Chapter 147: Total Slaughter, Clash with a Warmth Realm Fighter |
Lumberjack Realm, Digging Realm, even Warmth Realm—all of these measure combat ability by raw strength.
If that's the case, then numerical superiority becomes decisive.
More people means more power—that's not an empty saying!
When Xia Hong closed in on He Meng, he observed the opponent’s muscle energy changes and estimated He Meng’s base strength at around forty-three thousand jin, meaning He Meng was already reshaping his skin membrane, preparing to break into the Warmth Realm.
One near-Warmth-Realm fighter charging at him accompanied by twenty-three Digging Realm opponents—of course that put pressure on him.
When his gaze flicked back and saw seven people nocking arrows and aiming at him, Xia Hong’s brows tightened.
Like Great Xia, the Mirror Immortal Camp’s hunting team was impeccably coordinated.
He Meng led sixteen men to charge straight at him while seven archers provided cover from behind.
Although their emotions ran high, they still maintained teamwork.
Xia Hong snorted coldly, raised his long ceremonial saber, targeted the seven archers, felt out the situation, pivoted, and with the momentum, exerted his right hand and hurled the saber at the one in the center.
Sss…
The one-point-seven-meter saber became a spear in an instant.
Thirty-plus meters vanished in a breath. That man had only just nocked an iron-tipped arrow when his brow was pierced through—the man died instantly.
At the same time he threw the saber, Xia Hong’s left hand didn’t idle.
He had already taken the two-meter double-bladed giant axe from his back, gripped it horizontally with both hands, and carved a semicircular arc in front of him, intersecting the big knives of the group charging him led by He Meng.
Clang… clang… clang… clang…
A dozen metallic clashes rang out. The seven who had charged the fastest collided with the giant axe and were all smashed ten-plus meters backward; three even had their swords torn from their hands.
Boom!
Thud…
Seven men hit the ground with a series of thunderous impacts; six of them had no strength even to get up, coughed up blood and passed out—completely helpless.
“Use bows, don’t get close!”
The only one who managed to rise, He Meng, showed fear on his face and barked orders, stopping the others from continuing their charge.
Clang…
Xia Hong, who had swept away seven men with a single axe swing, did not let up for an instant; he continued to wield the giant axe wildly, forming an axe curtain in front of him that blocked the iron-tipped arrows fired by the six remaining archers.
“Luckily, my current strength is more than enough to swing this axe!”
Through the axe curtain, Xia Hong saw the sixteen Mirror Immortal Camp men beginning to withdraw on He Meng’s command, their eyes burning with killing intent.
Obviously, they recognized that head-on fighting wouldn’t work—they planned to rely entirely on bows.
“At this close range, arrows only work if you have time!”
Between swings, Xia Hong’s gaze flicked to a gap, and he suddenly sprinted forward, almost instantly catching up with ten of the retreating men.
He didn’t bother with He Meng on the flank. The rapidly rotating axe curtain neared the ten; the tremendous force created a suction that immediately drew in the slowest runner.
Crack… snap… crack…
First one, second, third…
The axe curtain swept like autumn wind blowing away dead leaves, crushing people one after another. Those drawn in could not withstand Xia Hong’s terrifying force—either cleaved by the giant axe or smashed with bone-shattering impacts.
Even when they reacted fast and tried to block with blades, the outcome was the same: both man and knife were flung aside. By the time they hit the ground their bodies were grotesquely twisted—no chance of survival.
Clang clang…
Absurdly, the six archers at the farthest distance still found their arrows stopped by Xia Hong’s axe curtain; they couldn’t reach him at all.
That curtain repelled everything like an impenetrable shield—neither water nor oil would touch it. They were helpless.
“How can he be so strong? How can he be so strong!”
Watching Xia Hong cut down the ten men who had charged with him within just a few breaths, He Meng trembled inwardly. Seeing the axe curtain still wreaking havoc, hatred and a blazing jealousy filled his eyes.
He could not understand why Xia Hong—who had seemed weak in previous encounters—had suddenly become so powerful.
“Run! Go tell the leader!!!”
Fueled by jealousy and seeing Xia Hong closing in on the last six, He Meng could no longer hold back. He roared and charged in from the flank, swinging his blade at Xia Hong’s back.
Xia Hong raised an eyebrow—he had ignored He Meng earlier to first deal with the archers, which was why He Meng had hung back.
“You won’t escape!”
Xia Hong snorted, his gaze like a blazing torch, and stopped swinging the giant axe.
At the instant He Meng’s blade came down, Xia Hong pivoted, braced the axe horizontally to block.
Clang…
As he blocked the blade, Xia Hong’s expression hardened and he drove off the ground with his right leg, delivering a powerful upright kick to He Meng’s abdomen.
Bang…
He Meng’s belly collapsed inward by nearly half its size.
He flew backward more than twenty meters, punching through the snow and rolling another five or six meters, dragging a two-meter-wide trough of snow behind him.
If not for the snow resisting the momentum, that trough would have been even longer.
“Wah…”
He Meng leaned against a snowdrift and spat blood two to three meters away. His face was pale, his life force draining fast. Even so, when he looked up at Xia Hong his eyes showed no fear—only deep hatred and murderous resentment.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh…
“Don’t kill them all—take prisoners!”
Xia Hong ignored He Meng’s glare and turned to see the last six already surrounded by Xia Chuan and the other seventeen. He shouted.
He had stopped swinging the giant axe earlier to focus on He Meng because he knew Xia Chuan and the others had arrived.
Walking up to He Meng, Xia Hong’s face darkened as he asked in a low voice, “Who gave you the nerve to come to Redwood Ridge and kill people from Great Xia?”
He Meng, slumped on the ground, gasped for air—barely breathing in more than out—looked up with a weak face but with murderous light still blazing in his pupils:
“You think killing us solves it? You’re finished. Your Great Xia camp is finished. Wait—watch Mirror Immortal camp crush Great Xia…”
“Stop!”
Sss…
“Kill them all—no prisoners!”
Sss…
Ignoring the distant shouts of “Spare them,” Xia Hong cleaved He Meng’s head off with a single axe stroke. At his command, Xia Chuan and the others surged forward without hesitation and slaughtered the remaining six.
Thus, including He Meng and He Gang, the entire Mirror Immortal hunting party that crossed the boundary tonight—twenty-five men in total—were all killed!
After finishing off the last six, Xia Chuan and the others didn’t forget to gather their weapons and packs before rushing to Xia Hong’s side.
“Did I tell you to stop? Are you deaf?”
At the angry rebuke, Xia Hong and the others looked north.
Ten meters away on the snow stood a broad-faced, clean-skinned man in black, holding an enormous broad sword and glaring at them.
“This is Yuwen Hu—and he’s alone?”
From his looks, weapon, skin, and the unreadable muscle energy changes, Xia Hong and the others immediately recognized him.
Realizing that the man before them was one of Mirror Immortal Camp’s only two Warmth Realm experts, Yuwen Hu, Xia Hong tensed and immediately focused on the area behind him.
He had truly come alone!
After four or five breaths Xia Hong relaxed a little and deliberately met Yuwen Hu’s gaze, saying: “May I ask who you are and what relation you have to these men? Under ordinary circumstances I would spare your face, but these men have blood feuds with Great Xia—killing them is the only way to lay grievances to rest. I hope you can understand.”
The middle-aged man’s expression froze, then when he saw Xia Hong’s smile he realized Xia Hong was pretending not to know him. He stared for many breaths and his look darkened.
“Tao said you were prudent and steady, but apparently he was wildly mistaken!”
He meant: I shouldn’t have killed He Meng and those men!
Xia Hong immediately understood Yuwen Hu’s implication. He lowered his gaze slightly and didn’t argue—simply stood and waited.
“You probably think because He Meng killed first and now paid with his life, that’s only fair, right?”
Of course.
Even though no reply came, the expressions on Xia Hong and his people’s faces answered. Yuwen Hu sneered twice and continued:
“That kind of justice only applies if your Great Xia’s strength equals that of Mirror Immortal Camp! Do you understand?”
At the final question Yuwen Hu’s voice increased and he leaned on his sword, instantly covering the dozens of meters in a step as his broad sword fanned out a gust of wind aimed at Xia Hong’s face.
“Back!”
Xia Hong had been wary and immediately ordered his people to fall back as Yuwen Hu moved. He braced the giant axe with both hands and absorbed the brunt of the gust.
Bang…
“This…”
“That…”
The clash of broad sword against giant axe sent sparks flying and a shockwave that tossed the surrounding snow meters into the air.
Both Xia Hong, who staggered three or four meters back, and Yuwen Hu, who had thrust the sword forward, felt the other’s force and both showed surprise.
“This kid hasn’t even entered Warmth Realm yet, and he already has near a mane’s worth of force!”
Standing where he was, Yuwen Hu’s pupils constricted. Though he masked it with calm, shock filled him.
Three or four breaths later his trembling hands stilled.
Xia Hong, after a brief shock, rapidly shifted expression to one of amusement—he had apparently figured something out.
“My previous assumptions were wrong. The Warmth Realm’s threshold isn’t fixed at one hundred fifty thousand jin. The increase to base strength during skin membrane reshaping varies by person!”
Xia Hong felt a surge of excitement inside.
He couldn’t precisely measure the power behind Yuwen Hu’s strike, but he was certain it fell between one hundred ten and one hundred twenty thousand jin.
The first time he’d met Yuwen Tao in the north, he sensed Tao’s force exceeded his by over forty thousand jin and hadn’t thought much of it then.
But tonight, when hunting He Meng’s party, he’d detected He Meng and He Gang each had forces over forty thousand jin.
Among the more than twenty others, three had strengths above thirty thousand jin.
Xia Hong’s thoughts churned.
Anyone with strength over thirty thousand had already begun reshaping their skin membrane.
It seemed mid-tier Frost Beast blood was not that hard to obtain.
Especially for a large camp like Mirror Immortal!
There was no reason every person reshaping their membrane should only have strengths in the thirty to fifty thousand range—surely there should be some over fifty thousand.
Then, seeing He Meng’s shocked face after sensing Xia Hong’s force made Xia Hong form a bold hypothesis.
And now, standing before Yuwen Hu’s strike, that hypothesis became fact.
“During skin membrane reshaping, the growth in base strength is not fixed and varies by person. The higher the potential, the greater the increase—and the more Frost Beast blood required and the longer the time.
But correspondingly, the final Warmth Realm strength will be superior. Some might even, before the membrane reshaping finishes, have their base strength raised to rival a Warmth Realm fighter!”
Xia Hong looked steadily at Yuwen Hu, and a flash of fighting intent crossed his eyes.
His base strength was already near seventy thousand jin; with his Long Fist mastery his output could increase by twenty to thirty percent—nearly ninety thousand jin.
Yuwen Hu was strong, but he had come alone…
“No need for torches!”
Xia Hong’s eyes went cold. Having spoken, he gripped the giant axe and charged at Yuwen Hu.
Around them, the trees had long been manned by Xia Chuan and the others who had prepared torches; hearing the murderous calm in Xia Hong’s voice, they sheathed torches, picked up their bows, and took aim at Yuwen Hu.
Clang…
Yuwen Hu blocked the giant axe, surprise flickering across his face.
Obviously he hadn’t expected Xia Hong to rush him. Seeing over ten iron-tipped arrows already aimed at him, he realized Xia Hong and his men intended to capture him.
“Tao’s words had merit—this Xia Hong…”
Though anger showed on Yuwen Hu’s face, his son’s description of Xia Hong—steady, cautious—flashed through his mind and he felt a grudging appreciation.
“Adding decisive ruthlessness to that list wouldn’t be wrong!”
Xia Hong’s choice to try to capture a single Warmth Realm fighter instead of fleeing showed he believed victory was possible even with only one enemy opponent.
“Well then, since you’ve torn ties with us, you strike first!”
Recognition and reluctance mingled in Yuwen Hu’s mind, but appreciation could not erase his anger. As he blocked the giant axe with his broad sword, he poured his strength into a sweep that sent Xia Hong flying.
He pressed his advantage, charging and using the sword’s momentum to thrust upward at Xia Hong’s face. The sword’s force swept snow tens of meters into the air, nearly covering Xia Hong, and aimed from his abdomen up to his jaw.
Whoosh… whoosh… whoosh…
A dozen arrows suddenly shot from all directions. Seeing they targeted his arms and knowing Xia Chuan and the others were trying to force him back, Yuwen Hu’s face hardened and a cold sneer appeared.
“With such measly strength you think you can drive me off? How naive!”
Despite the arrows, Yuwen Hu didn’t dodge; he gripped the sword and continued the upward thrust.
When the iron-tipped arrows struck his arm, Yuwen Hu shuddered as if moved by wind, and the snow around him rippled slightly.
Clang clang clang…
Xia Chuan and the seventeen hidden among the trees were stunned.
They watched as their best shots—arrows fired with all their might from the Ten-Dan Iron-Backed Bows—failed to pierce Yuwen Hu’s arm, sounding as if they had hit an iron wall before falling to the ground.
“Big brother, watch out!”
Xia Chuan didn’t need to warn him. Seeing the arrows bounce off Yuwen Hu’s membrane, Xia Hong felt his pressure spike to the utmost.
So that was the full power of a completely reshaped skin membrane—arrows with tens of thousands of jin behind them couldn’t break it.
Yuwen Hu didn’t retreat, so his upward sword strike inevitably reached Xia Hong’s belly.
Shing…
Feeling the pain in his abdomen, Xia Hong realized it wasn’t an opening slash but a heavy blow—the broad sword had double-edged sides. Its tip was blunt, usually used for collisions.
“If that’s the case…”
A ruthless glint crossed Xia Hong’s eyes. He dropped the giant axe, abandoned retreat, and thrust his abdomen forcibly forward, grabbing the sword’s raised edge with his left hand despite his palm being cut. He then pushed off the ground and leapt upward.
Yuwen Hu had already sensed the forward push, so he continued the upward motion. His intent was to use the sword’s arc to split Xia Hong open, killing him.
Although the snow veil hid the sight, at the instant of the sword’s upward motion Yuwen Hu felt Xia Hong’s body rapidly rising.
A predatory grin crossed Yuwen Hu’s face as he redoubled the upward force.
Whoosh…
At that crucial moment a piercing sound split the air. A sharp point of light shot through the snow curtain, tearing out and slamming straight into Yuwen Hu’s face.
Yuwen Hu’s pupils shrank. He hurriedly retracted the sword and retreated with his body.
But the light point’s speed was terrifying—not only fast, but long.
It turned into a blade of light.
Only then did Yuwen Hu see it clearly: a narrow one-point-seven-meter-long saber—the light point was its tip.
Seeing Yuwen Hu retreat so quickly, Xia Hong realized he couldn’t continue his forward stab, so in a flash he switched grip and slashed horizontally.
Shing…
Standing more than ten meters away, Yuwen Hu’s face filled with shock and fear.
A narrow two- to three-inch-long cut had opened on his forehead.
“This kid…”
Seeing Xia Hong’s bloodied left hand and the long saber in his right, Yuwen Hu’s shock at nearly dying surpassed his visible surprise.
“Youth…”
Xia Hong sheathed the long saber, took out a piece of cloth, and calmly treated the wound on his left hand while looking up at Yuwen Hu.
His question landed firmly and smoothly: “Do you think Great Xia is on equal footing with Mirror Immortal Camp now?”
Xia Chuan, Luo Yuan, and the others emerged from the trees to stand behind Xia Hong. With their Iron-Backed Bows ineffective, hope of killing Yuwen Hu faded.
Yuwen Hu stood frozen for over ten breaths, emotions shifting before he finally revealed a helpless expression and said in a low voice:
“Leader Xia Hong, your strength is indeed impressive, but Mirror Immortal Camp’s power is more than what you’ve just seen. Has Great Xia truly thought this through—do you really want to tear us apart until only death remains?”
Was he trying to negotiate assimilation?
Yuwen Hu’s attempt to leave room for compromise was clear and Xia Hong understood at once.
No chance Great Xia would ever merge into another camp, and given Mirror Immortal’s behavior, Xia Hong would never agree.
“Mirror Immortal’s strength is more than that? Do you think Great Xia has shown you everything we have?”
Xia Hong first asked mockingly, then switched tone, speaking fiercely: “We had no territorial dispute and could have maintained peace. But you overreached. Yuwen Tao and He Meng’s hunting parties crossed the border. I warned and tried to reason many times.
No one listened. They only grew more excessive—He Meng even came south to kill. That’s on you!
Now the ringleaders are dead; I won’t hold a grudge against Mirror Immortal Camp, but…”
Xia Hong paused and then added with gravitas:
“From now on, any more who cross our lines will be killed. Please convey this to your leader.”
Being spoken to so bluntly by someone almost the same age as his son first sparked anger on Yuwen Hu’s face, but then he seemed to reconsider and restrain himself, as if wanting to say more.
Xia Hong gave him no chance—he extended a hand, signaling him to leave.
“Senior Yuwen, please.”
At being addressed politely, Yuwen Hu’s stiff expression softened. He stood for a moment, then gave Xia Hong a long look and turned to leave.
“Leader Xia Hong, you’ve been courteous. I will carry your message.”