Fantasy: I, the Great Celestial Venerable of the Dao

Sima Cuo rode at the forefront, his divine sense spreading out like a net, constantly alert to his surroundings.

The more than twenty knights behind him completely surrounded the carriage.

Everyone had their hands on their sword hilts, their breaths taut like bowstrings.

Inside the carriage, Ying Zheng sat cross-legged.

He was dressed in a simple black cloth robe, with a seemingly ordinary longsword at his waist.

His face was still quite young, but his eyes were frighteningly calm.

It lacked the liveliness and curiosity that a fifteen-year-old should have; there was only a bottomless calm.

It was as if they had already seen through life and death, honor and disgrace, and understood the treacherous nature of human hearts.

Suddenly, Sima Cuo reined in his warhorse and raised his hand to signal.

The entire group came to an abrupt halt; you could hear a pin drop.

"Who are you, friend? Now that you've come, why hide yourself?"

Sima Cuo's voice was like iron, echoing through the canyon.

Dead silence.

Only the wind howled, like the wailing of ghosts and wolves.

But the next moment!

"call out!"

A sharp, piercing sound suddenly rang out from the cliff on the left!

That wasn't an arrow, but a jet-black finger strike that was as solid as a physical object.

Swift as lightning, it struck the carriage window!

"Protect the young master!"

Sima Cuo roared, his body shooting into the sky like a cannonball, and unleashed a punch!

The fist wind transformed into a crimson-gold tiger phantom, roaring as it crashed into the finger strike!

"boom!"

The force of the fingers clashed with the force of the fist, unleashing a deafening roar!

The shockwave swept across the canyon, causing rocks to fall from the cliffs on both sides.

Almost simultaneously, eleven figures appeared from different directions: the cliff to the right, the valley entrance in front, and the path behind!

They floated in mid-air, hidden in the shadows.

Each person possessed an incredibly powerful aura.

The weakest among them was at the peak of the early stage of the Celestial Immortal realm, while the three strongest had reached the mid-stage of the Celestial Immortal realm!

Eleven celestial beings joined forces to besiege him!

"ah!!!"

A scream rang out.

Among the Qin guards, three knights at the Earth Immortal level were struck by a sudden blade of energy.

The man and his horse were cleaved in two, blood splattering and staining the canyon floor red.

"Form ranks!" Sima Cuo shouted, his eyes blazing with fury.

The remaining knights quickly retreated, forming a circular formation around the carriage.

Everyone drew their swords, and the sword energy intertwined to form a net, protecting the carriage within.

But faced with the oppressive aura of eleven celestial beings, the sword formation was like a candle flickering in the wind, teetering on the verge of collapse.

Sima Cuo returned to the front of the carriage, his face as solemn as iron.

He clenched his right hand, and a seven-foot-long battle sword with blood-red patterns on its blade appeared out of thin air.

It was his natal weapon, the Blood-Drinking Blade.

"Haha, Sima Cuo, I didn't expect it would be you who personally took action this time."

A cold, arrogant laugh came from mid-air.

The speaker was a man around thirty years old, dressed in the animal skin armor unique to the Yuan Kingdom.

His face was arrogant, and his eyes were sharp as an eagle's.

It was Wang Baobao, a general of the Yuan Kingdom and a powerful expert in the mid-stage of the Celestial Immortal realm.

Sima Cuo's pupils contracted slightly: "Wang Baobao, how dare you! The Yuan Kingdom... do you want to die?"

"How arrogant!" Wang Baobao sneered, his gaze passing over Sima Cuo and locking onto the black carriage.

"Ying Zheng...it really is you. Good, good, good!"

Today is your death day!

Inside the carriage, Ying Zheng remained seated cross-legged.

He didn't even lift the curtain, he just looked through the crack in the window.

He calmly looked at the arrogant figure in mid-air.

His eyes remained calm and unwavering, as if the other party was not trying to kill him, but rather an insignificant passerby.

This composure beyond his years gave Wang Baobao a strange unease.

It was a kind of... unease.

He quickly suppressed this absurd feeling and mocked himself inwardly:

No matter how extraordinary the other party is, he is currently just a child without any cultivation.

In my eyes, it is nothing more than an ant that I can crush with a flick of my wrist.

"Hmph, you think you can take me on?"

Sima Cuo gave a cold snort, keeping a close watch on Wang Baobao while glancing at the other ten people out of the corner of his eye.

He didn't even consider Wang Baobao a threat. But one...

"Of course, it's not just because of this general," Wang Baobao sneered.

"General Sima, it's been a long time!" A laugh, like that of an old friend reuniting, rang out.

He was a middle-aged man dressed as a scholar, holding a feather fan and smiling.

But a cold glint flashed in his eyes—Guo Kai, a strategist from the State of Zhao.

"It has indeed been a long time," another voice, calm yet laced with murderous intent, replied.

"It's a pity, though, that's the last time we'll meet."

The speaker was a swordsman in black, carrying a heavy sword and exuding a sharp aura; he was Cao Qiudao, the Sword Saint of Wei.

"Sima Cuo, today is your death day."

The burly barbarian from the State of Chu pounded his chest, the sound like muffled thunder.

"Ying Zheng... I never imagined that the credit for killing you would fall into my hands."

A master of Yin-Yang philosophy from the State of Qi, his fingertips swirling with black and white energies.

"..."

Eleven voices rang out in succession.

Each one represents a celestial being, and the will of a nation.

Eleven powerful auras, like eleven mountains, pressed down simultaneously!

The air inside the canyon instantly froze, as if the space itself had been frozen.

The Qin guards groaned, and those with weaker cultivation levels had blood trickling from the corners of their mouths.

Sima Cuo's face flushed red, and his veins bulged.

He gripped the Blood-Drinking Blade tightly, the blade humming.

In a one-on-one fight, he was confident he could kill either of them.

One against eleven... he only has one outcome.

dead!

As a general of the Qin Dynasty, he was not afraid of death.

But he was afraid of failing the mission, afraid of ruining the future of Qin, and afraid of betraying His Majesty's trust.

The boy inside the carriage represents the future of the Qin Dynasty.

"That's... quite bold."

Sima Cuo gritted his teeth and forced out four words. At the same time, he secretly transmitted his voice to Ying Zheng inside the carriage:

"Young master, I will burn my life essence and fight my way out for you."

Don't worry about anything, just keep heading west until you enter the territory of China, then you'll be safe!

Inside the carriage, Ying Zheng remained silent for a moment before replying with two words: "General..."

The voice was soft, yet it carried a certain indescribable power.

"Sima Cuo," the scholar Guo Kai said, waving his feather fan, his tone "sincere."

"Considering your heroic past, if you withdraw now, we will not make things difficult for you. In fact…"

"I can spare the lives of your men."

Although the other ten people did not speak, they clearly reached a consensus through their exchange of glances.

Their target was Ying Zheng, not Sima Cuo.

If we can subdue the enemy without fighting, that would be the best outcome.

"Ridiculous." Sima Cuo sneered, his laughter filled with resolute determination.

"Even if I, the general, die here today, so what, so what?"

And you...

They definitely won't live much longer.

The iron cavalry of my Great Qin will trample your land.

"The God of Slaughter of my Great Qin will exterminate your entire clan!"

"You're about to die, yet you still dare to talk so arrogantly!" Wang Baobao shouted, his eyes blazing with murderous intent.

Among the remaining ten people, several had shifty eyes.

Clearly, the words "God of Slaughter" had touched him.

But the arrow was already on the bowstring, and it had to be released.

"No need for further words," said Cao Qiu, the black-clad swordsman, coldly. "Kill Ying Zheng quickly, lest things get complicated."

"Let's do it!"