
The shadow who stabbed the last sword was wearing a white robe and was lying on the ground in front of the imperial platform. His head was covered in blood and he was not moving at all. It was unknown whether he was dead or alive. The sword in his hand was weakly held in his hand and there was a bloodstain on the tip of the sword.
In the end, this plain sword was unable to pierce through the blood at the base of the Emperor's thigh. Under such circumstances, the Shadow's killing blow had clearly pierced into the Emperor's flesh. However, as it traveled from the outside of the Palace to the inside, heaven and earth shook. The wind and objects moved everywhere. The tip of the sword could not even tremble or move an inch. In the end, it was shaken out of the Emperor's body. It was futile.
During this period of time, His Majesty relied on his vast zhenqi cultivation and the will of the Way of the King to release a domineering force, suppressing everyone in the entire space into the realm of Perfect Harmony. In this realm, His Majesty's will was the rule of all actions, and no one could resist it!
The bright yellow shadow appeared particularly eye-catching on the messy imperial platform. The Emperor continued to stand straight and did not even glance at the dragon chair that had become a pile of rotten wood behind him. His face was pale. His hands, which were exposed outside his sleeves, trembled slightly. Although he was injured, he was still insufferably arrogant and undefeatable.
…
…
The Shadow lying on the ground in front of the imperial platform like a dead fish suddenly moved. He floated up just like that. His white robes fluttered in the wind. Blood dripped from the corner of his lips. A vicious sword thrust toward the Emperor's throat.
The thrust missed. This should have been expected. The Shadow's face was pale. Mixed with blood, he spat out a word, "Retreat!"
When he sent out his last strike, his body had already swiftly drifted backward. He had not been able to kill the Emperor with his first strike, so he would not have another chance today. Although the Shadow wholeheartedly wanted to avenge Chen Pingping, who had suffered a thousand cuts, he was, in the end, an assassin. Of the four people who had entered the Palace to assassinate, even if his gaze was the most vicious and his state of mind the steadiest, he would still drift away and retreat after one strike. He was only worried that the two heavily injured young aces would continue to fight with the Emperor without regard for their lives. That was why he had yelled out.
Before the sound of this one word had even fallen, three figures in the Taiji Palace, which had already become a mess, whistled through the air, rushing out of the palace. Haitang Duoduo, who was the least injured, fell at the very back. Her flowery cotton-padded jacket unfurled, transforming into a flower shadow that bloomed in the gloomy space of the palace.
The moment the flower disappeared, the three upper-ninth-level aces also disappeared from Taiji Palace. The Emperor continued to stand silently on the imperial platform. Surprisingly, he did not give chase. Earlier, when the powerful and unyielding domain had been unleashed, the three aces had been heavily injured and could no longer recover. They were already at the end of their strength when they fled the palace. If the Emperor attacked now, presumably, he could easily kill the three of them.
The Emperor did not move. He only quietly lowered his head and spread out his hands. He felt the chill and pain from his neck. He looked at the cut open flesh on his chest, seeping through the bright yellow dragon robe.
There was also the bloody hole at the base of his thigh.
A clear pain traveled into his brain from three places. It made this powerful Emperor feel a little dazed. How long had it been since he had been injured? Even three years ago on Dong Mountain, when he faced Ku He and Sigu Jian, the Emperor had only used up the Vast Han zhenqi he had nurtured for a lifetime and the unparalleled spirit and aura. Now, faced with a few mere young people, he had been injured?
The Emperor extended his left hand and wiped it across his chest. Looking at the blood on his pure white palm, he furrowed his brows slightly. He could not suppress the exhaustion he felt. For the first time, he asked himself if he had truly grown old.
A heart-palpitating coldness flashed through his eyes. He knew the four people who had acted today. There was no need to mention An Zhi. That brat was actually able to use the External Sword Qi today. His talent and diligence were indeed impressive. As for the Shadow, he had been following that old dog all this time but had been hiding in the space where the Emperor existed. The number one assassin in the world was indeed impressive.
As for Ku He and Sigu Jian's two last disciples, the Emperor was not unfamiliar with them. Although he had never seen Haitang Duoduo, he knew this Northern Qi saint girl very well. He knew of the relationship between her and Fan Xian. Back then, the Emperor had even thought about having Fan Xian marry this woman. Thirteenth Wang … the scene on Dong Mountain that year was deeply engraved in the Emperor's heart and greatly admired.
Other than the Shadow, these three outstanding young people would, without question, be the most extraordinary figures in the world. Although they had failed to assassinate the Emperor together, they had still lost with such vigor. The Emperor could not help but admire them and not want to kill them.
The Emperor slowly walked out of the quiet Taiji Palace. Step by step, he slowly sorted out the Tyrannical zhenqi that had begun to show signs of instability in his body. His expression was cold, and his eyes were unusually cold. Calmly, he looked at the Palace doors that had already been successfully opened by Fan Xian and a few others.
He did not care how Fan Xian and the others had been able to open the Palace doors under the noses of the imperial soldiers and guards. He also did not worry about whether these thorns in his bones, the enemies who reminded him with their youthful pride, would disappear into the sea of people.
"Kill them all," the Emperor calmly ordered. It was as if he was narrating a common family matter. Just like this, he confidently and coldly decided on the life and death of the young warriors who had just escaped the Royal Palace. Then, he accepted a brand new, clean dragon robe from the hands of Eunuch Yao, who had just arrived at the door of the Palace, and began to change.
…
…
The Shadow retreated the fastest. He grabbed the half-unconscious Fan Xian from the snowy ground. With a muffled grunt, he forced down the mouthful of fresh blood that had welled up in his body. Like a bird, he floated strangely in the direction of the Palace doors. Behind him, Thirteenth Wang followed in a strange posture. Haitang Duoduo, who had already taken off her patterned jacket and was wearing a plain robe, followed at the back with a calm expression.
All four of them had suffered light or heavy injuries. Climbing over the Palace walls had become a difficult task. They could only charge toward the Palace doors. Everyone knew that the Palace doors facing Taiji Palace were the most heavily guarded in the entire Royal Palace. However, the Shadow coldly charged through without a glimmer of hesitation. This was not because of Fan Xian's orders. Rather, it was because he was a person of Dongyi and knew what the Sword Hut had the most.
The trump card the Northern Qi people had used earlier was the giant city-guarding crossbow in one of the corner towers of the Royal Palace. When that muffled sound rang out, the imperial soldiers and guards in the Royal Palace finally knew that assassins had come to the Royal Palace. However, the fight to the death in the snow outside Taiji Palace had started and ended too quickly. When the figures of the four warriors charged toward the Palace doors, a portion of the aces in the Imperial Army were heading toward the corner tower of the Royal Palace. The imperial soldiers left at the Palace doors had only just finished organizing their formation like a large net.
However, the moment this net was formed, it was torn apart by the sword light that soared into the sky. Four sharp sword lights that soared into the sky appeared out of nowhere, causing the Imperial Army at the palace gate to fall into chaos. Broken limbs flew everywhere, fresh blood splattered, and miserable cries rang out!
Of the 13 disciples of Dongyi's Sword Hut, other than the people Fan Xian had sent to Jiangnan to protect Su Wenmao and Xia Qifei and a few people left in Dongyi to stabilize the army, there were four ninth-level swordsmen.
No one knew how these ninth-level swordsmen had secretly sneaked into the Royal Palace. Everyone knew that the disciples of the Sword Hut shocked the world with their killing intent. Other than the Sixth Bureau, which was controlled by the Overwatch Council's shadow, no power in the world could resist them when they carried out assassinations.
In just an instant, the imperial soldiers, who could not react in time, were killed into chaos. The heavy Palace doors were also pulled open a crack. Amidst the angry howls of the Imperial Army generals and guards on duty, the four disciples of the Sword Hut coldly took control of the long and serene path of the Palace doors and forcefully carved out a small space. Like wisps of ghosts, they flashed out of the crack in the Palace doors and ran toward the vast and cold square in front of the Royal Palace.
Fan Xian had received the Emperor's finger. His index finger had been completely shattered. His body had been invaded by the valiant Tyrannical zhenqi. If the Meridians in his body were not different from those of normal people and he had cultivated zhenqi of the same nature as the Qing Emperor, his entire body would probably have exploded under that mountain-like finger.
But even though he had survived, he still felt that his meridians had already broken into countless places. Inside and outside of his body, it was as if there were countless red-hot thin iron wires swimming inside his body. His mind was buzzing, and that kind of unbearable pain pierced into his brain. The instinct of humans to protect themselves made it extremely easy for him to faint under this kind of intense pain.
However, Fan Xian could not faint because he knew he had not escaped the Royal Palace alive. His blurry vision had long seen the clear and ruthless sword intents released by the disciples of the Sword Hut. His brows furrowed in pain. He had not arranged for these disciples of the Sword Hut to come. He had not thought of dragging the Sword Hut into this muddy water.
The Shadow was an old official of the Overwatch Council. Haitang was his woman, and Thirteenth Wang was his friend. The three people who had entered the Palace to assassinate were all people Fan Xian had personal connections with. After all, this was a gentleman's battle with the Emperor. It was easy to guess that the Emperor could tolerate Fan Xian finding these people to help. However, if Fan Xian used the power of Dongyi or even Northern Qi, this matter would probably become even more troublesome.
Even more troublesome was the silence outside the Palace. The square in front of the Royal Palace shrouded in white snow was so quiet it was as if there was not a single person there. When the four disciples of the Sword Hut also turned into shadows and escorted Fan Xian and the others onto the snowy ground outside the Royal Palace with their swords, it was as if only the sound of their footsteps could be heard in the entire world. It appeared very quiet.
This kind of death-like silence was too strange. Anyone would know that there was a problem. Although Fan Xian had no intention of using the disciples of the Sword Hut, the path he had arranged to leave the Palace was the same as the Shadow's choice. It was also the front gate of the Royal Palace that no one would have thought of. The reason he had chosen the front gate was because Fan Xian had predicted beforehand that when he entered the Palace to negotiate with the Emperor, the matter of him poisoning He Zongwei to death would have already exploded in Jingdou. The civil officials would certainly come to beg for mercy, and the stubborn Imperial Censors would kneel in the snow and exert endless pressure on the Emperor.
This had already been confirmed by Eunuch Yao's report last night. When Fan Xian and his group escaped from the front gate of the Royal Palace, they should have seen a ground full of officials with faces full of grief and indignation. They should have heard the clamorous sounds of discussion, the white snow had already been trampled into mud, and the servants and servants of each manor were hiding in carriages in the distant streets and alleys. The group of people who had escaped could take advantage of the chaos to escape. Fan Xian had even thought of a way to steal the carriages of each manor.
However, there was nothing, only a vast expanse of white. It was so clean that the only thing they could see were the footprints and faint shadows they left in the snow. The only thing they could hear was their own heavy breathing.
Everyone noticed that something was amiss. The palace gate at the back slowly closed again. Surprisingly, the imperial guards inside did not come out in pursuit. However, Shadow's face was still cold as he flew forward. He knew that something was wrong and that this might be a trap, but what else could they do? Apart from rushing over, rushing over.
The square in front of the Royal Palace was grand and spacious. During the military parade, it had once held 100,000 people. Three years ago, during the Jingdou rebellion, the Qin and Ye families had led armies to surround the Palace. Tens of thousands of soldiers had also gathered there. But today, on top of the thick snow, only this group of people who had fought their way out of the Imperial Palace could be seen. They looked so lonely and pitiful.
From the right side of this lonely group came a series of soft noises. The sporadic fighting at the corner tower of the Royal Palace seemed to have ended. The spies and assassins the Northern Qi had planted in the Qing Kingdom for the longest time had probably been swept clean by the imperial soldiers. At this moment, two figures fell from the vermilion Palace wall at the corner tower.
The Royal Palace was very tall. The speed at which the two figures fell was very fast. It looked like they were about to fall into the snow and die with their bones broken. Unexpectedly, there was an explosive roar in the air. A curved knife flew out from the waist of a figure. It appeared to be messy, but it was actually cleverly chopping. Each time the knife chopped down, it left a deep mark on the newly repaired vermilion Palace wall.
That person used a pair of curved knives and was very powerful. He was able to maintain his figure in the air. The other person's cultivation was clearly weaker. He could only use the sword in his hand to stab into the chain of his companion's knife hilt.
In just a few moments, the two figures fell heavily to the bottom of the Palace wall. The tall and sturdy warrior was not injured. Grabbing his companion, he ran toward the center of the snowy ground. Looking at their direction, it seemed that they were going to meet up with Fan Xian's group.
These two people were one of the few remaining ninth-level aces in Northern Qi. One of them was Master Ku He's last disciple, the foremost ace in the Northern Qi Royal Palace, Lang Tiao. The other was Friar He.
Fan Xian's group had already reached the center of the vast snowy ground. Suddenly, they discovered that a strange companion had suddenly appeared. They couldn't help but be startled.
In order to cooperate with Fan Xian's actions, the Northern Qi Emperor was willing to have his two most powerful generals infiltrate the Qing Kingdom. It could truly be said that he had put down a lot of capital. However, Sir Lang Tiao had just entered Jingdou and had no time to display his true abilities. He only had time to cooperate with the spy hidden in the Palace and use the city-guarding crossbow to fire off a strike. He could only watch as the assassination in front of Taiji Palace began and ended.
A hero's spirit was short. Lang Tiao, with his pure cultivation, was not even able to bring his knife down on the Qing Emperor before he was forced by the Imperial Soldiers to flee from the Royal Palace. Friar He, who was beside him, was injured in the foot and could only be carried by him.
…
…
"Don't run anymore." Fan Xian, who had been carried by the Shadow the entire time, looked at Lang Tiao, who was gradually about to meet up with him. His pupils constricted slightly. Not only was he shocked, but he also felt an absurd anger. Why did the people of the world always think that they could cooperate with everything they wanted to happen? Regardless of whether it was the appearance of the disciples of the Sword Hut or Lang Tiao, they both chilled Fan Xian's heart. He had arranged for so long and plotted for so long. At this moment, he had suddenly lost his foundation. He couldn't help but feel sorrowful.
What made Fan Xian feel even more sorrowful was the silence of the square. A group of people had gathered on the snowy ground in the center of the square. It was not far from the private residences in front of them. It was very close to the T-junction in front of them. However, everyone knew that unknown dangers were waiting for them in those places.
Fan Xian had once again lost to the Emperor and suffered a crushing defeat. The appearance of the disciples of the Sword Hut and Lang Tiao, the two Northern Qi people, made it so that he didn't even have an excuse to save his life. He didn't know that the Emperor had already given the order to kill him in the Palace. He didn't know that his mental battle would not succeed. A faint tiredness rose through his eyes.
The Shadow silently stopped walking. In the wind and snow, Haitang wiped away the blood at the corner of her lips and smiled slightly. She walked to Fan Xian's side, who was sitting in the snow. Crouching down, she tilted her head and said, "I said a long time ago that for you to be so hesitant, wanting to go along with your brother's feelings and not go against your wife's wishes, is truly a very childish way of thinking."
"I just want fewer people to die. In the end, this is a private matter." Fan Xian forced a smile. Sitting in the snow, he felt the coldness from under his butt. "If I was extremely shameless, there would still be tens of thousands of people worshiping me. However, I can't do it. Otherwise, how could I have caused such a scene in the Palace today? "
Thirteenth Wang dragged his bloody arm and walked to his side. In a raspy voice, he said, "At least you tried. Although you lost, it wasn't bad."
Fan Xian spat a mouthful of bloody saliva onto the snowy ground beside him. Gasping for breath, he said, "But I am truly afraid of death." Although he said this, a rarely seen light of peace and happiness rose in his eyes.
"Looks like you don't like my arrival." Lang Tiao walked to Fan Xian's side and calmly said, "It is just that your personal grudge is also our personal grudge, so my arrival has nothing to do with you. Of course, I have to admit that this is the first time I have discovered that killing people has little to do with martial cultivation. In this matter, I appear to be somewhat useless."
Lang Tiao glanced at his junior disciple sister, Haitang Duoduo. He then furrowed his brows at Fan Xian and said, "If Duoduo had been willing to tell me your plan, perhaps today's ending would have been different."
"Oh, perhaps the ending was predetermined long ago. One has to believe in fate. However, if you can carry me out in a moment, I won't say you're useless," Fan Xian said as he looked at Lang Tiao and smiled wretchedly, baring his teeth.
In this vast expanse of white and incomparably quiet snow, this group of assassins, which had gathered the most elite warriors in the world, began to casually chat in the center of the snowy ground. It seemed that no one thought about who would be able to escape once the Qing Kingdom's powerful and terrifying national machinery began to surround and kill them.
The countless imperial soldiers on the palace walls turned into layers of black lines. Bows and arrows in their hands, they stared coldly at the assassins in the snow below the palace walls, ready to fire at any moment. Gong Dian narrowed his eyes and stood in the center. Looking at the people in the snow, his heart felt heavy. He didn't know how Sir Fan junior could still smile at a time like this.
While Fan Xian and the others were talking, the situation in the square in front of the palace walls had long changed. Countless crossbows and arrows poked out from between the seemingly normal private residences. The shining arrows were like a dense mass of killing grass, aimed at the group of people in the center of the snowy ground.
At the closest T-junction, the sound of horse hooves rang out like thunder. Over 2,000 elite riders in metal armor firmly sealed off the area, not leaving any path that could be used.
Who could survive in the direction of tens of thousands of arrows? How could the physical body block the charge of the metal cavalry? Everything seemed to have reached a dead end. There were no more variables that could change all of this and delay the arrival of the God of Death.
Fan Xian narrowed his eyes slightly and looked at the mighty riders at the T-junction. He looked at Ye Zhong, who was personally leading the troops in front of the riders. He looked at the terrifying arrow tips on the second story of the private residences. He looked at the dozens of people walking out of the residences and gradually approaching the center of the snowy ground. The dozens of Ascetic Monks wearing straw hats and looking incomparably cold but inwardly fanatical. He finally couldn't resist letting out a sigh.
Back then, it had been his plan that the Great Prince's purge of the Imperial Army had begun in those private residences. The Overwatch Council had cooperated with the Black Knights to follow Zhengyang Gate all the way to the T-junction. They had forcefully cut the rebel army cavalry in half and nailed Qin Heng alive in front of the palace walls, ending the old Qin family line.
Now, the Emperor's plan was just like what he had done three years ago. He had blocked off any path of survival for himself. It was truly like history was repeating itself. He didn't know if there was something called retribution in the dark.
Besieging the enemy to attack the reinforcements, luring the enemy out of the cage, and sweeping away all the power that dared to oppose him in one fell swoop. This was the method the Emperor had long used. However, with the jewel of Dong Mountain in front of him, what did this kind of battle count for? No matter how used it was, with the support of the Qing Kingdom's powerful power, no one could break the Emperor's plan.
"There really is nothing new." Fan Xian's eyes were a little unfocused as he mumbled something indistinctly through the blood. Then, his head simply tilted to the side and he fainted in Haitang Duoduo's arms. He had fought a number of battles with the Qing Emperor. In the end, he had forced out the sword qi at the tip of his finger, but he was still no match for the Emperor's supreme zhenqi. He had been tragically defeated by one finger. The exhaustion of his zhenqi had long reached the end of his life. For him to be able to endure until now before fainting was already a remarkable feat.
The sound of footsteps around the square rang out slowly and steadily. The sound of horse hooves did not slow down. Countless Qing elite soldiers pressed closer from all sides of the square. Gradually, the center of the snowy ground was within range of the arrows. The dozens of Ascetic Monks wearing straw hats stood in front of the army and looked coldly at these people. If the attack of the long arrows could not completely destroy the assassins, it would be time for the Iron Knights and Ascetic Monks to take the field.
Other than Lang Tiao and the four warriors from the Sword Hut, no one else was unharmed. Faced with the suppression of such a powerful martial force, everyone knew it was impossible for them to escape. However, they had already entered the ninth-level. Other than Fan Xian, these people had long become indifferent to life and death. No one showed a glimmer of fear on their faces.
Lang Tiao and the four warriors from the Sword Hut met each other's eyes. They each knew what they should do and gently nodded their heads. Then, the foremost ace in the Northern Qi Royal Palace turned his head to glance at Haitang Duoduo with pity. He found that there was no sorrow of parting on her face. She only held Fan Xian quietly with a slight smile.
Lang Tiao also smiled. Looking at Fan Xian in Haitang's arms, he shook his head and sighed in admiration. "At this time, he fainted so straightforwardly. How can one not respect him?"
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…
Having changed into a clean dragon robe, the Emperor walked silently up the stone steps of the palace walls. The imperial soldiers he passed all half-knelt in a military salute. No one dared to look directly at the bright yellow color. Eunuch Yao followed closely at the Emperor's side. Suddenly, he heard the Emperor ask in a low voice, "Why haven't they moved?"
"This …" Eunuch Yao's heart thumped. He didn't know how to respond. He knew that the Emperor already hated Sir Fan junior. He also knew that the Emperor had doted on Sir Fan junior to the bone, particularly after the death of the Second Prince. Everyone in the Palace knew how much the Emperor cherished Sir Fan junior. If he had ordered tens of thousands of arrows to be fired and Sir Fan junior had died in the chaos, he wouldn't know how to explain it to the Emperor.
Eunuch Yao felt fear at the Emperor's personal visit to the palace walls. If it was only to kill the assassins outside the Palace, the Emperor's arrangements were more than enough. Why did he have to personally come and see? He was probably still reluctant in his heart.
"I want to personally see that unfilial son die in front of me." Perhaps the Emperor saw what Eunuch Yao was thinking. Coldly, he said, "Fire the arrows."
With a glance from the Emperor, a promise could not be taken back. With the order, the arrows were released. While the Emperor was still walking on the wide stone steps to the palace walls, the arrows in the hands of the soldiers around the square were released. Densely packed, the tens of thousands of arrows whistled through the wind. Like insects, they covered the sky and covered the sun. They shot directly toward the snowy ground in the center of the square.
If Fan Xian's body was in perfect condition, perhaps he could have used the Heart he had just comprehended to move dozens of feet in a straight line and dodge this dense rain of arrows. However, he had already fainted. No one in the world could dodge a rain of arrows.
In the instant before the Qing soldiers fired, Lang Tiao let out an explosive roar. A severe light flashed in his eyes. He grabbed Fan Xian's body from Haitang's arms and grabbed the metal chain between the two curved knives with one hand. He swung the two curved knives into an impenetrable blade light and charged valiantly toward the Ascetic Monks closest to him.
…
…
The Qing Emperor slowly stepped onto the palace walls. His bright yellow dragon robe was intimidating. His hands were held behind his back and were unusually steady. There was not a trace of trembling. His eyes were slightly sunken and unusually cold. There was not a trace of emotion.
He looked at the blood-red color on the snowy ground in front of the palace walls and the arrows scattered on the ground. His expression did not change at all. His gaze shifted slightly. He then saw Fan Xian, who was protected by everyone and whose life or death was unknown. His brows furrowed slightly.
A dense rain of arrows fell. The four warriors of the Sword Hut stood guard in four directions. Relying on their powerful ninth-level cultivation, they formed a net of swords, protecting everyone else within it. No one knew how many arrows they had broken. However, there was a limit to one's strength. This was different from when Great Master San Shi was shot to death outside Jingdou. In Jingdou, there were tens of thousands of arrows falling like rain. Who could not be wet and who could not die?
After the rain of arrows, the four warriors of the Sword Hut had already been hit by a number of arrows. However, they still stood valiantly in four directions. Fresh blood flowed from their bodies. No one knew if these disciples, who had inherited Sigu Jian's ruthlessness and ruthlessness, would fall in the next moment.
At the edge of the net of swords, Friar He had already been shot until he looked like a porcupine. He could not be more dead. In the past, this Northern Qi ninth-level ace had been so impressive. Now, in front of the powerful power of the empire, he could not withstand a single blow.
No matter how powerful a person was, in front of a flourishing dynasty, they were still as helpless as an ant unless the person was so powerful that they were inhumanly powerful, such as a Great Grandmaster.
The rain of arrows stopped. Lang Tiao, covered in blood, also retreated. Earlier, he had intended to protect Fan Xian as he charged out. In the end, he was unable to break through the dense rain of arrows. After the two soul-eating curved knives killed two Ascetic Monks, they could only retreat. There were still two bone-deep arrows stuck in his right shoulder. Fresh blood flowed down.
Haitang glanced at him. Lang Tiao did not turn around. Silently, he said, "The Emperor has orders that he must be kept alive."
Everyone was either injured or dead. Although they were all powerful warriors who could dominate a region, from the beginning, they were unable to band together and bravely break out of the encirclement. Looking at the Qing court's battle array, from the beginning, they had not given them any chance of survival.
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…
The Emperor calmly looked at the bloody scene below the palace walls. After a moment of silence, he quietly said, "Continue."
The moment the assassination in Taiji Palace ended, the Emperor finally felt relieved. The invisible shackles weighing down on his body had been released. Thus, he recovered his usual confidence and calm elegance and methodically began to arrange everything.
After Dong Mountain, or more accurately, after the incident in Taiping Courtyard 20 years ago, what the great Qing Emperor feared the most in this world was the youth covered in black cloth and the chest that had disappeared.
In Taiji Palace, the Qing Emperor had already forced Fan Xian to a dead end, but the chest still did not appear. Wu Zhu still did not appear. The Qing Emperor's last caution finally disappeared without a trace. He could finally be sure that the chest was not on Fan Xian's body, at least not right now. As for the Fifth Prince, presumably, he was trapped in the Temple and would never be able to come out.
The Emperor narrowed his eyes slightly and looked at the warriors struggling on the verge of death below the palace walls. There were no large ripples in his heart. Just as Fan Xian had thought earlier, it was like this on Dong Mountain, much less these ninth-level minor figures. There was not a sliver of pride in the Emperor's heart. Such a small matter could not make him proud. He only looked calmly at Fan Xian, whose life or death was unknown, from a distance. A faint sense of exhaustion rose in his heart.
Following the military order from the palace walls, the Qing elites surrounding the square once again raised the longbows in their hands. The steady arrows once again aimed at the warriors covered in blood in the snow. They didn't know what kind of extraordinary figures these assassins were. They only knew that as long as they released the arrows in their hands, no matter how powerful the assassins were, only death awaited them.
Perhaps some military generals or clever soldiers guessed Sir Fan junior's existence and saw him. Their hearts trembled slightly because Fan Xian's existence in the Qing Kingdom had always been a kind of legend. However, this legend was about to be personally killed. As long as one was a Qing person, they would probably be shaken.
Just like Ye Zhong at the T-junction, Shi Fei behind the archers, and Gong Dian on the palace walls, these three major figures of the Qing military all felt a faint sense of sorrow in their hearts.
However, it was difficult to disobey a monarch's order or a military order. All of the soldiers still raised the longbows in their hands and aimed in that direction.
The Emperor's eyes narrowed even more.
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…
However, the Emperor did not notice. No one noticed that on the roof of Zhaixing Tower, some distance away from the square, there was also a person aiming at him on the palace walls.
Zhaixing Tower was the third tallest building in Jingdou. It was originally an old place the Tianwen official used to observe the stars. Later, the young lady of the Ye family entered the capital and rebuilt a stargazing platform on the mountain outside Jingdou. Thus, Zhaixing Tower gradually fell into disuse. Other than the servants who cleaned daily, no one paid attention to this place.
In the cold snow of the first month of the 12th year of the Qing calendar, there was a thin and small person crawling on the roof of Zhaixing Tower. A large and expensive white fur coat covered his body. Together with the white snow on the surrounding roofs, it hid the color of the green manservant clothes he wore.
This person hid very well. Under the cover of the wind and snow, he seemed to blend into the snow-covered roof of Zhaixing Tower.
In front of the expensive white fur coat, a cold metal pipe-shaped object extended out. It was the heavy sniper rifle that had killed Yan Xiaoyi on the meadow.
The person under the white fur coat gently exhaled a breath of hot air and warmed his frozen and stiff palms. He once again refocused his eyes on the optical sight. He adjusted his breathing and used zhenqi to recover his nervous heartbeat. He fixed the sight in the sight on the palace walls and the Emperor's body.
The Royal Palace was far away, but the Emperor was right in front of him. He was very familiar with this feeling. He was also very used to this kind of environment. The snow in the Cang Mountains at night was actually a bit harder to endure than the snow in Jingdou.
The muzzle of the gun under the fur coat moved slightly. After completing the last adjustment, the finger steadily touched the cold metal. It did not tremble at all. It paused for a moment and then gently moved.
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