The Tree-Horn King nodded in satisfaction and looked south.
The Great River gleamed white, vast and boundless.
"Li Qingxian, oh, Li Qingxian. In our first two clashes, accidents left me gravely wounded through your indirect involvement. That hardly proves you're truly formidable. This time, I will fight you openly, blade against blade, spear against spear. First strategy, then strength, and I will come out on top! I will let every human and demon under heaven know that the most outstanding newly advanced third-rank cultivator on either side of the Great River is I, the Tree-Horn King, not you, Li Qingxian!"
The Tree-Horn King's enormous half-deer, half-human body stood tall, his massive antlers blazing with white light.
A moment later, his antlers dipped slightly.
"If we're competing in strategy, I can't afford to be softhearted. Three third-rank Demon Kings aren't enough. I'll bring five! I'll also ask His Majesty the Champion King to lend me a second-rank Demon King, and have him launch a sneak attack, not a frontal assault. Wouldn't a frontal assault make me look far too stupid? Right, I'll find two more third-rank Demon Kings skilled in assassination... I truly am the Demon Race's Poison Strategist, the Northern Bank's Zhao Yishan..."
The Tree-Horn King wore a broad smile.
The Northern Garrison Army.
News of Chen Yingyang's advancement in martial techniques continued to spread, while Li Qingxian remained in secluded cultivation.
Until one night, when Cha Fuli, the Northern Garrison Army's military supervisor, entered the Mo Blade Army Commander's Office.
His face clouded with worry, Cha Fuli said miserably, "Lord Li, Marquis Li, Brother Li, help your old brother out."
After speaking, Cha Fuli slumped dejectedly into a chair.
"Lord Supervisor, what's wrong?" Li Qingxian asked.
Cha Fuli said with a pained expression, "There's simply no hiding your funding