Chapter 6: Twenty Years of Martial Arts Dreams, Ink and Brush Staining the Damp Green Robes

Only those in the Xiantian realm can pierce armor with an arrow from two hundred paces away.

Young Master Tao’s expression changed drastically. He took a step forward and thrust his long spear outward.

“Bang—”

A dark green arrow struck the tip of his wooden spear, snapping the dagger-like head. The arrow did not stop, piercing into Young Master Tao’s chest and carrying his body back until it slammed into Zhang Yuan’s back.

The sharp arrowhead punched through Young Master Tao’s body and drove five inches into Zhang Yuan’s shoulder.

The immense force of the arrow made Zhang Yuan stagger, nearly throwing him forward.

“Go, go—”

Pierced through the chest and pinned to Zhang Yuan’s back, Young Master Tao let out a roar. Blood gushed from his mouth as he took a step forward, forcing his body to slide off the arrow shaft.

The shaft was drenched in blood.

Zhang Yuan turned to look back, but Young Master Tao reached out and pressed a hand covered in blood onto his shoulder.

“Take the brothers’ military merits back.”

Zhang Yuan gripped the blood-soaked linen scroll, pressed one hand against the arrow piercing his shoulder, and bolted out of the alley.

“Twenty years of dreams in the pugilistic world, ink staining the blue robes damp.”

“Tao Yulin of the Great Qin is here! Which Yan dog dares to come and kill me?”

Behind him, Young Master Tao’s loud laughter echoed.

The Young Master who didn't want to be a scholar, yet recorded the wishes and battle merits of everyone in the camp one by one.

The Young Master who hated delivering the killing blow, always staying half a step behind Zhang Yuan in every battle.

The Young Master who knew Zhang Yuan was just a ninth-rank constable who inherited his father’s position, yet constantly told him tales of the pugilistic world, tempting him to roam the world with a sword.

Zhang Yuan, having run more than ten zhang, stopped in his tracks, feeling as if his chest were about to explode.

Death is but death; when had he, Zhang Yuan, ever abandoned a comrade in life or death!

He turned back, looking at the figure leaning on his long spear. Zhang Yuan snapped the arrow piercing his shoulder, swept his blade across his back, and severed the remaining half of the shaft.

With a wild roar, he turned and charged straight back into the alley.

“Chaos, assist in battle!”

In an instant, countless grids appeared before Zhang Yuan’s eyes. The positions of the black-armored Yan soldiers ahead were all detailed within these grids.

Above the heads of those soldiers, light flickered in shades of pale red or crimson.

Pale red meant they could be crushed; crimson required caution; black-red meant to dodge; murky black meant to flee.

His blood and qi seemed to boil, and the world before Zhang Yuan’s eyes slowed to a crawl.

He took three steps, using the momentum of his sprint to slide two zhang across the ground, lowered his waist, and charged with his blade trailing.

Step up, lift the blade.

“Clang—”

The long blade aimed at Young Master Tao’s shoulder was blocked by Zhang Yuan’s upward strike. The deafening sound of weapons clashing rang in his ears, causing the heavily wounded, dying Young Master Tao to turn his head in a daze.

Zhang Yuan was fully focused. Without retracting his blade, he put force into his waist and slammed his shoulder directly into the chest of the lead black-armored Yan soldier, whose guard had been left wide open after his weapon was deflected.

Iron Armor Fist, Body Check.

Zhang Yuan’s body check had clearly reached the realm of mastery; the half-step explosive force was like a charging wild bull.

“Bang—”

The black-armored Yan soldier vomited blood, flew backward more than a zhang, and crashed to the ground.

His sternum shattered, his internal organs ruptured.

Having succeeded with one strike, Zhang Yuan did not stop. He gripped the hilt of his blade and swung it horizontally.

“Bang—”

The long blade traced an arc, striking the shield held by a Yan soldier on the left whose head was marked with a pale red light.

The pale red light meant this person’s cultivation was far inferior to his own.

The heavy blow landed with at least five hundred catties of force.

The shield-bearing Yan soldier shuddered, his feet stumbling uncontrollably as he retreated two steps.

This retreat exposed the two soldiers behind him, who were armed with long weapons and a crossbow.

“Hah—”

Zhang Yuan let out a low shout, stomped his left foot with all his might, unleashed his full strength, and slammed his body forward.

He surged forward three feet, lifted his right leg, and with the added force of his waist, slammed it heavily into the chest of the black-armored soldier who held a long-handled saber and could not retract it in time.

Iron Armor Fist, Sky-Piercing Knee.

“Crack—”

A piercing sound of shattered sternum.

The black-armored soldier’s chest collapsed instantly. The black blood he spat out was mixed with internal organs and, still hot, drenched Zhang Yuan’s head.

The Chaos screen in Zhang Yuan’s mind was now a sea of blood-red. A stored blood bead shattered, converting into the blood and qi consumed during his combat.

“Kill!”

Standing nearby, a black-armored Yan soldier holding a short crossbow gritted his teeth and aimed the bolt at Zhang Yuan.

Three feet.

Zhang Yuan let out a beast-like growl. He flipped his blade outward, the edge slicing horizontally along his arm.

“Bang—”

“Rip—”

The crossbow bolt grazed Zhang Yuan’s waist, pierced his leather armor, and drew a spray of blood before embedding itself into a broken wall a zhang away.

Zhang Yuan’s blade sliced through the black-armored soldier’s neck, and blood gushed out.

The soldier dropped his crossbow and clutched his neck with both hands, but could not stop the spray of blood.

Zhang Yuan stepped forward, reversed his grip on the long blade, and drove it into the shoulder socket of the black-armored Yan soldier he had knocked down with his knee.

The blade pierced through the soft tissue of the shoulder, entered the chest cavity, punctured the heart and lungs, and exited the back, pinning the soldier heavily to the bluestone floor.

“Clang—”

The tip of the blade snapped, and Zhang Yuan’s arm went numb from the vibration.

The recoil made Zhang Yuan tremble, and the blood-red vision before his eyes slowly faded.

He looked up. Only the soldier who had been holding the shield remained; his face was pale, and he was retreating in a panic.

Zhang Yuan’s eyes were bright, his face drenched in blood. To the eyes of a soldier accustomed to life and death, he looked like a mad demon.

At the end of the alley ahead, a figure with a murky black light above his head was sprinting toward them.

It was the Xiantian realm expert who had severely wounded Young Master Tao with a single arrow and pierced through his body!

Zhang Yuan pulled his blade back, kicked the body of the Yan soldier in front of him into the alley, then turned and hoisted Young Master Tao onto his back, burying his head and running.

Two arrows chased after them, slamming into the wooden pillars of a broken wall beside him. They pierced through pillars as thick as bowls, sending wood chips flying.

Zhang Yuan turned the corner just before the arrows arrived.

Once around the corner, Zhang Yuan’s vision was filled with grids. He instantly chose the best route, weaving through the ruins.

Climbing walls.

Dashing through alleys.

Crouching.

Leaping.

At least five arrows that could have pierced his body shattered within a hair’s breadth of him.

Without the Chaos assistance, Zhang Yuan would have been shot dead long ago.

His long blade was already lost, blood flowed from the arrow wound in his shoulder, and blood continued to seep from the wound at his waist.

Running at full speed, his chest felt as heavy and torn as if it were filled with lead.

Zhang Yuan dared not stop.

“Zh-Zhang Yuan, y-you, yourself…”

On his back, Young Master Tao’s voice was faint.

Zhang Yuan ignored him and just ran forward with all his might.

He did not know how much time had passed when Zhang Yuan’s legs went soft and he collapsed to the ground, Young Master Tao falling off his back.

“Where is the medic? These two brothers are severely wounded!”

“What a brave man, he actually carried his comrade all the way back.”

“This one is gone. An arrow pierced his chest and lungs, his heart is damaged. It was a Xiantian expert who struck.”

A group of Qin soldiers gathered around.

Several veteran soldiers stepped forward to check and sighed in low voices.

Gone?

Zhang Yuan crawled up from the ground, scrambled to Young Master Tao’s side, and pressed his hand against the chest wound that had almost bled dry.

As Zhang Yuan pressed down, a gush of blood bubbled out from the wound.

“Cough, cough…”

Young Master Tao opened his eyes, looked at Zhang Yuan, and blood surged from his mouth.

“Zh-Zhang… Yuan… give… give me a quick… end…”