Chapter 26: The Chaos at Datai Temple

At Great Tai Temple, the chaos of battle erupted.

Jiang He knew the Great Shaman possessed sensory abilities; his party of four had already been detected by the squadron leader. He simply tucked away the "Infiltrator's Chapter" and shoved it into his robes.

"Haha! Die, little thief!"

A wild-looking Baturu charged forward wielding a massive cleaver. He was a man of fierce aura, his muscles piled like small hills, his stride heavy as a bear’s, leaving a trail of deep footprints in his wake.

*Clang!*

The massive cleaver descended, aimed directly at his head. Jiang He raised his spear with both hands, using a close-quarters technique—the "Overlord Lifting the Cauldron"—to take the blow head-on. Sparks flew from the impact of steel on steel. Suddenly, Jiang He lashed out with a kick. It was swift and ferocious, offering no time for reaction; his toe struck like a viper, embodying the "Under-Sleeve Kick" recorded in the Mountain Spear Arts.

Ancient robes were broad and baggy, masking the limbs to allow for hidden strikes. The Under-Sleeve Kick was incomparably fierce and ruthless, striking directly at the groin with lethal intent.

The Baturu shifted his stance, his blade following his movement as he swept the gleaming edge toward Jiang He's hand. Sparks showered between them. Meanwhile, Jiang He snapped his lower leg outward with astonishing speed, viciously hammering the side of his enemy's knee. A crisp sound of bone shattering echoed between them.

This deceptive feint forced the Baturu’s lower leg into a gruesome angle, the sheer force of the blow compelling him to drop to one knee. As the massive cleaver lost its momentum and guard, Jiang He thrust his spear forward with both hands, the shaft smashing through the enemy's skull.

Cries of battle filled the air as four long spears thrust toward him simultaneously.

Jiang He released his left hand, and the Long-Hatred Spear snapped like a broken bowstring, unleashing a terrifying force. With a single sweep, the four spears shattered. The three-thousand-catty force sent the four Qing soldiers flying like ragdolls, their bodies pulped upon impact.

A dozen grappling hooks designed to ensnare martial arts masters flew toward him. These hooks were covered in barbs; once they pierced flesh, the pain was unbearable, and any attempt to pull them out would result in a bloody mess. Working in unison, a dozen men could restrain even the largest bear in the northern wilds.

Jiang He’s hands blurred as he spun the spear, weaving a web of steel and generating a protective aura that deflected every hook. He decisively activated Garuda Mode Three, his "Pure Cyan Heart" accelerating his blood flow, significantly enhancing his speed and reflexes.

He then leaped as lightly as a swallow, dodging an arrow fired from the shadows, and followed with five consecutive kicks, each faster and heavier than the last. The heads of two fully armored elite soldiers snapped instantly.

Landing on the ground, he drove straight into the formation. Jiang He swept his spear in an arc, his momentum like a truck barreling through a crowd. He cleared a patch of ground, leaving twelve soldiers dead in an instant, their broken bodies flying as blood rained down.

Just as he was bent backward, a Baturu leaped high, stabbing down with a barbed saber like a collapsing mountain. Jiang He rolled away, the blade burying itself a foot into the earth. Before he could rise, another Baturu lunged with a spear, aiming for his throat.

Jiang He triggered Garuda Mode One, manifesting a pure cyan defense at his throat. He shattered the enemy's spear shaft with raw force, then thrust his own weapon, exploding the Baturu’s brow.

Though two tribal warriors had fallen, the Qing soldiers were not cowed; instead, the gruesome death of their comrades fueled their rage. Spears and sabers struck from all sides. Jiang He moved constantly, maintaining his space, his spear thrusting repeatedly, easily piercing white armor and flesh alike.

The last remaining Baturu gripped his cleaver with both hands, the blade dancing into a blur of shadows. Unlike the direct, concise style of the Qing military, he clung to the spear shaft like mud.

Jiang He retreated three steps to dodge the relentless assault, then stepped firmly and launched a counter-attack. Once distance was gained, he utilized the space to build momentum. The Long-Hatred Spear released an incomparable shockwave, first shattering the cleaver, then piercing the Baturu’s heart. The residual force was like a thunderclap, sending blood spraying into the air.

Before dying, the tribal warrior gripped the spear shaft with his final strength.

In that momentary pause, a hail of blades descended upon him. An arrow whistled through the gap between his armor and scale tunic; it didn't pierce his gear, but it left a half-inch deep gash across his shoulder and arm.

It was an arrow from the Great Shaman, laced with a strange curse.

A chill washed over him. Jiang He deactivated Garuda Mode Three. He could not remove his armor now, so he fought through the dizziness flooding his mind. With a shake of his hand, he obliterated the Baturu before him, then pulled his spear back and struck seven times in rapid succession, bursting the brows of seven Qing soldiers.

Jiang He pushed forward, his spear an unstoppable force. After half a mile, corpses piled up on either side like man-made embankments, with blood flowing between them like a canal.

Beneath the Eight-Treasure Pagoda, Tie Duo watched with gleaming eyes. His personal guard battalion had already suffered two hundred casualties, but to him, soldiers were like mud—expendable tools. Having swept through the north, the death of soldiers was merely a statistic.

"With the help of this land-dragon, we shall take the Southern Ming capital with thousands fewer casualties. The glory of being the first to scale the walls, slay the generals, and seize the banner shall be his. Shaman, what of the investigation?"

"No record of this person," the Great Shaman replied.

Tie Duo fell silent, tapping his folding fan. Had he discovered the man's roots, he would have threatened his kin and family, or offered high offices and titles to turn him. Alas, things did not go as planned.

In a few seconds, his eyes filled with murderous intent.

"Then he must die here. Deploy the Stupa Battalion."

"At once."

A black hawk flew from the Shaman's hand drum. The Stupa Battalion consisted of only five hundred men, but they were superior even to the elite Halberd Battalion. Every soldier and horse was fully armored; they were true heavy cavalry. Even Tie Duo, with the greatest military achievements among the princes, had barely managed to assemble five hundred.

If the number exceeded a thousand, the Regent in the old capital would have immediately ordered them recalled, regardless of whether Tie Duo was his blood brother.

Half a quarter-hour later, Jiang He had advanced a full mile. On his player interface, the number of Qing soldiers killed exceeded five hundred.

The superior offensive power granted by the Long-Hatred Spear, the formidable defense of his rhinoceros and scale armor, and the continuous stamina recovery from his Pure Cyan Heart combined to form a machine of slaughter.

After crushing a soldier with his spear, Jiang He suddenly looked up. A dull thundering of hooves reached his ears, growing denser at a terrifying speed as the ground trembled violently.

The Qing soldiers ahead suddenly parted to the sides, revealing a surging black tide. A long, unbroken line of five hundred heavy cavalry charged, each holding a twelve-foot-long spear, galloping forward in a killing frenzy.

Jiang He lunged forward, using a close-quarters spear technique—"Heavenly Sparrow Spreads Wings"—to shatter two heavy cavalrymen and their horses. But the spears of the riders behind them reached him. The tips struck his armor, the kinetic energy concentrated into a single point, piercing through two layers of defense and fracturing his ribs.

"This is bad."

Jiang He was sent flying backward for dozens of meters. In his daze, it felt as if cars were rushing toward him, the drivers thrusting spears out of their windows—a piercing power that could easily punch through steel.

"But there is a difference."

This charge had flaws. Warhorses were not inanimate objects; they had fears. Soldiers often covered their horses' eyes during desperate charges, and after the widespread use of cannons, they had even begun plugging the horses' ears.

Jiang He landed and skidded back several paces. The curse and the pain in his body battered his sanity. He raised his hand and decisively released four "Gas Impacts."

In an instant, a shockwave erupted like a tsunami. An invisible torrent swept across the ground, toppling dozens of armored warhorses. The intense thermal radiation sent the herd into a panicked frenzy, ignoring the charge as they instinctively fled the source of the pain. The horses collapsed, the heavy cavalrymen fell, and the weight of their armor made their crashes particularly devastating.