Li Shimin Wept Blood as He Battled the Buddhist Sect

The Tang Army's soldiers used their flesh and blood, their life-burning battle spirit, to forcibly halt the further advance of those transcendents and drive them away from the villages that had already been reduced to scorched earth.

When the first pale light of dawn appeared on the horizon, the surviving Tianzhu "experts," covered head to toe in blood, finally retreated and joined the main force in the rear, temporarily ceasing their attack. On Great Tang's side, the allied forces rushing in from various cities had also paid a grievous price. More heartbreaking still, they had ultimately arrived one step too late.

Ironwall Pass had become a land of death. At least seven or eight sizable villages in the surrounding area had been completely massacred, leaving behind only ruined walls, unextinguished flames, and... mountains of their compatriots' corpses.

The news was sent back to Chang'an at the fastest possible speed through emergency communication Magic Arrays and beacon fires.

Inside the imperial palace, King of Tang Li Shimin was reviewing memorials and discussing this year's spring planting with his ministers when he received the eight-hundred-li urgent dispatch from the border, its battle report stained with blood and scorched marks. At first, he assumed it was another minor clash.

But when he skimmed through the horrifying words, written in a trembling hand—"Ironwall Pass destroyed in one night. None of the 140,000 soldiers and civilians survived. Surrounding villages massacred, casualties beyond count. Suspected intervention by immortal or demonic power"—the Emperor who had weathered countless storms and personally founded the flourishing Zhen'guan Era felt his vision go black, as though his chest had been struck savagely by a ten-thousand-pound hammer!

"Puh—!"

A mouthful of bright red blood burst from Li Shimin's mouth without warning, splattering across the battle report in his hand and the dragon