Chapter 59: The Piercing Blade

On the battlefield, Zhao Ergou was practically a human-shaped reaping machine, rumbling forward relentlessly. Human lives in his eyes were no different from leeks in a field, harvested row after row.

Both friendly and enemy forces were caught in a giant meat grinder, where men were continually minced and vanished without a trace.

Suddenly, several powerful auras erupted from the Rongdi army, akin to ancient beasts slumbering for centuries abruptly awakening. The sheer pressure sent shivers straight down people's spines.

Five Rongdi Xiantian martial artists, like five razor-sharp knives polished to a gleam, stabbed straight toward the city walls.

From the defenders atop the ramparts, five figures soared out like small mountains, blocking the paths of the five Rongdi Xiantian experts.

The Xiantian experts clashed without a single word. In an instant, the color of the sky shifted, as if the sun and moon were about to be knocked down.

The fighting below the Xiantian level grew increasingly fierce as well.

The Houtian martial artists within the Rongdi army, howling like wolves starved for centuries, charged madly at the city walls.

The garrison captains were equally ruthless characters, leaping forward to engage them in brutal combat.

And what about Zhao Ergou?

He was like an unbridled wild horse, charging back and forth through the ranks of Rongdi soldiers, radiating supreme dominance!

The saber in his hand was nothing less than the scythe of the Grim Reaper; touch meant injury, and contact meant death.

Even experts at the martial master level were as fragile as paper before him, easily punctured with a single thrust.

As the body count rose, the bloodlust value accumulated on him soared rapidly.

The bloodlust value quickly broke the three-hundred mark, making Zhao Ergou’s eyes light up. This was truly good stuff!

"Ha, I really am a genius! This bloodlust value is simply tailored for me!" Zhao Ergou thought with immense satisfaction. Without hesitation, he spent one hundred and fifty points of his bloodlust value to elevate his cultivation to the peak of the martial artist realm.

At that moment, he felt his entire body surging with strength, feeling as though a single punch of his could shatter the very heavens!

His power was now sufficient to go toe-to-toe with a peak martial master!

Unless other Houtian martial artists stepped in, absolutely no one could stop him!

"Who else?! Who else dares defy me?!" Zhao Ergou roared up at the sky, his voice echoing across the battlefield like a thunderclap.

Without pausing, Zhao Ergou consumed another hundred and fifty points of bloodlust value, breaking through his cultivation to the early martial master stage.

Having crossed into the martial master realm, Zhao Ergou finally felt a tiny shred of security in this world.

Of course, just a tiny shred, not a fraction more.

With his cultivation broken through and his strength skyrocketing, Zhao Ergou slaughtered even more frantically!

"Brothers, watch Zhao Ergou paint the field with blood!" he yelled, wielding his saber like a fierce tiger descending from the mountains, plunging directly into the mass of Rongdi troops.

He was like a humanoid tyrannosaur, utterly ferocious. The "Rampaging Wolf Three Sabers" in his grip had long since been mastered to perfection; every sweep of his blade claimed a life.

"Come on! Get over here, all of you!" Zhao Ergou roared tauntingly as he hacked and slashed, his arrogance knowing no bounds.

Dozens of Rongdi soldiers, their eyes stained red with fury, swarmed him, eager to chop this arrogant fellow into mincemeat. But how could they possibly match Zhao Ergou?

A flash of blade light, limbs and blood flying everywhere—these Rongdi soldiers fell dead one after another like harvested wheat.

"Haha, is that all? You guys are way too weak!" Zhao Ergou laughed heartily, his smugness fully on display.

"Step back, all of you! I'll deal with him!"

A booming voice rang out, exploding across the battlefield like rolling thunder.

From among the Rongdi soldiers emerged a giant standing eight feet tall, his body a mass of iron-hard muscles. The ground trembled with every single step he took.

"It's the Yazhi General!"

"The Yazhi General has stepped in; that kid is a dead man!"

"Lord Yazhi General is an expert just a hair's breadth away from breaking into the Houtian realm! A peak martial master—killing him will be as easy as turning over a hand!"

"Kill him! Avenge our fallen tribesmen!"

Seeing this towering warrior, the Rongdi soldiers were instantly injected with adrenaline, howling and surging in morale.

Hulü Taxue, the Yazhi General of the Rongdi, gripped a long saber, glaring fixedly at Zhao Ergou with eyes the size of ox-bells.

Zhao Ergou’s battle robe was soaked through, thoroughly stained with the blood of Rongdi soldiers—a blinding, spine-chilling red!

Hulü Taxue stared at Zhao Ergou, sensing a faint trace of danger emanating from the young Qin warrior before him.

Though the opponent’s aura was merely at the early martial master stage, Hulü Taxue did not dare to harbor the slightest bit of carelessness.

"Boy, you're quite arrogant!"

Hulü Taxue rumbled in a deep voice, "Too bad for you running into me today—consider your luck run out!"

"Ha, big guy, you talk as if you've already got me in the bag!"

Zhao Ergou laughed aloud, his face full of disdain. "Come, come, let this young master see what you're really made of!"

"Die!"

Hulü Taxue roared in fury, brandishing his long saber with a ferocious expression as he lunged straight at Zhao Ergou, as if intent on tearing him limb from limb.

Hulü Taxue radiated a bloody aura like a steaming crab pulled straight from boiling water.

And Zhao Ergou?

He was a master of defying trouble! The bloodlust within him surged outward like an erupting volcano, ready to vent onto his opponent at any moment.

His killing intent was so thick it was almost tangible, making him look like a living god of slaughter that could turn one's legs to jelly at a mere glance.

Zhao Ergou planted his saber into the ground, lightly tipped his toes against it, and shot forward like a taut bowstring.

The saber in his hand seemed to spring to life, every movement and stance imbued with spirituality, shifting unpredictably until it was impossible to fathom.

Every strike carried a ruthless edge, as though he wouldn't be satisfied until he had minced his enemy.

The two exchanged blows blade against blade, engaging in a fierce flurry that crossed dozens of exchanges in the blink of an eye.

Hulü Taxue’s expression gradually turned as ugly as if he had swallowed a fly, and the hand gripping his saber began to tremble.

He discovered that the strength of this kid Zhao Ergou was actually greater than his own!

In heaven's name, how could this make any sense?

Clearly, Zhao Ergou's cultivation realm was two tiers lower than his, yet his actual combat power seemed even more monstrous!

Could this brat have grown up eating supernatural pills of Herculean strength?

Hulü Taxue felt utterly depressed.

And then there was Zhao Ergou's sword technique—it was practically a death warrant. Every strike carried lethal intent, and the sharp blade momentum formed an inescapable net that pressed down on him until he could barely breathe.

"Pfft!"

After clashing over a hundred more times, Zhao Ergou seized an opening and brought his blade down heavily into Hulü Taxue's arm.