Chapter Eleven: The Ambush Troop—The Suicide Squad

The envoy’s orders had finally arrived.

On the evening after that vanguard battle, the envoy delivered the command: Gu Linglong was to lead a team to launch a surprise attack on the angels’ main stronghold.

“Damn it, isn’t this just sending us to our deaths?” Li Chengzhu erupted in fury.

In the vanguard battle, they had killed over thirty thousand enemies, but only one six-winged angel among them—and that was achieved by more than a dozen Nascent Soul masters launching a suicide assault, self-destructing their cores at close range to take the angel down.

Even the cultivators were burning with rage after this war. Watching their comrades fall one by one at their side, unable even to let their souls escape, they had long cast aside any thoughts of heavenly law or the cycle of slaughter, focusing only on taking as many angels with them as possible in vengeance.

Though they managed to drive the angels back, the Immortal Realm fared no better. Without anyone strong enough to challenge a six-winged angel, their casualties were far heavier than the angels’, and less than half of those dispatched had returned.

This battle, lost!

“Damn that envoy—his words are even more pleasant than a brat’s fart!” Li Chengzhu grumbled. “He actually has the nerve to claim that now, while the enemy is complacent in their victory and their guard is down, we should deliver them a heavy blow. I say he just wants to use us as cannon fodder!”

Xiao Ying curled her lip nearby. “We’ve already been cannon fodder in his eyes for a long time.”

“If you don’t want to go, no one’s forcing you. After all, you volunteered. You could still run back and save your neck,” Qiu Feng fanned the flames.

Li Chengzhu picked a large booger from his nose, flicked it aside, and sneered at Qiu Feng, “You don’t need to provoke me. If I want to go, I’ll go; if I don’t, I won’t—nobody can stop me.”

“Exactly. A wise man adapts to circumstances. With your cultivation, even if you run, no one will blame you.” Qiu Feng pressed his palms together, extended and retracted his neck, mimicking a turtle diving underwater. “A little patience never hurt anyone.”

Everyone recognized the turtle dive for what it was, and Xiao Ying was struggling not to burst out laughing.

Watching their twitching shoulders, Li Chengzhu could clearly see they were on the verge of internal injury from holding back laughter.

“If you want to laugh, then laugh! Damn it, why hold it in?” Li Chengzhu snapped, glaring at Qiu Feng. “Who said I’m not going? You think I’d miss out on this kind of fun?” He sized up Qiu Feng, “I’m curious to see how long you can cling to life, Lord Qiu.”

Qiu Feng smiled calmly. “Glad to hear it. Don’t worry, even if you die, I won’t. I’ll make sure to recover your corpse with all my strength.”

Li Chengzhu stared coldly at Qiu Feng. “Much obliged, Lord Qiu.”

“No need for thanks—we’re comrades-in-arms, after all! Hahaha.”

Comrades-in-arms? Comrades my ass! Just don’t stab me in the back and I’ll call it brotherhood. Li Chengzhu rolled his eyes to the heavens.

The assembly order came quickly, and Gu Linglong led the group as they flew to the designated rally point.

There were ten thousand heading out on this raid. Among them were a hundred immortals, each leading a company of a hundred—meaning the elite from a hundred immortal cities had been gathered for this mission.

No one knew how many of these ten thousand would return alive.

The Immortal Emperor was certainly being circumspect—Li Chengzhu muttered inwardly. After all this fighting, not a single upper immortal had been sent—only cannon fodder for the front lines.

Did he think that if all the cannon fodder died, even if the war was won, the Immortal Realm would still have a future?

Damn it, why am I worrying about this? Li Chengzhu cursed inwardly. That was the old man’s business. All he needed to do was keep himself alive, and if possible, also protect his beloved future wife and Xiao Ying.

But seeing their cultivation, Li Chengzhu felt another stab of frustration—it was high time he improved his own skills. Otherwise, he’d have to rely on his wife to protect him, and where would his dignity be then?

The forward scouts made a special trip back this time to brief the ten thousand on the angels’ camp layout.

Unlike the cultivators, the angels weren’t all gathered together, but divided into three large sections.

Based on sensed spiritual pressure waves, they seemed to be grouped by strength for their rest quarters.

This discovery brought hope to what had seemed like a suicide mission.

The largest section contained two hundred thousand angels, but only two-winged and four-winged ones, and even that area was divided into many smaller sections.

The task of the raid was to kill as many angels as possible within the time it took for a stick of incense to burn—any longer, and they risked being surrounded. After explaining the mission, the scout cast a sympathetic glance over the group—perhaps not a single one would return.

Once the commander had delivered his rousing address, the ten thousand set out, prepared to die.

“Damn it all!” Li Chengzhu muttered under his breath.

Xiao Ying frowned at him. “Can’t you be a bit more civilized? Your mouth is filthy!”

“Civilized? Will civilization keep me alive?” Li Chengzhu was growing ever more dissatisfied with this raid. They’d said there were two hundred thousand two- and four-winged angels there—couldn’t a few Immortal Lords just wipe them out? Why send this so-called raid squad, which was in truth just a suicide team of cultivators?

Li Chengzhu even suspected there were some personal enemies of the commander in this suicide squad. Why else would he think of such schemes as using someone else’s knife to kill?

The hundred following Gu Linglong showed no fear on their faces, but they were all deeply worried.

The triplets, especially, kept moving their lips as if plotting something.

Are they thinking of deserting? Li Chengzhu thought maliciously.

And Qiu Feng—why was that bastard so happy? He was bouncing along behind Gu Linglong like a puppy. Perhaps he thought Li Chengzhu was about to die?

Li Chengzhu chuckled coldly to himself. Did they really think he’d die so easily?

Nearby, one man standing on his flying sword was shaking so hard that even the sword wobbled like a drunkard.

“Are you afraid, friend?” Li Chengzhu couldn’t help asking the unfamiliar man.

The man glared at him from atop his sword. “What do you think?” Then, noticing Li Chengzhu’s calm demeanor, he asked curiously, “Aren’t you scared?”

“What’s there to be afraid of? At worst, I’ll just lose my head and get a scar—no big deal.” Li Chengzhu spread his hands.

A look of admiration appeared on the man’s face. “You’ve got guts, friend. My name is Ding Ziwei. And you are?”

Ziwei. Self-defense? Self-pleasure?

Li Chengzhu coughed dryly, cupped his fists, and said, “Li Chengzhu.”

“An honor, an honor!”

“A pleasure, a pleasure!”

Li Chengzhu couldn’t help but retch inwardly. He was just a nobody—what honor could there be in that? Damn.