Chapter Fifty-One: Gathering of the Mighty!

“Liu Qingchang, you cannot protect the Millennium Spirit Herb. You might as well hand it over to me,” Gao Chenzhong said in a deep voice after catching his breath and calming the tumultuous energy in his body. His gaze lingered on the room behind Liu Qingchang. “Once I become a Marshal, I will not treat you all unfairly.”

“This path is blocked!” Liu Qingchang stood before Gao Chenzhong, his chest heaving violently, hands gripping his twin blades, trembling ever so slightly.

“Hmph! You are not the only one vying for the treasure,” Gao Chenzhong retorted coldly, moving aside to rest and recover his strength.

Suddenly, a thunderous crash resounded as a giant man, over two meters tall, with a body as sturdy as bronze and wielding dual hammers, smashed through the wall and entered the room.

“Bronze Corpse Heng Jinbiao!”

“How did he get drawn here?”

Hidden in the shadows, Chen Haicheng and Yun Qing’s pupils contracted in terror, their faces betraying fear and dread. Heng Jinbiao’s reputation was infamous: his bronze-like body was impervious to harm, and he had once faced an encirclement by three Marshals, killing two and gravely wounding the third. The critically injured man fled, but succumbed to his wounds three days later.

Gao Chenzhong’s eyes were filled with wariness as he gripped his sword tighter and edged away from Heng Jinbiao. Liu Qingchang, knowing well of Heng Jinbiao’s fearsome might, was equally grave, sweat pooling in his palms as he faced the overwhelming pressure emanating from the bronze giant.

“The Millennium Spirit Herb is mine. The rest of you, leave!” Heng Jinbiao declared, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, pausing briefly on Liu Qingchang and Gao Chenzhong.

“This path is blocked!” Liu Qingchang drew a deep breath, suppressing his fear, and raised his blades defensively.

“Courting death!” Heng Jinbiao’s eyes narrowed with displeasure. He stomped the ground, leaving a gaping pit, then lunged at Liu Qingchang with ferocious speed.

As Heng Jinbiao closed in, he let out a guttural growl, leaped into the air, and brought his twin hammers crashing down upon Liu Qingchang.

Liu Qingchang did not attempt to counterattack. He knew of Heng Jinbiao’s exploits—his bronze skin was as resilient as a Marshal’s, impervious to ordinary blades and spears.

Conventional weapons might break the skin but could not truly wound Heng Jinbiao. If he took a direct blow, his body would be reduced to pulp.

With a deafening bang, Liu Qingchang brought his twin blades together, bracing them before him against Heng Jinbiao’s onslaught.

Blood spurted from Liu Qingchang’s mouth as Heng Jinbiao’s hammers struck, the force surging through his entire body and sending him staggering back over ten paces before he could steady himself.

“Overestimating yourself,” Heng Jinbiao sneered, cracking his neck. He charged again, intent on finishing Liu Qingchang.

“Shoot!” “Stop him!” Yan Chonghu, Shi Tie, Liu Qing, Wang Bao, and Zhao Hu drew their powerful bows from hiding and loosed arrows at Heng Jinbiao, faces pale with fear. Witnessing Liu Qingchang’s stand, they began to believe he was under Lord Qin’s protection and could not stand by as he was slain.

“Out of my way!” Heng Jinbiao bellowed as arrows whistled toward him. He was forced to halt and swung his hammers, deflecting arrow after arrow.

One arrow, however, pierced his defense and struck his chest, drawing blood. Yan Chonghu, Shi Tie, and the others felt a fleeting joy, but it soon turned to heaviness as they realized the arrow had only broken the skin, the shaft falling away as Heng Jinbiao moved.

“Despicable curs, you dare ambush me! After I kill him, I’ll slaughter every one of you!” Heng Jinbiao’s eyes blazed with madness as he swept a chilling glare over Yan Chonghu, Shi Tie, Liu Qing, and Zhao Hu before charging Liu Qingchang once more.

With a steely ring, Gao Chenzhong saw Heng Jinbiao bear down on the wounded Liu Qingchang. Should Liu Qingchang fall, he himself would be no match for Heng Jinbiao, and the Millennium Spirit Herb would certainly be lost to him.

He could not let Liu Qingchang be killed. Moving silently behind Heng Jinbiao, Gao Chenzhong struck with his sword, aiming for his foe’s back.

Sensing the deadly chill at his back, Heng Jinbiao twisted his body aside, swinging a hammer behind him in tandem.

Gao Chenzhong knew well the difference in their strength, defense, and stamina. Failing to land a decisive blow, he retreated swiftly.

“Old Ghost Gao, you’re here for the Spirit Herb as well—why attack me?” Heng Jinbiao glared murderously. He had nearly slain Liu Qingchang moments before.

“Precisely because I, too, seek the Millennium Spirit Herb. If you obtain it, I’ll have no chance of taking it from you,” Gao Chenzhong replied grimly from a distance, his demeanor cautious and wary.

“Old ghost, you’d better hope I don’t get my hands on you, or I’ll smash you to pieces!” Heng Jinbiao shot him a cold glance, then strode purposefully to another corner of the courtyard.

Yan Chonghu quickly moved to Liu Qingchang’s side to bind his torn palms.

An hour passed. Then, a gaunt elder in black robes, wielding a sinister bone-clawed weapon, entered the courtyard. His eyes glowed a sickly green as he surveyed Heng Jinbiao, Gao Chenzhong, Liu Qingchang, Yan Chonghu, and Shi Tie. He settled cross-legged at the side, his gaze flickering.

All present—Heng Jinbiao, Gao Chenzhong, Liu Qingchang, Yun Qing, and Chen Haicheng—showed the same wariness. If Heng Jinbiao was a fearsome brute, then this black-robed elder was a demon incarnate. He cultivated by consuming human blood, absorbing the life essence of others to nourish himself, and called himself Ancestor Blood River.

The Great Chu Dynasty had once sent a Marshal to hunt him down, but the tables turned. Ancestor Blood River killed his pursuer and used the man’s blood to break through to the later Marshal stage.

“Looks like I’m not too late,” Ancestor Blood River sneered. Moments later, another malicious laugh echoed from afar, drawing closer.

A burly man with a brutish face strode in, a massive blood-red saber slung over his shoulder.

“Blood Saber, you dare show yourself? Aren’t you afraid the Great Chu Dynasty’s warriors will track you down and kill you?” Ancestor Blood River rasped.

“Heh, if you—a sack of old bones—aren’t afraid, why should I be?” Blood Saber Demon Lord sneered, his gaze sweeping over Yan Chonghu, Liu Qingchang, and Ancestor Blood River. He licked his lips, a cruel smile playing at his mouth.