Chapter 111: Dreams Aid the Shadow City

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The night wind howled through the shadowed city, chilling and relentless. Long Qi leaned heavily on his spear, standing at the city gate, his gaze fixed on the thickening veil of ominous mist not far ahead. He knew the second wave of shadow soldiers was arriving, though he did not know who led them this time. With a heavy sigh, Long Qi began to slowly move toward the fog, which enveloped a vast graveyard.

This was a higher-level battlefield for the shadow troops, where the rules were strict: mortal cultivators who entered were destined only to be attacked and struck down. Long Qi understood this well but pressed on regardless. He had no idea how the strategist would treat his brothers after learning of his betrayal. Perhaps their plan had already been exposed. With this thought, Long Qi’s eyes hardened with resolve.

They had once been the Dragon Thirteen Guards, roaming the Changfeng Continent, now reviled and scorned like filthy rats. Long Qi reckoned that among the thirteen of them, he might be the only one left. Instead of cowering to the end in disgrace, he would rather die heroically on the battlefield defending the capital.

Meanwhile, Jun Moyan sat within the lord’s mansion of Yang City. Feng Wuliang stood silently before the motionless Jiang Pingchuan, who had been placed in the main hall. Feng Li and Feng Xiaoge, eyes reddened from tears, quietly wept while looking at the unconscious Jiang Pingchuan. Jun Moyan observed the fallen man with curiosity.

“Lord Feng, is this Jiang Pingchuan?” Jun Moyan asked, pointing to the man on the ground. Feng Wuliang nodded, and even Su Qianyun, standing nearby, cast a curious glance at Jiang Pingchuan. They had all heard of this man who had stirred such violent upheaval in Dongzhou City.

Yet now, seeing Jiang Pingchuan lying there, half his face disfigured, none could believe this was the young man once hailed as the youngest peak cultivator in all of Changfeng Continent.

“He’s nothing but a wreck,” Wan Tang said disdainfully, looking down at Jiang Pingchuan. Feng Li and Feng Xiaoge shot Wan Tang displeased glances.

“What did you say? Say that again if you dare. Believe it or not, when my brother wakes, he’ll slap you dead with one palm!” Feng Li rose, eyes blazing with fury, staring daggers at Wan Tang. Wan Tang’s expression flickered with irritation at Feng Li’s outburst.

“Slap—”

“Ungrateful brat! Apologize to Lord Wan at once!” Feng Wuliang struck Feng Li across the face, shouting angrily. Feng Li sneered at his father, then glanced at Wan Tang, who was waiting for an apology. With a cold snort, Feng Li turned and stormed out of the hall.

Everyone was stunned by the scene. Wan Tang’s face darkened, while Feng Wuliang, looking apologetic, stood beside Wan Tang, trying to smooth things over. Wan Tang and Jun Moyan had come to support Yin-Yang City, and Feng Wuliang feared that if they were angered, they might not fight wholeheartedly to defend it.

“Lord Feng, your son certainly has a fiery temper,” Jun Moyan remarked with a smile, watching Feng Li’s retreating figure. Feng Wuliang blushed and blinked, saying nothing. Jun Moyan gave Wan Tang a reassuring pat on the shoulder, signaling him not to be upset. Wan Tang snorted coldly and turned away from Feng Wuliang.

“Marquis Qingyuan, how should we handle the current battle situation?” Feng Wuliang, seeing Wan Tang drop the subject of Feng Li, moved on to the matter at hand. Jiang Pingchuan, though unconscious, seemed to float in his own thoughts, sensing the changes around him. Su Qianyun kept his gaze fixed silently on Jiang Pingchuan.

“The Barbarian King’s offensive is massive in scale, but his tactics are too conventional. Normally, an attack would begin with the first line of defense, yet they easily destroyed Dongzhou City but slowed down at Yin-Yang City. Doesn’t that strike you as odd, Lord Feng?” Jun Moyan’s words caused everyone to pause, puzzled by his implication.

“Could it be that the Barbarian King can only destroy one city at a time?” Feng Wuliang murmured, lowering his head in thought. Su Qianyun’s gaze grew more intense on Jiang Pingchuan, while Wan Tang studied Jun Moyan carefully, unwilling to let him out of sight.

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“Lord Feng’s observation makes sense, but there is a more terrifying possibility. The Barbarian King is methodically attacking the three lines of defense rather than launching an all-out assault on the capital. There must be some hidden agenda,” Jun Moyan said, casting a mysterious smile at those present. When his eyes met Wan Tang’s, he lingered a moment longer than necessary. Wan Tang looked uneasy but relaxed slightly once Jun Moyan’s gaze moved on.

“There is a traitor within the capital,” Su Qianyun broke his long silence, startling Feng Wuliang. Jun Moyan clapped his hands enthusiastically in approval.

“Ha! That's Su Qianyun for you—meticulous and perceptive,” Jun Moyan praised, though a strange light flickered in his eyes. Su Qianyun ignored the compliment, and Jun Moyan did not press further, knowing Su Qianyun was naturally taciturn—an acknowledged fact across Changfeng.

“How can you be so sure?” Wan Tang asked, glancing between Su Qianyun and Jun Moyan in confusion. Feng Wuliang also watched Jun Moyan curiously.

“The traitor in the capital isn’t ready yet. That’s why the Barbarian King is proceeding cautiously,” Jun Moyan said solemnly, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he looked at Feng Wuliang. Feng Wuliang nodded slowly, pondering Jun Moyan’s words.

“How do you know?” Wan Tang quickly pressed, unable to contain his urgency.

“Wan Tang, I’m only guessing. Why get so worked up?” Jun Moyan smiled warmly at the tense Wan Tang, who returned a faint smile.

“We have the capital’s offerings at stake. Isn’t it natural to be anxious about this?” Wan Tang said quietly before turning and leaving the hall.

Feng Wuliang looked at Jun Moyan but said nothing. He stepped over to Jiang Pingchuan and patted Feng Xiaoge, who had been crouching by Jiang Pingchuan’s side, on the shoulder.

Since Jiang Pingchuan was brought in, Feng Xiaoge had not left his side, quietly placing his hand on Jiang Pingchuan’s charred palm without uttering a word. Feng Wuliang’s touch startled Feng Xiaoge as if he had lost his soul. When Feng Wuliang tried to rouse him, Su Qianyun shook his head, signaling him not to disturb Feng Xiaoge.

At the city gate of Yin City, Jiang Pingchuan held Feng Xiaoge’s hand as he watched Long Qi stagger toward the graveyard ahead. Feng Xiaoge clutched his favorite grasshopper toy, his face pale as he looked at Jiang Pingchuan. Jiang Pingchuan reached out and gently patted Feng Xiaoge’s head, faintly smiling.

“Boss, does your face hurt?” Feng Xiaoge asked, voice trembling as he looked at the half-disfigured man.

“No, it doesn’t,” Jiang Pingchuan replied with a smile. This was a dream—there was no pain here. He crouched down, cupping Feng Xiaoge’s face and staring into his eyes.

“Xiaoge, aren’t you afraid of how I look now?” Jiang Pingchuan asked quietly.

Feng Xiaoge shook his head.

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“Boss, Big Brother and I always knew you’d be fine. No matter what you look like, Xiaoge isn’t scared. What I really fear is not seeing you. I wish Big Brother could enter your dream too,” Feng Xiaoge said, holding Jiang Pingchuan’s hand. In the dream, Feng Xiaoge felt his life was surreal. It was the first time someone had brought him into a dream world. The moment he touched Jiang Pingchuan’s palm, his mind filled with Jiang Pingchuan’s voice.

Jiang Pingchuan said he had a way to stop the shadow soldiers from entering the city and asked if Feng Xiaoge wanted to see. Feng Xiaoge nodded, and they appeared before the Yin City gate just as Long Qi sighed and headed toward the graveyard.

“This is both a dream and a battlefield. Stay here quietly and don’t move. If anything happens, bite your tongue to wake yourself from the dream. Understand?” Jiang Pingchuan instructed, holding Feng Xiaoge gently in the corner of the city wall.

Feng Xiaoge nodded seriously. Jiang Pingchuan stood, clenching his fists, and walked toward Long Qi.

Long Qi stood amid the graves, feeling the chilling aura enveloping him. As he prepared to warm up his cultivation technique, a sharp pain suddenly shot through his ankle. Looking down, he saw a desiccated skeletal hand had pierced his ankle unnoticed. He tried to leap free but was utterly powerless.

A dense aura of death washed over him. Long Qi cursed himself silently—what a useless wretch, barely inside and already about to be done for. It was a disgrace so profound it seemed to reach even the graves of his ancestors.

“Move aside, you’re in the way,” Jiang Pingchuan said, grabbing Long Qi’s shoulder and throwing him out of the graveyard. Long Qi fell to the ground, glaring in annoyance. But when the pale moonlight shone on Jiang Pingchuan’s half-damaged face, Long Qi’s heart skipped a beat. He was terrified by the sight. He rose, bowed slightly to Jiang Pingchuan, then strode toward the city gate.

Jiang Pingchuan slowly ventured deeper into the graveyard. From his pocket, he drew out a War King’s Token, gently infusing it with a thread of true energy. Within the token, he sensed a powerful surge of resentment.

This intense hatred nourished millions of shadow soldiers and commanders within. Their numbers were growing rapidly—a fact the War King had not revealed to Jiang Pingchuan.

Jiang Pingchuan had only recently noticed the sudden increase in their numbers. When he infused his composite true energy into the War King’s Token, all the shadow troops within glared at him with blood-red eyes, gripping long black scythes and emitting low, fierce howls, as if summoned by some call, eager for battle.

Closing his eyes, Jiang Pingchuan immersed himself in the legion inside the token. In that moment, he became their sovereign.

“Welcome, Ghost King,” the shadow soldiers and commanders declared. They had transformed—not clad in tattered armor but reborn in gleaming new plates etched with a purple skull.

This was not the War King’s Token Jiang Pingchuan knew. This was his own creation. The War King’s token had never housed such formidable shadow troops. What Jiang Pingchuan saw before him were like vengeful spirits clawing their way out of hell itself.

They seemed to have endured millennia of war. Instead of the usual dark aura, Jiang Pingchuan saw oceans of blood—faintly glowing crimson and reeking of death.

At that moment, Jiang Pingchuan felt a summons deep within his soul. He yearned desperately for war, just as these millions of shadow warriors did.

He longed to break free from the War King’s Token, to fight a brutal battle, to witness rivers of blood and heaps of corpses stretching as far as the eye could see.

Postscript: The War King’s Token has been upgraded. The Ghost King was originally a god of war—how could this token be so simple...