May Your Souls Become Heroic Ghosts

Crack!

A crack appeared on the heart protection mirror. Chen Xian was sent flying over ten meters by the Golden Ring Great Saber, sliding several meters on the bloody mud ground before stabilizing himself.

Puff!

He couldn't help but spit out a mouthful of blood. His chest heaved, pushing the Golden Ring Great Saber away and causing it to fall to the ground.

Chen Xian wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, stepped forward, and grabbed the Golden Ring Great Saber. It felt heavy in his hand, weighing at least five hundred kilograms.

"Good saber!" he praised, looking up at the Black Tiger King ten miles away.

The Black Tiger King was also surprised that it hadn't killed the human youth.

Well, the distance was too great!

The Golden Ring Great Saber had traveled ten miles to reach Chen Xian, its power reduced by more than half.

"Hmph!"

The Black Tiger King snorted angrily and leaped into the air.

Pei Menglong and another young general did not pursue. Their gazes fell on Chen Xian in the Blood River Forest. The middle-aged young general frowned, "A Cook Soldier? Blocking the Black Tiger King's attack?"

"He's a talented individual!" Pei Menglong said in a deep voice.

He then returned to the Ninth Battalion. The middle-aged young general frowned but said nothing more, quickly departing.

In the Blood River Forest, Chen Xian no longer pursued the demons. He held the Golden Ring Great Saber and returned the way he came, killing any demons he encountered.

He continued until there wasn't a single demon in sight on the southern bank of the Blood River.

Chen Xian then carried the saber to the northern bank of the Blood River and regrouped with Ding Chen, Wang Yan, and the others.

With the demons retreating, everyone was deflated. They all squatted on the bloody mud ground, gasping for breath.

"This is not a place to rest. Let's head back to Seven Mile Peak first!" Chen Xian said.

Upon hearing this, Ding Chen, Wang Yan, and the others reluctantly stood up and followed him towards Seven Mile Peak.

The battle tonight had been extremely fierce, and the demons had also suffered heavy losses. They likely wouldn't attack again.

Not long after, everyone returned to the foot of Seven Mile Peak.

A foul smell of blood hung in the air, and the cold wind blew without dissipating it.

The bloody mud ground was littered with corpses, both demon corpses and Cook Soldier corpses.

"Zhao Yu!"

Chen Xian's gaze swept across the area, and he spotted a Cook Soldier covered in blood, half-kneeling on the ground with a spear in hand, his aura weak.

He flashed forward and supported Zhao Yu with both hands.

Zhao Yu was frothing at the mouth, half his face a bloody mess. He struggled to lift his head, looking at Chen Xian and forcing a smile. Clumps of bloody foam spilled from the corners of his mouth.

"Xian, Brother Xian, I, I did my best!" Zhao Yu said weakly, his head then drooping.

"Zhao Yu!" Chen Xian shouted, his emotions filled with grief and anger.

In the nearly two months he had been in this world, he had interacted most with Ding Chen and the other four, as well as Cao Fang and Zhao Yu.

Now that Zhao Yu was dead, it put him in a particularly bad mood.

"Where's Cao Fang?" Chen Xian suddenly stood up.

"Brother Xian, I'm here...!" a weak voice came from a distance.

Chen Xian and the others turned to look, spotting a person covered in blood lying on a demon corpse. One of his arms had been torn off by a demon, and his left leg had been cleanly severed by a sharp weapon. Blood was still gushing out.

"Cao Fang!" Ding Chen also shouted and quickly walked over.

Everyone quickly followed, helping Cao Fang sit up.

"Hehehe..."

Cao Fang let out a mournful laugh. He had long anticipated this day, but he hadn't expected it to come so soon. He was about to die on the battlefield without having accomplished anything.

"Brother Ding, Brother Xian, you don't need to grieve for me. We are Demon Slayer Soldiers of Great Ning, heroes who protect billions of people. As I bid farewell, with my life, I wish you to live forever, defeat the demons, and achieve unparalleled merit! Cough cough cough..."

Cao Fang used his last ounce of strength to say this, then coughed up blood and could no longer speak.

He raised his head, resting it on the demon's abdomen, gazed at the bloody sky, and slowly closed his eyes...

Chen Xian, Ding Chen, and the others looked at Cao Fang's peaceful face, smeared with demon blood, and fell into collective silence.

Swish swish!

In the bloody sky, heavy rain poured down, drenching the bloody earth.

It washed over all the surviving soldiers, cleansing their grief-stricken souls. The world was exceptionally silent.

After a long while.

Chen Xian picked up Cao Fang and placed him under a large tree.

Ding Chen and the others carried Zhao Yu to the tree as well, followed by the other fallen Cook Soldiers, all arranged neatly.

A moment later, there were one hundred and thirty-nine Cook Soldier corpses laid out before Chen Xian.

Gazing at their fallen brothers, Chen Xian led the others in a bow.

Ding Chen and the others were slightly taken aback.

The Great Ning Dynasty had no such custom, but seeing Chen Xian do it, Ding Chen and the others hesitated before also bowing.

At this moment, Chen Xian's clear voice rang out:

"Departing without return, never to come back, confronting demons on a path far and wide; with a long sword and Ning bow at my side, heads may fall, but spirits will not be broken; for courage and might were truly possessed, strength unyielding, impossible to be oppressed; though bodies perish, spirits remain alive, may your souls become heroic ghosts! (Note 1)"

"May your souls become heroic ghosts!"

The resonant voices, like great bells and drums, struck the heart.

Everyone stared at Chen Xian, dumbfounded. No one had expected Chen Xian to possess such literary talent.

"May your souls become heroic ghosts!" Ding Chen snapped back to attention and shouted.

Everyone shouted in unison: "May your souls become heroic ghosts!"

"May your souls become heroic ghosts!"

"..."

The multitude of voices broke through the rain, piercing the heavens.

After a moment, Chen Xian waved his hand, and the others finally stopped shouting.

He turned to Ding Chen and said, "Brother Ding, when day breaks tomorrow, take the men and send our fallen brothers back to the Ninth Battalion."

"Yes!" Ding Chen nodded solemnly.

At this moment, he realized he had underestimated Chen Xian.

Chen Xian was three years younger than him, yet he was a young prodigy.

Perhaps this was heaven's chance for Ning Chen to turn the tide.

The next day.

The rain had stopped, and the eastern sun was rising. Its yolk-like light pierced the bloody mist, shining on the faces of the surviving soldiers.

Chen Xian opened his eyes and looked at Ding Chen.

Ding Chen also opened his eyes. After exchanging a glance, he got up and called Wang Yan and Luo Ying to lead men in carrying the 139 deceased soldiers back to the camp.

"Xianzi, we're leaving. You'll have to hold the fort for now!" Ding Chen said.

"No problem!" Chen Xian shook his head.

Out of three hundred men, 139 had died, leaving 161 alive.

However, 53 were severely wounded, and the remaining 108 also had injuries, some minor, some severe.

Chen Xian kept Qin Fei, Xue Qishan, and fifty others.

The rest, along with Ding Chen, Wang Yan, and Luo Ying, returned with the deceased Cook Soldiers and those too severely injured to fight.

After everyone had left, Chen Xian didn't rest. He led Qin Fei, Xue Qishan, and the fifty men in moving the demon corpses from the Blood River Forest to the foot of Seven Mile Peak, piling them up to await transport by the cooks from the Cooks' Camp.

By mid-morning, Zhao Tong arrived at the foot of Seven Mile Peak with thirty cooks and their carts.

When he saw Chen Xian, he merely snorted and didn't dare to say anything. He urged his men to quickly move the demon corpses.

As many cooks carried the demon corpses, they secretly glanced at Chen Xian and his men.

Some were gloating, some were indifferent, some were admiring, and some were sighing...

Chen Xian ignored them all. He sat cross-legged on a stone slab and summoned his status panel.

[Martial Arts: Ox Demon Golden Flame Technique (Mastered), Vajra Dragon Elephant Art (Uninitiated)...]

[Experience: 259280 points]

[Realm: Dao Foundation Perfection]

[Lifespan: 220 years]

"250,000 experience!"

Chen Xian felt a surge of excitement. It was 50,000 more experience points than he had anticipated.

With these 250,000 experience points, it should be enough to reach the Soaring Realm.

Reaching the Soaring Realm at eighteen years old... the thought alone was astonishing!

Note 1: Adapted from the Ci Fu · Nine Songs [Guo Shang].