The sound of the torn flag corner came and went in the wind, like a string stretched to its limit. Chen Wuya did not lower his head to look. He merely tightened his five fingers, his palm pressing against an old crack in the flagpole. He remembered the veins standing out on the back of Old Wu Tou's hand when he passed him the flag, and he remembered the mud-caked knees of the youth who had fallen, then climbed back to his feet. Now, all of it weighed on his shoulders.
At the far end of the wilderness, dust rose into the air.
"They're here." Old Wu Tou had somehow come to stand just behind him and to the side. His cane tapped the ground, and his voice was low enough for only the two of them to hear. "You really plan to send this bunch of peasants crashing into armored cavalry?"
"Not crash." Chen Wuya suddenly drove the flagpole into the hard soil before him. "Trip them."
Before his voice had even faded, the first wave of enemy silhouettes burst from the treeline. Blades linked into a sheet of snowy waves as they charged straight for the camp's perimeter. The villagers spread out along the edges, five to a group, each taking their assigned position from the previous night's drills. Some hands trembled, some breaths came fast, but no one retreated.
A burly man was driven against a woodpile by three opponents, with nowhere left to retreat. One of them brought his blade down, and he instinctively raised his club to block—it was the wrong move. In a head-on clash, they would not last three exchanges.
Chen Wuya moved.
He did not charge straight in. Instead, he stepped half a pace to the side, his toe scraping the ground, his body cutting into the dead angle of the melee like a smooth stone slipping into water. His left hand feinted, drawing one man's gaze away, while his right hand settled against another's elbow and gave a guiding push. That man was already lunging forward with all his strength. Suddenly pulled by an outside force, he lost his balance, and his blade veered aside, chopping into his comrade's shoulder blade. Before the scream had faded, Chen Wuya had already spun into a Misstep, lightly bumping his shoulder and back into the third man's chest. The opponent staggered backward, stepped on a tripwire buried in advance, and crashed onto his back.
"Don't brace against them! Follow their force!" His shout exploded across the field.
The shout was like a spark falling into dry tinder. Several groups of villagers immediately answered, no longer clinging stubbornly to their positions. Instead, they moved through the battlefield with Shifting Step, luring the enemy deeper. One person feigned collapse and drew an enemy into pursuit, while the other four closed in from both sides and toppled him together with Counter Push Hand. An enemy soldier swung his blade down with all his might, only to be redirected in turns by three people until he flung himself out of the battle circle.
The first wave of attacks was forced back more than ten paces.
But the enemy did not panic. A second force emerged from the woodland on the flank, their footsteps light and steady—clearly elite fighters. They avoided a frontal clash and drove straight into the weak left wing of the defenses. Two villagers failed to react in time and were slashed across the arms, tumbling to the ground. A third had only just raised his farming tool when the back of a blade was already pressed against his neck.
The wind had shifted.
The corner of Chen Wuya's eye twitched. He could hear the rhythm of boot soles crushing dead grass—not a charge, but a hunt.
He pulled the bone whistle from his waist and blew three short bursts. It was the emergency repositioning signal. Then he rushed toward the gap and met three advancing enemies with drawn blades.
The other side clearly recognized him. The leader gave a cold laugh and swept his blade straight across. Chen Wuya advanced instead of retreating, deliberately lowering his center of gravity and exposing an opening in his lower stance. As expected, the man seized the chance to attack, his blade stabbing straight toward Chen Wuya's lower abdomen.
Just as the blade came within less than half a foot of his robe, the true qi inside Chen Wuya suddenly reversed.
Misaligned Force—full release!
He did not circulate his strength to resist head-on. Instead, he let his qi and blood surge backward through the Eight Extraordinary Meridians, forming a twisted yet swift route of circulation. Using his shoulder blade as the axis, he tilted and half-turned his body, not only avoiding the vital point but also borrowing the opponent's momentum to drag him off course. The man could not withdraw his blade in time and stumbled forward. Chen Wuya's right foot shot up and struck another man squarely in the knee pit, making his leg buckle as he dropped to one knee. The third man swept his blade horizontally, but Chen Wuya had already lowered himself and slid along the ground. His palm struck the earth, and Misaligned Force erupted along his arm, numbing the opponent's wrist and sending the blade spinning from his hand.
The three men lost their balance one after another and tumbled into a heap.
The watching villagers saw it clearly, and their morale soared. Someone shouted, "Do it the way he taught us!" Several groups swiftly reorganized their formations, using woodpiles, ropes, and uneven ground to create layer upon layer of obstacles. A woman snatched up a clothes-drying pole and jabbed it between an enemy soldier's legs. After landing the hit, she turned and ran. Two youths worked together to loop a hemp rope around a man's ankle, drag him down, and beat him as a mob.
But at last, the enemy commander appeared.
Draped in black robes over armor, with red jade set into the hilt of his blade, he walked forward step by step, as though the ground itself sank an inch beneath him. His eyes locked onto Chen Wuya. With a wave of his hand, the remaining enemy soldiers immediately closed ranks. They no longer attacked separately, but formed a triangular formation and advanced slowly. With every step they took, their imposing force swelled by another measure.
Chen Wuya knew they intended to capture the leader and behead the commander.
When the man had approached within seven steps, he suddenly erupted into motion. His blade flashed like lightning, stabbing straight for Chen Wuya's throat.
In a head-on clash, Chen Wuya would certainly lose. His opponent's cultivation was profound, his techniques airtight, and every ounce of force followed the principles of martial combat. And Chen Wuya? His cultivation method was incomplete, his meridians ran in reverse, and even his stance had been called a crooked, unorthodox path.
Yet those very "mistakes" had become his road.
He neither dodged nor evaded. Instead, he stepped forward to meet the attack. His right palm drew the blade aside at an angle, using Misaligned Force to unload three-tenths of its power, while the remaining force flowed along the edge of his palm into the ground. The wilderness soil was dry and cracked, and the lingering might of the lightning tribulation still remained in the night sky, sheltering a thread of the faintest electric intent.
This was the moment he had been waiting for.
He stamped both feet down. The Canglang Misaligned Thunder that had been gathering inside him for so long detonated with a roar. Blue-white arcs burst from his palm and spread along the ground, instantly wrapping around the enemy commander's feet. The man felt a stabbing pain shoot from the soles of his feet up his spine. His entire right arm went numb and powerless, his blade veered aside, and it skimmed past Chen Wuya's ear.
Before the lightning had faded, Chen Wuya was already upon him. His left hand clamped around the man's wrist, while his right palm pressed against his chest. Misaligned Force Full Release—true qi surged backward through the Shanzhong Acupoint, then poured down the Ren Meridian into Yongquan. This was not a proper circulation method belonging to any orthodox school, but a twisted route forcibly completed by the system.
The enemy commander seemed to have been struck by lightning. A sweetness rose in his throat, and he spat out a mist of blood. The earth beneath his feet split into spiderweb cracks from the tremors of the electric force. He could no longer stand steadily and fell onto his back. The curved blade in his hand could not withstand the impact of the internal force. With a sharp crack, it shattered into several pieces, and fragments flew in every direction.
The entire battlefield fell deathly silent.
The enemy soldiers still locked in combat froze and looked toward the place where their commander had fallen. Some threw down their weapons and turned to flee. Others stood rooted in place, utterly at a loss. The orderly formation collapsed in an instant, and the retreat surged away like a tide breaking apart.
The villagers erupted in cheers. Some picked up stones and chased the fleeing soldiers, while others helped the wounded to their feet and embraced them through their tears. An old man knelt on the ground, scooped up a handful of soil, and smeared it across his face as he muttered, "We survived... We really survived..."
Old Wu Tou leaned on his cane and walked toward the ruins of the camp, beginning to count the casualties. He passed the fallen enemies without slowing, his expression unchanged. Thirty years ago, he had seen battlefields like this. He knew victory had never been the end—only a chance to catch one's breath.
Chen Wuya stood in the middle of the wilderness, breathing heavily, his arm trembling faintly. He still held the broken flagpole, half a strip of cloth fluttering in the wind. He lowered his head and looked at his palm. There was a scorch mark there, something that had not been there before.
He knew the wound would not heal at once.
He also knew that the road ahead would no longer have any walls.
The outlines of the distant mountain ridges were blurred, and the night had yet to fade. Wind passed over the charred wooden stakes, producing a faint crackling sound. A crow landed on a broken spear not far away and cocked its head, staring at the tattered flag in Chen Wuya's hand.
Chen Wuya raised his foot and took a step forward.
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