Chapter 634: Retreat

Shen Hao was dumbfounded. He had imagined many scenes and outcomes of Profound Sea Realm cultivators clashing, but he never expected it would look like this.

No terrifying tides of True Qi or apocalyptic aftershocks—only an ordinary exchange of sword and saber, after which one person simply fell dead.

If Shen Hao didn’t know both were Profound Sea Realm cultivators, he wouldn’t even bother to glance at such a battle.

A Profound Sea Realm just died like that?!

“Who was that?” Shen Hao instinctively asked the Guard beside him.

“If our guesses are right, that was Xuan Tianqing, the Fifth Elder of the Mountain of Ten Thousand Books.”

“What cultivation?”

“Not sure. Rumor has it Xuan Tianqing has already broken into the Post-Profound Sea Realm.”

Shen Hao was stunned…

With just First or Second Layer of the Profound Sea Realm, you could swagger through the Jingjiu Dynasty and become someone admired by tens of thousands. Post-Profound Sea Realm…this…no wonder the Mountain of Ten Thousand Books is called a Super Sect—there’s a reason for it.

But the cultivator side seems to have stabilized the situation—what about the military camp? Can’t let that expert go around slaughtering ordinary Barbarian Race soldiers, right?

Shen Hao came back to his senses and suddenly noticed the intensity of attacks and defenses atop the camp walls had dropped dramatically. The Barbarian Race that had been ceaselessly climbing up was now nowhere to be seen, even after dozens of breaths.

Could it be that the death of a Profound Sea Realm cultivator hit the Barbarians’ morale so hard? Or are they worried about an expert piercing straight through their main formation?

Shen Hao gripped his large shield, wrapped himself in a thick layer of True Qi Shield, walked to the edge of the camp wall and looked down—astonished to see the Barbarian Race retreating in waves, like a tide pulling back.

“The Barbarian Race is retreating! They’re really retreating!”

Not only Shen Hao noticed the changes below the camp wall; plenty of sharp and daring men noticed too. Loud shouts erupted, a hint of victory in their voices—but most directly: for now, nobody here’s dying.

Once that collective breath was released, quite a few people couldn’t hold themselves together, collapsing to the ground. Their expressions a mix of relief and sorrow, some younger ones outright burst into tears. Men don’t cry, but even in this military where swallowing blood is the norm, nobody mocked those who wept.

The terror between life and death—crying to vent it may actually be a good thing.

Though still puzzled, Shen Hao let out a breath. At least, for now, this Upper Military Camp was held. Judging by the sky, it looked just about noon—maybe some arrangement by Cheng Jinhou had worked?

“Dong dong dong…”

The nerves just relaxed were snapped taut again by sudden thunderous drums. Shen Hao hurried to look down the camp wall; the Barbarians were still retreating, showing no signs of renewed attack—so why the drum?

The Decurions and Captains atop the camp wall got the message and immediately perked up.

“Anyone who can still fight, who can ride and slash heads, go to the camp’s stables, get your horses—ride out with the army!”

Cavalry are useless in an assault or defense of the camp—they must fight dismounted as infantry. Horses are always kept in the camp stables. And there weren’t many cavalry to begin with; after two consecutive battles, even less now. So to organize a pursuing force, they just chose anyone who could ride and kill.

Shen Hao didn’t even think—he turned and went down the camp wall.

“Shen Hao, where are you going?”

“Getting a horse. Didn’t they say we’re pursuing the enemy? How could I be left out?” Shen Hao wiped away some dried blood from his face, grinned fiercely. His appearance made him look ruthless; even his three Guards felt uneasy inside.

Barely holding the doors earlier against the onslaught—and now they want to flee when they please? Shen Hao’s chest boiled with murderous intent; he had to chase after them, let those Barbarians feel the bite of his blade.

A thick aura of killing and evil was surging off him; though the three Guards’ cultivation far surpassed Shen Hao’s, they still felt awkward inside—eventually attributing this ferocious energy to “innate temperament.”

As for worry—Shen Hao had it before, but now not at all. Cheng Jinhou used “noon” as the timeline to precisely split the battle into two halves. That Mountain of Ten Thousand Books Elder named Xuan Tianqing was a hidden ace all along; even the last time Cheng Jinhou hurt his arm, it was definitely an act.

Now that the time came, the Barbarians’ retreat wasn’t just “can’t afford to die”—so many killed, the camp nearly breached and yet they chose to withdraw. There had to be a matter of life and death, forcing them to abandon a battle already ninety percent won.

That’s why Cheng Jinhou could confidently beat the drums to pursue the enemy.

Shen Hao soon saw his scattered Personal Guards below the camp wall. Earlier over thirty—now less than twenty remained.

At the stables, the horses were the same that Shen Hao’s group had brought over, now merged into a mixed cavalry squad. No detailed orders—just “pursue the enemy,” with a twenty mile limit.

It felt pretty unrestricted.

The camp gate’s array was lifted and swung open. Just over three hundred cavalry thundered out, their momentum lacking, then spread out in a line and charged after the retreating Barbarians ahead.

This few—will it help?

Shen Hao controlled his horse’s speed; he didn’t need to compete for merit. He had already earned enough so far. He was curious, but where was Cheng Jinhou’s confidence?

Soon enough, Shen Hao saw Cheng Jinhou’s confidence.

Far off to the east, an overwhelming mass of troops appeared on the horizon. And there was another mass closing from the south.

Reinforcements really arrived?

Shen Hao instructed his Personal Guards not to charge blindly, keeping a steady pace in the middle-rear of the line. The eastern army was still some distance away; if they pressed too hard and the Barbarians made a desperate counterattack, it’d be a bad joke—best to observe first.

Change happened quicker than Shen Hao expected. The main Barbarian force retreating west suddenly became agitated, their formation visibly disordered. Some on the fringes even began shifting northward.

This…were there signs of a rout?

Was there a Jingjiu Dynasty army approaching from the west, too?

Even as clever as he was, Shen Hao—just another rank-and-file—could not grasp all the changes across the battlefield. He had no idea what sacrifice the Border Army made for this stratagem, nor understood that today’s brutal assault and defense was the great opportunity Cheng Jinhou had waited for over a month.

The ruins of the lookout tower in the camp were already being cleared. Cheng Jinhou and Xuan Tianqing had returned to the main tent.

“Will Elders Wu Yuan and Yuan Qingyun be alright?” Cheng Jinhou remained as calm as ever, though now the sharpness in his eyes had faded, replaced by concern for Wu Yuan and Yuan Qingyun—two Profound Sea Realm experts not yet returned.

“No need to worry about them. The Barbarians’ attacking forces don’t have anyone who can kill both together. If they haven’t returned yet, likely it’s because they gained some advantage and don’t want to leave.” Xuan Tianqing sat in his chair, eyes closed in meditation—completely different from when he masqueraded as an Order Flag Officer, exuding a sharpness no ordinary person possessed. Now, he had no need to hide it anymore.