At 100 years old, he joined the army in place of his granddaughter, and became a national war god.

"It's time to leave the city and meet the enemy."

Qin Hao's eyes lit up, and the fighting spirit that had been building up in his chest for so long finally found an outlet.

Zhou Huchen rubbed his hands together excitedly and grabbed the long knife leaning against the wall.

The captains and centurions behind him were also eager to rush down the city wall.

"The fight is finally about to begin!"

"We've been holding back for so long, let those northern barbarians keep being arrogant!"

"With Elder Su personally taking charge, let's see how long that barbarian can keep jumping around!"

Su Mu raised his hand to silence the commotion, his voice hoarse yet steady.

"Vanguard Battalion, listen to my command! As previously ordered, each of you take your assigned weapons and follow me out of the city to meet the enemy."

"Yes, sir!"

The vanguard battalion of three thousand soldiers responded in unison, their voices shaking the heavens.

The city gate slowly opened, and the drawbridge creaked down, crashing onto the opposite bank of the moat, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Su Mu rode on his Akhal-Teke horse, leading the way.

Behind him, three thousand vanguard soldiers marched out in formation, with swordsmen and shieldmen in front, spearmen behind, and archers and crossbowmen spread out on both flanks.

The Mo Dao (陌刀) fighters were in the third row, each wielding a ten-foot-long Mo Dao, its blade gleaming and reflecting a blinding cold light in the sunlight.

The soldiers of the Great Qian Dynasty stood tall and proud, their eyes blazing.

There was no fear in their eyes, only a burning desire to kill the enemy.

On the city wall, thousands of defenders beat war drums, and the sound of horns tore through the sky.

"Thump...thump...thump...!"

The war drums thundered, each beat striking the heart of every person, shaking the very earth.

The vanguard of three thousand men marched out of the city with the imposing presence of thirty thousand.

On the opposite side, the 50,000-strong Northern Di army remained completely silent.

As Man Tu rode his horse, he watched the white figure slowly emerge from the city gate. He saw the white-haired, hunched old man riding a white horse, carrying a precious sword, and walking unhurriedly towards the front of the formation. His eyes were filled with excitement.

It's the kind of excitement a hunter feels when his prey finally emerges from its burrow.

"Old man!" Barbarian Butcher laughed loudly, his rough and unrestrained laughter echoing across the wilderness. "You've finally come out to face your death! I thought you were going to hide behind the city walls like a turtle for the rest of your life!"

He raised his iron spear, the tip pointing directly at Su Mu, his voice like thunder.

"Today, I, the general, will personally sever your head and hang it on the flagpole, so that all the people of Daqian may see the consequences of opposing the Northern Barbarians!"

Behind them, 50,000 Northern Di soldiers shouted in unison, their voices like a mountain roaring and a tsunami crashing.

"General Barbarian Slaughter is mighty!"

"Kill Su Mu! Flatten Yuzhou!"

The barbarian owl sat on his horse, his hawk-like eyes fixed on the white figure.

His hand slowly reached for the giant bow on his back.

His bow could shoot five hundred paces, and Su Mu was only four hundred paces away from him, within his range.

Barbarian Owl slowly drew an arrow, nocked it on the bowstring, and slightly opened the bow arm, aiming the arrow tip at Su Mu's head.

The barbarian noticed his movement and suddenly raised his hand, signaling him to stop.

"No need."

"I will kill him with my own hands, and in front of the entire army, I will pluck his head off with a single spear thrust."

"What war god, what 'one-slash kill Yeluqi'? I, the general, will show them that such fabricated myths are worthless in front of me, the Barbarian Butcher."

Barbarian Owl's lips curled slightly upward as he put away his bow and arrows and let out a sinister laugh.

"Very well, it would be more intimidating for the eldest brother to kill him with his own hands than to shoot him with an arrow."

Tuoba Han, mounted on his horse, watched this scene with a satisfied smile on his lips.

"Although Su Mu is only the head of a cook battalion, his prestige in the army has actually surpassed that of Qin Hao."

"He is the soul of this army, their backbone. If we kill him, the Great Qian army will surely collapse."

Manxiao nodded.

"Your Highness is right. With Su Mu dead, the Great Qian army is leaderless and nothing to fear."

……

On the battlefield, the two armies were arrayed, hundreds of paces apart, their banners facing each other, their killing intent soaring to the sky.

Qin Hao rode up to Su Mu's side, clasped his hands in a fist salute, and said, "Elder Su, this humble general requests permission to fight! Let this humble general go and meet that barbarian slayer again!"

Su Mu shook his head.

"No need. General Qin and the barbarian are evenly matched for the time being."

Even if we fight again, we still can't kill him.

Qin Hao was stunned for a moment, a hint of resentment showing on his face, but he knew that Su Mu was telling the truth.

Although he hadn't used his full strength in those twenty rounds, he was well aware of Man Tu's abilities.

Strength, speed, and marksmanship are all superior to his.

If it really comes down to it, he won't last more than fifty rounds.

Su Mu smiled slightly, a profound meaning flashing in his eyes.

"Let this old man kill him with a single stroke; it'll save time and effort!"

He spurred his horse, and the Akhal-Teke steed strode forward slowly toward the front of the formation.

After walking a dozen steps, I stopped.

His white hair fluttered in the wind, his hunched body leaned slightly forward on the horse's back, and the Dragon-Slaying Saber lay across the saddle.

Man Tu also rode forward and stood opposite Su Mu in the open space between the two armies.

The two were no more than fifty paces apart.

One old and one strong, one white and one black.

The barbarian sizing up Su Mu was full of disdain.

"Old man, you have some guts. I thought you would hide behind the city walls and send those little minions out to their deaths. I didn't expect you to come out yourself."

Su Mu didn't speak, he just looked at him calmly.

The barbarian continued, "I've heard that your swordsmanship is very skilled, that you cleaved Yeluqi in two with a single stroke. Today, I, the general, will see just how good your swordsmanship really is."

"This general will use the spear in his hand to show you the power of the direct disciple of the Northern Barbarian Spear God."

Su Mu's lips curled up slightly as he finally spoke.

"You boast of your unparalleled marksmanship, then this old man will test your marksmanship against you today."

Barbarian Tu was taken aback, then burst into laughter.

"Hahaha! Old man, are you crazy? You dare to compare your marksmanship with this general? I started learning to shoot at five, roamed the grasslands at fifteen, and was taken as the last disciple of the grassland gun god at twenty! You, a mere old farmer, dare to compare your marksmanship with this general?"

He even turned around and shouted at the Northern Di soldiers behind him.

"Brothers, did you hear that? This old man wants to challenge me to a marksmanship contest! Hahaha!"

The 50,000 Northern Di soldiers joined in the laughter and jeers, the sounds of laughter and mockery mingling together like a tidal wave.

"Old man, can you even lift a gun?"

"Don't strain your back before you even raise the gun!"

"Is Daqian out of talent? Sending a centenarian to compete in a gunfight? That's hilarious!"

Su Mu ignored the taunts and simply turned his head slightly to look at Qin Hao behind him.

"General Qin, may I borrow your spear?"

Qin Hao's heart tightened, and worry appeared on his face.

He hesitated for a moment, then spurred his horse forward and said in a low voice, "Old Su, don't be fooled! This barbarian slayer is a disciple of the Northern Di Spear God, his spear skills are divine. You've never demonstrated your spear skills in the army before... what if..."

Zhou Huchen also came over, sweating profusely with anxiety.

"Yes, Elder Su, your swordsmanship is unparalleled. Just fight him with your sword! Why bother competing with him in spear fighting? That barbarian is just trying to provoke you, making you attack his strength with your weakness!"

Su Mu smiled slightly, without the slightest hesitation in his eyes.

"It's alright, I know what I'm doing."

He reached out his hand to Qin Hao, his withered fingers slightly spread.

Qin Hao gritted his teeth, took the spear from the saddle, and handed it over with both hands.

That spear was made entirely of fine iron, with a bright white tip and a jet-black shaft. It was heavy in the hand, weighing at least forty or fifty pounds.

"Mr. Su, please be careful."

Su Mu took the spear and weighed it in his hand.

"It's a good gun."

"It's just too light."

Qin Hao opened his mouth, almost choking on his words.

This spear weighs forty-eight jin (approximately 33 catties), and no more than ten people in the army can wield it with one hand.

Is it too lenient to say that Su Mu is a centenarian?

He and Zhou Huchen turned their horses and retreated back into the formation.

"General Qin," Zhou Huchen lowered his voice, "if Elder Su's situation worsens, we'll rush out immediately and give him the Dragon-Slaying Saber!"

Qin Hao nodded.

"Always ready."

……

On the battlefield, Su Mu held his gun in one hand, the tip pointing diagonally at the ground, and calmly looked at the barbarian slayer.

Man Tu stared at Su Mu's posture of holding the gun with one hand, and the corners of his mouth turned up.

However, he did not underestimate his opponent.

He wanted to go all out, preferably to end the old man with a single shot.

He took a deep breath, raised his iron spear, and pointed the tip directly at Su Mu's throat.

"Old man, you want to compete with me in marksmanship? You're asking for it!"

The black warhorse neighed loudly, its four hooves flying, and charged towards Su Mu like a black lightning bolt.

The iron spear was raised high, its tip gleaming, drawing a blinding, cold light in the sunlight.

Su Mu did not move. He was riding his Ferghana horse, his body hunched over, holding his spear in one hand, the tip still pointing diagonally at the ground.

On the battlefield, tens of thousands of eyes were fixed on this scene.