Chapter Forty-Five: The Outcome Is Decided

"Charge! All of you, charge for your lord!"

Zheng Yiqing, outwardly fierce but inwardly terrified, drove his men and the prisoners forward, urging them to storm the camp at the cave in the mountain. His voice was trembling, sustained only by the last vestige of confidence: that he had overwhelming numbers—more than forty warriors. With so many, even ants could bite an elephant to death; perhaps there was still a chance to turn the tables.

Yet no matter how furiously Zheng Yiqing bellowed, the other warriors remained cowering and afraid, unwilling to advance.

"It's impossible!"

"The sword in his hand, gleaming with golden light, is clearly no ordinary weapon. It must be an immortal's divine blade, a celestial artifact that slices through iron as if it were mud! How can we hope to fight with our wooden spears and shields?!"

The hearts of the warriors were filled with shock and terror! Even He An, the most formidable martial artist in Zheng's domain, unparalleled in skill, had been defeated by Ye Mo in a single move, coughing blood and collapsing. How could any of them dare to test the might of the "divine weapon" in Ye Mo's hands?

Ye Mo stood alone at the breach in the camp's stockade, holding aloft his dazzling golden spirit sword, his gaze cold as he regarded Zheng Yiqing's warriors.

He waited to see who among them dared to assault the camp.

At last, under Zheng Yiqing’s desperate urgings, four or five reckless warriors, clutching faint hope, exchanged glances, brandished their blades and spears behind their spiritual wood shields, and, shouting "Kill!" charged furiously at Ye Mo.

"Vortex Slash!"

Ye Mo plunged into the throng, twisting his body as he swept the golden spirit sword around him. A vortex of sword energy erupted from him in all directions, enveloping everything within ten feet in a blinding golden radiance.

Splatters of blood and splintered wood filled the air as the overwhelming force of three hundred pounds behind the indomitable spirit sword shattered weapons, broke blades and split shields. Screams of pain rang out unceasingly.

"Ah! My arm is broken—help me!" "Someone stop the bleeding—my guts are spilling out!"

In an instant, the four or five warriors were left maimed and writhing on the ground, shrieking in agony.

Dominating and unstoppable—one move, and none could withstand him!

Though Zheng Yiqing’s side had the advantage of numbers, Ye Mo, at the ninth level of body refinement, wielded a celestial weapon of immense power, with swordsmanship that had reached the pinnacle—transforming the ordinary into the divine.

Whether one-on-one or against many, Ye Mo's strength inspired dread in all who faced him.

"This battle is hopeless!"

"Run for your lives!"

The warriors outside the camp were utterly broken. Their final confidence—their numbers—crumbled to dust before Ye Mo's unparalleled might.

With the divine weapon in his grasp, Ye Mo had become so formidable that even their numbers could not stand against him.

"No! How can this be? It's over—completely over!"

Zheng Yiqing's face turned ashen as he saw Ye Mo striding toward him, terror filling his eyes as he stumbled backward.

He had forgotten his purpose for coming. Only one thought remained in his mind—escape! Flee to the sea and save his own life.

A wave of terror consumed him.

Unable to bear it any longer, Zheng Yiqing gave a frantic cry, spun around, and dashed madly into the depths of the jungle.

"Quickly, go!"

"We can't win—hurry, save He An, protect the young lord and escape! We can still make it to the sea, there's still hope!"

The steward cried out urgently, calling for everyone to follow Zheng Yiqing.

Zheng Yiqing's trusted followers, disheartened and panic-stricken, tossed away their weapons and shields, fleeing after their leader into the woods. Under the protection of the wiry warrior, the bearded man hoisted the bleeding, unconscious He An onto his back and sprinted desperately away.

Ye Mo pursued them for five or six miles, but as Zheng Yiqing’s group disappeared into the dense forest, he had no choice but to give up.

...

"Quick! Push the spiritwood raft into the sea!" "Don’t let that slaughterer catch up!"

Zheng Yiqing and seven or eight of his men rushed breathlessly to a hidden beach on the island, where they had stashed a large spiritwood raft, ample supplies of dried food, and water.

Before attacking Ye Mo, they’d forced their captive warriors to build a raft large enough for over a dozen people, and stockpiled enough rations for ten people to survive several months.

It was only Zheng Yiqing’s obsession with revenge that had kept him from leaving the island sooner.

The warriors heaved the raft into the waves and hurriedly loaded it with all the food and water.

They paddled furiously, and the large raft drifted away from the island, heading into the vast expanse of the sea.

After several miles, they finally breathed easier.

Even with his celestial weapon, Ye Mo could not pursue them onto the water—they had at least managed to keep their lives.

Zheng Yiqing looked around the raft, sitting in a daze, his heart bitter.

When he set out against Ye Mo, he had led more than forty warriors, spirits high and certain of victory. Now, driven in defeat onto the sea, only seven or eight loyal followers remained on the raft, all wounded and despondent.

He An was soaked in blood, coughing it up continuously, his ornate robe stained, blood dripping onto the raft and spreading across the sea.

"He An, how are you?"

Steward Cao supported He An, his face anxious.

"A heavy blow to the chest—I’ve suffered some internal injuries. Luckily, the heart-protecting mirror inside my armor absorbed most of the sword’s force, or I’d have died on the spot. Once the clotted blood is coughed up, I should recover in half a month."

He An, pale from blood loss, shook his head weakly.

Zheng Yiqing had no mind to concern himself with He An. He sat, spiritless and utterly defeated.

"You mustn’t lose heart, young lord. Once we reach the Immortal Village and master the arts of the immortals, we can return for Ye Mo at our leisure. The Eastern Sea is vast and perilous. Without a map, even the finest spiritwood ship cannot find the village. They’ll be eaten by sea beasts or worse, become bait in the endless ocean."

The steward tried to comfort Zheng Yiqing in his misery.

"Yes! I have the map—there is still hope for me."

"You, Ye! Just wait—once I ascend the immortal path and master supreme arts, I will return and drag you from that wretched island, torment you a thousand times over, let you wish for death but find none! You will learn what a grave mistake it was to oppose your lord!"

Zheng Yiqing snapped out of his daze, shooting the steward a look of savage delight. His gaze, full of venom, fixed on the mountains and forests of the island, his expression twisted with hatred.

"Sooner or later, we’ll avenge our fallen brothers!"

The warriors on the raft, though still crestfallen, regained a measure of spirit, gritting their teeth in anger.

The great raft drifted toward the boundless Eastern Sea.

...

After his pursuit, Ye Mo gave up the chase and returned to the cave camp.

The island was too vast, dozens of miles across, with thick forests. Zheng Yiqing’s seven or eight men could easily vanish into the undergrowth; it would be impossible to find them, and a trap might be fatal.

Ye Mo returned to camp.

The thirty-odd prisoners had already surrendered to Gao Jian, Mo Ling, Wang Hu, and the others, laying down all their weapons.

None had followed Zheng Yiqing in his flight.

The situation on the island was now clear: Ye Mo, at the very pinnacle of martial strength, wielded a celestial weapon and possessed the power to sweep aside any foe. Even supreme experts like He An were no match for him.

To flee with Zheng Yiqing offered no future. He would not spare these now-useless burdens.

After their weapons were confiscated, the prisoners were gathered outside the camp, awaiting Ye Mo’s judgment, for they were now captives taken in defeat.

"Zheng Yiqing has fled. You were forced to attack the camp; I will not punish you. You are free. Soon, the tide of sea beasts will arrive. If you wish to stay and help us fortify the camp against the beasts, you’re welcome. If not, you may seek your own path—I won’t stop you."

Ye Mo addressed the prisoners on the open ground.

They exchanged glances, surprised by his mercy.

On this island, savage sea beasts roamed at any time. Lacking sturdy weapons—all of which Zheng Yiqing’s men had seized—there was nowhere else to go. They had only stayed to await their fate.

If there were any other hope, who would choose to be a captive?

The crowd murmured among themselves.

"I wish to stay."

The poison master, Lin Zhi, stepped forward from among the prisoners.

"Good! You’re in."

Ye Mo recognized the poison master; it was thanks to his 'Ghostbane' that the young demon crab was slain and He An poisoned. Seeing him step forward, Ye Mo smiled and nodded.

"I pledge myself as well!"

"I will join, too!"

Lin Zhi’s followers, seeing their leader pledge himself, quickly followed.

Soon, every prisoner chose to join the camp. None wished to leave.

Sea beasts prowled the island in ever greater numbers at night—an enormous threat. The strongest wave of sea beasts would land in less than eight or nine days.

Without a strongly-defended camp and a band of powerful companions, they would all end up as food for the beasts, not even their bones remaining.

Eight or nine days was far too short to build three or four large spiritwood rafts and prepare enough supplies for several months at sea.

Moreover, Ye Mo left a much better impression than Zheng Yiqing.

By joining Ye Mo’s camp, the warriors had little reason to resist—indeed, they benefited most themselves.

Ye Mo was satisfied.

The more warriors in the camp, the greater their strength and their ability to withstand the beast tide.

With Zheng Yiqing gone, the island’s fate was sealed; the most important task now was to unite and prepare for the coming onslaught of sea beasts.

"Since you’ve all chosen to join, you must obey orders. That is my only demand! If anyone acts on their own and brings disaster to the camp, I will not forgive it!"

Ye Mo looked at the warriors.

His gaze swept across them, and no one dared meet his eyes.

The warriors were silent.

Having just escaped captivity under Zheng Yiqing, they now found themselves under another’s command, which many found difficult to accept.

The backgrounds of these warriors were varied and mostly unruly; none would willingly become another’s subordinate unless forced. Ye Mo’s overwhelming strength left them no courage to resist.

Some of the warrior leaders, especially, were disgruntled.

But no one dared object—none wished to provoke Ye Mo’s wrath.

Observing their expressions, Ye Mo sneered inwardly, guessing their unwillingness.

"Since no one objects, I’ll take your silence as acceptance. I also promise you: once we repel the beast tide, I will lead you to the sea in search of the Immortal Village!"

Ye Mo declared.

"To the sea in search of immortals?"

"Do you have the map to the Immortal Village?"

"Didn’t Zheng Yiqing claim only he possessed the map?"

The warriors were stunned.

"Indeed! Since I have the Golden Spirit Sword, why couldn’t I have the map as well? Zheng Yiqing has one, but so do I! If not for the lack of a raft and sufficient provisions, I would have already set sail!"

Ye Mo smiled.

"We are willing to follow Brother Ye!"

"As am I!"

The warriors rejoiced, submitting to Ye Mo with willing hearts. So long as they could continue their quest for immortality, what did it matter if Ye Mo was their leader?