Chapter 414: “The Secret Pouch”

“Water carry boats, but can also capsize it!”

Staring at the powerful calligraphy on the paper slip in his hand, Yan Wuyong stood frozen in place.

The next moment, scenes from his past flashed before his eyes like a spinning lantern:

He saw the warm smile of the old farmer when he helped plow the land; the determined gaze of the child to whom he gave his meager food, while he himself went hungry…

Countless moments from when he aided the common people—everything he had witnessed and experienced—flashed rapidly before his eyes.

When the visions stopped, each of those deeds for the people transformed into streaks of light that filled the 8 words on the paper slip.

The originally black ink began to glow with golden light.

Suddenly, the once-light paper felt incomparably heavy in his hand—so heavy, he could barely hold onto it.

In the square, watching Yan Wuyong frantically pull out a cloth pouch and retrieve a slip of paper from it, only to freeze again, Emperor Ye narrowed his eyes and mockingly said,
“What’s this? Could it be that your strategist left you a brilliant scheme in a secret pouch?”

“What’s written on it?”

“Can such a measly paper slip help you escape your doom?”

Seeing Yan Wuyong remain silent, a sense of unease welled up in Emperor Ye’s heart. He barked coldly, “Enough with your tricks! Seize him!”

Suddenly, with a thunderous roar, the armored troops charged at Yan Wuyong in unison!

Buzz~ Buzz~

With a crisp hum, the armored soldiers surrounding Yan Wuyong were instantly blasted away.

In the blink of an eye, a gaping hole was blown open in the once impenetrably barricaded great hall.

At the same time, Yan Wuyong felt the weight in his hand lighten—the first word, “Water”, had dimmed.

Realizing something, he abruptly lifted his head and sprinted toward General Niu, who lay in a pool of blood. Hoisting the corpse onto his shoulder with a mighty heave, he roared and charged outside!

The sudden turn of events threw Emperor Ye into panic. No one had expected Yan Wuyong to possess such a method—whatever it was, it seemed even more terrifying than his own executioner’s axe!

“You bastard emperor! I’ll butcher you myself!”

Seeing the frenzied Yan Wuyong charging straight for him, Emperor Ye turned and fled!

And yet, the young civil official beside him didn’t run—instead, he stepped forward!

In a desperate move, he opened a jade box containing a venomous gu and flung it at Yan Wuyong like a hidden weapon!

As the sinister and fearsome gu emerged, the surrounding air turned chillingly cold. However, unless it had already taken over a human host, it did little beyond disturbing the mind.

For Yan Wuyong, whose chest now burned with nothing but vengeance, nothing could shake his spirit!

Thus, before the mother-and-child gu could take effect, both it and its master were cleaved in two.

Yet, it was precisely this civil official’s self-sacrificing move that bought just enough time for the Golden Guard who had been guarding Emperor Ye to whisk him away to safety!

Simultaneously, the armored soldiers and the Demon-Slaying Enforcer once again blocked Yan Wuyong’s path!

But this time, they couldn’t even get within five steps of him before another flash of radiant light exploded outward, flinging the dozens of armored soldiers and Golden Guards in all directions!

Crack!

The Demon-Slaying Enforcer, sent flying, coughed up a mouthful of blood. The Xuanhua battle-axe in his hand—crafted from a bronze statue bestowed by Ye Zhiqing—shattered into pieces.

Watching in disbelief, he roared, “Yan Wuyong! What kind of sorcery is this?!”

Ignoring him entirely, Yan Wuyong gazed at Emperor Ye, who had just been carried over the palace walls and disappeared from sight. Though his heart brimmed with rage and resentment, he clenched his teeth and charged toward the palace gates.

The secret pouch gifted to me by Mr. Gu still holds six words imbued with mystical energy. I must escape—
Or I won’t be able to avenge this!
And the elders and folks by the Meng River… they’ll suffer too!

Yan Wuyong also harbored a sliver of hope—that some of the ten thousand brothers outside the palace might still be alive.

And so, he poured every ounce of strength into his escape…

In less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, Yan Wuyong, moving with incredible speed, arrived at a vast open courtyard in the outer palace. The place was lit up with lanterns and decorated festively, tables laden with feast dishes—yet not a single dish had been touched.

At those tables sat grayish-white stone statues. With just one glance, he recognized the thin, lanky statue at the nearest table.

“Goudan!” Yan Wuyong stumbled forward and reached out, his hand brushing the statue named Goudan.

That strange sensation—like plunging his hand into fine sand.

Crash!

The statue, frozen in a seated posture, crumbled into a pile of shimmering silver sand…

“Goudan!”
“Old He!”
“Shiwu!”

Tears of blood streamed from Yan Wuyong’s eyes as he recognized statue after statue around him—each one a brother, a villager, a fellow demon slayer!

“You damn emperor!” Yan Wuyong howled. “These men were iron-blooded warriors who died to protect our homeland!”

“You got your hands on that copper mirror passed down from the Immortal Sect—and you used it on your own people!”

“You damn emperor! I swear I’ll flay you alive!”

Whether it was Yan Wuyong’s thunderous roar that shattered the statues, or the soldiers silently seeing their king burst through the gates and finally finding peace… one by one, the statues crumbled into fine silver sand.

“Loose the arrows!”

A sharp voice rang out from behind the palace walls!

Swish! Swish! Swish!

A cacophony of whistling broke the air as blazing arrows rained down from all directions, lighting up the dark sky with a dazzling brilliance.

Yet just as another word on Yan Wuyong’s paper slip dimmed, all the flaming arrows vanished—as if they had never existed.

Now, only four word remained on the slip: “can also capsize it”, still glowing with divine light.

Knowing he could delay no longer, Yan Wuyong sprinted forward with General Niu’s body slung over his shoulder.

Outside the palace, countless soldiers were already waiting for him.

Spearmen, shield-bearers, cavalry—neatly arranged in formation, guarding the palace perimeter. From above, it looked like a black, surging river encircling the entire palace.

But alas, before the might of the spiritual, sheer numbers meant little. With the last of the slip’s words exhausted, Yan Wuyong, having seized a swift horse, finally burst through the gates of Great Wu’s capital…