"The Demon Race is learning from us..." Li Qingxian remarked.
The war cries suddenly grew louder as demons, adept at leaping, vaulted onto the city wall.
"Enough talk!" Songg Baige turned and rejoined the battle.
Li Qingxian thought for a moment, then sat on the ground. He took out an assortment of Life Materials and began crafting one Wooden Talisman Person after another, each wrapped in a Yellow Talisman.
As soon as he crafted a batch of Wooden Talisman People, Li Qingxian would distribute them.
The soldiers who received the Wooden Talisman People had looks of joy on their faces and thanked him profusely.
The sun had set, but the moon had not yet risen, leaving the sky full of stars.
The war cries were endless.
Li Qingxian exhausted the Thunder Dragon Fire Seal’s Magical Power creating over two hundred Wooden Talisman People. With his power depleted, he had no choice but to meditate on the spot to slowly recover it.
Covered in blood, Zhou Henn walked over, a Magical Artifact bow in hand. He stood guard over Li Qingxian, picking off the Middle-Grade demons that leaped onto the top of the wall.
Once his Magical Power was replenished, Li Qingxian opened his eyes.
The thick stench of blood drifted on the night wind.
On the floor of the city wall, thick layers of blood had no time to dry before being covered by a fresh coat.
The blood was like sludge, clinging to the soles of their boots.
As people walked on the wall, an endless SQUELCHING sound echoed, making their hearts tremble.
One after another, demons with eyes glinting green leaped onto the wall, their massive claws flashing and sharp teeth bared as they attacked with frenzied madness.
The Literature Cultivators, Daoist Cultivators, and Puppet Cultivators positioned in the center began to suffer increasing casualties.
Zhou Henn sent a telepathic message: "Get ready. The Demon Race prefers the night to the day, and they typically launch their final assault at midnight. If things go as expected, Lord Zhou and Mr. Songg will unleash their full power. Then, the three kings will join forces to destroy the city and charge in. After they make their move, the two lords will block them, and we will escape on a Wooden Eagle."
"Is there no other way?" Li Qingxian asked in a low voice.
"You’ve never seen an Emperor Demon King in action. If you had, you’d understand. If we were just facing three ordinary Third-Grade Demon Kings, I wouldn’t run. It’s not like I haven’t helped kill a Third-Grade Demon King before. But a Third-Grade Emperor Demon... that’s a whole different story," Zhou Henn said with a sigh.
"I understand." Li Qingxian silently crafted Thunder Talismans and distributed them.
"Conserve some of your Magical Power. Stop when you’re at half. This massive battle won’t be decided by you alone."
Li Qingxian nodded, but he refused to give up. He constantly searched for openings and racked his brain for any usable Fate Skills.
As the night deepened, the number of demons outside the walls only increased, while the number of humans on the walls dwindled.
As midnight approached, there was still no word from the Imperial Court.
"Hold the Great River!"
A hoarse voice with a Wu Region accent rang out. It was no longer a gentle tongue, but sounded as if filled with gravel and steel.
Li Qingxian looked toward Zhou Chunfeng as the chanting of a Battle Poem began.
"A fine rain mists the river where grasses meet the shore; Six Dynasties Like a Dream, Birds Crying in Vain. Most unfeeling are the willows of Wu City, still shrouding the ten-li embankment in mist!"
A Jade-Bone Wolf-Hair Brush floated before Zhou Chunfeng, writing out silvery characters.
As the poem was completed, the characters vanished. With a flash of green light, a massive green willow tree shot up from the city wall. It was about ten zhang high, its crown shrouded in mist. Arm-thick willow branches, like steel arms, shot out, extending a hundred zhang far.
A dense flurry of willow branches struck out, sweeping Demon Soldiers off the wall, strangling them, piercing their bodies, or slapping them down in unison.
Demons below Middle Grade died in a single hit.
A six-colored rainbow flashed across the sky.
A Ninth-Grade Battle Poem produces a single-colored white light. With each increase in grade, the Battle Poem gains another color.
A six-colored rainbow meant a Fourth-Grade Battle Poem.
At the appearance of the great, emerald willow tree, the soldiers on the wall cheered loudly.
The demons were no match for the Wu Chengliu. Terrified, they scrambled to get away from it.
Zhou Chunfeng continuously chanted Battle Poems, and soon three verdant Wu Chengliu stood tall upon the North City Wall, like three great tree giants guarding the entire section of the wall.
Outside the city, the Demon Race halted below the wall, hesitating to advance.
"Useless trash! You dare to stop? Die!"
The Elephant King roared, raised his trunk, and let out a long trumpet. The blast dazed the nearby Demon Soldiers, forcing them to resume their attack.
On the city wall, the soldiers and officers fought alongside the Wu Chengliu, their courage soaring as they fought.
Li Qingxian memorized the lines of "Wu Chengliu" and mused over them for a long time before gently shaking his head.
’As expected. Not every poem can be altered, and I can’t recall any similar famous poems from memory.’
’Oh well. I should just stick to being a Fate Master.’
Li Qingxian looked at the three massive Demon Kings in the distance, and every fiber of his being screamed at him to retreat.
Suddenly, from the distant eastern wall, came the impassioned sound of Songg Yunjing reciting a poem.
"The wind sweeps the firmament, stacking Yellow Clouds..."
Only a single line was heard before it was drowned out by the overwhelming war cries.
Li Qingxian looked toward the eastern wall. After the poem was completed, he saw a six-colored rainbow flash by, just like the one for "Wu Chengliu."
A pure white Flood Dragon, over ten zhang long, flew through the air. It roared, causing Low-Grade demons to bleed from their seven orifices, while Middle-Grade demons staggered, unable to keep their footing.
The Flood Dragon, formed from flowing water, charged into the demon ranks with fangs and claws bared. It swiped and bit, occasionally spewing a Great River that smashed the demons, tearing their flesh and breaking their bones.
Li Qingxian remembered that Songg Yunjing’s poetic title was Hermit Longyin, which came from this poem, "Roar of the Dragon." Li Gangfeng had even made him memorize it.
He took out a brush and paper and slowly wrote down the full text of "Roar of the Dragon." After finishing, he gently shook his head. ’This poem doesn’t exist on Blue Star.’
’Oh well. It seems I’m not fated to be a poetry plagiarist. I’ll just stick to being a Fate Master.’
"Hold the Great River!"
The defending soldiers repeatedly chanted the slogan of the River Guard Army, their morale soaring ever higher.
Songg Baige, his Literary Qi depleted, ran back again. He was holding his own Battle Poem, pondering how to revise it.
Li Qingxian glanced at Songg Baige’s self-composed Battle Poem.
"One flake, another flake, and still one more; two flakes, three, and four, and five; six flakes, seven, and eight, and nine; they fly into the reed catkins and are seen no more."
"What do you think? Can my ’Flying Snow Poem’ be improved?" Songg Baige asked.
’What kind of crappy poem is this?’ Li Qingxian thought. ’Songg Baige really is a genius in the classics and an idiot in poetry. What kind of shameless person would even call this a poem?’
’It has no meter, no literary grace, no technique, no imagery, no artistic conception, no emotion, and no thought. A classic "seven-lacks" poem. And he calls this poetry?’
’Just now, when Songg Baige used this Battle Poem, snowflake blades filled the sky. It looked pretty, and it was quite lethal against ordinary Demon Soldiers, but against a Middle-Grade Demon General, it was like a tickle.’
Seeing Li Qingxian remain silent, Songg Baige shook his head and said, "I forgot. You’re only good for memorizing a few Fate Techniques and poems. You can’t even learn poetic meter."
"Have some shame. We’re in the middle of a war, so it’s not a good time for me to crush your confidence," Li Qingxian said, and then suddenly threw a Thunder Talisman forward.
BOOM!
The Thunder Talisman shot toward an empty space.
Songg Baige was about to laugh, but he suddenly froze.
A scream erupted from the thunderous flash, and a bat demon half the size of a man fell to the ground. Its fleshy wings twitched as it shrieked and squealed, green venom dripping from its fangs.
The nearby soldiers, startled, rushed over and began hacking and stabbing it.
The Literature and Daoist Cultivators broke out in a cold sweat.
"Thanks!" a Daoist Cultivator shouted.
"What kind of Spiritual Eye did you awaken at the Ninth Grade?" Songg Baige asked.
"Seeing the Dragon," Li Qingxian said in a low voice.
Songg Baige’s eyes flew wide open.
"This is absurd! Utterly absurd..." Songg Baige once again began to question his entire existence.
Zhou Chunfeng’s voice came from not far away: "Qingxian, patrol the area. The bat demons are your responsibility now."
Li Qingxian patrolled along the four walls of the city. Whenever he spotted a bat demon, he would sneak close and kill it with a Thunder Talisman.
The bat demons were few in number. After Li Qingxian had killed twenty-seven of them, the rest began to retreat one by one.
Zhou Chunfeng and Songg Yunjing moved along the city’s four walls, casting their Battle Poems.
The verses of "Wu Chengliu" and "Roar of the Dragon" echoed endlessly in the air.