There was one thing Zhai Le knew very clearly.
Had the martial armor not protected him just now, that blade would have split him neatly in two, from his right shoulder to his left abdomen.
The plates on his shoulder guard were already cracked. They absolutely wouldn't withstand a second strike in the same spot! The next blow would shatter them for sure!
And then—
Zhai Le could almost see it happening: if he was lucky, he'd only lose an arm. If he was unlucky, he'd die young right there on the spot!
But so what?
He grinned, baring teeth stained with blood. The peach-blossom eyes of the youth shone brighter than ever as he conjured another Red Tassel Hook Sickle Spear.
Gongshu Wu was not as relaxed as he appeared.
The youth's talent was almost frightening.
Perhaps Zhai Le himself hadn't even realized it, but he was improving every moment. Even if the progress was slight, each time he fought, he brought Gongshu Wu a fresh surprise—and fresh pressure.
If Zhai Le lived to adulthood—no, if he had just two more years, surpassing him would be a sure thing. Talent and insight alone weren't frightening. What was frightening was that he also worked hard.
Gongshu Wu steadied his breathing. Seeing Zhai Le brimming with fighting spirit, not only undaunted by death but growing more courageous with every clash, he couldn't help laughing.
"Good! Just what I wanted!"
Soldiers against soldiers, generals against generals.
The latter had the upper hand, but the balance among the former was gradually tipping toward the enemy. Chu Yao and the others could do little about it. Their side had fewer people to begin with, and the commander of the Martial Qi Soldiers had all his attention fixed on fighting the enemy, leaving him unable