In the Blade

After the fall of Jizhen, the swords were not put down for three days.

It was said to be three days, but in fact, it was only less than one day, and the whole Jizhen had turned into a hell on earth. The sound of weapons cutting into flesh and blood, mixed with the screams of dying, the grassland soldiers with bloodshot eyes shuttled through the streets, searching for every living person who might exist.

The blood flowed all over the ground and merged into a stream.

It’s not that no one has questioned He Xiqing’s order. Murshu, who followed He Xiqing, once made suggestions on this matter. After all, war is fought for money and food. Leaving those alive as slaves is better than just killing them all.

"What's more, the leaders of the Qingyang tribe will also have opinions."

This is the most important reason. The Qingyang tribe participated in the southern expedition this time, not to let the warriors waste their lives in vain. Gold, silver, jewelry, fertile land, and even these southern slaves, this is the biggest reason why the Qingyang tribe is willing to send troops.

No one wants to fight a losing battle, and no one wants to become poorer and poorer.

But at He Xiqing's command, all the southerners who were supposed to be taken as spoils of war were killed.

"Is there any problem with this?"

He Xiqing's face was calm with red eyes.

"Or do you think that after we kill all these people, the Qingyang tribe will dare to come to us to ask for benefits?"

Muershu was speechless.

Looking at the pair of bloody eyes like ghost fire, Muershu suddenly realized that the man in front of him, who was like the blue sky, had never thought of obeying the Qingyang tribe from the beginning.

The Qingyang tribe was just a springboard, and this man named He Xiqing would never be inferior to others.

There were warriors who secretly discussed that this hybrid born of a Mobei man and a southerner was not worthy of a high position, and that his blood flowed with the stupidity of the Mobei and the cowardice of the southerners.

But at this moment, Muershu clearly realized that what flowed in this man named He Xiqing was clearly the ferocity from the Mobei and the cunning from the southerners.

Fierce as a tiger, cunning as a fox, this is He Xiqing's way of using troops. At a time that no one expected, this man named He Xiqing only led his own army and defeated the Jizhou Governor's Office, which was almost the same size as the Qingyang tribe.

So, after the soldiers under his command have once again gone through the baptism of blood and qi and become more and more inhuman, can the Qingyang tribe really resist?

"It's hard to say, don't be too proud."

Just when Muershu was proud of the general he followed, the man named He Xiqing shook his head.

"To put it bluntly, the reason why this raid was successful was because the enemy was in the open and we were in the dark. When the entire Jizhou was not prepared, and even when the Qingyang tribe had not reacted, I led the team here and broke the city with one blow... If the Jizhou Governor's Office had been prepared, or even if Liu Yanran had not inexplicably declined at that time, this battle would not have ended so quickly."

"This just shows that my brother has a clear destiny."

This is not a joke, Muershu believes this from the bottom of his heart. After all, the southerner named Liu Yanran, who was placed in the border area by the Southern Chen court to counter the Qingyang tribe in the north, must have considerable strength - but such a general was killed by He Xiqing with a knife.

Indeed, it can be said that Liu Yanran's state declined due to lack of sleep, but killing is killing.

If this is not destiny, what else is destiny?

"Don't believe in destiny or anything like that. Those are all lies made up by wizards to deceive the world."

Having said this, He Xiqing grasped the hilt of the knife at his waist.

"We are warriors, Murshu. We don't need to believe in destiny. We only need to believe in ourselves and the knife in our hands."

"...Brother!"

Mu'ershu knelt on one knee excitedly, allowing He Xiqing to put the unsheathed saber on his shoulder.

This is the most sincere loyalty. With the saber on his shoulder, Murshu's head can be cut off with just a slight swing - but Murshu doesn't care. Even if He Xiqing wants him to die, Murshu will not hesitate.

However, this sacred loyalty ceremony had just begun when it was interrupted by a soldier who suddenly broke in.

"Brother! Something happened!"

A grassland warrior with scarlet eyes rushed into the tent in a panic.

"Some southerners are killing our warriors! Fifteen have been killed!"

"...So you just ran over here?"

He Xiqing frowned.

"Aren't they just some warriors and knights from Jizhou? Why don't you kill them?"

"Yes, why don't you just kill them?"

Muershu also stood up with a serious face.

The people of Jizhou are full of martial virtues, which is known even on the grassland. However, in the eyes of these grassland generals, these civilian warriors are more like the second line of defense deliberately left by the Jizhou Governor's Office.

On weekdays, these civilian warriors can resist looting and protect the country and the people. When encountering critical moments, such as the fall of Jizhen City, these civilian warriors will become armed forces that roam secretly, and will kill these grassland warriors when they get the chance.

But the problem lies here.

If it were just the people of the Qingyang tribe, it would be reasonable to run back to report the resistance. But as soldiers under He Xiqing, as eagles of the northern desert watered with blood and energy, how dare these people run back like this?

"Are you afraid of fighting?"

As he spoke, Murshu's big hand had already pinched the neck of this grassland warrior.

"Are you a deserter?"

"No, I, not..."

The grassland warrior who was lifted in the air gasped hard.

"I didn't desert, it was that man, that man, he was holding Ah Xuan's axe..."

"Huh?"

The grassland warrior in his hand fell to the ground, and Muershu was stunned.

"You said... Ah Xuan?"

Muershu couldn't help but turn his head to look at He Xiqing.

The man who killed He Xixuan dared to come over?

It was at this time that He Xiqing laughed.

"If it was Ah Xuan's axe, it would be normal for you to lose. After all, that axe has killed too many people, and what you are facing cannot be calculated by common sense."

Although he said it calmly, He Xiqing's eyes had turned blood red at some point.

"So it's right for you to come back this time. This is indeed something that only I can do."

Putting the knife back into the sheath, He Xiqing strode out of the tent.

The murderous posture was just like a ghost crawling out of the Nine Nether Hell.

"Mulshu, prepare the horse for me... Where is that person who took Ah Xuan's axe now?"

"North of the town! Outside the camp!"

The grassland warrior raised his hand and pointed.

"That monster just broke in!"

As soon as the voice fell, He Xiqing heard the shouting and killing from afar.

And the fire that shot up into the sky.

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