Late Night Tales Of The Capital Chapter 81 Skewed Four In One Go Like A Candied Hawthorn Stick

In no time at all.

Ye Que tamed the extremely wild Cloud-hoofed Red Hare. The hare had no choice because it could feel, through its human-like cloud-hooves, that the youngster in front of it would definitely keep his word and kill it.

No matter how wild the hare was, it was nonetheless one that knew its capabilities. This logic was particularly evident in the world of beasts.

The Cloud-hoofed Red Hare shook its head, the size of a horse or a deer's head, and curled its thick lips. It shook its large b.u.t.tocks with force and even blinked its large eyes. Its meaning was clear without needing to be verbalized. Not only it had completely surrendered, but it was also trying its best to placate its new master.

Ye Que ignored the beast and took out a 10-meter-long pike from the spice bag tied to his waist. Initially, he had prepared the pike for Qian Shuhua but he discovered it when inspecting his spice bag yesterday. The stubborn girl must have secretly put the pike inside. It happened to come in handy now.

Howling rang throughout the dark wasteland.

It was as if the wolves were announcing the completion of their siege.

Giving the Cloud-hoofed Red Hare a pat on its head, Ye Que climbed onto it. He raised his head and looked at the faint shadows in three directions.

For now, the pack of wolves and the Demon Race were quietly standing at a distance and coolly watching Ye Que's group. It was as if they were signaling the beginning of a feast of death. The cold wind whistled as it pierced deep into everyone's bones. Even breathing became labored. Breaths of white air escaped their mouth before dissipating in the air.

"Tread!"

No one bellowed or screamed.

With a slight force, Ye Que charged forward like an arrow shot out of a mythical bow.

A wisp of wind swept past everyone's cheeks while their guard was down. After a moment of hesitation, they frantically ran toward the cliff in the south. Human thoughts were a form of inertia; while making a decision was difficult, it didn't take much determination to go according to the flow.

"South? So be it. We won't be the first to die either way." Though the group had taken Ye Que's advice, most of them were still doubtful. No one believed that he would accomplish his task.

Three directions, thousands of wolves, nearly a hundred warriors of the Demon Race. How could they be lured away so easily?

Ye Que, riding on the back of the Cloud-hoofed Red Hare, was charging toward the east with his head lowered and the 10-meter-long pike in his hand pointed backward. His eyes were bright and full of life.

The sound of cloud-hooves treading on the dark wasteland was urgent and forceful. From the sound of it, the hare's every step seemed capable of causing the ground to shake and leaving a cloud of fine sand in its wake. The human and beast gradually picked up speed. From afar, they looked like a scarlet blade.

In the sky above the dark wasteland, the morning sun dyed the clouds a brilliant red. The mood gradually became solemn amid the sound of hooves. Be it wolves, humans, or warriors of the Demon Race, all felt their heart tightened and blood boiling.

The charging of a single person had signaled the start of the battle.

In Ye Que's vision, the dark shadows gradually became visible. Tens of burly men wearing animal-skin armor stood in the middle of a large pack of wolves. Judging from the black-and-white totem on their cheek, these were members of the Five Main Tribes of Wind, Thunder, Water, Fire, and Mountain. All clans were gathered here.

In the face of Ye Que charging at them, the siege in the east didn't seem to waver in the slightest. In fact, the troops didn't even move.

Every gaze, including that of the wolves, was on Ye Que. They looked at him like he was a corpse.

He was someone who was about to die.

He was an idiot who struggled in vain, hoping to invent a miracle, in the face of death!

But was it possible?

Feng Xingmo didn't believe that a miracle would happen.

"Kill him," he said placidly.

His voice hadn't even faded when a muscular guy with totems covering all of his skin charged out with a bellow. The warriors of the Demon Race were all bloodthirsty savages who were born with a love for battles. Naturally, they would unleash the entirety of their character in the ley lines of sovereignty of the Imperial Mausoleum. They were free to kill whoever they wanted without having to worry about bearing the consequences.

After all, a dead man wouldn't be able to seek revenge.

The muscular warrior with totems all over his skin was a six-star cultivator in the Psychic Realm, though he was close to entering the Starburst Realm. Facing the weak-looking Ye Que, he naturally felt no worry. He ran out, holding a ma.s.sive black hammer in one hand.

Soon, Ye Que's red figure collided with the muscular warrior. The warrior lifted his ma.s.sive hammer high up in the air and green Spiritual Light swirled around him. Then, he swung it down on Ye Que with tremendous force.

"Tch!"

The radiance of the Spiritual Force around Ye Que didn't even flicker before he perforated the muscular man with his pike. The tremendous impact caused the head of the pike to pierce through the muscular man's chest. The muscular man that was at least 200 pounds heavy was killed by the pike just like that.

Then, the pike trembled and sent the muscular man flying more than a few meters away.

If the others hadn't seen this with their own eyes, who would believe that a Physic Realm warrior of the Demon Race dropped dead after being pierced once by a pike? However, this was the truth. If someone went up to examine the muscular man, they would notice something in his chest. The radiance of Spiritual Force didn't flash at all. That was because Ye Que wasn't using his True Energy but Divine Energy.

Divine Energy, found only in the Cultivation World, was imbued in the pike attack. It wasn't something a Psychic Realm cultivator could withstand.

Ye Que slowed his pace but his direction remained the same. The mocking smirk on his face was evident to everyone. It was as if he was saying, "Is that a warrior of the Demon Race? Pretty overrated, isn't it? To fall after just one strike!"

His mockery was clearly reflected in the eyes of the group in front of him.

Three silhouettes rushed out without waiting for Feng Xingmo's instruction.

Once again, they roared. Only this time, they didn't recklessly charge toward Ye Que. Even though they couldn't see the fluctuation of Spiritual Force in Ye Que's body, they were sure that he had used a certain skill earlier.

Eventually, a man from the Wind Tribe speedily recited an incantation. The black sand on the ground suddenly rose. A yellow dragon of smoke, dust, and soil emerged out of a cloud of endless sand and charged at Ye Que. The dragon even blocked the vision of the Cloud-hoofed Red Hare.

The two other warriors borrowed the force of Sudden Thunderclap and put forth fists of raging flames respectively.

Three warriors.

Three directions.

They closed in on Ye Que.

The wind carrying sand, smoke, and dust rapidly spread from one meter to three meters, before finally forming a seven-meter-tall wall. It enveloped all four of them. The cry of the Cloud-hoofed Red Hare pierced through the wall of the wind, followed by three roars and six clanging sounds of iron colliding.

A brief moment later, all sound ceased. The mood became as stiff and uncomfortable as if a screeching rooster suddenly had its neck snapped.

The wind of sand, smoke, and dust rose swiftly and died even more swiftly. In the blink of an eye, it had completely dissipated into the air.

The three warriors had surrounded a single person earlier. In the end, three died, leaving only one survivor.

The door of the three men's heart, where their Spirit Sea resided, was perforated with several identical holes. The holes cut through their heart.

Ye Que remained on the back of the blood-red Cloud-hoofed Red Hare, staring disdainfully in Feng Xingmo's direction. Lying disorderly next to the Cloud-hoofed Red Hare were three corpses. One of them was a muscular man from the Wind Tribe, a youngster from the Thunder Tribe, and a man from the Fire Tribe. The three of them were staring with their eyes open, having died with grievances!

The bitterly cold wind in the dark wasteland came sweeping, hitting Feng Xingmo on the face hard enough to make a resounding noise and leave a burning sensation. Four warriors from the Demon Race were all dead within two rounds of battle. To make things worse, their opponent was a mere young Rogue Cultivator in the Psychic Realm.

Blatant humiliation.

An irrefutable, crus.h.i.+ng defeat.

Even if Feng Xingmo had thicker skin than the city wall, he was nevertheless ashamed at this moment. It was unbearable for him to see that look on Ye Que's face!

One's temperament was shaped by his environment and cultivated by his experience. It was a slow and gradual process over the years. Ye Que had experienced more than a hundred years of ups and downs. His battles against the Demon Race alone amounted to decades. The deaths he had witnessed, as well as the bloodthirstiness he had sniffed, were probably more than what the people here had witnessed altogether.

Thus, Ye Que was calm. He was used to staying calm.

He gripped the pike in his hand.

He wielded the Spirit Sword, Straw Dog Sword, in his other hand calmly in front of all the warriors of the Demon Race. With four strikes of his sword, he had decapitated four heads and calmly skewered them with his 10-meter-long pike.

The four heads on the pike made it look like a stick of candied hawthorn.

He sat still.

Straightened his body.

Raised his pike.

Ye Que's gaze swept the warriors of the Demon Race nearby, including Feng Xingmo. Then, a smirk appeared on his face. He emptied one of his hands, steadily lifted it, and placed it in front of his chest to slowly make an obvious gesture.

In the Demon Race, this gesture was equivalent to a slap in the face. In fact, in many circ.u.mstances, it was even more destructive than simply slapping someone on the face. It wasn't a mere humiliation but a disgrace of the beliefs of all warriors of the Demon Race and a degradation of their souls. The moment this gesture appeared among the Demon Race, it inevitably meant the beginning of a life-and-death battle that wouldn't end until one side died.

The air stiffened at this moment.

White streams of vapor slowly emerged from the nostrils of the group of Demon Race warriors and rose into the air. Their chest heaved as they breathed and their eyes gradually turned a scarlet red.

The warriors stared fixedly at Ye Que's face and four decapitated heads on his pike.

Their rage began rus.h.i.+ng to their brain!

This was the greatest difference between demons and humans. Sometimes, humans were able to control their urges because they knew recklessness was the act of the devil. However, demons found it nearly impossible to restrain their anger. In their mind, the debt of blood must always be repaid in kind and no other option would be entertained.

Ye Que didn't drop his hand gesture. He slowly turned around and allowed his pike to touch the ground. The head nearest to the tip of the pike began making contact with the ground. He gently pressed both of his legs onto the abdomen of the Cloud-hoofed Red Hare, prompting the hare to make a light stomp and begin jogging in small steps. Instantly, the head of the Demon Race warrior began rubbing against the black grains of sand on the ground.

A trail of eye-catching bloodstain appeared in his vision.

Feng Xingmo had detected something strange about the whole situation, especially about the youngster in front of him. Unless he was trying to dig his own grave, he must be up to some trick. However, when he saw the bloodstain on the ground, he knew his words would fall on deaf ears. That was because some emotions were impossible to restrain.

With a sigh, he slowly raised his hand above his head and abruptly pointed to Ye Que.

"Behead him!"

In a split second, more than ten Spirit Lights flashed and Spirit Beasts of varying heads appeared in front of the warriors alongside several hundred black wolves. The beasts charged forth like a tide upon a sh.o.r.e.

"Kill!"

Continuous sounds of anger resounded as all Demon Race warriors, including those leading the charge on the back of Spirit Beasts or the beasts that were madly charging, stared ahead with red eyes. There was nothing in their vision except for Ye Que and the pike behind him.

Several hundreds of cloud of dust and soil rose into the air. Ye Que retreated from the east with a black cloud overhead and made his way westward.

Through some unknown method, the Demon Race warriors and wolves in the north appeared to have received their command and were charging in this direction at the same time.

The parameter of the siege began to tighten. Meanwhile, Nalan Rongruo and 30-something of her fellow Qingqiu disciples just happened to arrive at the cliff in the south at this moment.

The ground began shaking under them, signaling the beginning of the cracking.

After glancing at the two clouds of smoke and dust in the distance, Yan Ziyue narrowed his eyes and yelled, "Keep up your spirits! The moment the ground starts cracking, we'll run north. But don't run too quickly; try to avoid any collision with the Demon Race as much as possible. If Ye Que somehow manages to lure the Demon Race away, only then will we pick up speed and fight for a chance to escape the siege."