His innermost thoughts were revealed, and he ventured into a fictional dynasty with the system.

Youming once again ordered a truce to be posted. General Anyuan was not in a hurry when he heard this, as he also needed time to rest and recuperate. He found it somewhat amusing.

Whether the Netherworld was truly stupid or simply inexperienced, it failed to seize the opportunity to attack and instead chose to cease hostilities, allowing itself time to recuperate.

It's good that the enemy is like this; it's easier to attack them. We don't need to worry about troop deployment, and the casualties aren't too great. If all the opponents are like this, this expedition will be too comfortable.

Meanwhile, Youming was also pondering how to defeat General Anyuan. One good thing about the people of Tianxuan Kingdom was that they would not resort to underhanded tactics, but would only act openly and honestly.

I can make good use of this. If the city I'm personally guarding is lost again, I'm afraid I won't be able to return to the capital, and the emperor will definitely not give me the antidote again.

He pondered his next strategy repeatedly, mentally rehearsing the feasibility of various moves. He was convinced that as long as he could successfully kill General An Yuan, the rest of them would be nothing but ants and not a threat.

A day later, Youming arrived to fight, carrying many deadly poisons. His shadow, elongated by the sunlight, concealed a heart full of scheming and cunning.

He sat astride his horse, his eyes gleaming with a sinister light in the bright light, a barely perceptible smirk playing on his lips, as if victory were assured.

Upon seeing Youming appear, General Anyuan's aura instantly surged, like an enraged lion, and he quickly entered a state of battle readiness.

At this moment, Qin Qianluo, who was lying in ambush at the sniper position, had also set up her high-precision sniper rifle steadily, her sharp eyes locked on Youming's arm through the scope.

The corner where she hid was surrounded by grass that swayed gently in the breeze, occasionally reflecting a few dappled rays of sunlight.

Qin Qianluo did not intend to use a high-precision sniper rifle to finish off Youming directly, because the shameless act of poisoning on the battlefield had already enraged General Anyuan.

Only by personally beheading Youming can he vent his raging fury.

Youming made the first move, his legs clamping tightly around the horse's belly. The horse neighed and charged forward like a black lightning bolt.

The long sword in his hand gleamed with a blinding cold light under the sunlight, and he thrust it straight at General An Yuan's face. The ruthlessness and determination in his eyes seemed to want to tear the person in front of him to pieces.

When General An Yuan saw the long sword coming, a cold glint flashed in his eyes, like a cold star falling into a deep pool, arousing a chilling killing intent.

His feet moved lightly, like a dragonfly skimming the water, yet with a force of immense power. He dodged to the side, and the long sword whistled past him.

The sharp energy actually scratched a shallow white mark on his armor, like a wolf's claws leaving a shallow claw mark on a hard rock.

In an instant, the long sword in his hand emerged from its sheath with a clang, like a dragon emerging from the sea. The chilling sword light flashed like lightning, illuminating the dust flying around him.

With a swift, diagonal slash, the blade tore through the air, emitting a sharp whistling sound, like the cry of a night owl, aimed straight at the throat of the underworld. Wherever the sword wind reached, the withered grass on the ground was uprooted and scattered in all directions.

In his panic, Youming leaned back rapidly, his back almost touching the horse's rump. Cold sweat trickled down his face, leaving a wet trail in the swirling dust.

The sword tip narrowly missed his nose, sending a chill down his spine. At that moment, the battlefield dust was whipped up by the strong wind, fluttering like golden gauze under the blazing sun. Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the dust, forming beams of golden light.

Youming pulled hard on the reins, and the warhorse raised its head and neighed, its voice shaking the surrounding fields. Its front hooves were off the ground, and sparks flew as its horseshoes collided with the ground.

The sparks were like dazzling fireworks, fleeting in an instant. He used the momentum of his horse to turn around, swung his sword in a backhand motion, the blade flashing like a crescent moon, aiming for General An Yuan's waist.

Wherever the blade passed, the air seemed to be cleaved by the sharp edge, emitting a hissing sound. General An Yuan lightly touched the back of his horse with his toes and leaped gracefully into the air.

He spun rapidly in mid-air, his clothes fluttering in the wind, and his long sword spun into a dazzling sword flower, like a meteor falling to earth and piercing the top of the Netherworld.

As the sword blossoms, the faint sounds of wind and thunder accompany them. Youming's heart trembled, and he hurriedly raised his sword to parry. A loud clang rang out.

Like the resounding clang of a great bell, the sound of metal clashing ripped through the air, sparks flew everywhere, and dewdrops on the surrounding grass were shaken off, the glistening water droplets shattering in the dust and turning into fine mist that drifted into the air.

The two were locked in a fierce battle, neither gaining the upper hand. Youming's eyes darted around, and he attempted to use a trick, secretly reaching into his robes to retrieve the poison. Just as he took out the poison...

Qin Qianlu's eyes were sharp as she decisively pulled the trigger of the high-precision sniper rifle. With a "bang," the bullet flew like a runaway cheetah towards Youming's arm.

Wherever it passed, visible ripples spread through the air. Youming winced in pain, jerking his arm back, nearly dropping the poison.

His facial muscles contorted instantly, revealing pain and shock. His expression changed drastically, filled with both surprise and anger, yet he dared not make the slightest further move.

His eyes widened warily as he scanned his surroundings, trying to find the source of the hidden weapon. Veins bulged on his forehead, and cold sweat poured down his face.

General An Yuan was overjoyed. Instead of searching for the source of the hidden weapon, he seized the opportunity to suddenly change his swordsmanship and unleash the "Swift Wind Sword Technique." His figure moved like lightning, like a black bolt of lightning darting across the battlefield, his sword strikes raining down, dense and impenetrable.

The longsword, like a serpent spitting its tongue, flashes with cold light as it pierces the vital points of the underworld. Where it strikes, one can almost hear the "poof" sound of the air being pierced.

Or like a tiger swinging its tail, the sword uses the side of its blade to strike the opponent's longsword, each strike accompanied by the vibration of metal.

Or like Mount Tai pressing down, raising a long sword high, using the falling momentum to slash at the opponent's shoulder, the sword's force as if it could split the earth.

Or perhaps it's like a mad python turning over, the sword coiling around the waist, slashing at the side of the Netherworld, bringing with it a whistling sound.

Each sword strike carried immense power; as the sword shadows flickered, it was as if countless silver snakes were weaving and intertwining in the air, and the surrounding dust was swirled into small vortices by the sword wind.

Youming could only barely parry, his long sword wielded with impenetrable skill, yet he was still forced to retreat step by step by this fierce attack.

His breathing became increasingly rapid, his breath heavy like a bellows, his eyes filled with panic, his gaze wandered, and his steps began to falter.

General An Yuan spotted an opening and his longsword transformed into a streak of cold light, piercing straight into Youming's chest with the speed of a shooting star chasing the moon.

Youming dodged in a panic, but was still slashed on the shoulder by the sword. Blood instantly stained his clothes, the blood as bright as a blooming red lotus, dazzling in the sunlight.

The sharp pain from his wound made him stagger and nearly fall off his horse. He quickly grabbed the horse's mane with his left hand to steady himself.

But Youming was no ordinary person. He endured the pain, roared like thunder, and swung his sword in retaliation. This strike was infused with all his strength.

The wind howled, blowing away the dust in front and creating a fan-shaped clearing. General An Yuan remained calm and composed upon seeing this.

With a light step, he sidestepped the fierce attack like a feather, and at the same time, he swung his sword backhand, the hilt of which slammed heavily onto Youming's wrist holding the sword.

A dull thud echoed as the sword hilt struck his wrist. Youming winced in pain, nearly dropping the longsword, his fingers instantly going numb.

He gritted his teeth, squeezed his legs tightly around the horse's belly, and the warhorse, in pain, galloped wildly. Taking advantage of the horse's momentum, Youming attacked from the side with his sword, the blade flashing like a silver ribbon.

General An Yuan leaped high into the air, flipped in mid-air to dodge the attack, and drew a graceful arc with his long sword as he swung it down.

The sword aimed directly at Youming's face, its blade gleaming with a deathly cold light in the sunlight. Youming hurriedly tilted his head back to dodge, his helmet being knocked off by the sword, and a lock of his hair being cut off.

A few strands of hair fluttered in the air. At this moment, the battlefield was swept by howling winds, and the military flags fluttered fiercely, as if cheering on this life-or-death struggle.

The air was thick with the stench of blood and dust, a pungent odor that filled the air and made everyone want to vomit.

Seeing that the situation was not good, Youming's forehead veins bulged. He was anxious and wanted to activate the power of the sub-gu, but he was too flustered to concentrate.

At this moment, a fierce wind howled across the battlefield, with sand and stones flying everywhere. The wind seemed to have a mind of its own, swirling between the two, as if trying to interfere with this life-or-death struggle.

General An Yuan, with his keen eyesight, had already anticipated his movements. A disdainful sneer curled at the corner of his mouth, and with a cold snort, his sword aura swept towards Youming like a surging, raging tide.

His movements were nimble, as elusive as a ghost. He first skillfully used a feint, his longsword drawing a seemingly sharp but actually mysterious arc in the air.

This prompted Youming to instinctively swing his longsword to defend himself. In the instant the longsword deflected, General Anyuan lightly stepped forward and approached Youming like a gust of wind.

The longsword in his hand resembled a nimble dragon, winding and coiling along the blade of the Netherworld Blade before suddenly twisting it.

The force of this twisting was like Mount Tai pressing down, or the sound of a great bell ringing out. Accompanied by the sharp, ear-piercing sound of metal rubbing together, Youming felt as if his tiger's mouth had been blown apart, and the pain was unbearable.

He could no longer hold onto the long sword, which flew out of his hand, twirled a few times in the air, and then crashed to the ground with a thud, raising a cloud of dust.

General An Yuan swiftly stepped forward, his sword tip firmly pressed against Youming's throat. Youming could clearly feel the icy chill emanating from the sword tip.

The chill seemed to penetrate the skin instantly, reaching the depths of the soul. General An Yuan's face was stern, and he said in a cold voice, "You treacherous brat, today is your death day."

Having said that, he exerted a slight force on his wrist, and gently pushed the longsword forward. The movement seemed gentle, but it contained endless determination.

Youming's eyes widened, filled with terror and resentment. His lips trembled slightly, as if he wanted to say something but could not utter a sound.

Blood gushed from his throat like a spring, slowly trickling down his neck and staining his chest armor crimson. His body slowly collapsed, falling heavily from his horse.

The moment it landed, it stirred up dust on the ground. The dust swirled in the air, as if lamenting its destruction, before being swept away by the gale.

Upon seeing that Youming was dead, the Tianxuan army erupted in a deafening roar, a sound like thousands of thunderbolts exploding simultaneously, echoing through the sky.

It was like a surging tsunami sweeping in, overwhelming everything. General An Yuan stood tall and straight, like a war god descending to earth, raising his long sword high.

The long sword gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight, like a banner of victory. He led his soldiers like hungry tigers charging towards the enemy.

Upon witnessing the murder of their commander, Youming, the soldiers of Xuanyuan Kingdom turned ashen-faced, and their morale collapsed. They hastily retreated back into the city, and their once orderly attack instantly became weak and ineffective.

Seeing that their commander was dead, the archers on the city wall fired their arrows weakly, which flew crookedly through the air without any accuracy. Some even fell before reaching the enemy lines.

At this moment, dark clouds began to gather in the sky, as if they could not bear to look at the bloody battlefield and wanted to cover it with dark clouds.