Rebirth: Phoenix Riding the Ninth Heaven

Though the raging north wind and the blizzard of snow had subsided, the bitter cold showed no mercy to the poor people. The temperature continued to plummet, until even water froze. Desperate, the people huddled in their carefully constructed shelters to shield themselves from the icy cold. The snowflakes no longer fell from the sky; the world seemed blanketed in a thick blanket of silver, a scene of tranquility and peace. However, amidst this seemingly peaceful world, there was no sign of birds, no cries of beasts, and no trace of human activity.

In the utter silence of the night, a shrill howl suddenly erupted, like a thunderbolt piercing the night sky, instantly shattering the tranquility. Then, a group of men dressed in Xiongnu clothing appeared, stealthily emerging like ghosts. Under cover of darkness, they stalked unnoticed to a safe house in the village. Taking advantage of the stillness of the night, these bandits crept up on the night watchman and struck, their sharp blades mercilessly slicing through the guard's throat, sending blood splattering everywhere.

A sleepy Yang Xing was awakened by the unsettling sounds outside. In the dim moonlight, he could vaguely discern a group of thugs, wielding gleaming machetes, charging menacingly into the safe house. While the people were still sound asleep, the thugs, like hungry wolves pouncing on their prey, madly brandished their weapons, wantonly hacking and slaughtering innocent villagers. For a moment, the once peaceful village was plunged into a bloody nightmare...

Yang Xing was soundly asleep when he was suddenly awakened by a strong urge to urinate. He groggily opened his eyes, rubbed his sleepy eyes, and prepared to head to the toilet. However, just as he sat up, in the dim moonlight, he saw ghostly figures appear in front of him! These dark figures, wielding sharp blades, furiously hacked at innocent villagers.

Yang Xing was instantly terrified. He opened his mouth to scream for help, but his throat seemed blocked, and he could only let out a sharp, short scream. Due to the distance, his shouts seemed unable to reach those nearby. However, the sudden scream still managed to wake the sleeping people from their sweet dreams.

Some people were sleeping too soundly and had not reacted to what was happening for a while before they were knocked to the ground by the ferocious Huns. Blood gushed out and dyed a large area of ​​land red. Some people reacted quickly. The moment they sensed danger, they stood up without hesitation and ran away from the Huns. Some brave young men did not choose to escape, but resolutely picked up the carrying poles, farm tools and other tools in their hands and started a fierce fight with the Huns.

Amidst the shrill howls and cries of agony, some people tragically perished under the sword, becoming innocent souls; others, taking advantage of the chaos, managed to escape. As for the defenseless women and children, they could only retreat in terror, their screams rising and falling, completely shattering the tranquility of the night.

Yang Xing suddenly realized what was happening. His eyes widened, his face filled with rage, and he shouted at the top of his lungs, "Men! Hurry up and pick up your weapons and fight them! If we don't fight to the death, these madmen will kill us all!"

You know, these abominable Xiongnu beasts have absolutely no conscience at all! They are simply inhumane and worse than beasts! Only by fighting bravely and recklessly can we fight our way out and survive!

For a long time, the people of the northwest region endured the frequent invasions and brutality of the Xiongnu. Over these long years, the relentless resistance to the invaders had been deeply ingrained in everyone's DNA. They knew that no matter how humble you tried, even if you had to hand over all your food, the merciless Xiongnu would never let you go.

These unscrupulous beasts knew only to slaughter all the adult men and then treat the poor women and young children as playthings, wantonly abusing them. When hunger struck, they would even brutally murder innocent women and children to fill their stomachs. Even more outrageous, the Xiongnu brutals referred to these defenseless civilians as "two-legged sheep," treating them like livestock to be slaughtered and enjoyed at any time.

Zhang Ermazi's eyes widened as he watched his loving mother tragically die under the butcher knives of those inhumane beasts, turning into a wisp of wronged spirit and drifting away. His eye sockets instantly turned red, as if blood could drip out. Anger erupted in his heart like a volcano. He gripped the slightly worn kitchen knife in his hand without hesitation and rushed forward with a roar like an enraged lion: "You damn beasts! I will fight you to the death!"

The Xiongnu looked at this desperate, pockmarked man running towards them, stunned at first, then burst into laughter. One of them sneered, "Haha, this guy actually dared to rush towards us with a broken kitchen knife. He really doesn't know how to live or die!" The leading Xiongnu man was even more disdainful. He waved his hand casually, signaling a sloppy subordinate beside him to go and finish off Zhang Ermazi.

The Hun man staggered to the front of Zhang Ermazi, raised the extremely sharp machete in his hand high, and chopped down at Zhang Ermazi mercilessly. With a crisp sound of "click", one of Zhang Ermazi's arms was instantly separated from his body, and blood spurted out like a fountain, splashing everywhere. The severe pain made Zhang Ermazi scream miserably. He fell to the ground in pain, rolling over and over, trying to relieve the heart-wrenching pain.

However, the ruthless Huns had no intention of letting him go. Seeing that Zhang Ermazi was powerless to fight back, they sought to deliver a fatal blow. One of them seized the opportunity, raised his machete high above his head, and was about to stab Zhang Ermazi in the heart. At this critical moment, a thick carrying pole suddenly came from behind the Hun and struck him hard in the back. The Hun was caught off guard, and a deep wound instantly appeared on his head, from which blood gushed out.

The Hun, struck hard, felt the pain and turned hastily to see who had attacked him. But before he could see who had attacked him, another heavy club fell from the sky, striking him squarely on the head. This time, the force was so immense that the Hun felt his vision go black, his body swayed a few times, and he fell straight to the ground, completely unconscious.

The man who attacked the Xiongnu was none other than Yang Xing! He had diligently practiced martial arts with his father in his early years, and years of training had given him considerable proficiency in both boxing and kicking. This, in turn, enabled him to react quickly to the Xiongnu's sudden attack. Yang Xing swiftly picked up the fallen Xiongnu machete and, with a single blow, slashed a Xiongnu's head to the ground.

The other Xiongnu nearby watched as Yang Xing easily decapitated their comrade. Their rage instantly flared, their eyes bloodshot. They shouted and swung their weapons, charging frantically at Yang Xing. Faced with this ferocious, wolf-like charge, Yang Xing chose not to confront them head-on. He nimbly dodged left and right, skillfully using his agility to evade the Xiongnu's numerous blockades and fierce attacks.

Meanwhile, a dozen or so Huns, each wielding gleaming swords, launched a bloody massacre within the shelter. These Huns were brutal and ruthless, slaughtering the inhabitants in the blink of an eye. However, the few men within the shelter who still had a shred of courage refused to sit idly by. Though they lacked sharp knives, armed only with simple tools like shoulder poles and blades, they rallied together, using their own flesh and blood to resist the Huns' rampage. While the situation remained dire, at least they had a slim chance of survival.

As the fierce battle between the Huns and the people in the safe house was in full swing, with no clear winner, the women and children huddled behind the men, young and old, trembling in fear. They watched helplessly as the Huns, like a murderous god descended to earth, covered in blood, bared their fangs and claws, showing off their might, frightening the women and children to death.

Despite the overwhelming fear within them, those men summoned their courage and stood firm in front, using their bodies to build an impenetrable defense for their children and wives, refusing to let these demons take a single step forward. Yang Xing, machete in hand, stood among the crowd, like a god of war, slashing towards the center. The two sides faced each other like two opposing mountains, and no one dared to take a single step forward.

The leading Hun, like an enraged lion, watched the scene with an impatient bark at his men, his roar piercing the heavens. Then, like hungry tigers pouncing on their prey, his men sharpened their swords, recklessly charging forward. Yang Xing watched the ferocious Huns charging forward, his machete swift and furious, slashing down at the arm of the first to charge. The Hun, intent on striking the man next to Yang Xing, was caught red-handed by Yang Xing because he couldn't pull back. With a snap, his knife-wielding hand ripped from his body like a severed branch, sending the Hun screaming in pain as if he were being butchered.