Chapter Thirty-Four: Three Heroes Battle the Overlord (Part Two)

The true form of the Overlord emerged, watching the trio with amusement. "The warm-up is over. The real battle is about to begin. Are you still up for it?"

Deng Zhanxuan helped Li Qiutong to his feet and replied, "We haven't shown our full strength yet. You'd better beware."

"Oh? Then let me see what you're truly capable of. That axe of yours, it looks familiar. There was once a man named Deng Yue who wielded an axe just like it. He endured five of my full-strength strikes. I wonder how many you can withstand—will you last until your brother breaks through my defense?"

"He was my uncle, a true hero," Deng Zhanxuan said, hefting his massive axe, ready for battle.

"Big Brother, my Xuanwu Eight Styles: four for defense, four for attack. We need to switch between offense and defense to buy Second Brother time to recover."

Li Qiutong nodded, agreeing with Deng Zhanxuan's strategy. After all, among the three, Yang Ruiyun had the strongest offensive capability and was the most likely to break through the Overlord's defenses.

At that moment, Yang Ruiyun barely managed to stand. He watched the fierce fight between his brothers, but uncertainty clouded his heart. That spear thrust earlier had been his limit, yet the Overlord had taken it without injury. He couldn't think of any way to defeat him.

Seeing Yang Ruiyun barely standing, Ren Xingtian ran over and asked, "Brother Yang, are you alright? Can you still fight?"

Yang Ruiyun shook his head helplessly. "Even if I can, what difference does it make? There's no way we can win. The Overlord is too strong."

"Have you given up?" Ren Xingtian asked quietly. This battle hadn't originally involved the trio; it was his own gamble that had dragged them into this uneven contest. Even if they lost, he wouldn't blame them, especially since they'd wagered their futures. He owed them more than words could express.

Yang Ruiyun was silent, unsure what to say.

But Ren Xingtian breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "Brother Yang, I'm sorry I involved you all in this fight. Win or lose, I'll stand with you. But your brothers haven't given up yet—they still hope for victory and are fighting to buy you time. Are you really going to abandon them?"

On the battlefield, two men fought desperately—one defending, one attacking—but it was all in vain; they suffered the Overlord's relentless assault. Yet their courage only grew fiercer the more they were beaten.

Ren Xingtian looked at Yang Ruiyun and continued, "Brother Yang, I have no right to demand you to charge into battle. But your brothers haven't given up. Though I've not known you long, I've seen your differences. Brother Li is passionate and fearless, acting without overthinking—his seemingly reckless choices often prove correct. Brother Deng is simple-minded and strong, always putting you two first; if you believe something is right, he'll fight for it with all he has. And you, Yang Ruiyun, are the calmest and smartest. But your rational thinking holds you back—you can't fight without reservations like they do, and you don't understand what it means to cling to hope. Do you see it that way?"

"Final... hope," Yang Ruiyun murmured.

"Xiaoyun, how are you getting on with the family history?" Yang Yan asked his eight-year-old son sternly.

"I've finished reading it all, Father," replied the ever-cold Yang Ruiyun.

Yang Yan nodded. "How do you feel about it?"

"I understand the stories of our seven ancestors—they were all patriotic heroes. But I don't see why we commemorate Yang Yanhui, who betrayed his country. Even though he helped the Song in the end, he still betrayed his homeland and family," the young Yang Ruiyun asked earnestly.

Yang Yan stroked his son's head and said gently, "Son, Ancestor Yang Yanhui never betrayed his country. In his heart, there was always hope for Song—even in enemy camps, even if that hope was faint. When you master his spear technique, you'll understand his hope."

"But isn't such hope meaningless?"

"You're still too limited by your thinking, child. No hope is meaningless. As long as there is hope, it can be realized. When you understand this, you’ll be worthy of being a truly invincible general." With that, Yang Yan left, leaving his son bewildered.

"Hope is always meaningful. Father, I understand now. Ancestor Yang Yanhui, at last I comprehend the hope in your heart." In Ren Xingtian’s eyes, Yang Ruiyun spoke softly to himself, then slowly rose to his feet. The defeat in his gaze was gone, replaced by a blazing fire of determination.

"Go for it, Brother Yang." Ren Xingtian didn't know what Yang Ruiyun had realized, but he knew the sharp spear had returned.

"Shadow Strike."

Yang Ruiyun pulled his spear back, then hurled it straight at the Overlord.

The Overlord, unfazed, did not dodge. He swung his heavy halberd at Li Qiutong, but extended his left hand forward, catching Yang Ruiyun’s thrown spear firmly.

He tossed the spear back to Yang Ruiyun, declaring, "I recognize that move. I remember a king of Chu was killed by it—it's a shame for my country, remembered by every Chu king. But your skill is lacking."

Yang Ruiyun caught his spear. "I'm not as strong as my ancestor, but this is enough."

Li Qiutong, having barely blocked another blow, retreated to Yang Ruiyun's side. "Are you alright, Second Brother?"

Deng Zhanxuan, gasping for breath, shielded them both and asked, "Second Brother, are you okay?" Facing Xiang Yu's unleashed dominance, each strike threatened to cripple them, and Deng Zhanxuan’s constant defense had drained him most. His trembling hands showed it.

Yang Ruiyun looked at his nearly exhausted brothers and managed a strained smile. "Don't worry, I'm fine."

"Good. Prepare to strike him again soon—with everything you’ve got. Third Brother and I will buy you time."

Yang Ruiyun would never admit that his previous spear thrust was already his maximum effort. "Big Brother, wait a moment. I have a plan that might work."

"What plan?"

Watching the three confer, Xiang Yu made no move to interrupt. The absolute gap in strength was clear; he doubted they could breach his defenses.

"There’s only one chance. Big Brother, Third Brother, it’s up to you."

"Don’t worry, we’ll get you your opportunity," Li Qiutong said confidently.

Deng Zhanxuan nodded, promising to do his utmost.

The three exchanged smiles and turned to face their foe.

"Have you finished strategizing?" the Overlord asked with equal confidence.

"Of course," Li Qiutong declared, charging ahead. In the previous battle, he had alternated between Xuanwu Fist and Azure Dragon Fist against the Overlord, with Deng Zhanxuan’s strong defense allowing them to barely hold their own.

But this time was different. Viridian martial energy enveloped the Yin-Yang Dragon Pattern Staff, spinning it into a circle before Li Qiutong. Gradually, the martial energy split into red and purple, converging at the two ends of the staff. Behind him appeared a coiling thunder dragon and a fiery pheasant in flight.

"You are a Saint Martial Artist," the Overlord remarked calmly.

Li Qiutong’s eyes brimmed with confidence. "Are you afraid? I was only using a fraction of my strength before."

"Do you know the minimum standard for ascending to the pinnacle of martial arts?" the Overlord asked.

Li Qiutong shook his head. "No."

A smile curled beneath the Overlord’s beard. "It’s the ability to effortlessly annihilate Saint Martial Artists."

Li Qiutong looked at him, confidence unshaken. "I am not an ordinary Saint Martial Artist."

A figure rushed past Li Qiutong, charging at the Overlord—it was Deng Zhanxuan, wielding his giant axe.

"Xuanwu Eight Styles: Profound Darkness Quake!"

Deng Zhanxuan swung the Xuanwu Quake Axe with his shield towards the Overlord. The black martial energy from the shield surged forth, crashing toward him.

Xiang Yu raised his halberd, smashing it against Deng Zhanxuan. When halberd met axe, a tremendous crash echoed like a tidal wave. Though Deng Zhanxuan’s Xuanwu Eight Styles were formidable, they fell short of the Overlord’s might. The reverberation knocked Deng Zhanxuan’s axe from his grasp, sending his massive frame flying and crashing to the ground.

But as Deng Zhanxuan fell, Li Qiutong—with a dragon and pheasant in tow—charged forward. The purple energy of Quake and the red energy of Separation twined around the black and white dragon patterns on the staff. These two offensive martial energies, born from splitting the Azure Dragon energy, were mysteriously connected; now, empowered by the staff's force, they erupted with greater strength.

Even the Overlord sensed the power in this strike, his expression turning serious. A stronger aura of dominance burst forth—he had not been fighting at full power until now.

"Remember this move: Yin-Yang Thunder Explosion Staff."

The Overlord replied, undaunted, "Mine is called Dominance Strike, First Form—Dominance Crash."

The purple-red energy clashed violently with the black-red energy, and the Yin-Yang Dragon Pattern Staff met the Dominance Halberd. This was Li Qiutong’s strongest attack yet, surpassing the power of ordinary saints. But the Overlord stood at the pinnacle of martial arts, and Dominance Strike was his signature skill—it could not be weak.

After the fierce collision, Li Qiutong gained no advantage. He felt a terrifying force slam into him, as if his internal organs were being torn apart—far stronger than Gu Ming’s wild elephant charge. Like Yang Ruiyun before, Li Qiutong was sent flying, crashing into the Beacon Fire Stele—only faster and harder. The stele cracked, and as Li Qiutong fell, a mysterious aura descended with him.

The Overlord, too, was no longer at ease; he took several steps back to steady himself. But he had no time to relax now—he knew another was already before him.

This was the final blow, the decisive spear. Whether the people of Zhou would be protected or surrendered to Chu depended on this moment.