Chapter 29: Heavy Snow Like Razor Winds

The snow-covered ground outside the Celestial Prison had been stained crimson. Many corpses lay strewn across the snow, flesh and blood scattered, causing several of the Crown Prince’s guards to turn deathly pale and vomit, unable to bear the gruesome spectacle. They trembled with fear, for of the fifteen guards who had arrived, only seven remained. Even Chen Shu, despite his experience, found the cruelty of the scene deeply distressing.

Yet, he looked at the four jailers—Zhang San, Li Si, and their companions—whose golden armor was drenched in blood and gore. Their ferocity remained undiminished, as if they were slaughtering gods descended from hell. In that moment, Chen Shu could not help but feel a sincere sense of respect for the four jailers, even though he was a First-Rank warrior while they were only Second-Rank. In terms of the sheer carnage dealt that night, even with his superior cultivation, Chen Shu knew he could not compare to them. These were true warriors hardened by the battlefield; every move was clean and precise, eliminating an enemy with the least amount of effort.

Piles of bodies now lay before the four jailers, who stood like four vajra guardians, holding the gate of the prison. As the enemy’s assault receded, the defenders finally had a moment to breathe.

Lao Liu barked an order: "Everyone, inside the prison!" Though they did not know why, everyone hurried into the structure, using it as a defensive fortification.

Chen Shu suddenly asked, "Where is the General?"

"The General doesn't need to involve himself in such petty skirmishes," one replied. "If we needed the General for these small fry, what would we be getting paid for?"

"Exactly!"

Chen Shu was left speechless; he had merely asked after Yang Zhan’s whereabouts, as he hadn't seen him for quite some time.

At that moment, Yang Zhan was crouching before a drainage vent in the backyard. He held something in his hands, pouring it inside. From within the drain, a muffled voice cried out: "It’s poison! Run!"

Yang Zhan clapped his hands together. Suddenly, his heart stirred; seven rats standing nearby immediately scattered in different directions. Above him, a small red bird circled, chirping sharply. Yang Zhan looked up at the night sky, his expression turning solemn.

"Quite an ambitious move, sending so many Qi practitioners?"

Three figures descended from the sky, landing atop the prison roof. They watched Yang Zhan in the courtyard with cold indifference. As Yang Zhan saw their faces, his solemnity sharpened into icy killing intent. The leader was a gaunt old man; despite his crane-like hair and youthful complexion, he lacked any sense of ethereal grace, exuding instead a sinister, gloomy aura. He smiled, but it only made him look more treacherous.

"Surprised, aren't you?"

Yang Zhan nodded. "Indeed. I didn't think anyone would be so deranged just to take my life."

The old man chuckled sinisterly. "It seems many people want you dead. But only when you die can our Emperor find peace."

"So that’s it? He hasn't been able to eat or sleep well all these years? If you manage to make it back, tell him to eat and drink well—his health is important."

The old man snorted coldly. "Still sharp-tongued when death is at your doorstep. Today, your blood shall serve as a sacrifice to the sons of our Barbarian Kingdom!"

"With just the three of you? That won't be easy!"

In the blink of an eye, Yang Zhan vanished. The next moment, he appeared on the roof. Two of the three robed figures soared into the air, but the third, unable to dodge, took a punch from Yang Zhan head-on.

*Boom!*

With a thunderous roar, Yang Zhan’s fist struck with the force of a sonic boom. The robed figure was instantly torn asunder. However, Yang Zhan’s expression tightened, and he leapt backward as a plume of black mist erupted from the shattered body, staining his clothes.

"Hahaha..." The gaunt old man hovering above laughed heartily. But he was met with several arrows.

*Whoosh! Whoosh!*

The old man quickly surged his Qi to evade, but it was too late. Two arrows struck him, the force sending him flying backward.

At that moment, the other robed figure suddenly exploded upon being hit by an arrow. A ghastly black mist emerged, spreading rapidly and sinking downward.

"Sanzi, be careful! This is the Barbarian Kingdom’s 'Soul-Eater Poison'!"

Simultaneously, the black mist from the roof and the sky rapidly enveloped the entire prison. Though Yang Zhan held his breath, this poison could not be avoided simply by not breathing. Once it touched the skin, it was like a maggot in the bone, impossible to shake off. Fortunately, alerted by Yang Zhan, Sanzi and the others had retreated outside the prison, avoiding the initial wave. Even the Crown Prince’s family had been dragged out by Chen Shu in time.

Yang Zhan did not flee; instead, he charged deeper into the prison. His blood Qi surged, forming a protective barrier to keep the black mist at bay. Yet, he felt a searing pain in his arm. With a swift motion, he drew a dagger and slashed his own arm, carving out a piece of blackened flesh along with the sleeve of his robe, letting it drop to the ground.

Without even glancing at the wound, he reached Chen Lin’er’s cell. He saw the three women huddled together, a golden halo emanating from Chen Lin’er, making her look like a Bodhisattva manifest—sacred and ethereal. The halo shielded Li Yu and Li Zhizhu; though the black mist eroded the light, it failed to touch them.

"Follow me, quickly!" Chen Lin’er did not hesitate, bringing the other two women out. Yang Zhan used his dagger to sever their shackles. "Move!"

They rushed out of the prison.

"General!" Lao Liu’s face changed as he saw Yang Zhan’s bleeding arm. The blood, which should have been bright red, was now tainted with a layer of black energy.

The four fearless jailers were now gripped by panic. Yang Zhan cursed, "What are you panicking about? I’m fine! Take up defensive positions!"

The four jailers and Chen Shu formed a perimeter in the snowy field, eyes scanning the darkness. Yet, to everyone's shock, Yang Zhan turned and charged back into the mist-shrouded prison. Moments later, he emerged carrying a long-handled saber.

At the sight of this, Sanzi and the others turned grave. It was the first time in three years their General had drawn his blade. The surrounding temperature seemed to plummet. Yang Zhan’s blood Qi surged, and he swung the blade toward the prison. A terrifying blast of blood energy erupted, churning the snow into a violent storm that swept across the prison, carrying the black mist and countless snowflakes high into the sky.

"Get back, now!"

At that instant, countless shadows surged from the darkness, their blades gleaming with cold, pale light.

"Hurry!" Yang Zhan roared again. "I’ll hold the rear!"

He stood at the back, holding his saber diagonally, his overwhelming presence embodying the saying: "One man stands at the pass, ten thousand cannot break through."

Chen Shu led the Crown Prince, Yu Shu, and Chen Lin’er as they fought their way back toward the prison, as the path ahead had been cut off by the enemy.

"Kill!" Sanzi led the charge with his massive blade, fighting with such ferocity that the black-clad figures were forced to retreat. The four jailers moved in a perfect triangle, cutting a path forward.

"Kill..." The war cries shook the night.

Before Yang Zhan, waves of black-clad enemies charged with murderous intent. He raised his blade, unmoved by the black blood on his arm or the sea of enemies before him. He chanted: "The moonlight surges on the night, to slay the chieftain's head, only a blade filled with snow and wind!"

As the final word, "blade," rang out like thunder, the wind and snow seemed to respond to his Qi, becoming as sharp as steel.

*Boom!*

Yang Zhan took a step forward. His terrifying aura struck the front line of enemies with inexplicable dread. In that moment of hesitation, blade light flashed within the gale. Several men felt their throats grow cold, their vision spinning as they realized the scope of this world before collapsing into the snow in a desolate end.

The remaining enemies felt only that in the swirling snow, the blade was like the wind itself—elusive, invisible, yet lethal. Amidst the wet *thud* of bodies falling, they could not even see the man wielding the weapon; they only saw the soul-shattering glint of the blade amidst the endless snow.