Chapter 254: Demon Bear—Yue Guan, He Is a Worthy Match for You!

Chapter 254: Chapter 254: Demon Bear—Yue Guan, He Is a Worthy Match for You!

When Fan Dieye entered the palace to seek an audience with Emperor Xue Ye, the entire court—comprising both civil officials and military officers—felt their eyes light up in admiration.

His bearing was elegant and refined, his countenance of unparalleled beauty; his speech and manner were composed and gentle, naturally radiating an aura of supreme nobility.

Gazing upon him, Emperor Xue Ye felt as though he had grasped at a final, desperate lifeline; overcome with emotion, he rose abruptly from his throne. "Minister Fan! The safety and security of the Heaven Dou Empire rest entirely upon your shoulders!"

Within the great hall, the civil and military officials bowed in unison, offering their acclamations and singing his praises: "The Marquis of Wu’an possesses unparalleled bearing; he is truly a pillar of strength for our Heaven Dou Empire!"

"The Marquis is young yet accomplished; he is bound to deal a crushing blow to the Spirit Hall!"

Over the two months that followed, acting upon the Imperial Edict, Fan Dieye conscripted able-bodied men from regions such as the Diyang and Xueling Provinces to expand the army and prepare for war.

In his command of the troops, he demanded only that the new recruits’ uniforms and armor be standardized, their formations perfectly aligned, and their standing postures aesthetically pleasing; as for actual cultivation, combat drills, or battlefield experience—he treated all such matters with utter perfunctoriness.

After more than two months, he had barely managed to cobble together a force of 300,000 new recruits. Combined with his veteran contingent—the 100,000-strong Xueling Legion—he commanded a grand army totaling 400,000 men.

Yet, during these two months, the geopolitical landscape of the continent had utterly collapsed.

Seizing the opportunity, the Spirit Hall had swiftly devoured the Kingdom of Silves and subsequently captured the Fasinuo Province.

Meanwhile, the Star Luo Empire had taken advantage of the chaos to plunder territory, forcibly occupying half of the Kingdom of Gulei and annexing the entirety of the Tienshuang Duchy.

Nearly half of the Heaven Dou Empire’s sovereign territory had been lost.

Emperor Xue Ye paced his palace in a frenzy of anxiety; while he bitterly denounced the rampant aggression of foreign enemies, he remained utterly helpless—able only to dispatch envoys time and again to urge Fan Dieye to hasten his army’s deployment to the battlefield.

This continued until the Spirit Hall had fully consolidated its control over the occupied territories and its massive army stood poised at the border, bearing down directly upon Jialing Pass—the Heaven Dou Empire’s final, vital strategic chokehold—which now hung precariously in the balance.

Only then—spurred on by a ceaseless stream of Imperial Edicts—did Fan Dieye reluctantly adjust his attire, repeatedly straightening the two iconic plumes atop his head, before finally leading his army of 400,000 men in a slow march toward the Jialing Pass front lines.

Situated at the very heart of the Tianling Mountain Range, Jialing Pass was a site of paramount strategic importance—a place that military strategists considered absolutely essential to control, possessing a natural defensive advantage so formidable that it was said: "With one man guarding the pass, ten thousand cannot breach it."

The terrain surrounding Jialing Pass was rugged and treacherous; the fortress itself was built directly into the mountainside, boasting walls a hundred meters high and a hundred meters thick—making it virtually impregnable to any conventional army.

However, the army of the Spirit Hall was anything but conventional.

For standing at its core were four Title Douluo!

They needed only to wait for the four Elders to strike down the enemy’s high-ranking commanders; then, they could breach the pass with effortless ease!

From the Duchy of Barak to the Duchy of Silves, and finally to the Duchy of Fasinuo—the Spirit Hall forces had consistently employed this very strategy.

Fan Dieye’s army arrived at Jialing Pass on a gloomy morning.

Low-hanging clouds pressed down from the horizon, weighing so heavily that they seemed on the verge of crashing to earth.

A biting north wind howled, whipping up a swirling storm of withered leaves and dust that stung painfully against the skin.

A massive army of four hundred thousand troops wound its way down the official road from the north in a magnificent, sweeping procession.

At the vanguard of the column, Fan Dieye sat upright upon a high-grade Soul Beast warhorse—a creature of pure, snowy white. Clad in a suit of gleaming silver armor accented with gilded trim, he radiated a dazzling brilliance that cut through the overcast gloom.

Behind him stretched the four-hundred-thousand-strong army.

Their uniforms and armor were immaculate, their ranks aligned with flawless precision, moving as a single, unified entity. Their armor gleamed with a mirror-like polish; their long spears rose like a forest, and their battle standards waved like a surging sea. Viewed from a distance, the sight was one of imposing majesty and overwhelming power.

The garrison at Jialing Pass had long since lined up at the city gates to receive them.

The commanding general of the pass—a veteran in his fifties whose face bore the weathered marks of countless campaigns—caught sight of Fan Dieye’s resplendent appearance; a flicker of complex emotion crossed his eyes.

Yet, he spoke not a word; instead, he simply clasped his fists in salute: "Your humble subordinate pays his respects to the Marquis of Wu’an! You have endured a arduous journey, my Lord Marquis!"

Fan Dieye gave a slight nod, then raised a hand to gently adjust the decorative plumes atop his helmet.

Only after confirming they sat perfectly straight did he speak, his voice measured and unhurried: "The hardship was yours. What is the situation within the pass?"

The veteran general replied in a deep, steady voice: "Reporting to the Marquis: the Spirit Hall army has established its encampment 15 Kilometers outside the pass. For several days now, there has been no sign of hostile movement. Your humble subordinate has ordered increased patrols and remains on high alert, fully prepared for battle."

Fan Dieye nodded, his gaze sweeping past the city walls to fix upon the distant horizon, where the enemy’s sprawling, dark encampment loomed.

A fleeting expression of grave solemnity—subtle enough to go almost unnoticed—flashed within his eyes.

Yet, just as quickly, that solemnity was masked once more by his customary air of composure. "Enter the Pass."

...

Inside Jialing Pass, within the Commander’s Tent.

Fan Dieye sat in the seat of honor, a massive map spread out before him.

His fingers traced lightly across the map—from the location of the Spirit Hall’s encampment to the terrain of Jialing Pass, and then to the surrounding mountains and rivers—scrutinizing every detail.

Below him, a host of generals sat arranged on either side.

The veteran general was the first to speak: "Marquis, Spirit Hall has four Titled Douluo anchoring their forces. Although our army is vast in number, the disparity in top-tier combat power is immense."

"This subordinate believes we should hold the Pass and defend to the death—conserving our strength while waiting for the enemy to tire. The terrain at Jialing Pass is treacherous, and its walls are sturdy; as long as our army remains entrenched within and does not sally forth, even with their Titled Douluo, Spirit Hall will find it difficult to breach the Pass easily."

"Spirit Hall’s army consists mostly of newly conscripted captives, and their combat effectiveness is limited. If we simply drag this out, their grain and supply lines will inevitably face issues. At that point, should we seize the opportunity to launch a counterattack, victory would not be out of our reach."

Several other generals nodded in agreement.

Fan Dieye remained silent.

He kept his head lowered, gazing at the map, his fingers tapping lightly against the tabletop.

Tap... tap... tap...

The crisp, rhythmic sound echoed through the quiet commander’s tent.

After a long while...

He finally raised his head, his gaze sweeping across the assembled officers.

Upon that face—so handsome it bordered on the bewitching—he still wore that same habitual, composed smile.

"Hold the Pass and defend to the death?"

His voice was soft, carrying a hint of aristocratic refinement and a touch of nonchalance: "Did this Marquis lead an army of four hundred thousand southwards just to cower inside the city like a turtle in its shell?"

Han Zhong’s expression shifted slightly: "Marquis, that is not what this subordinate meant..."

Fan Dieye raised a hand, cutting him off. His voice remained unhurried and measured: "I have descended south by Imperial Decree, charged with the supreme command of our forces against the enemy. If I dare not even step beyond the city gates, how can I prove worthy of His Majesty’s trust? How can I live up to the expectations of the people throughout the realm?"

He turned around, his gaze sweeping over the assembled crowd, and spoke in a cool, detached tone: "Issue the order: at dawn tomorrow, the entire army shall march out of the pass and form ranks. I intend to personally meet—and face—the Titled Douluo of the Spirit Hall."

Inside the command tent, a deathly silence fell.

Han Zhong parted his lips, intending to speak, yet found himself utterly unable to utter a word.

He gazed at Fan Dieye’s handsome face, a profound sense of helplessness rising within his heart.

This Marquis...

Did he truly not comprehend the sheer terror of a Titled Douluo? Or was he simply...

Overconfident?

He offered no further counsel.

For he knew, deep down, that no amount of persuasion would sway him.

The following dawn.

As the sky began to grow faintly bright, the massive gates of Jialing Pass swung open with a resounding boom.

An army of four hundred thousand soldiers streamed out in an orderly procession.

Their armor gleamed, and their ranks were impeccably aligned.

Their metal plates flashed with a blinding brilliance in the morning light; their long spears stood thick as a forest, and their battle banners waved like a surging sea. Viewed from a distance, the sight was majestic and imposing, radiating an overwhelming aura of power.

The vast army formed its battle array outside the pass—a dense, black mass stretching as far as the eye could see.

Behind him, the four hundred thousand officers and soldiers raised their voices in a unified roar:

"The Heaven Dou Empire shall triumph!"

"The Heaven Dou Empire shall triumph!"

The thunderous wave of sound shook the very earth and pierced the heavens.

...

At the Spirit Hall encampment.

The Demon Bear Douluo stood before the camp gates, gazing out at the dense, dark military formation in the distance; a flicker of surprise flashed within his eyes.

"Well, well—so they actually dared to come out?"

Then, his gaze fell upon Fan Dieye, positioned at the very center of the army’s formation.

He turned his head to look at Yue Guan, who stood beside him.

"Yue Guan, it looks to me like that kid is quite the match for you! Hahahaha!"

Yue Guan, too, had spotted Fan Dieye—specifically the peculiar cockroach... or rather, the feather plume—adorned atop his head, which caused the corner of his mouth to twitch ever so slightly.

Hearing the Demon Bear’s teasing remark, Yue Guan gave a cold snort and retorted: "What kind of insignificant trash dares to even compare himself to me?!"

"Do you believe that if we send Yan out to fight, he could make them retreat with just a single sentence?"

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