With the Blade-Chapter 48 - 45: Night of Slaughter

The Jizhen City has fallen, and for three days, the blades shall not be sheathed.

Though it is said to be three days, in reality, it was not even one full day before the entire Jizhen turned into a living hell. The sound of weapons cutting through flesh and the screams of the dying mixed in the air, while bloodthirsty warriors with blood-red eyes roamed the streets, searching for any possible survivors.

Blood flowed across the ground, forming small streams.

There were those who questioned He Xiqing’s orders, even Muer Shu, who followed He Xiqing, had advised against it. After all, war is ultimately about resources, and keeping those alive as slaves would be more beneficial than slaughtering them all.

"Moreover, the chiefs of the Qingyang Tribe would have objections."

This was the most important reason. The Qingyang Tribe joined the southern expedition not to waste the lives of their warriors in vain. Gold, silver, jewels, fertile lands, and even these southern slaves were the main reasons the Qingyang Tribe was willing to go to war.

No one wants to fight a losing battle, and no one wants to become poorer with each battle.

Yet, with a single command from He Xiqing, those southerners who were to be taken as spoils of war had to be exterminated.

"Is there a problem with this?"

He Xiqing, with eyes as crimson as a demon, remained calm.

"Or do you think that after we kill all these people, the Qingyang Tribe would still dare demand benefits from us?"

Muer Shu couldn’t respond.

Looking into those eyes that burned like ghostly fire, Muer Shu suddenly realized that this man, as vast as the clear sky before him, never intended to submit to the Qingyang Tribe from the start.

The Qingyang Tribe was merely a stepping stone, and this man named He Xiqing would never be subservient.

There were once warriors who secretly gossiped, claiming this hybrid born of the northern deserts and the southerners was unfit for high rank, saying his blood carried the desert’s foolishness and the south’s cowardice.

But at this moment, Muer Shu clearly sensed that the man named He Xiqing had the savagery of the desert and the cunning of the southerners flowing in his veins.

Fierce as a tiger, cunning as a fox — this was He Xiqing’s way of warfare. At a moment when none expected it, this man named He Xiqing, by simply leading his own forces, took down the Jizhou Governor’s Office, almost equal in size to the Qingyang Tribe.

Then, after the warriors under his command underwent another baptism of blood, becoming ever more inhuman, could the mere Qingyang Tribe truly stand against him?

"Hard to say, don’t get too complacent."

Just as Muer Shu felt proud of the commander he followed, the man named He Xiqing shook his head.

"The reason this surprise attack succeeded is simply that the enemy was unprepared, and when the entire Jizhou let down their guard, even when the Qingyang Tribe didn’t respond, I brought the troops over and shattered the city in a single blow... If the Jizhou Governor’s Office had been prepared, or if Liu Yanran had not mysteriously declined in state, this battle could not have ended so quickly."

"This just proves that Big Brother has a manifest destiny."

This was no jest; Muer Shu truly believed it. After all, being assigned by the Southern Chen Court to the frontier to counter the northern Qingyang Tribe, Liu Yanran, that southerner, surely held significant power—yet he was slain by He Xiqing with a single stroke.

Indeed, one might attribute it to Liu Yanran’s fatigue and declining state, but a kill is a kill.

If this isn’t destiny, then what is?

"Don’t believe in things like destiny. Those are lies concocted by wizards to deceive people."

He Xiqing spoke, gripping the hilt of the sword at his waist.

"We are warriors, Muer Shu. We need not believe in destiny; we only need to believe in ourselves, and in the swords in our hands."

"...Big Brother!"

Muer Shu, overwhelmed with emotion, knelt on one knee, allowing He Xiqing to rest his unsheathed sword on his shoulder.

This was the most sincere form of allegiance, with the sword on the shoulder only requiring a slight swing to decapitate Muer Shu—but Muer Shu didn’t care, even if He Xiqing demanded his life at this moment, he would comply without hesitation.

Yet, the sacred ceremony of allegiance had just begun when suddenly it was interrupted by a soldier bursting in.

"Big Brother! Something’s wrong!"

A warrior of the grasslands, his eyes wild, rushed into the tent in panic.

"Some southerners are killing our warriors! Fifteen of them have already been slain!"

"...So you just ran back here?"

He Xiqing frowned.

"Are they not just some martial artists or heroes from Jizhou? Why not kill them?"

"Yes, why didn’t you just kill them?"

Muer Shu also stood, his expression grave.

The martial virtue of Jizhou’s folk was well-known, even on the grasslands. However, to these commanders of the grasslands, these local martial artists seemed more like a second line of defense deliberately left by the Jizhou Governor’s Office.

Ordinarily, these martial artists could combat thieves and protect the territory, but in crucial times like the present, with the fall of Jizhen City, they would become an underground armed force, ready to strike at the grassland warriors whenever possible.

But the problem was right there.

If it were simply the Qingyang Tribe’s people, running back to report after encountering resistance would make sense. However, as soldiers under He Xiqing’s command, nurtured through blood and fury as the northern desert eagles, how dare they run back like this?

"Are you a coward?"

As he spoke, Muer Shu’s large hand was already seizing the throat of the grassland warrior.

"Did you desert?"

"No, I did not..."

Suspended in the air, the grassland warrior gasped for breath.

"I didn’t desert; it’s that person, that person, he has A Xuan’s axe..."

"Hmm?"

The grassland warrior fell to the ground, and Muer Shu was taken aback.

"You say... A Xuan?"

Muer Shu could not help but turn to He Xiqing.

The one who killed He Xixuan actually dared to come here?

At this moment, however, He Xiqing smiled.

"If it’s A Xuan’s axe, then it’s normal you couldn’t defeat him. After all, that axe has killed too many people, and what you’re dealing with can’t be measured by common sense."

Even though he spoke calmly, He Xiqing’s eyes, unbeknownst to anyone, had turned blood-red.

"So returning was the right choice; indeed, I’m the only one who can handle this."

Sheathing his sword, He Xiqing strode out of the tent.

His presence filled with Evil Qi, he appeared like a ghoul climbing out from the Nine Nether Hell.

"Muer Shu, prepare my horse... And that person, the one with A Xuan’s axe, where is he now?"

"To the north of the town! At the camp’s outskirts!"

The grassland warrior pointed with his hand.

"That monster just fought his way in!"

As soon as he finished speaking, He Xiqing already heard the sounds of battle cries in the distance.

And the towering flames.