Chapter 115: Shifts on All Sides (3)

The Crocodile Spirit was seized with terror. He had not expected the Dragon Lord, who appeared severely wounded, to still possess such an imposing aura. However, judging by the Dragon King’s condition, his injuries were clearly substantial. The Crocodile Spirit exchanged glances with the others nearby; some were even secretly channeling their magic, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. The Crocodile Spirit’s eyes flickered with greed and hesitation, but he quickly suppressed his impulses, gave a subtle shake of his head to his companions, and sat back in his original position, closing his eyes to compose himself.

Leaning back on his dragon throne, the Dragon Lord finally let out a breath. While he appeared injured, half of it was the backlash of his own destiny, and the other half was due to being caught off guard at this critical juncture. He burned with the urge to curse aloud. Sensing his own fortune, he felt it had been damaged. He gazed toward the direction of the capital, sensing a presence like a sharp sword pointed at him, though it had yet to be unsheathed.

With a dark expression, the Dragon Lord thought to himself, "Who exactly is trying to move against me? It seems they intend to sever my roots through the imperial court."

He suddenly remembered that the Marquis of Wu’an was currently in the Southern Continent. Fury surged within him, and killing intent radiated from his body. He roared, "Marquis of Wu’an, I will make sure you die a wretched death!"

"Clatter!"

The lesser demons below were so startled by the Dragon King’s shout that they all scrambled to their feet, staring in shock at the enraged ruler. Some wanted to step forward to ask what had happened, but they were frozen by the sheer murderous aura emanating from him.

The Dragon Lord was consumed by fury; his killing intent steamed off him like a physical entity. Combined with the draconic pressure he exuded, it left many below gasping for breath. The dragon form is the primordial vessel of heaven and earth, a synthesis of all creation containing the Three Talents and Four Symbols. Much like the human form, there exist the Great Dao Body and the Innate Dao Body; the Human-Dragon form is the most noble of all. Consequently, those with weaker cultivation were left drenched in cold sweat.

Had the Dragon King not been focusing his rage elsewhere, those with the weakest foundations might have already been forced back into their true forms. Even so, they were faring poorly. A glint of realization flashed in the Crocodile Spirit’s eyes. He thought, "Thank goodness I didn't do anything earlier, or I would have been truly ensnared by this dragon."

The Dragon King felt his fortune plummeting, his hard-won cultivation level teetering on the brink of collapse. He had not expected that after a century of preparation, he would come so close to failure at this very moment.

His hatred for the Marquis of Wu’an had reached its zenith. Even if he succeeded in unifying Dongting Lake, without the support of this fortune, his position would remain unstable—not to mention the looming threat of the national destiny, which hung over him like a sword.

The Dragon Lord sat upright, his murderous gaze sweeping over the demons below. Each one felt as though they had been plunged into a frozen wasteland, their bodies stiffening instantly. When his eyes finally fell upon the Crocodile Spirit, they lingered for a moment. The Crocodile Spirit’s previously calm demeanor shattered; he felt like a small boat about to capsize in a turbulent sea, a chill rising from the base of his spine straight to his skull.

The Crocodile Spirit suppressed his defiance toward the Dragon King, thinking to himself that the Dragon King was far more formidable than he had imagined, and felt lucky he had not acted earlier.

The Dragon Lord did not dwell on the Crocodile Spirit for long. Scanning the many demons below, he declared in a sharp, icy tone, "From this day forth, the waters of Dongting Lake are at war with the armies of the Great Liang Dynasty."

Though the demons found the order strange, none dared to move. They waited, eyes fixed on the Dragon Lord, as he added in a grim voice, "Henceforth, whenever you see the armies of the Great Liang Dynasty..."

He paused, and then three words escaped his lips:

"Kill them all!"

The Dragon Lord’s killing intent was now like a physical force. Its sudden release made the demons feel a suffocating pressure, forcing them to abandon their internal meditative breathing and gasp for air instinctively.

As the Dragon King unleashed his killing intent, even the creatures on the island felt the air thicken. In a nearby palace, various rebel leaders were discussing strategies and pacing back and forth, all gripped by a sudden sense of impending doom. They looked at one another in panic, and seeing the same fear reflected in the eyes of others, they fell into a heavy, ominous silence.

Meanwhile, in a small town surrounding Dongting Lake, many tents had been erected. Anyone familiar with military life would recognize them as standard campaign tents. The ground around the camp was dotted with shimmering objects, looking quite beautiful at a glance.

These were not for decoration, but traps to prevent surprise night raids. These shimmering items were iron caltrops; their spikes could pierce the soles of boots, making it nearly impossible to walk. Furthermore, they were coated in Datura poison, which grew abundantly in the lush wetlands nearby. The plant was crushed and applied to the caltrops; anyone who stepped on them would be incapacitated and captured. It was a standard defensive strategy for stationary armies.

Nearby, soldiers were digging trenches, suggesting a long-term encampment. These trenches served for drainage and defense against enemy assaults, and in critical moments, they could serve as fighting positions.

Inside the town, squads of soldiers maintained order. Although the town remained somewhat chaotic, the process of reorganization was proceeding methodically. In the largest building, the Marquis of Wu’an was gathered with his officers, studying a map and discussing their next move.

The town was named Xiting County, located on the western side of Dongting Lake. As of that day, their numbers had swelled to over thirty thousand. Managing such a force was proving difficult, and absorbing more troops would only complicate matters. Moreover, they were only a hundred miles from the junction of Dongting Lake and Taixuan Lake.

Some urged an immediate push to take the junction, while others advocated for a direct march on Taixuan Lake. Ultimately, the Marquis of Wu’an made the final decision: they would pause to consolidate the thirty thousand new recruits and forge them into a cohesive fighting force.

In the center of the town’s largest building, a massive sand-table map occupied the room, depicting the entire Southern Continent. The officers were embroiled in a heated debate around it, while the Marquis of Wu’an listened silently, deep in thought.

Suddenly, a wave of killing intent surged through the sky above the army, attempting to descend. However, the moment it touched the martial aura of the troops, it was dissipated without a trace.

The Marquis of Wu’an, a Celestial Immortal, possessed keen sensitivity to the workings of fate. Sensing the shift in fortune, he looked up at the sky, his expression hardening.

The officers nearby noticed the change in the Marquis and fell silent, one by one, turning to look at him.

After a long while, the Marquis recovered. Seeing the expectant gazes of his men, he explained, despite his own inner confusion, "There has been a shift in fortune. A moment ago, I sensed someone directing killing intent toward us, but it was repelled by the aura of our army."