Chapter 519: No Room for Luck

Chapter 519: No Room for Luck

Puyang.

Boom!

A massive stone crashed against the city wall, shattering bricks and sending debris flying. Nearby soldiers scattered in all directions.

The stone rolled to the ground, and it was just about to crush a soldier when purple qi suddenly surged and a hand slammed onto the stone, shattering it into fragments.

The soldier, still shaken, quickly saluted and expressed his gratitude. “Thank you, Young General.”

Cui Yuanyong waved him off and shouted, “Fire!”

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

Numerous massive stones were catapulted from within the city, crashing down with resounding booms and smashing the approaching battering rams to pieces.

Some of the stones missed their targets, crushing soldiers into bloody pulp.

Still, countless soldiers continued to swarm, pushing siege engines with all their might toward the city walls.

Standing atop the city walls, Cui Yuanyong looked out over the battlefield. Arrows filled the sky like a locust swarm, and boulders fell chaotically. Below, an endless tide of soldiers surged forward. He felt oddly detached, as if he was not on the battlefield himself but watching it all from far above.

This was different from his previous experience at Yanmen Pass. There was no room for impulsive fervor here. Now, as the commander responsible for all the defensive decisions, he needed absolute composure. Any mistake could lead to catastrophic consequences.

Long before, during the decisive battle in Kuaiji, when Wang Zhaoling intended to head south, Cui Yuanyong had stationed his troops at Puyang to pressure the Wang Clan. He had not left since then. His father had held no illusions, knowing that if the Wang Clan rebelled, this place would be the first stronghold on the western front. As a result, they had continuously reinforced the defenses here, making Puyang’s defenses among the strongest in this civil war.

Cui Yuanyong had once thought that with Puyang being so difficult to capture, the Wang Clan would likely choose another route. But it turned out his father’s judgment was spot on. Heading south would have been pointless for the Wang Clan. With the southern Cao Gang stirring up trouble, the Tang Clan was temporarily unable to intervene in the north, giving the Wang Clan the perfect opportunity to head straight north toward the capital, hoping to seize the entire nation in one go.

With the capital to the north, the Wang Clan had to get past the Cui Clan first. The Cui-Wang alliance through marriage was initially partly intended for this reason. Once they were united, their forces could potentially threaten the capital directly.

But now, Cui Wenjing was not only refusing to merge forces but was not even attempting to feign resistance and let the Wang Clan secretly pass—a typical aristocratic maneuver. Instead, they were engaging in full resistance, clear and open. There were some murmurs within the Cui Clan that Cui Wenjing was cutting off any retreat, making it an unwise choice.

But nothing anyone said mattered—Cui Wenjing’s resolve was so strong that even his own wife was astonished, feeling as if he were a different person.

Cui Yuanyong remembered asking his father, “You once said that in a world of gods and demons, there would also be families of gods and demons. The rule of gods and demons is, at its core, no different from the northern barbarians invading. So why are we so determined this time, acting like loyal servants of the Great Xia...?”

His father’s answer was, “If barbarians invade, at worst, you shave your head, change your clothes, and adopt new customs. At the end of the day, the Cui Clan will still be the Cui Clan. Even with other gods or demons, as long as they require the human world to survive, you and I still have value. But the Sea Tribe is different... They live in the sea and have no need for the land. I don’t know their exact purpose, but I do know that their living conditions are fundamentally different from ours. We can’t afford to have any illusions.”

After saying this, his father emphasized again: “No illusions, none at all.”

Cui Yuanyong took a deep breath, raised his sword high, and shouted, “Prepare the rolling stones!”

Boom!

A battering ram advanced through the rain of stones and arrows, reaching the city gates.

“If you’ve completely lost trust in me, then there’s nothing left to discuss.”

“There was never any need to discuss anything.”

“But you can’t beat me, Wenjing. You and I have always been evenly matched, and now, my Zhenhai Sword has been fully restored, while your Qinghe Sword remains half-dead.”

Cui Wenjing smiled. “Perhaps. But you aren’t confident you can avoid injury, which is why you’re attempting this last bit of persuasion.”

Wang Daoning slowly said, “But you will die.”

Cui Wenjing’s smile grew even brighter. “If I die, but you are forced to return wounded, then it will be up to Yuanyong and Zhaoling to decide the outcome... Once you and I are done, it’s their time to step onto the stage.”

There was a hint of playful defiance in Cui Wenjing’s smile that left Wang Daoning feeling a bit helpless.

If the older generation withdrew from the world stage and the younger generation took over, one name would immediately flash through everyone’s mind—someone whose presence made his peers feel breathless. As the Tome of Troubled Times recently said, “After I bloom, all flowers wither.”

That person was Old Cui’s son-in-law, though he had yet to actually marry his daughter.

It had to be said that Cui Wenjing’s resolve stirred something even in Wang Daoning’s heart.

Thirty years of friendship, and for the first time, he saw this old fox so determined—he allowed no room for luck, and the future of his family mattered to him more than his own life.

To have such a person as an obstacle was enough to give anyone a headache.

Wang Daoning finally gave up on any further attempts at persuasion and slowly drew his Zhenhai Sword. “Brother Cui, let us finish the battle we started thirty years ago.”

The Qinghe Sword left its scabbard on its own, swirling around Cui Wenjing. “Please.”

Boom!

Thunder suddenly boomed in the sky as torrential rain poured down.

On the battlefield, Wang Zhaoling had no choice but to halt the siege. It was impossible to scale the walls in this weather.

Yet, today’s forecast predicted no rain.

This sudden downpour had no other explanation—it could only be the result of the duel between those on the Ranking of Heaven affecting the heavens themselves.

The Wang Clan’s Zhenhai Sword and the Cui Clan’s Qinghe Purple Qi were both associated with water. When these two forces clashed, the result was a torrential downpour.

A hundred li to the south, the skies were clear, and three thousand Blood God Cult members rode across the plains. Looking at the dark storm clouds in the distance, each of them was filled with awe. “Why is it raining over there?”

Zhao Changhe led the way, breaking away from the group in a mad dash. “Prepare to strike at the Wang Clan’s flank! Old Xue will take full command—don’t worry about me!”

Boom!

A massive bolt of lightning split the sky, illuminating the plains in a blinding white. The clouds were infused with purple qi, making it hard to tell whether the light was from the lightning or a sword.