Chapter 594: Attacking the Baihu Stronghold

Within a few hours, the cultivators from all five battalions were summoned, and the entire Southern Legion set out. The lower-ranked soldiers moved on foot, while the commanders used their flying artifacts, staying around a hundred feet above their respective battalions.

The General’s grand chariot was at the highest level. It was as large as the pavilion in which Maximilian stayed. Plated in gold, its intricate surface shimmered under the sunlight.

Nonetheless, Maximilian was more unimpressed by the chariot than anything else. It seemed to focus more on comfort than the combat armament it could have had. It was as if the general was putting on a show.

"Your flying artifact is quite unique, Commander Arthur," Lin Feng said, reaching beside Maximilian on his regular-sized chariot. The other commanders also had similar chariots.

"Oh, I found this in an abandoned cave left by some dead cultivator," Maximilian replied, glancing at his sword. "There was a pair, so I gave one to my cousin."

Maximilian was flying on his sword, with Wukong beside him on a similar sword. Their flying swords naturally seemed like artifacts of poor quality to Lin Feng. They were small, uncomfortable, and appeared to be highly dangerous. Lose your balance slightly, and you would fall right off.

However, Lin Feng couldn’t help but notice the flawless edge of the blade and the obsidian-like black material with which it was forged, something he had never seen before. Moreover, the sword seemed to be balancing Maximilian’s body on it, and it even had a transparent barrier around it that blocked the strong wind.

’I have never seen a sword that could be used for flying. It doesn’t seem like flying is its only purpose. How could a rogue cultivator like him get his hands on such a priceless treasure?’ Lin Feng muttered inwardly.

He removed his gaze from the sword and asked Maximilian in a respectful tone,

"Will you not be uncomfortable on it? You may get in my chariot if you like. There is enough space for the three of us."

"I appreciate your concern, Commander Lin," Maximilian replied, keeping his tone polite. "But I don’t want to impose on you. Besides, I need to keep an eye on my army."

"In that case, how about I give you a chariot?" Lin Feng offered. "I have an extra. You can exchange it for your flying artifact. However..."

He took a brief pause, barely containing his greed behind his calm expression. "Since I’m the one taking a loss in this deal, you need to give me both swords in exchange."

"Hahaha," Maximilian couldn’t help but laugh. He shook his head and replied, "I won’t dare force you to take a losing deal. I can manage on the sword."

Before Lin Feng could even respond, he flew forward, reaching closer to his battalion.

"Haha, human greed knows no bounds," Wukong scoffed, rolling his eyes before following Maximilian.

"Th-this rogue cultivator dares..." Lin Feng muttered, his fist tightening. "Forfeiting the alcohol just to drink poison."

---

"Hah... brother Max, that human was utterly shameless," Wukong said, reaching beside Maximilian. "Offering a measly chariot in exchange for your divine-grade artifact."

"Ignore him," Maximilian replied, his golden eyes fixed ahead. "We have reached."

Before them appeared a colossal stronghold built on the walls of towering hills, connecting them all together. At the center, a head of a roaring tiger with jagged teeth was built, whose sight alone felt intimidating.

With his Divine Sense, Maximilian could see thousands of demi-beasts stationed on the walls of the stronghold. Their number was about half that of the Southern Legion. However, when Maximilian spread his Divine Sense further, he realized there were three more towering walls covering the deeper areas of the stronghold, each one stronger than the outermost wall.

The inner areas also contained more beasts stationed along the walls. Their total number was only a few thousand less than that of the human army.

"Whoa!!! Their fortress is even more incredible than that of the humans," Wukong gasped, his lips parted in bewilderment.

"Hah... this is not going to be an easy battle for the humans," Maximilian sighed, shaking his head. "Their number and strength match ours, but they have a huge advantage in terms of territory."

His eyes shifted to the top of the gigantic tiger head statue, where two familiar figures stood. Vyaghra and Vyomendra.

"Vyomendra is at the Early Stage of the Sacred Beast Realm. In his base form, he should be as powerful as a Demi-God. However, if he were to transform into his beast form, he could even rival a Demi-God at the Middle Stage."

"Who the heck is Vyomendra?" Wukong asked, hearing the name for the first time.

"A friend of mine."

"Are you going to fight your friend, brother?" Wukong demanded, looking back and forth between the tiger statue and Maximilian.

"No, his battle is not with me," Maximilian replied, shaking his head. "I will not interfere in their clash."

From the tiger’s head, Vyomendra stepped forward, walking in the air, each of his steps measured, his piercing gaze fixed on the chariot a couple of kilometres ahead at the same height.

"You dare bring your army to the doors of the Tiger Clan?" Vyomendra demanded, his voice, laced in Soulforce, reverberating through the area. A deep growling sound of an apex predator was mixed into his voice, sending shivers through the human army stationed on the ground. "Are you tired of living, old man?"

"Hahahaha," a loud laugh came from the grand chariot of the General. Wukong’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, realizing it wasn’t the voice of the General. "Is this you... or your fear speaking, Vyomendra?"

The other commanders lost the color in their faces, their eyes widening like saucers in both shock and fear upon hearing this old voice.

"Hah... so he finally decided to show himself, Ruler of the Unorthodox Path, Bai Chengsheng," Maximilian murmured, his lips curling into a faint smile.

"We greet the War Marshal Bai," the human army greeted in unison, everyone, including the commanders, bending in a deep bow.

From within the grand chariot, two old men emerged. One of them was draped in heavy golden armor. His long grey hair swayed with the wind while his sharp blue eyes were fixed on Vyomendra. In his hand, he held a long spear, twice his height.

He was Mo Feng, General of the Southern Legion.

The other old man beside him wore a black robe with wide sleeves. His fingers slowly moved through his long white beard, his emerald eyes scanning the stronghold with cold intensity. He was Bai Chengsheng, a Middle Stage Demi-God and one of the three War Marshals.

For a moment, his gaze stopped at Maximilian and Wukong, the only ones in the whole human army who still had their heads held high.

He didn’t let any emotion flicker across his face and turned his gaze back to Vyomendra.

"With me here, you are no match for the Southern Legion, Vyomendra," Bai Chengsheng declared, as if stating a matter of fact. "Surrender the Baihu Stronghold, and I shall let the Tiger Clan live."

"Make us surrender if you have the capability," Vyomendra declared, drawing two obsidian-like daggers from his storage pouch.

The moment he took his weapons out, all the commanders appeared beside Bai Chengsheng from both sides, drawing their own weapons.

"Shouldn’t you also go there?" Wukong suggested to Maximilian, who still hadn’t moved.

"Why bother? I received no such order," Maximilian casually shrugged off.

In response to the arrival of the commanders beside the War Marshal and General, six beasts at the Early and Middle Stages of the Greater Spirit Beast Realm emerged from the stronghold, reaching Vyomendra’s side.

"Since you are so eager to offer your lives, who am I to deny you?" Bai Chengsheng chuckled, shaking his head. "General Mo, let’s get this over with."

Bai Chengsheng and Mo Feng launched their attacks at Vyomendra. Meanwhile, the four commanders clashed against the six Greater Spirit Beasts from the Tiger Clan.

"Everyone, attack the stronghold!" Mo Feng’s voice echoed through the battlefield. The human army roared in response, bolting toward the towering walls of the stronghold.

Firing balls, beams of concentrated energy, and attacks laced in Soulforce launched from the high walls of the stronghold as the two sides clashed in an ear-deafening battle.

Some of the cultivators fell even before they could release an attack, while the others kept fighting, stepping over them. In just a few minutes, the battlefield was filled with both the cries of the fallen and the roars of the fighters.

Even in the face of such a cruel sight, both Maximilian and Wukong seemed completely calm. As a death demon, Wukong had spent centuries in the Riftlands, where the rule was kill or be killed. He had seen more deaths than anyone else.

As for Maximilian, he was the Dragon of Death. The deaths of a few hundred cultivators barely had any effect on him. However, it didn’t mean he was completely immune to their suffering.

"This meaningless war should end," he muttered, his eyes narrowing. "And Gumiho is the only one who can do it."