Three Kingdoms: Conquer Wu from Maicheng with Cavalry and Swords, Don't Fall Behind

The rising crescent moon was pure and bright, adorning the snow-white earth and city walls with a serene and cool hue.

Zhou Cang, holding the heavy broadsword, eagerly claimed credit: "My lord, I have repaired the crescent blade."

The Martial Saint Shen Yi took it and seemingly casually slashed, creating a strong sense of tearing through the air.

Wang Fu and Zhao Lei were both startled, their bodies instinctively leaning back, their faces turning slightly pale. The power of the crescent blade was truly terrifying.

It's hard to imagine the despair the enemy felt when facing the crescent blade. Jiang Qin and Han Dang did not die unjustly.

The Martial Saint praised him from the bottom of his heart: "Well done, Zhou Cang, you are truly a useful person."

Zhou Cang chuckled foolishly, puffed out his chest, and obediently tilted half his face to the side.

The Martial Saint strode towards the training ground, familiarizing himself with his long-lost swordsmanship.

A series of angry shouts swept through the moonlight. The woman brandished her sword, then suddenly twisted her body and unleashed a powerful feint, her eyes fixed on Guan Yu. The subtle nuance of "Please enlighten me" was conveyed so vividly.

The Martial Saint smiled calmly, gripped his Green Dragon Crescent Blade tightly, and exuded an invincible aura. An underlying sense of danger emanated from him.

Guan Yinping moved with lightning speed, her long sword slashing and attacking. Blades clashed, sparks flying everywhere.

The Martial Saint moved with his will, and his unshakeable aura pressed down.

With a clang, Guan Yinping's longsword slipped from her hand, and her aura was suppressed. Her bones made a slight sound as she immersed herself in an almost self-destructive training session.

"I lost."

Guan Yinping has good martial arts talent, possesses immense strength, and has always been diligent. In less than three years, she will definitely surpass Guan Ping.

The Martial Saint stroked his magnificent beard and said, "All the heroes under heaven who hear my name tremble with fear. The fact that you dared to draw your sword against me shows that you have overcome your own inferiority complex."

Guan Yinping, with a heroic air, clasped her hands in a fist and said, "I know this is a challenge, not a life-or-death duel. On a real battlefield, I am no match for my father."

The Martial Saint nodded and said nothing more, then brandished his crescent blade, which whistled through the wind.

Guan Yinping wielded her sword with composure, her mind becoming clearer. Her father, nearing sixty, had worked tirelessly day and night to achieve his current success. She wanted to follow in his footsteps and join the fray, but she still needed to work hard.

Qi Ye watched the graceful figures dancing on the training ground, finding it a unique sight.

Damn cultivation system, when will it be released?!

Upgrade, upgrade, it still has to be a solid, steady, and meticulous upgrade.

Soon, the moon hung high in the sky. The cramped territory, the uncaptured targets, the advancing military merits, and the experience gained from leveling up—all these things tangled in the player's mind like a knotted tangle.

The ancient hunting instinct, dormant deep within our genes, surges through our entire body like an electric current.

"I'm leaving the city." The Martial Saint sheathed his sword, switched to his bow, and headed towards the Wu camp.

With the aid of a small map for early warning and night vision, Guan Yu was invincible in night battles.

The piercing sound of air being torn apart howled, carrying a bone-chilling cold that penetrated into the enemy's head.

A five-man sentry post was wiped out.

"Wu Jun's sentry post has suddenly become five people. How petty," Qi Ye thought to himself.

The Martial Saint stepped forward, touched the corpse, and laboriously pulled out seven five-zhu coins, weighing them in his hand.

"Many a little makes a mickle."

The Martial Saint, full of energy, went on to the next sentry post, enjoying himself immensely.

He moved with incredible speed, faster than a typical warhorse, and his movements were decisive and graceful.

Wu Jun tried to escape, hide, and ambush, but all his attempts failed.

After a night of grinding, the Martial Saint's kill count reached [912], successfully leveling up to level nine, and his health and vitality became stronger and stronger.

Even if Xiang Yu were reborn, he would be no match for Guan Yu. Even if Lü Bu, his body crackling with black lightning, jumped down from Hulao Pass, Guan Yu could still hold his own for a couple of moves.

Qi Ye's lips curled up slightly: "Let's go all out and reach level ten in one go, and see if our combat power will undergo a qualitative change."

A powerful horn sound suddenly rang out, sending shivers down one's spine.

"It's not even dawn yet, is Wu Camp haunted?" Qi Ye asked, puzzled.

After much deliberation, the Martial Saint strolled back to Maicheng, glancing back at the eastern sky where a faint white light was beginning to appear.

When everyone saw Guan Yu return, they immediately felt reassured and had a pillar of support.

Guan Ping clasped his hands in a resounding fist and reported: "The scouts have reported that the Wu army is making fires and cooking, presumably preparing to attack the city at dawn."

Despite the freezing weather, Lü Mengzhen was truly willing to invest heavily. It seems he was also afraid that if there were grain supplies at Maicheng, a major crisis might occur.

"Kill two horses to reward the army and prepare for battle," the Martial Saint said generously.

In ancient times, warhorses were a strategic resource, and their quality directly determined the mobility, charge, and victory or defeat of the army. Hence the saying, "Horses are the foundation of armor and weapons."

A fine horse is worth the equivalent of the assets of dozens of farmers and can be exchanged for a house in Chengdu; it is extremely precious.

The Martial Saint captured over a dozen warhorses, which he slaughtered without a second thought. The live warhorses consumed more food than the soldiers, wasting grain in the process.

Qi Ye was determined not to surrender or retreat, and was determined to hold Maicheng no matter what. The morale of the army was of paramount importance.

The defending soldiers lit fires and cooked, gradually realizing something, and clearly declared their determination to die: "If Guan Yu doesn't retreat, I won't retreat either; death is the only option."

Guan Ping stepped forward and counted the three hundred elite cavalry and infantry soldiers who dared to form the first wave of defense. He then butchered horses and fed the soldiers until they were well-fed, preparing for the great battle.

The soldiers rested against the city wall, wiping their weapons until they gleamed with a chilling light. They were uncertain, truly uncertain, and the atmosphere was eerily silent.

The Martial Saint raised his crescent blade and slashed down through the air, his hunger and thirst unbearable.

Qi Ye, who was initially a little sleepy, is now wide awake. The thought of experienced soldiers rushing up one after another to exchange swords makes him smile even in his dreams.

Everyone looked towards Guan Yu, their minds calming down slightly. The crescent blade made another feint, devoid of any flashy moves, yet captivating.

Even if the sky falls, Guan Yu is there to hold it up; there's nothing to be afraid of.

Beneath the city walls, a scout, pursued, fled back in a disheveled state.

"Report! Wu's troops are assembling and will arrive at the city walls in half an hour!"

A cold wind blew, and a tense atmosphere permeated the city walls.

The Martial Saint nodded calmly, uttered an "Mmm," and unleashed a horizontal slash with his sword. He maintained his posture for a moment, standing tall and firm like a lone pine tree.

The garrison watched Guan Yu wield his sword, conserving his energy, and occasionally cheered and applauded.

The laborers carried bucket after bucket of cold water up the city wall, preparing to give the enemy a surprise.

"Attack the city in this freezing weather, the Wu army is truly reckless. If we hold out for just one hour, the Wu army will surely retreat; no one can withstand the might of Heaven."

The waiting time passed in a flash. First, the flag's corner cracked in the wind, and then the earth began to groan—not a tremor, but a muffled sigh rising from the depths of people's hearts.

Wu Jun's front rank of cavalry lowered their lances, pressing towards Maicheng. The tips of their lances formed a chilling, slightly trembling line, like the teeth of a giant beast baring its teeth.

There were no shouts of killing, only the increasingly urgent, dense sound of footsteps that eventually rolled into a thundercloud. The will of every individual was drained away and forged into a pure, forward-moving torrent.

Lu Meng wore a white robe, his neck as thick as his head, and he seemed poised to unleash a powerful muscular force at any moment. His armor gleamed with a chilling, almost slashing light.

The torrent that broke its banks was completely under his command, advancing with a resolute and crushing force.