The Ancient Mohist Immortal Master Takes to the Air; Cannons Stand Ready to Blast Him Down

Seeing dozens of giant crossbows trained on him, their cold gleam fixed on his body, Rong Jian's expression darkened and brightened by turns.

After a moment, he softened his tone, though his voice still carried the authority of a grandmaster, and called up to the city wall. "Qin Guli! Xiangli Qin! And all you Mohist disciples inside the city, listen!

I know Zhao Cheng is forcing you to do his bidding!

He has taken Mohist disciples hostage and seized the Steam Engine technology by force. That is an act of sheer injustice!"

"Now, the Mohist Ancestor is with us, too. I've already pleaded on your behalf!

As long as you see the error of your ways now, shut down all the steam-powered machines on the wall and open the gates to let the Yan Army in, the Mohist School can forgive your past betrayal and hold you blameless!"

He paused, deliberately emphasizing the news that Zhao Cheng was absent. "Zhao Cheng is far away in the Wei State right now, busy attacking the Wei Army. No one in Wu'an City can keep you in check!

Would you really throw your lives away and ruin the Mohist School's reputation for a Blood Butcher who isn't even here?"

"I'll give you half an incense stick to think it over!

If you know what's good for you and surrender by opening the gates, you'll still have a share in the Mohist School's steam-powered mechanical legacy.

But if you stubbornly refuse to see reason..."

Rong Jian's gaze turned sharp as he swept his eyes over the Yan Army and the Mohist disciples behind him. "Once we break through the city, the Mohist rules demand that traitors be put to death on the spot!

The choice is yours!"

He was confident his words would sway