Chapter 298: The Heart Demon Ancestor's Legacy

After hacking down a Xiongnu cavalryman who had scaled the city wall, Chen Yuanzhi raised his bloodied blade high and roared to his men:

“Clearwater County is my territory!”

“Did these damned Xiongnu dogs think they could steal our land without even asking us?!”

“Kill them all!”

His men, emboldened by his ferocity, surged into the fray. Wang Dacai let out a wild laugh as he brought his blade down on the head of a Xiongnu raider climbing the wall. Like Chen Yuanzhi, he had abandoned any thought of retreat, choosing to stand his ground and fight.

In this defensive battle, they held the advantage of terrain.

The battle raged until dusk.

Finally, they repelled the Xiongnu force. Chen Yuanzhi stood atop the city wall, surveying the scene. Plumes of black smoke billowed from burning structures, and the acrid stench of charred corpses filled the air.

Everywhere he looked, cries of anguish pierced the air.

This single victory, however, meant little in the grand scheme of the war. Clearwater County was too insignificant to even register on the maps of the Holy Dynasty’s high command. The gains Chen Yuanzhi and his men had bled for were like pebbles washed away by the tide, easily overlooked in the face of the larger conflict.

Ten days passed in a blur.

After dozens of battles, the fear in Chen Yuanzhi’s heart had vanished, but more than half of the brothers who had fought by his side were dead. The one who had asked him if he counted as a hero had leapt from the city wall three days ago, clutching a Xiongnu warrior, and their bodies had never been recovered. Wang Dacai was also wounded, but after a quick bandage, he remained on the wall to defend the city.

Two days earlier, another large wave of refugees had fled to Clearwater County. The surrounding territories had all fallen, and Xiongnu warriors roamed freely, slaughtering anyone they encountered. Clearwater County was the last sanctuary for the people. Chen Yuanzhi rallied the able-bodied refugees, swelling the defensive force to five hundred men. Through these newcomers, he learned of the dire situation in the north: the second defensive line had collapsed, and the main Xiongnu army was advancing unopposed, leaving only scattered pockets of resistance like theirs.

In the Imperial Court, high-ranking officials continued to debate whether to fight or sue for peace.

The third expeditionary force had yet to depart.

The light had gone out of everyone’s eyes; they could see no glimmer of hope anywhere.

“General, please have some water.”

Another unfamiliar face. Chen Yuanzhi didn’t recognize this man. Such scenes had become all too common these days. When the Chen family left, they had left him some military rations, but those supplies were long gone. With the siege dragging on, food was scarce in the city, and ordinary refugees were going hungry. Even water was strictly rationed; Xiongnu spies had poisoned many of the wells, leaving only a few safe sources.

Woooo!!

A deep war horn blared, signaling the Xiongnu’s impending assault.

Chen Yuanzhi set down his waterskin, raised his head, and gazed beyond the city walls. In that moment, a flood of memories surged through his mind: his youthful mischief, his father’s hopes for him, his mother’s loving care, his father’s expectations.

Finally, all those memories coalesced into unwavering resolve.

“Follow me to slay the enemy!”

Chen Yuanzhi drew his saber and climbed onto the battlements once more. Clearwater County’s repeated repulsions of Xiongnu attacks had finally drawn the attention of higher-ranking Xiongnu nobles, and Chen Yuanzhi’s name now appeared on their list of hard-to-crack targets. The Xiongnu King, in a show of magnanimity, had granted these stubborn defenders the privilege of surrendering and promised them the status of Xiongnu warriors.

This time, the assault was led by the Xiongnu’s Left Worthy Prince himself.

Unlike the previous skirmishes, when Chen Yuanzhi climbed onto the wall, he saw a dense sea of soldiers stretching beyond the horizon. The earlier battles now seemed like child’s play compared to the oppressive aura of the impending war.

“Big Brother, how many men do you think they have?” Wang Dacai, standing beside him, couldn’t help but ask.

“Who cares how many? Any Xiongnu who dare set foot in Clearwater County will be slaughtered without mercy!” Chen Yuanzhi gripped his saber and burst into a booming laugh.

War changes people. For veterans like Chen Yuanzhi who had weathered multiple campaigns, their resolve hardened rapidly.

“We can’t win… there are too many,” a militiaman trembled nearby. He was a newly recruited militiaman who had fought against the Xiongnu in the north and knew firsthand their terrifying strength.

“Hear ye, defenders of the wall!” a voice called out in formal Mandarin from below. “The Great Xiongnu Left Wise King seeks brave warriors! Kneel in surrender, shave your heads, and don Xiongnu garb, and we will bestow upon you the title of Xiongnu warrior, granting you the same privileges as our own people!”

Judging by his attire, the speaker appeared to be an official of the Holy Dynasty.

Surrender and live!

Many wavered, even some of Chen Yuanzhi’s veteran comrades. The overwhelming force of the approaching army bred fear. Though the Xiongnu were notorious for breaking their word, what if they kept their promise this time?

“Hahaha! My knees are straight—I’ll never kneel!” Chen Yuanzhi roared with laughter, his voice drowning out the surrounding clamor.

He snatched a bow and arrow, nocked the arrow, drew back the string, and aimed at the traitor shouting below. Having trained in martial arts since childhood, both Chen Yuanzhi and Wang Dacai were masters of all eighteen traditional weapons. The arrow streaked through the air like a silver meteor, striking the traitor in the throat with lethal precision.

The surrender envoy at the head of the enemy formation clutched his neck and collapsed, blood gushing from the wound. The sight instantly enraged the Xiongnu warriors behind him.

Inside the command tent, the Xiongnu Left Wise King raised his hand and flicked his wrist.

“Kill.”

The Xiongnu army surged forward, swarming toward the city walls.

The battle had officially begun.

Chen Luo appeared within the city. The Tribulation Qi he had absorbed in recent days had further strengthened his body. While he couldn’t yet reshape heaven and earth, he had become an unrivaled martial arts master among ordinary mortals. Standing in a civilian residence behind the lines, he watched Chen Yuanzhi’s valiant defense on the walls, gaining a deeper understanding of the nature of Tribulation.

The Demonic Heart Tribulation didn’t elevate everyone to the pinnacle of power. Not all Pass Transcendence cultivators achieved the same glory as Elder FusionSpirit, who held the highest office a subject could attain.

Tribulation, it seemed, manifested according to each individual’s own heart.

Chen Yuanzhi’s “tribulation” was far smaller, confined to this single county.

The battle raged for days.

The Xiongnu Left Wise King was thoroughly enraged. He never imagined wasting so much time on such a small place, with his Xiongnu warriors suffering such heavy losses. Even capturing the city wouldn’t compensate for these casualties.

“Shoot him down!”

The Xiongnu Left Wise King pointed at Chen Yuanzhi on the city wall and ordered the archers in his formation. He had originally intended to settle this with a duel, following the traditions of the steppe, but all such thoughts had vanished. Now, he only wanted to kill Chen Yuanzhi. The archers instantly drew their bows, the strings humming with tension.

Thwack!

A dark arrow whistled through the chaos of battle.

“Brother, watch out!”

Wang Dacai, standing beside Chen Yuanzhi, shoved him aside. The arrow pierced Wang Dacai’s chest, blood spurting out and splattering across Chen Yuanzhi’s face, jolting him out of his near-berserk state.

For a moment, the world seemed to freeze.

Chen Yuanzhi stared blankly at the growing number of Xiongnu warriors swarming the city walls. He quickly hoisted Wang Dacai onto his back and shouted to his remaining comrades:

“Retreat into the city! Every man for himself!”

Under his leadership, the survivors swiftly withdrew into the city, using the terrain to their advantage as they fought the Xiongnu.

The city walls had fallen.

A massive horde of Xiongnu warriors surged into the city.

Their densely packed ranks spread like black ink, rapidly engulfing the city’s colors. Countless civilians perished in the battle’s aftermath—the old woman who had brought Chen Yuanzhi water, the villagers who had hailed him as “General,” all slaughtered mercilessly. One by one, his comrades who had retreated with him through the city streets also fell.

Finally, in an alley to the left of the County Magistrate’s Office, Chen Yuanzhi found himself cornered by the Xiongnu.

Enemies swarmed on all sides.

With Wang Dacai’s lifeless body strapped to his back and a battered broadsword in his hand, Chen Yuanzhi stood at the brink of despair.

He swung his sword clumsily, but his exhausted body failed him. The attack was easily dodged.

With a sickening thud, a spear pierced his abdomen, followed by a blade to his back. Wang Dacai’s body slipped from his grasp and tumbled to the ground, but Chen Yuanzhi had no strength left to lift him. His vision blurred, and through the haze, he vaguely glimpsed his father, clad in his familiar blue scholar’s robe, standing atop the city wall.

In his father’s familiar tone, the figure asked:

“Why didn’t you flee? Aren’t you afraid to die?”

“I want to leave too. But the people of this city call me ‘General.’”

“If I abandon them, what will become of them?”

Chen Yuanzhi gazed at the horizon, murmuring to himself so softly that only he could hear. In that moment, he seemed to hear his father’s disappointed sigh once more. With his last breath, his eyes glazed over, and he collapsed heavily to the ground.

A pair of clean boots appeared in the alleyway. The newcomer was the Wise King of the Xiongnu, a corpulent middle-aged man with a thick beard and a face marked by fleshy folds. He stood beside Chen Yuanzhi, scrutinizing the frail man with a puzzled expression.

What had driven this man to such ferocity, to such a reckless disregard for death?

The answer would forever remain a mystery.

Chen Luo stood atop the city wall, watching the world fade as the Tribulation Qi began to dissipate. This ephemeral realm, conjured from a wisp of Tribulation Qi, dissolved like dust in the wind.

The Demonic Heart Tribulation had passed!

“Responsibility?”

Tribulation Qi swirled around him, intensifying the aura emanating from his body.

Countless silken threads materialized within the house as the Demonic Heart Art circulated. He found himself back in Cloudsoar County of the Heavenly Eye Kingdom, still inside the same dwelling.

Only half the night had passed.

The oil lamp on the table flickered, and Chen Luo’s spiritual energy surged at an unprecedented rate. He faintly sensed a subtle aura, strikingly similar to the Tribulation Qi he had encountered before. Initially, he had assumed this Tribulation Qi was a byproduct of his cultivation technique, but now it seemed that wasn’t the case.

“Could it be coming from this?” Chen Luo raised his hand, glancing at his wrist.

The Ghost Temple Prayer Beads, a gift from the Grand Void Ancestor, glowed with an eerie light.

This is the Tribulation Qi I refined, the Demonic Heart Ancestor’s consciousness within his External Brain instantly recalled upon sensing the wisp of Tribulation Qi.

Outside Cloudsoar County, two Ghost Temple cultivators stood concealed within the old forest. Strangely, Xuan Ji, a Core Formation cultivator from the Blackbird Clan nearby, remained oblivious to their presence. Like specters, the two figures stared intently at Cloudsoar County ahead, sensing the changes within.

“He couldn’t resist the temptation after all and absorbed that strand of Tribulation Qi,” a hoarse voice rasped, dripping with undisguised hatred.

“Any cultivator nearing Core Formation would be unable to resist such a thing. Now that he’s taken the bait, this phase of our plan is complete,” another voice echoed, the speakers completely shrouded in mist, exuding an unearthly aura.

“With his most cherished relatives dead, Old Ghost Guhe’s resolve will surely crumble.”

“Let’s return and prepare to deal with that old ghost Guhe!”

The Ghost Temple cultivator in the lead withdrew his gaze, turned, took a phantom step, and vanished into the distance with a teleportation-like motion.

“The Demonic Heart Ancestor’s legacy is not so easily claimed. The prayer beads still carry his curse—even I dare not touch them. Guhe may be a peerless genius, but he’s ultimately a lower realm cultivator with limited horizons.”