My father-in-law Guan Yu, I persuaded Liu Bei to launch a surprise attack on Xiangyang at the beginn

Wu Rong lay prone on his horse, his long hair disheveled by the wind, his back soaked with cold sweat. His disheveled appearance during his frantic escape was fully witnessed by his pursuers.

At this moment, Deng Aile reined in his horse and paused briefly, a cold, sarcastic smile playing on his lips.

His silver spear pointed diagonally at the ground, its tip reflecting the morning light and radiating a chilling glow.

Watching Wu Rong's hasty retreating figure, a look of understanding flashed in his eyes—the woman's earlier escape without a fight was not out of cowardice, but because she was hiding a unique skill in throwing stones, intending to take advantage of her escape to launch a sneak attack.

"You wretched woman, how dare you presume to teach me with just a few pebbles? Do you think such hidden weapons can harm me?"

Deng Ai's voice, carried by a strong wind, cut through the sound of horses' hooves and reached Wu Rong's ears, full of disdain and mockery: "Utterly foolish!"

Before the cold snort had even finished, Deng Ai suddenly spurred his horse's flanks, and the warhorse beneath him let out a neigh, its hooves flying as it chased after the horse like a black lightning bolt.

The hoofprints kicked up clouds of dust as the horse rapidly closed the distance to Wu Rong's figure ahead.

As Wu Rong heard the approaching hoofbeats behind him, his heart pounded wildly.

The image of the first flying stone being easily deflected kept replaying in her mind. She shook her head vigorously, gritting her teeth and thinking to herself:
"He must have been lucky and just happened to run into it! I've practiced this flying stone technique for over ten years. It's as fast as a shooting star. Ordinary generals can't even see its shadow. There's no way he could have blocked it a second time!"

Once she made up her mind, Wu Rong suddenly pulled hard on the reins, causing the horse to rear up in pain. Taking advantage of this brief pause, she quietly reached her left hand into the leather pouch at her waist. When her fingertips touched the smooth, polished bluestone, her eyes flashed with a sharp light.

Almost the instant her warhorse landed, she flicked her wrist, and a goose egg-sized flying stone, accompanied by a whooshing sound, shot towards Deng Ai's face, who was chasing after her.

This time, Wu Rong used all his strength, and the flying stone was even faster than before. It drew a thin white streak in the air and with a sharp "whoosh," it was already in front of Deng Ai.

But in Deng Ai's eyes, this seemingly lightning-fast flying stone was as slow as a crawling tortoise shell. He was a veteran of many battles, and his reaction speed alone far surpassed that of ordinary generals.

Seeing the flying stone coming, Deng Ai didn't even lift his eyelids. His silver spear moved like a snake emerging from its hole, and the tip of the spear accurately struck the side of the flying stone.

"clang!"

A crisp metallic clang suddenly rang out, the flying stone changed direction due to the force, and with a "plop" it embedded itself in the nearby embankment, splashing up a few bits of mud.

Wu Rong was startled and his whole body trembled. He gripped the reins tightly with both hands.

Cold sweat trickled down his forehead and dripped onto his dusty clothes.

If the first instance could be attributed to luck, this second precise parry could not be explained by mere chance. Was Deng Ai's reaction speed truly that terrifying?
"Impossible! I don't believe I can't kill you!"

Wu Rong's ferocity was aroused, and a hint of madness flashed in her eyes. She suddenly reached into her bag and grabbed the remaining seven flying stones in her hand.

These seven pebbles are all the same size and have sharp edges, which is her secret weapon.

She took a deep breath, quickly flipped her wrist, and using the momentum of the galloping warhorse, launched seven flying stones one after another like arrows in quick succession.

"Whoosh whoosh!"

The sharp sounds rang out in succession as seven pebbles struck Deng Ai's face, throat, heart, and lower abdomen—four vital points—at tricky angles, covering all possible escape routes.

At such close range and with such a high rate of fire, even a renowned general might not be able to escape unscathed.

But Deng Ai's indifference did not diminish at all; instead, it was tinged with contempt.

"You dare to show off such a trivial skill!"

He gave a low shout, and the silver spear in his hand suddenly danced into a ball of silver light, the spear shadows as dense as a net, protecting his entire body completely.

The silver spear was swung at an extreme speed, so fast that the naked eye could not see the trajectory of the shaft; all that could be seen was a flash of cold light.

Seven crisp, resounding sounds rang out in succession, like strings of jade beads falling to the ground.

The seven flying stones, which had been flying with unstoppable force, were knocked away one by one by the silver spear. Some were embedded in the ground, while others broke in two and scattered all over the ground.

"This...how is this possible?"

Wu Rong froze completely, his mouth slightly open, his eyes filled with disbelief and terror, as if he had seen a ghost.

She staggered and nearly fell off her horse, her hands hanging limply at her sides. The pouch was empty of flying stones, and the last bit of confidence in her heart dissipated.

She had practiced the art of throwing stones since childhood and had never been defeated in thirty years. With this skill, she had killed countless powerful enemies.

But today, in front of Deng Ai, this proud skill seemed as laughable and easily defeated as a child throwing stones.

Her confidence completely collapsed at that moment, shattering not only her fighting spirit but also all her remaining hope.

Wu Rong felt his hands and feet turn ice cold, and only one thought remained in his mind—escape!
We must escape immediately! Otherwise, we will surely die!
She hurriedly threw the empty leather bag to the ground, gripped the horse's belly tightly with her legs, and frantically lashed the warhorse with her whip, shouting:

"Drive! Drive!"

The horse, in pain, galloped forward like a madwoman. This time, she no longer thought of a sneak attack; she only wanted to escape Deng Ai's pursuit with all her might.

Unfortunately, it was too late.

In the brief interval between her launching seven stones, Deng Ai took advantage of her pause and spurred his horse to catch up to her within a few steps.

For Deng Ai, this distance was merely a matter of raising his hand.

"You bitch! You dare to attack, and you think you can escape?"

Deng Ai's cold shout rang out like thunder behind Wu Rong.

With a flick of his wrist, the silver spear, carrying immense force, pierced towards Wu Rong's back.

The gun tip sliced ​​through the air, emitting a piercing whistle.

Wu Rong felt a chill run down his spine as the shadow of death instantly loomed over him.

With nowhere to dodge, she could only instinctively turn to the side, simultaneously raising the sword at her waist and parrying backward with all her might.

"Bang!"

With a deafening crash, the silver spear and the saber collided violently.

Wu Rong felt an overwhelming force travel along the blade, his arm went numb instantly, and the sword almost flew out of his hand.

She trembled violently, veins bulging on her forehead and neck, her face turning bright red.

The fierce force pierced through the blade and mercilessly struck her internal organs.

"Woo..."

Wu Rong felt a sweet taste in his throat and spat out a mouthful of blood. The blood mist dispersed in the air and splattered onto the horse's back, a horrifying sight.

She swayed and nearly fell, clearly indicating that she had suffered serious injuries.

But Wu Rong had an extremely strong will to survive. Using the recoil from the impact of the silver spear, she twisted her body sharply, forcefully deflecting Deng Ai's spear, and turned her horse around to continue her escape.

Why would Deng Ai give her a second chance?
He turned his horse around, retracted his silver spear, and thrust it out again, chasing after it like a shadow.

The sharp sound of a blade slicing through the air followed in Wu Rong's ears, while the cold gleam of Deng Ai's silver spear clung to him like a leech, fixed on the edge of Wu Rong's vision.

She lay sprawled on the swaying horse, the excruciating pain in her chest making each breath a tearing agony. Blood mingled with dust from the corner of her mouth, smearing her chin, leaving her once heroic face a picture of utter disarray. Just when she thought she was doomed, a familiar figure suddenly came into view amidst the chaos of the enemy ranks ahead—the barbarian banner embroidered with the character "silver" was swaying violently with its master's swings, and the fierce general beneath it, bare-armed, was sending sprays of blood with each swing of his long sword.

It's a silver knot!
Wu Rong's eyes suddenly lit up, as if a drowning person had grabbed the last piece of driftwood.

Yin Jie was one of the top warriors among the eight tribes of the Southern Barbarians. He wielded a cleaver weighing over fifty catties. He once single-handedly killed three enemy leaders during a civil war among the barbarians. Although his martial arts skills were slightly inferior to his own, he was still a truly first-rate fighter.

At this moment, he was in the midst of the Han soldiers' ranks, fighting like a tiger among sheep. More than twenty Han soldiers' corpses lay on the ground, weapons were scattered everywhere, and blood stained the surrounding withered grass.

"Silver Knot! Quickly block this bastard behind you!"

Wu Rong roared with all his might, his voice hoarse and distorted from his severe injuries, yet filled with an unprecedented urgency.

She didn't even care about appearances; her long, disheveled hair was whipped across her face by the wind, and her blood-stained face looked particularly ferocious in the sunlight.

Ten paces away, Yin Jie had just cleaved open the helmet of a Han soldier with a single stroke, and the sight of his brains splattering made a bloodthirsty excitement flash in his eyes.

Hearing the shrill cry, he instinctively turned around and saw Wu Rong with disheveled hair and blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. Her horse was also staggering due to its master's serious injury. A few steps behind her, a Han general in silver armor was galloping after her, his silver spear pointing directly at Wu Rong's back, the cold light of the spear tip almost piercing through her spine.

"The witch leader?!"

Yin Jie's pupils constricted sharply, and he almost dropped the knife in his hand. He knew Wu Rong's strength all too well; the title of the number one fierce general of the Southern Barbarians was no exaggeration. Ordinary Han generals could not last three rounds against her, and even Zhang Bao of Shu Han had fought her to a standstill.

But Wu Rong was beaten so badly that he was powerless to fight back, and the armor of the pursuer was definitely not Zhang Bao's!

"Silver Knot! Help me kill him!"

Wu Rong's cries rang out again, tinged with sobs. Her horse suddenly stumbled, nearly throwing her off balance and exposing her even more to Deng Ai's spear.

Yin Jie's heart tightened, and he instinctively wanted to spur his horse and charge forward.

But as soon as he turned his horse around, his movements suddenly stopped, and cold sweat instantly soaked his back.

He knew better than anyone the gap between himself and Wu Rong—in the last tribal martial arts competition, he had tried his best but only lasted fifty rounds against Wu Rong, and Wu Rong had shown mercy in the end so as not to hurt him.

Even Wu Rong was beaten to this state, wouldn't it be pointless for me to go up there and die?

But then he thought again that Wu Rong was the fiancée personally chosen by the cave master Meng Quan, and their wedding day was in three months. She would definitely be the queen of the Southern Barbarians in the future.

If we stand by and watch Wu Rong perish at the hands of this Han general, Meng Quan will be enraged, and not only will he himself be executed by slow slicing, but the entire Yin clan may also be implicated.

Even if Wu Rong manages to escape by chance, he might hold a grudge against Meng Quan for not helping him in his time of need, and if he were to speak ill of Meng Quan in the future, Meng Quan's good days would be over.

"We're going to die anyway, so let's fight!"

Yin Jie gritted his teeth, a ruthless glint flashing in his eyes.

He slapped his horse's belly hard, and the barbarian warhorse beneath him let out a wild neigh, its hooves flying as it charged towards Deng Ai. He raised his machete high, using the momentum of the charge to unleash a sharp gust of wind.
"Chief Wu, you go first! I'll handle this Han traitor!"

When Wu Rong saw that Yin had indeed stepped forward to stop him, he was overjoyed, as if he had been reborn.

She endured the excruciating pain in her chest, spurred her horse, and galloped past Yin Jie. She didn't even have time to say thank you, only leaving behind a "thank you" before speeding off towards the barbarian camp, afraid that Deng Ai would catch up with her if she was even a step too late.

"Han dogs, don't run! You dare to harm my southern barbarian leader? Pay with your lives!"

Seeing that Wu Rong was out of danger, Yin Jie felt a little relieved. He then glared angrily at Deng Ai and swung his machete down with tremendous force toward Deng Ai's head.

The blade swept through the air with a whooshing sound, and the swirling air even stirred the red tassel on Deng Ai's helmet.

"Anyone who stands in my way will die!"

A hint of impatience flashed in Deng Ai's eyes. His interest in chasing Wu Rong had been interrupted by this suddenly appearing barbarian general, which made his anger even greater.

Without slowing down at all, he suddenly exerted force with his silver spear, the shaft of which taut straight, and slammed towards the machete like a bolt of lightning.

Wherever the spear passed, it stirred up a cloud of dust, swirling up the surrounding withered grass and pebbles, its power ten times greater than that of the silver-knotted sword.

Seeing this terrifying scene, Yin Jie's heart sank to the bottom, and the fierce look on his face was instantly replaced by fear.

He could clearly feel the power contained in that silver spear, which was more terrifying than any fierce general he had ever seen. How could a human possess such power?

"Oops!"

Yin Jie had only one thought left in his mind, and regret overwhelmed him like a tidal wave.

He shouldn't have agreed on a whim; this was a match he couldn't possibly defeat!

But the blade had already been drawn, the arrow was on the bowstring, and there was no way for him to back down. He could only grit his teeth, put all his strength into his arm, and try to take the blow head-on.

"boom!"

The moment the swords and spears clashed, a deafening roar erupted, like thunder exploding in the wilderness.

The violent shockwave spread outwards from the two of them, causing the rubble on the ground to bounce half a foot high. Several Han soldiers and barbarian soldiers nearby who were unable to dodge in time were knocked to the ground by the shockwave, spitting out blood.

Yin Jie felt an immense, earth-shattering force emanating from the blade, and the bones in his arm cracked as if they were about to break. His body felt as if it had been struck by a giant hammer, and he and his horse were thrown into the air, flying a full three zhang (approximately 10 meters) before crashing heavily to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

"What...is this power?"

The silver knot in mid-air let out a heart-wrenching scream, spitting out blood.

He lay on the ground, his limbs twitching, too weak to even lift a finger.

Only now did he realize that the difference between himself and Deng Ai was not a matter of martial arts skill, but a world of difference.

Wu Rong's defeat was entirely justified. Even the bravest warriors of the Southern Barbarians would have no chance against such an opponent.

"Wu Rong...you've ruined me!"

Yin Jie gazed at the sky, her eyes filled with despair and regret.

He finally realized the terrible consequences of his momentary wishful thinking.

But regret was useless. Deng Ai spurred his horse and galloped over, his silver spear twirling lightly in his hand, the tip flashing with a cold light.

He didn't even glance at the silver knot on the ground; only as the horse swept past did his wrist dip slightly.

"Pfft!"

The sound of the silver spear piercing the neck was crisp and piercing. Silver-knotted head flew high into the air, with lingering fear still in its eyes.

The head rolled several steps before finally coming to rest beside the corpse of a Han soldier, its blood staining the ground beneath it.

Deng Aile reined in his horse, glanced in the direction Wu Rong had fled, then looked at the silver-clad corpse on the ground, his brows furrowing slightly.

He raised his hand to wipe the blood from the tip of his spear, then spurred his horse to chase after them again, leaving behind only a scene of devastation and the chaotic battle still raging.

The fierce southern barbarian general, Yin Jie, perished in the wilderness. (End of Chapter)