Chapter 49: Fierce Bravery Cannot Prevail

Sun Fuping was too lazy to answer. If the Illusion Barrier could hold out, he had no desire to cause further complications.

He Chunhua, however, urgently asked, "What do we do now?"

"Universal Law Borrowing." Sun Fuping spoke faster than ever before. "Prefect He, prepare your Order of the State!"

While He Chunhua fumbled for his tokens, Nian Songyu and Zeng Feixiong had already issued repeated orders for the soldiers to form a circular array, protecting all important figures in the center.

Zeng Feixiong shouted, "Hold on! The vengeful spirits are almost gone; we just need to hold on for a dozen more breaths!"

Although he said it to boost morale, his words weren't entirely wrong. The Great Wind Army soldiers emerging from the well were indeed dwindling, clearly nearing the end, no longer possessing their former overwhelming momentum.

No one could imagine what other vengeful spirits, besides the Great Wind Army, could possibly appear as the grand finale.

So this truly should have been the final wave.

Yet, no matter how beautiful their hopes, reality proved equally helpless. Just as everyone mustered their courage, the Illusion Barrier popped and shattered.

It shattered...

The earthy yellow light flickered twice, as if it had expended its last ounce of strength, then vanished.

Everyone's hearts tightened, and they secretly swallowed.

He Lingchuan had already shouted a warning: "Don't move!"

Although the Illusion Barrier was broken, the Soul-Suppressing Powder they had taken hadn't expired, and the life flames on their shoulders and foreheads were still present, perhaps?

After all, even without the barrier, the previous vengeful spirits hadn't detected them.

At that moment, a small detachment of the Great Wind Army, consisting of a commander and a dozen cavalrymen, surged out of the well.

They had just moved five zhang out when the Illusion Barrier shattered.

Gulp. A sand bandit subconsciously swallowed.

The dozen cavalrymen showed no abnormality, but the commander suddenly reined in his horse, turned, and stared directly at them.

His yellow piebald horse neighed, reared up, and spun around, its head now facing directly towards them.

The dozen cavalrymen also turned in unison.

Time seemed to freeze. The opposing side made no move; even the horses were perfectly still, tails unswayed.

During this strange standoff, the living could hear their own heartbeats thumping exceptionally loudly.

Nian Songyu squeezed words through gritted teeth: "Don't—move!"

Immediately after, the Great Wind Army commander spurred his horse's flanks, and the steed galloped forward, charging straight towards them!

The ten-plus cavalrymen followed closely behind.

Though they were mere soul bodies, just a small squad, their thundering hooves sounded like a thousand horses, charging with the momentum of a vast army, causing the very ground to tremble continuously.

He Lingchuan distinctly saw the leading commander's spear tip slightly rise, and a cold gleam flashed!

"Get out of the way, everyone get out of the way!" he roared. "They've seen us!" Then he dragged He Chunhua directly behind Sun Fuping.

If the sky were to fall, the Grand Preceptor would be there to hold it up.

The two sides were already close, and with the cavalry's speed, they were almost upon them in an instant.

He Lingchuan could even hear the snorting sounds from the horses' nostrils.

It was so real, and so dangerous.

Nian Songyu didn't even have time to roll his eyes. He leaped forward, placing himself in front of Sun Fuping, and with his right hand, produced a faceted shield, holding it before the two of them.

The angle at which he deployed the shield was cunning; he calculated that the valiant souls couldn't easily change direction during their explosive charge, so the shield was angled sideways, with no intention of a head-on clash.

Even so, he tensed his entire body, assuming a defensive posture.

This shield was crafted from the shell of a Leatherback Turtle Demon, and 150 years of cultivation had endowed it with astonishing hardness. Its grid-patterned surface could absorb external forces and nullify some magical attacks.

He Lingchuan was slightly startled: Could this thing withstand the attacks of intangible and formless vengeful spirits?

As if knowing his thoughts, Sun Fuping pointed a finger at Nian Songyu's shield and muttered, "Mu!"

The shield immediately emitted a faint green light.

As soon as he retracted his finger, the vengeful spirit commander's long spear struck the faceted shield, emitting a loud, dull thud.

Nian Songyu was knocked back seven steps, only managing to stay on his feet by bracing with his waist and legs.

Grand Preceptor Sun was right behind him, one hand on his shoulder, moving back with him. Yet, he appeared light as an empty sack, and upon landing, he was not only undaunted but even remarkably graceful.

Taking this opportunity, he extended a hand, and the staff, which had been planted in the very center of the formation, automatically flew back to him.

As for the He father and son, a breath before the spear and shield clashed, He Lingchuan had already pulled his father two steps aside, his footwork remarkably swift and precise. This allowed them to perfectly dodge the impact, unaffected.

He speculated that Nian Songyu's turtle shield was able to resist the vengeful spirits' attacks because of Grand Preceptor Sun's assistance. Otherwise, how could a simple physical defense block a magical attack?

Nian Songyu couldn't help but glance at He Lingchuan, thinking to himself that while the young man's cultivation and character were equally lacking, his instinct for survival was unexpectedly powerful, having allowed him to narrowly escape danger several times.

But others weren't as fortunate as the He father and son. While the Great Wind Army commander engaged Nian Songyu, the dozen ghost cavalrymen targeted Zeng Feixiong's team.

Without needing instruction, everyone scattered in all directions.

But how could two legs outrun four? In just two brief clashes, six individuals were pierced through the chest by the ghost soldiers.

Although the opponents had no physical form, these six individuals clutched their chests, writhing in pain on the ground, and two of them immediately spat blood. It was clear that the long spears in the ghost soldiers' hands were not merely for show; they could wound a person's soul.

They couldn't hide, nor could they fight. What were they to do?

Panic spread among them.

He Lingchuan shouted, "Commander Nian is holding off their leader!"

What he said was true; there were many witnesses.

Prompted by his reminder, everyone quickly regrouped.

The dozen-plus cavalrymen reined in their horses, preparing for another charge, but discovered that the invading group had reassembled in one spot. This time, it wasn't a circular formation; instead, all the soldiers had positioned themselves behind their leader.

Their formation, however, remained somewhat disorganized.

The leading Great Wind Army commander looked at the crowd, then at the fallen injured, and surprisingly tilted his head.

This gesture strongly resembled a human in thought.

Situ Han whispered, "This fellow can think?"

He Lingchuan also had a bad feeling. This commander's combat prowess was already formidable; if he could also strategize, he could turn this assault into a terrifying display of tactics!

As expected, his fears materialized. The Great Wind Army commander lightly shook his reins, and the yellow piebald horse once again charged towards the crowd.

However, as he passed the well, the commander lowered his arm and dipped the tip of his spear into the water.

This time, Nian Songyu again exerted himself to deflect the charge, but his arms were aching from the impact, and the web of his left hand had split open.

To everyone's surprise, as the commander galloped past the side of the crowd, the spear tip, which had been swung aside, was suddenly retracted, spun, and then thrust out again!

It was as swift as a dragonfly skimming water.

The sand bandit standing at the very front was impaled through the throat by a single spear thrust.

The move was clean, precise, and executed with effortless control.

By the time a few drops of blood splattered on the faces of the sand bandit's companions, the yellow piebald horse had already charged three zhang away, the sand bandit impaled on the long spear. He wasn't dead yet, his body convulsing continuously. The commander, still holding him on the spear, turned around, and a stream of blood flowed down, soaking his trousers and dripping onto the sand.