Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Second War

Returning to the tent, Li Chengzhu found that only Yuan Sen remained. This group, he thought, never seemed to know what they were doing. The little creature, however, darted into the arms of Boss Li with a swift, playful leap.

These days, the little one had been following the young actress around, and had somehow learned to act mischievous.

Boss Li, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment, pried the tiny claws from his chest and placed the creature atop his shoulder.

This little rascal, Li Chengzhu cursed inwardly.

“They’ve all gone out to fight,” Yuan Sen said, opening his eyes to look at Li Chengzhu.

“Hm?” Boss Li was surprised. Hadn’t Ye Zhiqiu said last time that everyone’s request to join the battle had been rejected? How had they rushed off to war so quickly?

“You’ve been gone for half a month,” Yuan Sen, reading the confusion in Li Chengzhu’s eyes, explained.

“So long?” Boss Li’s eyes widened in disbelief. He had only spent some time refining immortal swords and other items, nothing much—how had half a month flashed by in the blink of an eye?

Truly, time was meaningless in the realm of cultivation.

Seeing Yuan Sen’s expectant expression, Li Chengzhu awkwardly rubbed his hands. This man was still waiting for him to use the Glazed Needles to kill more enemies in revenge for his brother.

“Well, during this time I was refining the Glazed Needles and other things.”

“I know, fellow cultivator, there’s no need to explain!” Yuan Sen nodded. “To do a good job, one must first sharpen his tools.”

Boss Li exhaled in relief—so long as he understood.

After a short while, Boss Li grew restless and said, “I’ll go check on them.” Without waiting for Yuan Sen’s reply, he slipped out the door.

Though the war had begun, many cultivators still remained behind. The wounded and the dead were constantly brought back from the front lines, to be treated or buried.

In the Immortal Realm, every cultivator knew some basic self-preservation and healing methods, and everyone carried spiritual medicine. These cultivators were imbued with the same fighting spirit as the Chinese resistance in the Korean War: the lightly wounded never left the battlefield. Those carried back were either dead or gravely injured.

In large-scale battles like this, serious injuries were unavoidable. The Immortal Realm maintained its own medical teams to care for those unable to heal themselves any longer.

As Boss Li moved forward, his heart grew heavier—at every moment, wounded were being carried past him. Missing arms and legs were commonplace; as long as the Nascent Soul remained intact, cultivators had ways to restore their bodies, though it might cost them decades of cultivation.

The most tragic were those whose cultivation was utterly destroyed. Their protective spiritual energy shattered, and their Nascent Soul struck by the Angel Army, leaving them powerless.

The memory of Yuan Sen’s desolate appearance filled Boss Li with sorrow.

Thunderous roars and the explosions of magical treasures filled Li Chengzhu’s ears. When he saw the swarming magical swords and the throngs of Angel legions in the sky, Boss Li felt as if he had stumbled onto the set of Star Wars.

The sky and earth were packed with Angels and cultivators. Brilliant beams shot from the rear ranks of the Angels, sweeping over the cultivators like locusts. This was the Angel Army’s remote assault, the “Great Sage Spear Barrage.”

Li Chengzhu was stunned.

The sheer density and power of the attacks left him unsettled. If such an onslaught struck him, he would surely be riddled like a porcupine.

Yet the cultivators performed admirably.

Just before the “Great Sage Spear Barrage” descended, a hemispheric shield appeared above their heads, covering several miles.

Several dozen experts in the Grand Master realm stood behind the cultivators, providing protection. Their task was not to kill enemies at the front but to jointly deploy a newly learned defensive formation, “Heaven’s Net.”

Heaven’s Net—wide, yet nothing escapes!

Though these Grand Masters had only recently mastered the formation, the presence of the Destiny Spirit Stone as a spiritual medium allowed them to maximize their power, easily resisting the visually impressive but ineffective “Great Sage Spear Barrage.”

The few attacks that slipped through could not penetrate the cultivators’ protective spiritual energy and were blocked.

Once the barrage paused, the Grand Masters quickly dispelled “Heaven’s Net,” and the cultivators unleashed their magical treasures in return.

Everyone, aside from self-preservation, strove to kill as many enemies as possible.

Angels fighting on the ground were occasionally split in two by cultivators suddenly emerging from beneath, employing the Five Elements Earth Escape technique.

Cultivators known for their speed rode flying swords, weaving through the ranks, seizing the moment when Angels were distracted defending against their comrades to strike with a blade.

All talk of morality or mercy was nonsense. The only truth was the power to kill.

After repeated ambushes, the Angels grew wary. They attentively watched the spiritual pressure beneath their feet during battle, dodging when cultivators emerged, or simply taking flight.

But the sky was already overcrowded; there was no space for more.

For this war, the Angel Army committed their most precious remote main force.

Storms, torrential rains, lightning, and bogs were hurled ceaselessly toward the cultivators’ rear lines. Yet with eight groups of Grand Masters maintaining “Heaven’s Net,” and with distance limiting power transmission, these attacks were hardly effective.

The Immortal Emperor, humiliated by the previous defeat, had dispatched eight Supreme Golden Immortals to the field.

The Angel Realm, in turn, sent out an equal number of Eight-Winged Angels.

These mighty beings had already moved their battle away from the main field—the cultivators and the Two-Winged and Four-Winged Angels before them were not even worthy of a finger.

Although it would be easy for the powerful ones to slaughter weaker troops, none wished to compromise their status by bullying these small fry.

Besides, excessive slaughter was no virtue.

Thus, all naturally found worthy opponents and engaged in their own duels.

War could not be decided by a handful of strong individuals. War was brutal and enduring, a test of patience and ongoing support. Lacking either meant defeat.

Watching from the rear, Boss Li’s blood boiled, his breath growing deeper. He clenched his fists, his body trembling uncontrollably.

Feeling the spiritual energy whirling within him, Li Chengzhu could no longer restrain himself. He roared toward the sky, stepped onto his flying sword, grasped the Glazed Needles, and, with the little creature, soared into the midst of battle.