The Disordered Rescue Team (Part Two)

The Chaotic Rescue Party (Part II)

The convoy escorting Wu Hong traversed the towering mountains, and before them lay a turbulent, sandstorm-ridden desert. By now, they were hundreds of miles from Huangyun Town—a testament to its remoteness, and a clear indication of how much Wu Hong mattered to someone.

At last, the Silver-Armored General could finally relax the anxious heart he’d carried all this way. Though the path ahead was arduous, an endless expanse of desert, the wide-open view meant that any enemies would be exposed; even if someone tried to seize Wu Hong, it would not be so easy now.

The Silver-Armored General had received direct orders from above: Wu Hong was to be escorted straight to the capital, so he did not return to Yunluo County.

As night fell, the soldiers were well prepared with provisions.

“Set camp here!” the Silver-Armored General commanded, and everyone began their preparations. They swiftly erected simple tents, kindled campfires, and arranged the night watch.

Inside the prison cart, Wu Hong had tried many times to break the iron chains binding his hands and feet, but they were exceptionally tough. Despite his extraordinary strength, he could make no headway.

“Ah—am I really to resign myself to fate?”

The desert night was whipped by fierce winds and sand, obscuring the moonlight. A group of black-clad figures approached silently from afar, their attire identical to the assassins who had previously targeted Wu Hong.

“Shhh—” A flash streaked through the air; with a soft thud, a dagger plunged into a soldier’s neck from behind. He could only utter a strangled, terrified moan before collapsing.

“We’re under attack!” one soldier shouted, but before he could take more than a few steps, a black-clad figure lunged from the shadows and sliced off his head, blood spraying high into the air.

“Who dares attempt to abduct a criminal of the imperial court?” The Silver-Armored General burst from his tent, armor gleaming, and saw the assailants: each dressed in black, their faces hidden, only the chilling gleam of their daggers visible.

The General was stunned, nearly crying out. Such attire was seen only among the world’s most feared assassin organization—Heaven’s Wrath. What had Wu Hong experienced in his year on the run, to have ties with such a group?

The Silver-Armored General gripped his silver spear in both hands, suddenly leaping a dozen yards into the air.

“Azure Dragon Descends!” he roared midair, his body enveloped in dazzling silver light.

Cloaked in a layer of silvery energy, the General had no fear of hidden weapons from below. He swung his spear, shouting loudly.

The black-clad assassins hesitated, startled—a pause that allowed several to be cut down by the soldiers.

“Impossible! A master of the Marrow Refining Realm?” one assassin cried. The Marrow Refining Realm was the pinnacle of physical cultivation, enabling one to concentrate all bodily energy at a point and project true energy to harm others.

Indeed, the Silver-Armored General, wild with battle-fury in the sky, sent waves of gentle, moonlike energy crashing toward the ground. The silver energy, like a dragon, swept through the black-clad figures around the prison cart.

Several assassins had no chance to react before the true energy pierced them through, leaving them cold and lifeless.

Wu Hong heard the voice of one of the black-clad men and was shocked—wasn’t that the voice of Huang Hu?

Though the Silver-Armored General also heard the leader’s voice, he could not identify it immediately.

With a thunderous crash, the General landed, sending tremors through the earth. A twenty-meter radius around him became a vacuum zone.

After their initial shock, several skilled assassins rushed toward the Silver-Armored General.

Not daring to underestimate them, the General wielded his silver spear with sweeping, lethal force—each strike claimed a life.

The assassins were astounded. According to their intelligence, this Silver-Armored General was supposed to be an ordinary officer escorting prisoners—how could he be so fierce, nearly as formidable as a battlefield champion? And a master at the peak of physical cultivation, no less.

Yet among the assassins were also many capable men. Some cloaked themselves in black energy, others in yellow—though they could not project sword energy, it was clear they too were experts in blood refinement, swiftly surrounding the General.

With a crack, one assassin’s blade smashed the prison cart, and Wu Hong sprang out.

“Brother, run! Don’t worry about us!” one black-clad man, close to Wu Hong, urged anxiously.

The man then flashed two cold gleams, severing Wu Hong’s chains.

Wu Hong did not hesitate. Though he suspected that Huang Hu was the leader of these men, he dared not linger; despite his recent progress in cultivation, his training time was still too short.

“Stop!” The Silver-Armored General was alarmed to see Wu Hong freed. He swept his spear, projecting a five- or six-meter radius of true energy, striking three assassins dead before they could even cry out.

Compared to the assassins and bandits, the soldiers escorting Wu Hong were far weaker in martial arts—not even in the same league.

Most assassins had energy shields, clearly at the blood refinement level; ordinary blades could hardly harm them, making the Silver-Armored General the fiercest among them.

The General cleared the enemies around him and sped after Wu Hong.

With a clang, Huang Hu, the black-clad leader, clashed directly with the General’s spear, the sound echoing like thunder. Huang Hu staggered back several steps, blood trickling from his lips.

He felt his organs had been injured; the violent energy from the clash wreaked havoc in his body.

“Scoundrel, courting death!” The Silver-Armored General, seeing a skilled assassin blocking his way, attacked in fury. He could not let Wu Hong escape; Wu Hong was simply too important—a wanted criminal named by those above.

His spear thrust whipped up a gust, forming a stream of energy that, from afar, resembled a miniature tornado barreling toward Huang Hu.

Still reeling from the last blow, Huang Hu could not move in time. The spear’s tip was about to pierce his skull; in terror, he could only close his eyes and await death.

“You brat, you wounded us earlier and thought you’d get away with it? In this territory, only we kill others—never has anyone been so arrogant!”

The imminent death was suddenly averted, and cold sweat broke out all over Huang Hu.

Suddenly, a burly man appeared behind the Silver-Armored General, wielding a massive axe. The General felt his protective energy concentrate violently at his back; with a shiver of caution, he changed the direction of his weapon and blocked overhead.

With a crash, the man’s axe was deflected by immense force—the man flew dozens of meters away and fell, unmoving, his fate unknown.

Wu Hong, fleeing, witnessed this perilous scene and wanted to turn back, but he knew that doing so would only jeopardize everything; he would neither save the black-clad men nor the bandits helping him, but doom them all.

The Silver-Armored General saw Wu Hong vanish into the darkness in the blink of an eye and grew frantic. He swept his spear in feints, slaughtering several bandits and assassins, then darted after Wu Hong.

All the assassins and bandits felt helpless; the General was too powerful for them, truly a master of the Marrow Refining Realm. At this level, the body’s bones, tendons, blood, and flesh were perfectly fused, able to unleash boundless true energy; this was the highest martial realm known. Though there were differences in skill, none of them could contend with him.

Legends spoke of a realm beyond physical refinement—the Innate Realm—but that was mere rumor. All they could do now was stall for time, hoping Wu Hong could escape further.

Yet clearly, the General would not remain entangled with them; after a few feints, he pursued Wu Hong.

Wu Hong knew no light-footed techniques, nor any martial arts forms, relying solely on his formidable physique to sprint through the desert night.

“Scoundrel, stop!” As Wu Hong sped away, a thunderous shout erupted behind him. Glancing back, he broke out in cold sweat: the Silver-Armored General, wrapped in silver radiance, spear in hand, moved through the desert like a soaring dragon, his speed astonishing—he was closing the distance rapidly.

Wu Hong knew his pursuer was a master of the Marrow Refining Realm, with perfect potential unlocked, channeling all his energy to move at incredible speed.

Wu Hong channeled his strength into his legs, wishing he could grow two more to escape.

The General, meanwhile, was astounded; wasn’t Wu Hong rumored to be an incapable, useless noble? How could he run so fast! Without pausing, the General swept his spear, sending a crescent-shaped true energy, half a meter wide, flying at Wu Hong.

The crescent energy, solid as substance, stirred up sand as it flew. Wu Hong, turning back, drew his dagger and slashed fiercely—boom! The crescent true energy was split in two, spraying into the sand on either side of Wu Hong, and suddenly, he felt the ground give way beneath his feet and plunged downward.

The split crescent energy devastated the sand around Wu Hong, creating a massive pit more than ten meters across.

Wu Hong spat out a mouthful of blood.

His heart trembled—how formidable! A strange, violent energy surged from the dagger into his body, wreaking havoc within.

The Silver-Armored General was likewise startled, cursing himself for his recklessness. No matter Wu Hong’s abilities, he could hardly withstand a true energy attack—if Wu Hong died, the General's own life would likely be forfeit.

As Wu Hong fell into the sand pit, the General rushed to the edge.