Ming Dynasty: Gain one supernatural power every day

When the Ming army's vanguard emerged from the mist, the Annamese defenders on the gate were completely dumbfounded.

On the ground, several lions with bushy manes roared as they stepped out of the mist, followed by rows of rhinoceroses and war elephants.

The clouds dispersed, revealing several figures in the sky—two people riding tigers and clouds, a commander in golden armor carrying a rake, and a young man reclining on a cloud chair.

It turns out that what those people who escaped back said was true.

The Annamese soldiers on the city wall dropped their weapons with a clang, and some slumped down behind the battlements, staring blankly at the white clouds that were drifting closer and closer in the sky.

The opponents are all gods, how can we fight them?

"Fourth brother, father, marshal, look at these Annamese barbarians—they're terrified!" Zhu Gaoxu rode on the back of the Fierce Tiger King, holding the jade token firmly in his hand. He grinned as he pointed the camera at the disoriented Annamese soldiers on the gate wall.

He yelled at the top of his lungs towards the city wall, "Annam barbarians, are you dumbfounded now! Quickly come out of the city to fight, or surrender immediately, your grandpa is still busy!"

"Yes, Annamite barbarians, get out of the city quickly!" Zhang Fu shouted from below, his voice booming so loudly that dust fell from the walls.

"Annam barbarians, get down here and die!" Zheng Heng retorted defiantly.

"Annam savages, surrender now and we might spare your lives, or we'll slaughter you all!" Qiu Fu roared from his rhinoceros.

He shouted the loudest, after all, he had been stationed on the front lines in Annam for several months and had long been seething with anger at these fickle barbarians.

The soldiers behind him also shouted in unison, the sound waves crashing against the gate wall one after another, causing the rubble in the cracks of the wall to tumble down.

Annamese General Nguyen Van Trung stood behind the battlements, his face ashen.

Hearing about it is one thing, but actually seeing it with your own eyes is another.

He had been sitting in his tent listening to the scouts describe the golden-armored general, who was taller than the sky and could flatten the jungle with a single rake. Although he already believed it to some extent, he still held onto a sliver of hope.

What if the scouts were mistaken? What if it was miasma? What if it was a smokescreen set up by the Ming army?

Zhu Gaoxu: No, brother, why are you talking about so many "what ifs"? Why don't you just say "what if" I am your father?

But at this moment, the fierce tiger with piercing eyes and a white forehead was standing on a cloud looking down at him, the golden-armored general was standing on the cloud carrying a nine-toothed rake, and the army riding rhinoceroses and elephants was lined up in a dark mass below the pass.

There were no "what ifs." All the "what ifs" shattered into dust at this moment.

He wanted to surrender; his soldiers might survive, but he himself might not.

The Ming army might pardon ordinary Annamese soldiers, but they would show no mercy to a commander who had repeatedly defected. He was aware of this.

Zhu Gaoxi: Why the hell are you acting so dramatic? If you want to die, just say so.

"It's all sorcery! It's all sorcery! Quick—fire the arrows! Shoot them down!" Nguyen Van Trung shouted hoarsely, his voice becoming hurried with fear.

"General, this—this…" The soldiers on the city wall, holding bows and arrows, looked at each other, their bowstrings trembling and arrows wobbling, unable to aim at their targets.

The other side is a god! Shoot a god with a bow and arrow? What's the difference between that and poking the sky with a bamboo pole?

"Draw the bow! Shoot the arrow! It's all a smokescreen—otherwise you'll be dealt with according to military law!" Nguyen Van Trung roared, veins bulging on his forehead, spitting all over the faces of the soldiers in the front row.

The soldiers were still hesitating, their bowstrings trembling more violently than leaves in the wind.

A glint of madness flashed in Nguyen Van Trung's eyes. He drew his sword and slashed down the hesitant archer beside him.

Blood splattered on the crenellations and flowed down the city bricks. The archer didn't even have time to utter a sound before he fell to the ground, his bow and arrows rolling into the pool of blood.

Ruan Wenzhong, his face contorted with rage, brandished a blood-dripping knife and roared, "What are you still hesitating for? Even if we surrender, do you think the Ming army will let us go? Shoot!"

The soldiers trembled at the sudden slaughter and dared not hesitate any longer. They mustered their courage, drew their bows, and aimed shakily at the figures in the air and the generals below the city.

When Zhu Gaoxu saw that these Annamese people actually had the courage to draw their bows and arrows, he instinctively wanted to back away. He had fought for half his life, and the instinct to retreat when he saw a bowstring fully drawn was ingrained in his bones.

But as soon as he leaned back halfway, he caught a glimpse of Pigsy carrying a rake and the fourth brother reclining on a cloud chair, and he straightened his back again.

With two gods by my side, what do I have to fear? He coughed lightly, raised his chin at the archers on the city gate, and said in a louder voice than before, "Annam barbarians, you're courting death."

Zhu Di, standing to the side, saw Zhu Gaoxu's forced composure and the corners of his mouth curved slightly.

They're still too young; their bodies are faster than their brains.

"Old Zhang, should we step back a bit? These arrows might hit us." Zheng Heng said to Zhang Fu in a low voice, his hand unconsciously gripping the lion saddle, ready to retreat at any moment.

"If you want to withdraw, withdraw yourself. Look who's up there. What are you afraid of? What are you withdrawing from?" Zhang Fu held the jade tablet in one hand and then pointed upwards with his eyes to Zheng Heng.

With Marshal Tianpeng and Prince Rui standing atop the clouds, what is there to fear from a few broken arrows?

Zheng Heng followed his gaze, silently removed his hand from the reins, and straightened his back.

Zhu Gaoxi had already made preparations.

With a wave of his hand, four gourds appeared out of thin air in front of him.

The first lightning-struck wooden gourd had lightning patterns shimmering on its surface, and a faint rumbling of thunder could be heard coming from its mouth, indicating that it was meant to summon lightning to strike people.

The second fiery red gourd is entirely crimson, with wisps of hot air rising from its mouth, capable of releasing intense flames to burn people.

The third frozen gourd was entirely ice-blue and emitted a visible chill; it was truly freezing.

The fourth, dark green alchemy gourd, capable of refining human essence pills, hung quietly at the far end. The four gourds floated in front of him, each occupying a different spot, their colors varying, reflecting distinctly different rays of light in the sunlight.

"Release the arrows!" At Nguyen Van Trung's command, arrows from the city wall finally left the bowstring, shooting densely into the air and down below the city.

Zhu Gaoxi thought to himself: This is not my fault. Next, I will formally invite you to experience the underworld.

If they surrendered, it would have been a little awkward to kill them. After all, you can't hit someone who's smiling at you. If you kill them after they're begging for mercy, it wouldn't sound good if word got out.

Now that the other side has fired the arrow first, he's saved himself the trouble of mentally preparing himself.

"Brother, shall I, Old Pig, lend a hand?" Pigsy asked, tilting his head as he carried his rake.

"For now, Marshal, there's no need for you to take action. Let me test these supernatural powers and magical treasures." Zhu Gaoxi smiled slightly and raised his hand to activate the Light of Time.

An invisible ripple spread out from the clouds, and the rapidly flying arrows suddenly stopped in mid-air, their shafts beginning to decay at a visible speed.

First, the fletching withered and fell off, then the shaft turned yellow and became brittle, and finally the arrowhead became rusty. The whole arrow seemed to have had decades of life taken away in an instant.

Immediately afterwards, the arrow shaft shattered, and the arrowhead turned into powder, which scattered in the air without even reaching the city wall.

Countless arrows turned into wisps of gray smoke in the air between the city walls and the clouds, and with a gust of wind, not even a trace remained.