Crippled Joe and Quinn Shepherd walked out from Qingmen Pass. Inside the pass, the many Everpeace generals all frowned deeply. General Bian Zhenyun hurried to consult the Imperial Preceptor, but the Preceptor simply shook his head: "No need to send help. With Crippled Joe present, no one in the world can kill Cult Master Quinn."
"Crippled Joe?" Everyone turned to look at him—the old man had all four limbs intact and moved with uncanny speed. How was he crippled?
"Crippled in the heart."
The Imperial Preceptor’s expression soured slightly. "Crippled in virtue, crooked in body and shadow, crippled in his mind. No need to discuss him. Daniel Shan, how many Divine Firmament Rings have the Ministry of Works and the Imperial Academy refined so far?"
"Fourteen thousand rings refined."
Daniel Shan said, "They’re already mounted on the true-essence cannons. In another day, the remaining few thousand will be done. Then we can attack the enemy camp."
The Imperial Preceptor looked toward the enemy stronghold across the way, his tone calm: "No need to wait another day. Relay my orders to all armies—prepare to advance immediately. Tower-ships, form up and push straight through! General Bian, Grand Marshal, Supporting State General, Cavalry General, Pillar State Duke, Guardian Duke, Pillar State General, Champion General, Hua Hua General!"
He named them one by one, and the many Everpeace generals all stepped forward, awaiting his command.
After the rebellion of former Crown Prince Ling Yuxia, all his faction’s officials had been purged. Yet Everpeace is a land of talent—Emperor Evan promoted many new officials to fill the ranks, so there was no gap in leadership.
The Imperial Preceptor said gravely, "Deploy the rear armies behind the tower-ships. As the ships advance, the main forces will sweep through and clear the field. Your task is to keep your eyes on their Divine Bridge and Life-and-Death Realm experts—be ready to strike them down at any moment!"
All the generals felt a chill. The Guardian Duke said, "Imperial Preceptor, Cult Master Quinn is still at the front. If we attack rashly, the enemy may target him."
The Imperial Preceptor smiled. "The moment he retreats will be our signal to attack. There's no need to worry for his safety. With Crippled Joe there, only a handful in the world could even touch him."
General Bian Zhenyun asked, "Who will command the tower-ships?"
Originally, the tower-ships were dispersed among the various armies, each under its own general’s command. Now, the Imperial Preceptor had changed tactics: all tower-ships would spearhead the assault, requiring a new dedicated force. Only a master of siege warfare could coordinate so many ships and adapt to the ever-shifting battlefield.
The Imperial Preceptor’s eyes flashed. "Summon all mid-level officers from every army! And have the Imperial Supervisors from the Academy come as well!"
Moments later, hundreds of mid-level officers and Imperial Supervisors from the Academy had assembled.
"Two hundred and forty-five tower-ships—like wielding two hundred and forty-five flying swords."
The Imperial Preceptor swept his gaze around the room. "Those skilled in sword arts, who can control two hundred and forty-five flying swords at once—step forward."
Over fifty sword adepts from the officers and Imperial Supervisors stepped forward.
The Imperial Preceptor’s yuanqi erupted, transforming into flying swords that whirled around him. "Attack me. Whoever breaks through my sword array and strikes me will be the new army commander!"
Over fifty experts unleashed their sword arts, attacking the Imperial Preceptor. Instantly, countless sword-lights whirled and clashed, the air ringing with a dense storm of metallic collisions!
The Imperial Preceptor stood motionless, controlling the swarm of sword-lights with his mind, blocking every attack from the fifty-plus generals and Imperial Supervisors.
Suddenly, a general was struck in the chest by a sword-light—but the Preceptor’s blade did not wound him. He immediately withdrew from the contest.
As time passed, more and more were struck and withdrew, until only a dozen or so sword adepts remained in the fray.
Guardian Duke Bian Zhenyun and the others watched in silent admiration. The remaining dozen were all outstanding sword artists—masters in technique, only lacking in cultivation.
Everpeace breeds talent. It was a gratifying sight.
Soon, only three remained. Suddenly, one conjured a blazing sword-sun, its red light illuminating the hall. A streak of sword-light shot from the sun, piercing through the Preceptor’s defenses and leaving a tiny hole in his robe’s hem.
The Imperial Preceptor raised his hand, signaling the three to stop. He looked at the one who had nicked his robe. "Everglow Hall Imperial Supervisor?"
The man who struck his robe was the Sword Hall Master. He bowed. "Everglow Hall, Trevor Jensen."
The Imperial Preceptor nodded, turning to the other general who had conjured the sword-sun—his Sunset Sword style had enabled the Sword Hall Master’s success. "General Evan Yu of Guiding Virtue?"
Evan Yu bowed. "Imperial Preceptor."
The Imperial Preceptor smiled. "Trevor Jensen, you are the new army commander; Evan Yu, you are the deputy. You have half an hour to memorize every ship’s officer and number. Remember: when commanding tower-ships, think of them not as ships, but as your flying swords!"
Sword Hall Master’s eyes flashed with sword-light. "Imperial Preceptor, what are your orders?"
The Imperial Preceptor pointed at the towering fortress opposite them. "Flatten Helan Pass!"
Sword Hall Master’s body trembled with excitement. He turned to gaze at the enemy fortress, his chest swelling with heroic fervor.
Meanwhile, Quinn Shepherd and Crippled Joe had arrived at the Duck-Tongue Strip.
"Ben Coates, well met!" Quinn called out with a hearty laugh.
Ben Coates smiled faintly, glancing left and right. "Khan Roland, this is the Cult Master of Heavenly Demon. Not exactly the kind of man who can unleash sword-light like an ocean, is he?"
Behind him, Khan Roland’s gaze was like lightning as he fixed his eyes on Quinn. "This is the youth. When he arrived on the battlefield, his terrifying sword arts erupted—enough to leave one breathless."
Quinn glanced past Ben Coates and was momentarily taken aback.
Behind Ben Coates trailed the khans of the prairie and the Witch King of Loulan Golden Palace, but one figure drew every eye.
He was tall and powerfully built, even taller than the Sword Hall Master or the Apothecary. Though it was late summer, he wore a thick fur cloak, with a golden saber and a quiver at his belt.
"The prairie’s mighty lord—Khan Roland!" Quinn felt the fiery intensity of Khan Roland’s gaze and instantly guessed his identity.
Years ago, the Witch Sovereign personally bestowed the khan’s title upon him. ‘Khan Roland’ means the world’s greatest archer, and his tribe excelled in mounted archery. From that moment, Khan Roland’s power soared across the prairie.
Khan Roland’s martial prowess was unmatched. He was far more than just an archer. Back when Quinn and Libationer Bashan met Ben Coates atop this fortress’s walls—before Ben was possessed—his boxing skills left both men astonished.
Back then, Ben Coates’s boxing techniques traced their lineage to Khan Roland—proof that his strength went far beyond archery.
Khan Roland was often compared to Emperor Evan; both were bold reformers. Roland seemed to model himself after Evan, learning his ways, reforming the chaotic tribal politics of the prairie, swallowing up rival clans, and rooting out every witch-cult. He absorbed their strongest into his armies.
If not for the subtle obstruction from Loulan Golden Palace, he might have unified the prairie long ago.
At that time, Loulan Golden Palace feared that if Roland unified the prairie, he would follow the lead of the Imperial Preceptor and Emperor Evan and suppress the Golden Palace. So they withheld support—until the Grand Venerable reincarnated as Ben Coates, who reclaimed the Golden Palace and threw their full backing behind Roland’s quest for unification.
"Khan Roland’s strength is not much less than Emperor Evan’s."
Quinn smiled, stepping ahead of Crippled Joe. He called out loudly, "Ben Coates, is that your father, Khan Roland, behind you?"
Ben Coates showed no reaction, only laughing. "Trying to provoke me, you little scoundrel?"
"Brother Roland!"
With a broad smile, Quinn bowed to Khan Roland. "Heavenly Demon Cult Master, greeting the khan of the prairie."
Khan Roland frowned, uncertain how to respond. Quinn was clearly trying to get the better of Ben Coates—if Roland returned the bow, Ben would be forced to call Quinn uncle; if he did not, it would be rude, and when Everpeace fell, Quinn would surely make things difficult for him.
Ben Coates saw his dilemma and laughed. "Khan Roland, that little brat Quinn will drive you mad. He can kill you with words alone—makes you want to tear him to pieces. Now you’ve met him, you know his real skill is in his mouth. Nothing to worry about."
Khan Roland asked, "So the one who unleashed that ocean of sword-light—is it the old man behind him?"
Ben Coates didn’t know Crippled Joe, so he shook his head. "No. It was an old, limbless wretch. Don’t worry, that old devil won’t act lightly—his rules bind him too tightly. And in a few days, someone from the heavens will come to deal with him."
He smiled. "Once he’s dead, you can flatten Qingmen Pass and ride straight in—become master of the Central Plains!"
Khan Roland quickly said, "Then Loulan Golden Palace will be the one true sacred land under heaven!"
Ben Coates laughed. "No need to be so cautious. I don’t care about being the first or only sacred land. My ambitions are far higher than you can imagine."
He thought of the Golden Scripture Scroll he kept close, and his heart burned with desire—his fists clenched unconsciously.
At that moment, Quinn strode over, beaming. "Khan Roland, how rude! I bowed to you and you didn’t return the courtesy. No wonder Ben Coates turned out like this—must be the poor upbringing."
Ben Coates’s face darkened, about to retort, but Quinn suddenly rushed toward him, shouting, "Ben Coates, get over here and call me uncle! Uncle will spank you!"
Ben Coates was furious. He saw the old man still standing far away, smiling, and his anger flared. He charged at Quinn, sneering, "Quinn, last time on the ship I couldn’t kill you—this time you’ll die on the battlefield!"
The two collided with a thunderous crash, their magic erupting, divine arts clashing, sending the air swirling outward in shockwaves!
Ben Coates felt his arms go numb, his heart shaken. "I’m already at the peak of the Six Directions Realm, yet this brat’s magic is still not weaker than mine!"
Quinn brought his hands together, and countless sword-lights burst from the Glutton Dragon Pouch at his back, soaring into the sky to attack Ben Coates!
Ben Coates hurried to defend himself, but suddenly the sword-lights converged into a shining silver sphere that pressed down on him. He raised his hands to hold up the massive sword-ball, grunting as it forced him into the ground.
Khan Roland and the Witch King of Loulan Golden Palace rushed forward to rescue Ben Coates, attacking fiercely. Quinn quickly opened his Glutton Dragon Pouch and stowed away the sword-ball. Meanwhile, the smiling old man vanished like a ghost, flickering among the crowd—everyone felt as if they were being attacked all at once!
At the same time, Ben Coates resurfaced from the ground, shouting, "Don’t fight him head-on—prove yourself on the battlefield!"
Quinn and the old man weren’t interested in a drawn-out fight; they suddenly turned and sprinted toward Qingmen Pass like twin plumes of smoke.
The kindly-faced old man raised his hands, holding a mountain of clothing and spirit weapons—Khan Roland and the others found themselves stripped of every garment and weapon, left standing bewildered and bare.
Quinn, meanwhile, clutched the Golden Scripture Scroll—and a pair of underpants—fleeing madly toward Qingmen Pass.
Ben Coates stared in shock, hurriedly checked his clothes, and let out a scream that shook the heavens.
His treasured Golden Scripture Scroll had vanished—along with his underpants!
"Catch them!" Ben Coates shouted furiously.
Just then, the gates of Qingmen Pass swung open. Troops poured out, and from behind the walls, warships floated into the sky, their prows aimed at Helan Pass.
Giants stood at the bows, pounding the battle drums—each beat thundered across the sky.
The Imperial Preceptor’s voice rang through the city: "Warriors, flatten Helan Pass for me!"