A Pawn's Passage
Chapter 742: Winter Thunderstorm

Chapter 742: Winter Thunderstorm

Bursts of thunder resounded above Wuxing Mountain.

Winter thunderstorms were rare. Among the common folk, it was seen as an ominous sign.

For the Black Robes stationed on the outskirts of Wuxing Mountain, this was an ill omen.

They were already resentful for being stuck guarding Wuxing Mountain instead of going home for the New Year. Now that they saw this bad sign, their hearts became restless.

There was no helping it. Compared to the Black Robes on the frontier, the fighting spirit of the Divine Central Guards was like that of pampered flowerbed Daoists, clearly inferior. Yet thanks to their superior equipment—firearms, armor, and horses—as well as their number of high-ranking officers, the Divine Central Guard’s reputation still held strong.

Xing Nian was on duty that night, carrying a long rifle on his back and a saber at his waist while riding his horse on patrol. The north was already cold, and nighttime was even worse. Water froze into ice in a few seconds. The night wind was not merely chilly but bone-piercing. Even wrapped in a heavy cloak, sitting on horseback for long made the body stiff. One could only rely on cultivation to endure such freezing temperatures.

Beside Xing Nian was an older soldier, not quite a battle-hardened veteran, just someone with no connections and poor cultivation who failed the yearly assessments. Thus, he had always remained a regular soldier, never promoted, and always assigned the dirty, tiring work.

Luckily, the Divine Central Guards’ pay was good. Even an ordinary guard like him could get 6 Taiping coins a month, plus housing and winter gear. For many Black Robes, they would not go cold or hungry as long as they did not marry or have a family. Life was fairly carefree.

Of course, once they married and had a wife and kids, it was another story. They would no longer be carefree. Instead, they would have endless worries and complaints. There was a common saying that poor couples had a hundred sorrows. If they could not get promoted, they would have to endure their superiors’ temper in camp and their wives’ nagging at home for being incompetent. This was a common affliction among some women. They seemed to believe every misfortune in life could be traced back to one root cause—marrying the wrong man.

Well, part of it was true to some extent. If they were to marry the emperor, they could become a consort. Then they would no longer have such common sorrows as being well fed or clothed. Unfortunately, they were not worthy enough to be a consort. It was highly unlikely for the emperor or the nobility to marry a commoner’s daughter.

It was always about matching status. Even if one could not match up in family background, one would have to have the ability to make up for it. For example, if Qi Xuansu were still just a Kunlun-stage Heavenly Being at the seventh rank, he could not match up to the steadily rising Zhang Yuelu. Their lives would intersect less and less, and their growing distance would be inevitable, regardless of their intentions, unless Zhang Yuelu simply wanted to keep him around for amusement.

But Qi Xuansu had caught up to Zhang Yuelu’s pace. Though he was always a step behind, their statuses were roughly equal. As their interactions grew, so did the depth of their feelings.

This was a realistic issue. Changing one’s fate by marrying well was not impossible, but it was as hard as becoming a top-ranking scholar.

So many young people had come to terms with it. They had stopped wishing about marriage or carrying on the family line. Poverty lasted no more than three generations anyway, so it was better to enjoy life while they could and just let it be.

Xing Nian was one of these young men. He teased his old comrade beside him. “Old Liu, you’re already this old and still don’t have a wife or kids. What will you do when you’re too weak to work or even get out of bed? Just wait to die? I’m afraid your body will rot one day, and no one will even notice.”

Old Liu snorted. “Aren’t you the same?”

Xing Nian gave a bitter laugh. “Since ancient times, there’s only been one reason a man can’t get a wife—he’s poor. Anything else is just an excuse. You might say I’m not good-looking, but not all women are exactly goddesses themselves. Those normal-looking ones still won’t glance my way. Why, you ask? Because I’m poor.”

Old Liu chuckled. “Since you know you’re poor, you should hurry and work hard while you’re young.”

Xing Nian lifted his riding whip and pointed it at Old Liu. “There you go spouting nonsense again. You think I can just get promoted by working hard? Don’t I still need Taiping coins to pave the way? If I had 200 Taiping coins, the matchmakers would’ve already lined up at my door.”

Old Liu only smiled and did not argue.

Of course, battle merit worked too, but they were not frontier troops, and the Imperial Capital had been peaceful for decades. How could they get any war merit?

Besides, earning merit meant risking their life. One slip, and they would end up as someone else’s battle merit.

Xing Nian continued, “Living 100 years ends in death, and so does living 50 years. I’ll give this a few more years. If I don’t see any progress, I’ll pull some strings and transfer to the Navy. Maybe I can gamble for some wealth and rank, get a wife, and secure some honor.”

Old Liu’s left eye seemed clouded over, dull and unmoving. If one looked closely, one would realize it was a fake eye. With his good right eye, he glanced sideways at the young man beside him. “You always claim you don’t want to marry, but deep down you still long for a woman. But I truly don’t care anymore. Kid, you’re just sour grapes because you can’t get any.”

Xing Nian looked a little embarrassed. “You’re old, so you have no strength left. I bet you can’t even lift a spear on horseback. I’m in my prime, still full of energy, so how can you compare?”

Just then, a series of rolling thunderclaps boomed overhead.

Xing Nian muttered softly, “Damn, why is it thundering in the dead of winter?”

But the thunder was so loud that even Xing Nian could not hear himself speak.

Old Liu was just about to speak when suddenly a burst of blood bloomed from his chest, and he toppled straight off his horse.

Xing Nian froze in shock.

It was a rifle. Someone had used the cover of thunder to fire from the shadows, piercing the Black Robes’ armor with one deadly shot.

Old Liu had not even lived to the age where he could not get out of bed. He died just like that.

Xing Nian snapped to action, rolling off his horse and dropping flat to the ground.

The enemy was hidden and had rifles, so sitting on horseback was like being a living target. Even if he tried to flee, he would never outrun a bullet.

Xing Nian thought, Who would have rifles? It was either the Black Robes or...

Just then, a pitch-black armored boot appeared in Xing Nian’s line of sight, somewhat like the Black Robes’, but not quite the same. Silver threads traced cloud-like patterns across the black armor, which were ornate and striking.

This ornate design was not just for show. It was a Daoist talismanic pattern.

In an instant, Xing Nian understood who the enemy was.

The next moment, a bullet pierced Xing Nian’s skull. Xing Nian disliked the cold, so he had not worn his metal helmet. Instead, he only wore a fur cap.

The owner of that armored boot slowly stepped into view. It was a Daoist Spirit Guard, calmly reloading his still-smoking pistol, with a long rifle slung over his back. Not far behind stood two more Spirit Guards with long rifles. The three communicated only through simple hand gestures, silent and wordless, their faces completely hidden behind masks that glinted coldly under the dim moonlight.

After confirming that Xing Nian and Old Liu were dead, the three continued forward.

Similar scenes played out elsewhere. The elite Spirit Guards launched a full-scale night ambush on Wuxing Mountain, inflicting heavy casualties on the Divine Central Guards.

But this move also alarmed the commanding general overseeing this Divine Central Guards platoon.

He was a Wuliang-stage Martial Arts Practitioner already at the Everchanging Realm, so his physique was terrifyingly strong. As he strode out of camp, his figure visibly swelled with each step. Bouts of blood qi surged from his body, so much so that there was a vague crimson glow around him.

In the blink of an eye, this Wuliang-stage Martial Arts Practitioner transformed from an ordinary man into a giant over 5 meters tall. This was the Great Shaman True Form of a Manly Immortal. Unlike the more delicate and Diviner-like female Great Witch True Form, his true form was covered in bulging muscles, his eyes blood-red, radiating overwhelming pressure.

Though he was but one man, his march thundered like a charging cavalry unit, roaring with earth-shaking force.

The Spirit Guards all opened fire, countless bullets pouring down like rain toward the giant. But against the legendary indestructible body of Martial Arts Practitioners, the Grade-B Series One Dragon Eye Bullets could inflict no harm.

Unfazed, the Martial Arts Practitioner threw out a punch. Even before the fist arrived, the surging hot wind bent countless tree trunks and whipped up a cloud of flying sand and stones.

At that moment, the high-ranking Spirit Guard on the Daoist side made his move.

His pitch-black armor was seamless, with not a single gap. Unlike the lower-rank Spirit Guards whose talismanic patterns were drawn in silver threads, his patterns were etched in dark lines. At a glance, nothing could be seen, but up close, one would notice the densely inscribed talismans.

This was a second-rank Spirit Guard, who also unleashed a punch to meet the Martial Arts Practitioner’s blow.

Spirit Guards were not inherently powerful, but their enchanted armor and divine power augmented them, like incarnate vessels of the Godly Immortals. So, they were no weaker than their peers at the same cultivation level.

A thunderous crash drowned out the winter thunder, and a massive shockwave rippled outward, snapping countless bare trees clean in half.

With the deafening boom, the Spirit Guard staggered back, his feet carving two long trenches into the ground.

The Martial Arts Practitioner’s entire arm had been blasted to pieces, with no flesh remaining. Only specks of glowing light vaguely outlined the shape of an arm. These specks were the refined acupoints, which were the wondrous secret of the indestructible body.

Then blood qi surged into the outline, swiftly filling it and miraculously regenerating a new arm. Since the acupoints acted as the core, the newly formed limb needed no adaptation, seamlessly obeying fine-tuned control of the Martial Arts Practitioner.

The Spirit Guard pulled his feet from the ground and dashed at the giant once more.

This time, the Martial Arts Practitioner held nothing back, unleashing both fists. The two exchanged hundreds of blows in mere moments.

In terms of pure technique, the Everchanging Realm of Martial Arts Practitioner vastly outclassed the Spirit Guard. If this fight were scored by vital hits, the Spirit Guard would have lost over a dozen times. But the Spirit Guard’s armor was unbelievably tough. The Martial Arts Practitioner’s fists simply could not break it, so it left no fatal damage. However, the layers of fist intention weighed down on the Spirit Guard like a mountain.

The divine power coursing through the Spirit Guard’s body had not formed into a Spiritual Body. After all, Spirit Guards were not quite like Shamans. But the divine power did more than just fortify their armor. It granted them certain mystical abilities. Pure white flames ignited around him, incinerating the accumulated fist intention clinging to his armor.

This was the Haotian Bright Flame.