Chapter Thirteen: Martial Array vs. Grandmaster of Eight Trigrams

At a single command, the soldiers surrounding the three withdrew to their original positions. What had been a force of a thousand was now reduced to only six or seven hundred. Those who survived stared at the corpses strewn across the ground and the three figures still standing tall, their hearts filled with a terror so deep that it bred the belief that even if they fought to the last man, those three would not fall.

Then, a unit of over a hundred soldiers garbed in deep green armor marched onto the battlefield from the rear. Unlike the previous army, this contingent moved with perfect discipline, as if they were a single organism, and their equipment was of superior quality.

“The Greenwood Army—it's actually the Greenwood Army! I can't believe he deployed them here,” Yang Ruiyun exclaimed in disbelief as he gazed at the new arrivals.

“What is the Greenwood Army? Are they really that formidable?” Li Qiutong asked, puzzled.

Before Yang Ruiyun could answer, Deng Zhanxuan's expression turned grave as he spoke: “The Greenwood Army is the only unit in Song possessing a military martial formation. The entire army numbers three thousand; two thousand guard the Chu River, one thousand defend the imperial city. They are Song’s greatest military strength, and can only be mobilized for matters of national significance.”

Yang Ruiyun sighed helplessly. “This emperor is truly foolish—mobilizing the Greenwood Army for personal reasons. If trouble flares at the borders, the Chu forces will sweep right in and Song will teeter on the brink of disaster.”

“What exactly is a military martial formation?” Li Qiutong inquired.

“To put it simply, a military martial formation is when many martial artists join forces to attain the power of a martial grandmaster. The defining trait of a grandmaster is the solidification of their martial essence—a feat ordinary people cannot achieve in a lifetime. But with a martial formation, when a group trains in the same art, their martial essence becomes almost identical. They can then combine their martial essence, uniting their strength to reach the threshold of solidification. That is the martial formation,” Yang Ruiyun explained.

Deng Zhanxuan added, “My father once told me that a martial formation of over a hundred men can, in terms of martial essence, rival several powerful grandmasters.”

“So, right now, we're facing the equivalent of several martial grandmasters, aren't we?” Li Qiutong asked the other two.

They both fell silent, tacitly acknowledging the truth.

“And every one of them is here with the sole intent to kill us, right?”

“We’ve dragged you into this, Brother Li,” Yang Ruiyun said, his face troubled.

Suddenly, Deng Zhanxuan stepped to the front, swinging his massive axe and raising it as a shield. “Brother Tong, Brother Yun, I can hold them off for a while. Use this chance to break out in the opposite direction.”

“What about you?” the other two asked in unison.

Deng Zhanxuan laughed heartily. “Brother Yun always says I'm too naïve, that I see the world too simply. Maybe I'm a bit of a fool, but I think there’s value in simplicity—at least I don't have to worry about so many troubles. Your lives are worth far more than mine. So, Brother Tong, Brother Yun, live on for me. Avenge me, and the Deng family.”

With those words, he charged forward without the slightest hesitation. In truth, Deng Zhanxuan felt he had dragged down not just Li Qiutong but also Yang Ruiyun. Were it not for the massive axe in his hands, the Deng family would not have been targeted, and the Yang family would not have been implicated in their rescue, ending in the extermination of their entire clan. Throughout their flight from the imperial city to this point, Yang Ruiyun had never once blamed the Deng family; instead, he had always looked after the simple-minded Deng Zhanxuan. Perhaps Yang truly felt no resentment, but Deng Zhanxuan could never forgive himself. His reckless stand was, in large part, to repay the Yang family’s kindness.

As Deng Zhanxuan charged, the Greenwood Army reacted instantly. A hundred men simultaneously gathered their martial essence, which coalesced in the air into an enormous tree of vivid green. At the leading general’s command, a five-meter-tall blade of pure martial energy cleaved toward Deng Zhanxuan.

He raised his massive shield, and the blade struck it with a deafening explosion. Deng Zhanxuan was forced back only two steps.

“Is that all? Such an attack is nothing. Is this the might of your martial formation?” he taunted, hefting his axe and charging again.

Three more blades slashed at him in quick succession. This time, he was sent flying, but even as he hit the ground, he braced himself with his axe and stood once more.

“Come on! Is that all you've got?”

The general, never before insulted by a martial master—let alone one standing against the might of a martial formation—was consumed by rage. He ordered an even fiercer assault.

Wave after wave of martial energy crashed down on Deng Zhanxuan. The first he barely blocked. The second shattered his black martial essence. The third sent his hulking form, axe and all, flying once more. The fourth, finding him defenseless, struck his thigh with a vicious force, splitting flesh to the bone and sending blood gushing forth.

“Go! Now!” Deng Zhanxuan roared. Staggering drunkenly, he forced himself upright, raised his trembling battle-axe, and tried to press forward. After only two or three steps, his leg gave out and he collapsed.

“What do we do? Are we really going to leave A’Xuan behind?” Yang Ruiyun asked Li Qiutong.

“If I become a grandmaster, could I get Deng Zhanxuan out with me?” Li Qiutong asked in return.

Yang Ruiyun considered for a moment. “It’s possible. The Greenwood Army excels at defense, not pursuit. If you can restrain them with your martial essence, I can rush in, grab A’Xuan and you, and we’ll break out together. They wouldn’t be able to catch us. But right now you're only a master—you can’t solidify your martial essence.”

A faint smile touched Li Qiutong’s lips. “But that’s about to change.”

No sooner had he spoken than his martial essence began to coalesce, pure and intense. White, yellow, blue, green, black, brown, red, and violet—eight colors flickered and merged around him. With resolute steps, Li Qiutong charged the Greenwood Army, passing the battered Deng Zhanxuan.

In that instant, all the martial essence on the dragon-patterned staff turned crimson—the martial essence of Fire. A bird of pure red flame, conjured from his martial essence, appeared and perched on Li Qiutong’s shoulder, its wings beating.

The fire pheasant—this was the sign that Li Qiutong had crossed into the realm of martial grandmaster. His martial essence had always been close to solidification, and after speaking with Long Tianya, he had come to understand how to solidify it and step into the grandmaster’s domain. Though Long Tianya had advised him to remain at the master level and further temper his essence—so that his grandmaster martial essence would be more genuine and powerful—Li Qiutong had no choice but to break through now for Deng Zhanxuan’s sake.

The Greenwood Army stared at Li Qiutong in astonishment. None of them had expected him to be a grandmaster. Though surprised, they were veterans who had faced grandmasters before; they quickly composed themselves, preparing for the coming assault.

The fire pheasant behind Li Qiutong soared skyward as he swept his staff forward, flames blazing around him—the ultimate move of the Eight Trigrams Fire Fist.

“Eight Trigrams: Burning End!” With staff wreathed in roaring fire and the fire pheasant diving beside him, Li Qiutong charged the Greenwood Army.

The general facing him manifested his martial essence as a towering tree, absorbing the blow and withstanding the strike. But suddenly, he felt his martial essence draining away like a waterfall. Looking up, he saw Li Qiutong smiling. “Don’t you know wood fears fire the most?” As he spoke, his martial essence shifted to green, and the fire pheasant transformed into a great green bird, carrying Li Qiutong swiftly away from the martial formation.

The general managed to suppress the burning within with his formidable martial cultivation, but his subordinates fared worse—more than a dozen lost their martial essence entirely and fell dead.

Yang Ruiyun lost no time, hauling Deng Zhanxuan up. At Li Qiutong’s signal, he leapt onto the wind bird with him, and the three of them escaped the battlefield.

Watching the trio flee, Qin Renhui, who had been cowering in the rear, could no longer care for his own safety. He spurred his horse to the general’s side.

“General Zhang, what are you waiting for? Take your men and pursue them at once! We can’t let them escape!”

General Zhang shot him a cold glance. “The Greenwood Army’s speed can’t match theirs. You’d best start thinking about how you’ll explain these casualties to your superiors.” Though he too hated their enemies, the reality was bitter: a martial formation of a hundred had let three—no, two martial masters and a grandmaster—slip through their grasp.

Qin Renhui fell silent. The plot against the Deng family was a secret order from the Emperor himself, known to few. The losses of the Greenwood Army, however, could not be concealed. Once word reached court, the Emperor could no longer shield him, and he would have no way to defend himself.

“These damned little brats—I will catch them yet,” he cursed under his breath, and turned to deal with the chaos left in their wake.