Chapter 255: A Crushing Defeat

Chapter 255: Chapter 255: A Crushing Defeat

Outside Jialing Pass, the autumn wind blew bleakly.

The two armies stood in confrontation, their banners fluttering wildly.

The Heaven Dou Empire’s army of 400,000 stood arrayed before the pass; their armor gleamed brightly, and their ranks were impeccably aligned, presenting a magnificent and imposing spectacle from a distance.

Opposite them stood the Spirit Hall’s army of 300,000—a dense, dark mass, silent as the abyss, save for the invisible killing intent that permeated the very air.

Fan Diye sat astride his warhorse, clad in gleaming silver armor accented with gold. Upon his head rested a "Phoenix Perch" crown, from which two slender plumes quivered gently in the breeze.

He sat upright in the saddle, his posture as straight and tall as a pine tree; upon his handsome face, there lingered an air of composure and noble dignity.

Behind him, 400,000 officers and soldiers stood poised and ready for battle.

"Yan!" Yue Guan called out.

From the rear of the Spirit Hall’s formation, a figure stepped forward.

The man possessed a burly physique and a resolute countenance; his short, fiery-red hair resembled burning flames. With long, rapid strides, he passed through the ranks of his army and emerged at the very front of the formation.

"Elder!"

Yan clasped his fists in salute, his voice ringing out loud and clear.

Yue Guan daintily extended a finger—forming a delicate "orchid-finger" gesture—in the direction of the Heaven Dou army; upon his effeminate face, there was a hint of nonchalance. "Little Yan, go and have a go at their commanding general!"

Yan’s eyes lit up, and the corners of his mouth curled into a grin. "Yes, Elder!"

He turned around and strode purposefully toward the open ground situated between the two armies.

Beneath his feet, seven Soul Rings slowly rose into existence.

Yellow, Yellow, Purple, Purple, Black, Black, Black!

A Seven-Ringed Soul Saint!

Yan came to a halt, planted his hands on his hips, and shouted toward the Heaven Dou army: "Where is your general? Does he dare to step out and engage me in a Soul Duel?!"

His voice boomed like a clap of thunder, reverberating across the battlefield.

The very next instant, scorching, dark-red flames suddenly erupted from Yan’s body! Simultaneously—empowered by the effects of his first two Soul Rings—his body began to swell and expand violently.

The clothes on his upper body instantly shredded and fell away, revealing bulging muscles as hard and rugged as granite. His stature surged upward, and in the blink of an eye, he expanded to a height of over three meters—resembling a towering fire giant!

Although the Flame Lord’s True Spirit Avatar had not yet fully manifested, the sheer intensity of its wild, scorching aura was already causing the surrounding air to ripple and distort.

Within the ranks of the Heaven Dou Army, Fan Dieye gazed across at the three-meter-plus fire giant standing opposite him, his eyebrows arching ever so slightly.

He had originally assumed that the Spirit Hall would dispatch a Titled Douluo to simply crush them.

To his surprise, they had sent only a Spirit Saint?

A sense of relief involuntarily washed over Fan Dieye.

So, it’s just a Spirit Saint after all. I thought the Spirit Hall’s Titled Douluo were going to make a move.

The corners of his mouth curled upward slightly, and a flicker of disdain flashed through his eyes.

It seems that after sweeping through half of the Heaven Dou Empire, the Spirit Hall has finally grown arrogant. To think they would send only a single Spirit Saint into battle!

Hmph—pride goes before a fall!

Fan Dieye mused inwardly. I can earn some major merit this time. Who knows—I might even be elevated to the rank of King through this very battle!

He spurred his steed forward, slowly riding out from the formation of the army.

Then, he unleashed his Spirit.

The Moon-Glow Butterfly.

A pair of exquisite butterfly wings unfurled behind his back; their surfaces shimmered with a flowing, iridescent radiance—a sight of breathtaking beauty.

With a gentle flutter of his wings, Fan Dieye lifted off the ground, soaring to a position approximately twenty-five meters away from Yan, where he hovered suspended in mid-air.

He looked down upon the fire giant from his lofty perch, his handsome features bearing an air of reserved arrogance.

Beneath his feet, seven Spirit Rings rose into view.

Yellow, Yellow, Purple, Purple, Black, Black, Black!

He, too, was a seven-ringed Spirit Saint!

Upon observing his opponent’s Spirit Ring configuration, Yan felt a twinge of surprise.

He had originally assumed that Yue Guan intended to put him through a trial—to pit him against a powerhouse of the Spirit Douluo rank.

Unexpectedly, his opponent turned out to be a Spirit Saint as well.

Although they both stood at the rank of Spirit Saint, Yan—bolstered by the inherent confidence derived from his Flame Lord Spirit—remained convinced that he could triumph over the "little butterfly" facing him.

Fan Dieye wasted no words.

He immediately channeled his Spirit Energy, and his fifth Spirit Ring flared to life! "Fifth Soul Skill: Streaming Light Dance Array!"

Streaks of flowing light descended from the heavens like falling stars, trailing brilliant tails of radiance as they hurtled toward Yan! Each streak of light was imbued with terrifying energy, slicing through the air with a piercing shriek!

Yan gave a cold snort and channeled his soul power.

"Fifth Soul Skill: Flying Sand and Raging Flames!"

A sky-spanning inferno surged forth from within his body! The flames were scorching and wild, transforming into a sea of ​​fire that rose to meet the descending streaks of light!

The searing heat melted every single streak of light, accompanied by a sizzling sound. The intensity of the fire did not diminish; instead, it continued to surge onward toward Fan Dieye!

Fan Dieye’s pupils constricted; he hurriedly flapped his butterfly wings, attempting to dodge.

But the sea of ​​fire approached too swiftly and too fiercely—he simply did not have enough time to evade it completely!

"Aargh—!"

Fan Dieye let out a pained shriek as the edge of the fiery wave grazed him; he plummeted from the sky, crashing heavily onto the ground below.

His gleaming silver-and-gold battle armor was now caked in dust, and his face bore several new smudges of soot.

Yan gazed down at Fan Dieye, who lay sprawled on the ground, feeling utterly bewildered.

That was merely his Fifth Soul Skill, wasn’t it? How could it inflict such severe damage upon a Soul Saint?

He had assumed that even if his opponent couldn’t block the attack, he would at least be able to dodge the majority of it.

He never expected him to take a direct hit.

Fan Dieye scrambled to his feet; ignoring his injuries for the moment, he first busied himself brushing the dust off his body.

Then, he lifted his head to glare at Yan, his fingers daintily curled in a delicate gesture, and shrieked in outrage: "You brat! How dare you soil my armor?!"

His voice was shrill, laced with a distinct note of exasperated fury.

Observing Fan Dieye’s mannerisms, and recalling the conversation he had previously overheard between Yue Guan and Mo Xiong, Yan experienced a sudden moment of realization.

This Marquis of Wu’an... turned out to be a...

He felt an urge to laugh, but reminding himself that this was a solemn battlefield, he forcibly suppressed his mirth.

Nevertheless, his shoulders gave an involuntary twitch or two. Seeing Yan’s shoulders shaking, Fan Diye assumed he was mocking him and grew even more furious.

"You brat! What are you laughing at?"

Yan stifled his laughter, pointed at his own face, and offered a helpful reminder: "Hey—your face is a mess!"

"What?!"

Fan Diye’s expression changed drastically. He hurriedly retrieved an exquisite little mirror from his Soul Tool storage device and held it up to his face.

Sure enough, his face was smeared with dust, and there was a shallow scratch left by a wave of fire.

Although it was a trivial injury, in Fan Diye’s eyes, it was nothing short of disfigurement!

He gasped sharply, his trembling fingers tracing the mark.

"My face... my face..."

He muttered to himself, his eyes filled with sheer terror.

Seeing his reaction, Yan assumed he was about to fly into a rage—that a fierce, all-out battle was about to ensue.

He clenched his fists tight, flames coalescing in his palms as he braced himself for the fight.

However...

Fan Diye suddenly flapped his butterfly wings, turned around, and flew back toward his army’s ranks.

He flew with incredible speed, as if something terrifying were chasing him.

As he flew, he shouted: "Sound the gongs! Retreat!"

His voice was shrill and frantic, tinged with a hint of hysteria.

The orderlies were utterly bewildered.

The two armies had barely finished their standoff, yet the commander-in-chief was suddenly ordering a retreat?

But military orders were absolute—unshakeable as a mountain.

Under Fan Diye’s furious glare, the orderlies had no choice but to hurriedly strike the bronze gongs signaling a retreat.

Clang—Clang—Clang—

The crisp yet panicked ringing of the gongs instantly reverberated throughout the ranks of the Heaven Dou army.

Of the Heaven Dou army’s 400,000 soldiers, 300,000 were raw recruits—many of whom had been forcibly conscripted. Their morale was already shaky; now, upon suddenly hearing the order to retreat, the army instantly plunged into chaos.

Countless soldiers exchanged bewildered glances, having no idea what had happened.

They simply assumed a crushing defeat had occurred on the front lines, and panic—like a plague—instantly swept through the entire army.

Immediately, soldiers began casting aside their helmets and armor, turning to flee back inside the pass while shouting: "We’re defeated! The powerhouses from the Spirit Hall have arrived!"

"Run! The Heaven Dou Army has fallen!"

Once the chaos erupted, it spiraled completely out of control.

The Heaven Dou Empire’s army of 400,000 men disintegrated in an instant!

Panic spread like wildfire; every rustling leaf and swaying blade of grass seemed to hide an enemy soldier.

The soldiers trampled one another in their haste to escape; the squads of Spirit Masters assigned to maintain discipline were utterly powerless to contain the stampeding, routed army.

The once-orderly battle formations dissolved completely, becoming nothing more than a scattered, disorganized mob.

The air was filled with a cacophony of weeping, the sounds of fleeing footsteps, and the clatter of weapons hitting the ground; there was not a shred of resistance left to be found.

Upon seeing this, the Demon Bear Douluo’s eyes flashed with cold light as he issued a stern command: "All units, attack! Flatten Jialing Pass!"

The Spirit Hall’s army had long been poised and ready to strike.

The Spirit Master Legion took the lead, unleashing a barrage of Spirit Skills—offense, control, and support abilities fired in unison—leaving the fleeing Heaven Dou soldiers utterly helpless to fight back.

The cavalry seized the opportunity to charge, cutting down the routed enemy forces as they advanced.

Blades flashed and swords clashed, leaving rivers of blood in their wake.

Fan Diyie had long since abandoned all concern for his army; dragging his personal retinue along, he fled the pass in a blind panic, desperate to escape the crossfire of the battle.

His Phoenix Plume Crown sat askew, one of its feathers snapped off; his gleaming silver-and-gold battle armor was caked in dust and bloodstains, leaving him looking utterly wretched.

But he paid no heed to such things.

His only thought was to escape.

To flee as far away as possible.

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