Chapter 64 - Fifty Arrows, Fifty Dead

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On the battlefield, soldiers rode their horses into the horizon. Mu Qing raced against the crowd of ghost soldiers, with a fleeting trace of cold across his face. He held his sword, then slashed at the nearby ghost soldiers, who couldn't reach him.

"CHARGE!" He led the Qinghe Nie disciples onto their horses.

Slowly, the grey robed disciples noticed something. Some of the people on the horses didn't wear grey, but rather, white.

"Gusu Lan." The disciples figured it out.

"There's me too!" Ouyang Zizhen slashed at a ghost soldier by his side.

Both Lan Sizhui and Jingyi were surprised. Before they can stare wide-eyed at their friend, two hand slapped at their backs. "Don't let your guard down." Lan Xichen instructed. He brandished his own sword, then swung it cleanly at the ghost soldiers.

The surrounding enemies gradually decreased.

Lan Sizhui spun around, with his white robes sweeping by his feet. He landed on the ground, dodging a narrow attack. "Where is Jin Ling?"

Lan Jingyi blurted, "I saw him going with the archer troop, lead by that one manly Martial God."

Lan Sizhui, "...which one...?"

Lan Jingyi, "...you know, it's that Martial God!"

Lan Sizhui, "Jingyi, you'll have to specify which one. There are at least four Martial Gods on the battlefield right now."

Lan Jingyi, "..." Right. How could he forget.

*****

Jin Ling shuddered.

He traversed on the nearest cliff to the battlefield. He was at least over the height of the highest in a forest. At least the height of a volcano, he thought.

All of a sudden, a hand slapped him on the back. "Stand straight."

Feng Xin looked up ahead. His armour clanked to his every small movement, and every ounce of his muscles brimmed with vitality. Feng Xin truly embodied the look of a General at that moment. He looked like he would be wielding a heavy mace in one hand, used to clubber his enemies to their deaths. However, he didn't. He wielded a mere bow.

Jin Ling's shoulders shook. What is so important about the bow?

They could help deliver arrows at a far range... sure, Jin Ling couldn't help but roll his eyes. But are archers truly important on the battlefield? Am I even needed?

"We're here." Feng Xin stopped, with the troop pausing behind his domineering shadows.

They arrived at the top of the mountain. A cliff hung outwards, allowing the disciples and soldiers see the great scenery in front of them. They were really high above the ground. It made them feel like giants, watching puny ants fight for their lives.

"Take your stance." The disciples aligned themselves into a formation.

They took upon their bows, and attached an arrow to their string. Then, with straight arms and unwavering elbows, the disciples stretched the string, aiming the arrows at the battlefield. But then... they hesitated.

On the battlefield were their comrades. What if they accidentally hit an ally?

"Aim for the ghost soldiers at the back. There are less of your comrades there." Feng Xin commanded. "However, don't fire until I tell you to." His cape flew along with the harsh winds, as if the heavens were trying to blow him away. However, Feng Xin remained unmoved to the winds. He was a Heavenly Official; a Martial God. He could defy the heavens if he wished to.

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