Empress Fu Yao [Volume 2] (Completed)✔

Rising Dust

Before Meng Fuyao's voice fell, she heard the orderly clattering of hooves – ferocious, sharp, powerful and tough – effectively exuding an aura of death and might.

Meng Fuyao looked up and for a moment, mistook the sudden emergence of the black sheet wave on the western slope as a sign that she was about to pass out. The leading horseman raised his sword, and the whole wave of black-armored soldiers followed suit, before charging right into the enemy formation. These men controlled their reins and galloped full speed ahead, releasing rain-like arrows and chopping their enemies as though they were vegetables. From their ruthless and careless attacks, it was clear that these people were Zhan Beiye's.

But how could it be?

The strongest troop, Dark Wind Horses, were well known in all nations. While it consisted of only a few thousand horsemen, each member had the ability to take on a hundred enemies and own the battlefield. Their achievements were glorious, and they were a presence feared by the Moluo Nation, situated in the western region. How did such a troop cross Wuji Nation border? And how could they have appeared here?

Hearing the man behind her laughing out loud and feeling his shaking chest against her back, Meng Fuyao heard him say, "I arrived much earlier, but turned back to wait for these brothers. We charged our way through the border."

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Meng Fuyao was speechless. 'This man... he is going to die one day without even knowing why.'

Zhan Beiye mumbled, "It's strange, now that I think of it. The border troops stopped pursuing after a while, leaving us at a darn mountain area, and when we finally exited, we were already close by."

He narrowed his eyes, focusing on the intense battle that was ongoing. "Damn it, got used by him again... I must get back at him."

Meng Fuyao turned her head doubtfully. "Eh?" she let out, as Zhan Beiye looked at her blood-stained face and clotted eyelashes. Her body was filled with so many wounds that he daren't touch her. Her appearance, no different from that of a tiny, severely injured beast, silenced him.

How much must she have fought? With a character like hers, unless forced to a dead end, there was no way she would end her own life. Who had the power to render her so helpless and desperate?

And where was that man when she was suffering? Alright... he had military affairs to attend to, but how could he have let her fall into such a perilous situation?

And himself as well... how he wanted to punch himself in the face. If he hadn't been so poor with directions and gotten lost deep in the mountains, and if he hadn't bumped into one of the ten strongest fighters, also known as "the Fog", provoking her to set up all sort of obstacles within the area, he could have arrived half a month earlier. Thus, she wouldn't have been beaten down to this state.

Zhan Beiye's mind went blank when he saw her raising her sword, ready to take her own life. As such, his hand slipped, and he had only managed to chop off an ear of his enemy. Anxious and left without a choice, he swung his sword, flinging it toward her as an intervention.

Upon his attempt, he felt his body turn cold. He hadn't channeled any inner energy into his toss and was certain that it wasn't going to be enough to counter Meng Fuyao's strength.

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Fortunately, she was already extremely weak, and an ear was sufficient to knock her weapon off.

She had almost died before his very eyes.

Remorseful, Zhan Beiye wanted very much to tear his hair out to stop her wounds from bleeding. He looked on as the sinister-looking flesh blossomed, feeling as though he was about to suffocate. After some thought, he removed his overcoat and wrapped it around her. "Bear with it and wait for me."