Chapter 431: The Dreadful Axe

Outside Yinsha Prefecture, the vast plains that should have been blanketed in white snow had been engulfed by a black flood. The million-strong army of the Yan Southern Army stretched out in a single, unbroken line, like an indestructible iron dragon.

Shoulder to shoulder, foot to foot, their armor glinted cold and hard under the snowy light, and in the eyes of every soldier burned a fierce will to fight.

At the front of the formation stood Yan Wuyong, clad in heavy armor and gripping a woodcutting axe, like an unshakable mountain.

The axe in his hands wasn’t ornate, but it exuded a weight that even divine weapons lacked. Its edge gleamed coldly under the snowlight, radiating a primal aura of slaughter.

Creak—!

The gates of Yinsha Prefecture swung wide open, and one ragged figure after another was driven out by the demon army.

Hunched old men, youth with vacant eyes, women trembling all over…

Their eyes held fear, confusion, and despair—but not even a sliver of vitality.

As time passed, more and more civilians were driven from the gates. All were clad in thin, sackcloth-like rags, shivering violently in the cold wind.

In just a short while, several of the elderly and weak stiffened and collapsed into the snow.

Upon the city wall stood the burly Lei Zhen, cradling a wine jar as he drank and looked out at the endless ranks of the Yan Southern Army. The fluttering Yan banner stabbed at his eyes like a thorn.

Especially that woodcutting axe in Yan Wuyong’s hand—just a glimpse from the corner of his eye sent cold sweat pouring down his back.

“Yan Wuyong!”

“We agreed! I’d shelter these 200,000 civilians, and you’d just provide food!”

“Couldn’t we have lived in peace? Huh?!”

“Why insist on killing?!”

“What, do you think these commoners eat too much?!”

Saying this, Lei Zhen turned toward the civilians below and roared, “Why aren’t you begging for mercy already?! Tell Emperor Yan it’s fine if you eat a little less! Beg him for grace, ask him to spare your lives!”

At his shout, scattered cries and sobs rang out below. Many were already so starved they couldn’t see clearly or even tell where the Yan army stood. They only knew that if they didn’t beg or kowtow, they’d be killed by the demon soldiers beside them.

In moments, the cries of nearly 200,000 civilians merged into one, carried on the cold wind and piercing the ears of every soldier in the Yan Southern Army.

At the front lines, as Advisor Liu prepared to step forward and urge action, Yan Wuyong suddenly stepped out.

With each step, he declared:

“Fellow villagers, I do this with no choice… Yan is ashamed before you all!”

At the third step, he fell to his knees before the million-strong army, the 200,000 civilians, and the city of demons—bowing his head to the ground with a resounding thud.

When he stood again, there was no longer a trace of hesitation in his eyes. Lifting his axe high, he roared:

“The people of this world have suffered long at the hands of the demon race—today, we purge the demonic scourge!”

“Kill!”

A thunderous shout of “Kill!” erupted in unison from a million soldiers—a single, simple word, but brimming with the fury of countless warriors, shaking heaven and earth.

Amid this roar, a terrifying aura surged from the ranks like a storm, condensing in the sky above into a colossal, spectral axe!

Forged from the murderous will of a million troops, the axe’s edge gleamed with unmatched sharpness, its body glowing with a dark, profound light, as if it could cleave through all obstacles under heaven.

The giant axe slowly rose, hovering above the army, blotting out half the sky.

As it ascended, the air itself began to distort violently, as if the very space could not withstand its immense force.

Then, it began its slow descent toward the ancient city.

Though its movement was not fast, every inch of descent seemed to weigh ten thousand pounds, pressing the air into bursts of explosion-like cracks.

With every inch it dropped, the suffocating aura grew thicker, filling every onlooker with an indescribable dread.

Underneath, both civilians and demon soldiers stared blankly at the descending axe, the same word flashing through their minds—

Death!

Countless avian demons instinctively reverted to their true forms and tried to flee skyward, desperate to escape the axe’s range.

But to their horror, the moment they took flight, they were shredded into pieces by the axe’s aura midair!

Blood mist exploded in the sky, drifting down like red snow.

At last, Lei Zhen could no longer keep calm. He realized Yan Wuyong truly meant to slaughter the civilians alongside the demons.

Gripped by the terror of death, Lei Zhen smashed his wine jar and screamed hysterically:

“Yan Wuyong! You ungrateful bastard! These people waited every day for you to save them—some of them surely helped your Yan army before!”

“And now look how you treat them! Worse than animals!”

“You repay kindness with cruelty—slaughtering 200,000 civilians just for your dream of unifying the realm!”

“They’re just powerless commoners! Never had a good day in their lives—and now they’re going to die by your hand?!”

“Where’s your conscience?! Huh?!”

Screaming until hoarse, Lei Zhen finally leapt from the city wall and landed before Yan Wuyong, falling to his knees.

“Emperor Yan! I give the people back to you—just spare us!”

“I’ll take the demons back to Northern Huangtian and never step out again!”

“I beg you!”

“200,000 lives! For their sake, please put away the blade!”

But no matter how Lei Zhen begged, Yan Wuyong’s gaze remained firm. He gripped the axe with both hands, steadily pressing downward. If it weren’t so taxing to command the aura of a million soldiers, he would’ve already brought the axe down—lest his resolve waver at the sight of those fearful faces.

Just as the giant axe was about to crash down upon the city walls—

The sky split open.

A middle-aged man, dressed in plain robes, with sword-like brows and starry eyes, stepped calmly from the rift, standing suspended in midair.

The moment he appeared, the colossal axe hanging in the sky froze—unable to descend even a hair further.

His expression was calm as still water, and his deep eyes swept over all below—like a monarch surveying his realm.

He made no grand gestures. Just a casual flick of his sleeve, as though brushing away a speck of dust.

But it was this light flick—

That caused the massive axe, formed of a million soldiers’ murderous aura, to instantly collapse into stardust and vanish without a trace.

This terrifying scene left the Yan army wide-eyed in shock, and caused Yan Wuyong’s throat to go tight with a bitter taste of blood—he nearly coughed up a mouthful…