Why do I have so many masters?

Opposed to this was the enemy's panic.

Baili Feng surged forward with a single charge, continuously fighting, his Mo Blade swirling in his hand, he had reached a realm in combat he never thought possible.

All he could hear were the sounds of fighting, the shrill clash of weapons, and the heavy thuds of bodies hitting the ground; yet among these chaotic noises, his own breathing became increasingly clear.

The Mo Blade cleaved down, anger roared by the mighty warrior.

With a body full of fierce courage, even if a Seventh Rank warrior stood before him, they would be intimidated by the fierce intent to kill of a veteran, a single slash severing heads, time passing by losing its meaning, Baili Feng knew he was finally getting closer to his target.

His eyes widened, staring intensely at the somewhat panicked commander.

The man was just a youth, or a young adult.

Dressed in luxurious battle armor, behind him stood a strongman bearing the flag.

A blood-red flag billowed behind him; he was about the same age as Baili Feng, but at this moment, facing the approaching Baili Feng, his face was full of panicked fear, shouting foreign words.

Baili Feng's breathing became somewhat rapid.

With each breath, the searing heat seemed to melt away the chill of the Snow Mountain below; he gripped his Mo Blade tightly, slashing through a sea-like path of blood from among the fearless soldiers, his body also beginning to accrue wounds.

Great Qin's Mysterious Armor bore fierce gashes, pain shot through his flesh causing his blood to boil even more, and his combat will soared.

At this moment, he was truly capable of fighting a Seventh Rank, impelled in one vigorous effort, he became nearly unstoppable on this part of the battlefield, his eyes disregarding everything, his vision tinged with red fiercely locked onto his target, determined to cleave the youth dead.

Such an act would surely break the siege, and might even allow a counterattack.

Blood-stained Mysterious Armor, eyes faintly red, with each step forward, there were piles of dead and a sea of blood, his aura was ferocious.

Only ten steps away from the commander, Baili Feng roared, almost a roar, shaking his vitals, activating his Qi Mechanism, the blood-stained Mo Blade, carrying his bravery thrust to this point, used all the furious intent of his unwillingness to retreat, cleaving forward.

High-speed motion flung the blood off the blade, shiny and sharp, aimed directly at the youth.

Time seemed to stand still.

At that moment, that sharp blade edge caught all the attention on the battlefield.

Just then, Baili Feng's gaze suddenly dropped, the horse beneath him neighed and collapsed.

The Mo Blade in his hand naturally lost its aim, it shattered two men, but only managed to strike the seat of the young commander, scaring him pale, retreating repeatedly, leaning against the flagpole.

The blood-red flag fluttered wildly, rustling loudly.

Almost instantly, hearing the roar, spears thrust fiercely from the hands of the surrounding soldiers.

Baili Feng wanted to resist, but he found himself exhausted from the fighting, not yet recovered, his body in severe pain, suddenly stiffened as his eyes moved slightly, his gaze falling on a foreign man beside the youth.

The latter holding a Curved Saber, opened his mouth, but the words he said could barely be heard by Baili Feng, only seeing the foreign master soberly salute him.

The soldiers wielding spears stepped back three paces.

Then they fiercely stepped forward again.

The blood-stained spear points entered his body once more.

Baili Feng's body violently shivered, blood flowing from his mouth.

Surrounding him, rapid breaths could be heard, all the soldiers unconsciously relaxed, but at this moment, Baili Feng, with his left hand raised abruptly, grabbed the spear that had pierced his body, and roared out.

His last physical strength erupted, the Mo Blade in his hand, never loosened, lifted again, turning into a stream of light like a fighter's ribbon.

This moment seemed to take him back to his youth.

Anfeng was reading in the Scripture Pavilion; Brother Xue was comprehending the sword at the foot of the mountain; he sat on the mountaintop blowing in the mountain breeze, looking at the Qingfeng Sword Scripture spread out on his knees, scratching his head, not yet having to ponder the future battles, not quite understanding the words in the book.

He understood now...

Each word was precious.

The low hum of the blade.

This instant of bright blade light was indeed the peak of his life.

The foreign man's expression drastically changed, feeling a riveting chill, an unstoppable fear rising, grabbed the youth under the Commander's Flag, and fiercely retreated several meters.

A flash of cold light passed, several heads flew up around.

Those enemy soldiers holding long spears all fell, the surrounding soldiers were shocked, holding their weapons, but no longer daring to come closer, the remaining few of the Great Qin Iron Cavalry looked grief-stricken, looking at Baili Feng whose whole body was drenched in blood in his Mysterious Armor.

With a clang, the Mo Blade supported itself on the ground.

Baili Feng staggered a bit, then strained to straighten his body, the sound of the wind faintly came to his ears, it was very soft, hissing slightly like the sound of a gentle breeze blowing through bamboo leaves outside the Wind Character Tower.

The dream he had fantasized about in the camp today somehow became vague and remote.

What was his daughter's name?

It hadn't been chosen yet.

He felt some regret in his heart, but this was ultimately his choice, his vision gradually blurring, gripping the Mo Blade tightly, stubbornly refusing to let his body collapse, seemingly hearing shouts of protest and unwilling cries in his ears.

"General..."

That voice gradually faded with the wind, in the blurred depths of his memory, a rough voice rang out faintly but accompanied by the loud sound of long spears touching the ground, gradually resonating in his ears.

"Sturdy Qin..."

Baili Feng's throat released a final unwilling low chant.

His vision succumbed to darkness.

Suddenly he heard a sharp snapping sound, the blood-colored Commander's Flag broke right in the middle directly, like an arrow-hit bird, fluttering as it fell to the ground.