The string of the kite had already been tied to the shafts of the carriage and floated in the air.
The young Daoist boy did not dare to look at the bitter battle around him. He used his two small hands to cover his face, and when he occasionally stole a glance, his body would tremble in fear.
The curtain of the carriage had already been lifted. Shang Xingzhou sat on the side of the carriage, his feet on the ground.
If Chen Changsheng were here, he would realize that he truly was much older than he had been in Luoyang, his hair completely white.
He gripped a fan in his hand and slowly waved it, his white hair drifting in the wind.
He closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of fighting and blood splashing in the air. He did not feel any disgust, nor did he become intoxicated.
He was very calm. Before the true end, everything he did and the people he met were just a journey.
He was well aware why the demons were using all their strength to kill him.
He naturally would not leave.
What he wanted was to attract the demons' main force while also providing them with some sort of evidence.
This was a great fog that both sides needed.
He also would not send any information to the Central Army Camp. The more silent the Central Army Camp became, the more the demons wanted to kill him. In these circumstances, if he were to die to the demons, many soldiers and priests would have a strong opinion of Chen Changsheng and Xu Yourong, and the human armies on the front lines might even split.
He knew that Chen Changsheng would be under enormous pressure, but he did not care. If he could not even endure this little pressure, what right did he have to be his student?
After fighting from early morning until the autumn sun was high in the sky, the vanguard of the wolf cavalry finally broke through the heavy defenses of the black-armored cavalry and reached the small mountain.
Yet those drooling and panting wolves were not even able to take a single step onto the small mountain before they were shot to death by several thousand Sacred Light crossbows.
In a situation where the number of Sacred Light crossbows was dwindling, such a large volley was already a very rare sight on the battlefield.
It could only be said that both Peng Shihai and the other officers and soldiers of the Eastern Army regarded Shang Xingzhou's safety with even greater importance than the heavens.
The small mountain was surrounded by corpses and wounded.
The human cavalry that had once more surrounded the small mountain conducted a simple cleanup. If they encountered a wounded demon soldier, they would naturally finish him off. If they encountered an injured comrade, they would be carried up the mountain and temporarily placed on the slope. Once the battle was over, the Li Palace clergy and the teachers and students of the Thirteen Divisions of Radiant Green would come to treat them. They could only hope that the wounded would still be alive.
The soldiers placed the wounded on the hillside, said a few words of comfort, and then left.
Of course, before they left, they would not forget to kowtow to the car a few times.
The little Daoist separated his fingers and revealed his dark eyes as he looked at Shang Xingzhou.
Without opening his eyes, Shang Xingzhou said, "If you can't cure it, don't bother me."
The little Daoist happily grunted and took out two straw ropes from his sleeves. He tied his wide sleeves tightly around his wrists and ran up the hillside.
The slope was full of wounded soldiers, so naturally, no one stopped him.
However, he did not bring the medical kit, so he did not know how to treat it.
In the next moment, the Little Daoist removed the golden needles from his fingers and started to apply the needles to stop the bleeding of those wounded soldiers. The expression on his little face was incomparably serious.
He moved from one wounded soldier to another. His little face was red from the heat, and his forehead was covered in sweat.
One of the wounded soldiers was wearing a felt hat that was not commonly seen on the battlefield. It covered most of his face, and the part that was exposed was faintly green.
Looking at the wounded soldier, the little Daoist scratched his head and said, "Poisoned? I don't know how to treat it. "
Having said this, he had no choice but to temporarily give up on that wounded soldier and first stop the bleeding of the other wounded soldiers.
After doing these things, he returned to the front of the carriage and looked at Shang Xingzhou with a sweet smile. In a crisp voice, he shouted, "Old Ancestor, I've returned!"
In the next moment, the smile on the little Daoist's face turned into one that was on the verge of tears. It was obvious that he was extremely nervous as he silently said a few words.
At some unknown time, Shang Xingzhou had already opened his eyes.
He calmly nodded his head.
The little Daoist nimbly squeezed into the carriage and hid behind him.
Shang Xingzhou looked at those wounded soldiers on the hillside. His gaze followed the finger of the little Daoist on his shoulder and finally fell on the body of a wounded soldier.
It was the wounded soldier wearing the felt hat and had a somewhat green complexion.
Shang Xingzhou calmly looked at that wounded soldier.
A shallow wrinkle gradually appeared at the corner of his eye. Gently blown by the wind, it became deeper and deeper.
Suddenly, an extremely bright light appeared in his eyes.
Several dozen zhang away, a crack in space noiselessly appeared at the throat of that wounded soldier.
Spatial cracks were the sharpest existences in the world and could directly lead to the Netherworld.
Beads of blood appeared on the green skin and were slowly sliced apart.
The wounded soldier suddenly opened his eyes, his body sinking into the ground like a sugar figurine in water.
The spatial crack sank into the ground with it.
The wounded soldier's body transformed into a cloud of smoke that seeped out of the earth and spread throughout the hillside.
Shang Xingzhou suddenly closed his eyes.
The massive painting hanging in the sky by the kite was of Sangharama Temple burning.
Suddenly, a young Daoist priest appeared in the blazing ruins.
This Daoist priest had a handsome appearance, just like Shang Xingzhou when he was young.
He looked around at the plains, his eyes so sharp that they seemed to be able to see all ghosts.
In the painting, ten-some bright lights appeared in the clean eyes of the young Daoist priest.
In the carriage, ten-some deep wrinkles appeared on Shang Xingzhou's face.
Swish swish swish swish!
Sharp sounds of cutting could be heard all around the small hill.
The spatial crack gradually faded away.
Black Robe's figure appeared.
The clothes of the human cavalry had long ago been reduced to shreds and scattered away in the wind.
The black robe that had protected him for a thousand years had also been torn in several places.
Bright red blood flowed out from some of the wounds.
The legend was true. Black Robe really was a human.
… …
… …
"I didn't expect that I would be successfully ambushed by you."
Black Robe looked at Shang Xingzhou in the carriage.
His voice pierced through the hood. It was rather deep and sinister, but at this moment, it was tinged with emotion.
Just as he had said, he had taken an enormous risk today, pretending to be a human cavalry and arriving in front of Shang Xingzhou in order to ambush and kill him.
He had not expected Shang Xingzhou to see through his disguise and almost kill him with a sneak attack.
"Back then, your student used this move to kill my student, and now you're using it again. This repetition is truly disappointing."
Shang Xingzhou's voice was devoid of emotion. It was so cold that it seemed like this person was not the Demon Military Advisor or an old friend.
He was naturally speaking of ten-some years ago, when the young Demon Lord had disguised himself as a heavily injured array master and had Chen Chou and An Hua of the Mount Song Army headquarters carry him to the snowy mountains to find the master of the Cinnabar Pill.
Black Robe replied, "At the time, the person Your Majesty wanted to kill was Emperor Xian. It had nothing to do with Chen Changsheng."
Shang Xingzhou replied, "No matter what, it's still an old trick, or else it wouldn't have failed to deceive even a student like me."
The young Daoist boy intently listened from behind him, completely unaware of how important these words were to him.
In the last two years, many people had learned that a young Daoist boy had appeared in the Monastery of Eternal Spring in Luoyang, and they had paid great attention to the attendants around Shang Xingzhou.
But Shang Xingzhou had never clearly explained just who this young Daoist boy was to him.
Until today, when he said these words in front of Black Robe.
Just what were the benefits of being Shang Xingzhou's student?
One only needed to know that of the two students he had taken before him, one had become Emperor and the other the Pope. That was enough.
Even Black Robe couldn't help but glance at the young Daoist boy.
Although his plan today was nothing new, it actually had a very high chance of success. Who could have expected that a child would see through it?
This was probably the meaning behind the phrase 'profound fortune'. (To be continued. If you like this work, you are welcome to cast a recommendation vote or monthly vote at Starting Point. Your support is my greatest motivation. For mobile users, please go to M.)
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
