Late Ming Dynasty: Summoning players from Liaodong to support the Ming Dynasty

That clear, resonant sword cry sounded particularly abrupt and jarring atop the noisy, bustling wall.

The cheers from the top of the wall came to an abrupt halt.

All the players were stunned. They stared at Hu Yongqiang, who slowly stood up from the ground, their expressions changing from excited anticipation to pure astonishment.

He threw away the broken Jin scimitar that symbolized his new master's identity.

He drew the Ming-style sword that had been gathering dust for a long time, a symbol of his painful past.

The sword was long and narrow, and in the torchlight, it reflected no dazzling light, only a layer of dark, gloomy darkness that seemed to devour the light itself. It was the color of iron, forged through countless hammer blows, existing solely for killing.

The moment the sword was fully drawn from its sheath, Hu Yongqiang's entire demeanor suddenly changed.

If he was a wild beast driven to the brink of despair, only able to roar madly, full of mania and hysteria.

At this moment, he is like a venomous snake slowly raising its head from the abyss of darkness.

That frenzy, that despair, vanished without a trace. In its place was a chilling coldness, a pure, condensed killing intent.

His face, swollen and disfigured from the beating, was no longer contorted; instead, it revealed an eerie calm. Light returned to his empty eyes—a deathly light devoid of emotion, existing solely for slaughter.

He held his sword horizontally across his chest, the tip slightly lowered, adopting a strange starting stance that no one could understand.

"Holy crap... what's going on? The boss is in its second phase?"

"He...he changed weapons? What is that sword? And it has a hidden form?"

"Something's wrong! Look at his health bar! It's locked! It's fucking locked! This isn't fair!"

Wang Han's pupils suddenly contracted. He stared intently at Hu Yongqiang, his analytical instincts—typical of a seasoned game designer—instantly overshadowing his relief at surviving the ordeal. He roared in the guild channel in an almost distorted voice, "Don't move! This is a mechanic-based kill! It's part of the story! Don't go up there and get yourself killed. Watch how the general fights!"

In Qian Lele's live stream, the barrage of comments that were just scrolling through "Congratulations, General! Congratulations, General!" was instantly flooded with a dense barrage of question marks.

【？？？？？】

"I took my pants off and this is what you show me? The boss has a second life?"

[This traitor's got something! His aura is way stronger than before! Is the city chief about to be in trouble?]

On the top of the wall, Chu Ze's brows furrowed slightly for the first time.

Looking at Hu Yongqiang, who was completely different from before, and at the Ming-style sword that exuded an ominous aura, the doubt that had been overlooked in his mind finally surfaced clearly.

This Hu Yongqiang is far more than just an opportunistic border soldier.

He didn't say another word of nonsense.

Hu Yongqiang made a move.

His figure left an afterimage in place, and he transformed into an arrow released from a bow, rushing straight towards Chu Ze!

too fast!

His speed was more than twice as fast as when he used the knife before!

The sword flashed like lightning, aiming straight for Chu Ze's throat!

This sword strike was devoid of any fancy moves, relying solely on pure speed and angle, making it both cunning and ruthless.

Chu Ze's pupils contracted, and he suddenly thrust his spear upwards.

"Ding!"

The spear tip and the sword tip collided precisely in mid-air, exploding into a dazzling burst of sparks!

A soft yet sharp force traveled along the gun barrel, causing Chu Ze's arm to go slightly numb.

Before he could retaliate, Hu Yongqiang's offensive was like a flood that had burst its banks, and it was unstoppable!

He didn't fight Chu Ze's spear head-on at all. Instead, he relied on the short and agile nature of his sword and his unpredictable movements. Like a leech, he stayed close to Chu Ze.

The sword light flashed, transforming into a dense, deadly net of blades.

Lift, stab, slash, chop, wipe!

Every move was aimed at Chu Ze's most vital points, such as his joints, neck, and chest!

A gun is stronger the longer it is.

A sword, the shorter it is, the more dangerous it becomes.

In the instant Hu Yongqiang closed in, Chu Ze's long spear, which was used to take the head of a general in the midst of a thousand soldiers, was instead restricted and could not be used effectively.

Suddenly, the situation took an astonishing turn!

On the wall, sword light dazzled and silver spears danced. Hu Yongqiang, like a ghost, relentlessly attacked Chu Ze, each strike aimed at vital points, forcing Chu Ze to retreat continuously. Chu Ze wielded his spear, creating a silver halo that perfectly protected him.

"Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!"

The clanging of metal was so dense, like a torrential downpour pounding on banana leaves, sparks flying everywhere, illuminating Hu Yongqiang's frighteningly calm face, and also illuminating Chu Ze's steady, mountain-like expression.

The players' hearts were in their throats.

"Holy crap! The general's been suppressed!"

"What the hell is that swordsmanship? It's too powerful! The spearman is in close combat, he's doomed!"

"Where's Shi Dali, the one who opened the betting? Change the odds! I'm betting on that traitor to win! One hundred merit points!"

Shi Dali, who was watching in stunned silence, instinctively yelled back, "Fuck you! I'll always bet on the City Lord to win!"

Blue Star, China Region.

In the live stream room of 【Dragon Soars Military】, the military blogger was so excited that he stood up. He pointed at the screen, his voice trembling slightly from excessive excitement.

"It's it! It's the one! This is a sword technique from the lost Ming Dynasty's 'Selection of Single-Sword Techniques'! No, it's a variant! It's a close-quarters combat technique that Qi Bo, when training troops in Jizhou, combined long and short weapon techniques, specifically designed to deal with the nomadic cavalry of the north! Look at his footwork, it's called 'Japanese Step,' low center of gravity, quick changes of direction! And that move 'Welcoming the Enemy's Advance,' using the spine of the sword to block, then thrusting forward with the tip! My god! Where did this game company dig these things out of?!"

Meanwhile, on the other side, Professor Wei, an elderly professor in the history department, had completely taken off his reading glasses. He leaned close to the screen, his cloudy old eyes filled with shock and disbelief.

"This...this isn't swordsmanship...this is fighting desperately..."

He saw something deeper.

"This sword technique is powerful and fierce, but lacks balance and tranquility. Every move exudes a ruthless determination to destroy everything. This is not a martial art for friendly sparring; it is a killing technique used in desperate situations, where lives are exchanged for each other! The person who uses this sword technique... must be harboring immense pain and hatred in their heart!"

On the top of the wall, Wang Erniu, watching from afar, was dumbfounded.

Unlike players and Earth viewers, he couldn't analyze the intricacies of the game.

But he recognized the sword technique.

He had once seen a lieutenant general under the Liaodong military commander practice similar moves on the drill ground before Guangning was besieged. At that time, he was just a lowly soldier watching from afar, and he felt that the lieutenant general's swordsmanship was like a dragon and a tiger, majestic and awe-inspiring, a skill that they, as ordinary soldiers, could never learn in their entire lives.

But now, this sword technique, which he once looked up to with great admiration and which belonged to the elite officers of the Ming Dynasty, was being used by a traitor who had defected to the Tartars against a general who was slaughtering his own people.

A tremendous sense of absurdity and indignation overwhelmed Wang Erniu's simple mind.

He clenched his fists, his nails digging deep into his palms, and squeezed out a bloody curse through his teeth.

"That son of a bitch... he used his ancestors' skills to kill his own people..."

In the center of the battlefield, Hu Yongqiang's offensive became increasingly frantic.

His sword grew faster and faster, leaving afterimages in the air.

His swordsmanship is full of contradictions.

Sometimes it is grand and sweeping, full of the fierce and brutal nature of military battles; at other times it is insidious and ruthless, specializing in attacking the lower body and using any means necessary.

He should have used this sword technique to kill the Tartars, protect his homeland, and earn the fame and fortune he had always dreamed of.

But now, he is using it to make his final and most pathetic struggle for his betrayal.

Each sword strike seemed to be a question to himself.

Each sword strike carried with it the humiliation, resentment, and pain he had suppressed for countless days and nights.

His expression also became distorted.

Half of it was a chilling, bone-chilling killing intent, and the other half was unspeakable pain.

Amidst the fierce onslaught, Chu Ze retreated step by step, but his upper body remained as steady as a rock.

The spear in his hand transformed into an insurmountable barrier.

He could feel the power emanating from Hu Yongqiang's sword, a power gained through burning one's life force.

He could also see the despair in Hu Yongqiang's swordsmanship.

This swordsmanship embodies both the glory of his past as a Ming Dynasty officer and the shame of his present status as a traitor and lackey.

Glory and shame intertwined, ultimately brewing this final, frantic lament.

"bite--!"

Another violent collision!

Chu Ze seized the moment when Hu Yongqiang's sword strike had reached its limit, his old strength exhausted and his new strength yet to be generated, and stopped focusing solely on defense.

He suddenly slammed his wrist down, and the gun barrel lashed out like an iron whip. Instead of striking Hu Yongqiang's body, it slammed hard onto the sword in his hand!

"Buzz—!"

The sword in Hu Yongqiang's hand let out a mournful cry as it was smashed high into the air by the force, revealing a huge opening!

opportunity!

All the spectators held their breath!

They could almost see Chu Ze's spear emerge like a venomous dragon from its lair, piercing Hu Yongqiang's chest in an instant and ending this thrilling battle.

However, Chu Ze did not.

He did not retaliate.

He simply took advantage of the opening to step back a large step, re-establishing the optimal distance for striking with his spear.

He stood there with his gun, watching Hu Yongqiang, whose breathing became momentarily disordered after his move was broken.

He spoke.

The sound wasn't loud, but it was like an ancient bell, clearly echoing in everyone's ears on this wall filled with the sounds of swords and killing intent, and reaching Hu Yongqiang's ears.

"This sword technique, was it left behind by Qi Shaobao back then?"

Hu Yongqiang's body suddenly stiffened.

Chu Ze's calm, emotionless words continued.

"If you use it to kill me, Qi Shaobao's spirit in heaven will surely die with his eyes wide open in disbelief."