Fantasy: After transmigrating, I effortlessly became a god.

"Report."

Suddenly, a messenger from the Red Turban Army's rear came on horseback to report.

"Commander-in-chief Li Cheng was killed by Zheng Qian, the God of Slaughter of the North Gate, amidst ten thousand troops."

A chill swept over him. Dai Yongping couldn't believe that Li Cheng, surrounded by tens of thousands of Red Turban soldiers, could possibly be killed.

God of Slaughter, God of Slaughter at the North Gate.

As Dai Yongping watched the black-clad man wielding a heavy sword in a circle, an idea popped into his mind.

This person is Zheng Qian, the killing god of the North Gate.

Damn it, wasn't he at the North Gate? How did he end up killing Li Cheng in the West Gate and then running to the South Gate? This guy is the ruthless one who single-handedly killed an entire battalion in the North Gate and killed Li Cheng amidst a sea of ​​soldiers; we absolutely cannot afford to clash with him.

Dai Yongping immediately retreated to the rear. Facing the god of death, he dared not risk his life for military merit.

In the darkness outside the East Gate, tens of thousands of riders waited silently. The leader, wearing a flame mask, rode a tall warhorse, looking majestic and extraordinary.

He was the leader of the Red Turban Army, and he used Magistrate He as bait to prepare to personally ambush Zheng Qian here.

"Report."

A swift horse cut through the night, galloping toward the leader.

The messenger grabbed the reins, jumped off his horse, and said urgently, "Reporting to the leader, General Li Cheng has been killed by Zheng Qian, who is currently breaking out towards the south gate."

The flames on the leader's mask seemed to dance in the darkness, and a sharp aura burst forth from his body.

"South Gate, let's go."

In the south of the city, Zheng Qian's offensive was like a tiger descending the mountain, rampaging and sweeping all before it.

The greatsword in his hand transformed into a whirlwind of death; no Red Turban Army soldier, whether shield bearer or spearman, could stop his advance.

Each swing of his sword was accompanied by screams and splattering blood, as if he were a killer emerging from hell, relentlessly reaping the lives of Red Turban Army warriors.

Behind them, the cavalry of the Changwu Army followed closely, and the arrows of the Zhuge Repeating Crossbow poured down like a torrential rain, killing the Red Turban soldiers who tried to block them one by one.

For a time, the streets in front of the South Gate were filled with an atmosphere of bloodshed and slaughter.

Jin Jindao led the martial arts masters running behind the group. Although they did not have warhorses, their speed and endurance were outstanding.

Watching Zheng Qian's figure sweeping across the battlefield, they were filled with shock and admiration.

He truly lived up to the reputation of being the "God of Slaughter" among the Red Turban Army; his killing speed was faster than chopping grass.

Seeing Zheng Qian's terrifying strength, Dai Yongping was filled with fear. He knew that such an opponent was simply beyond the capabilities of ordinary Red Turban Army soldiers like themselves.

Therefore, he decisively chose to retreat, leading the remaining Red Turban Army soldiers to retreat to the rear.

At the south gate, a steady stream of Red Turban soldiers continued to pour in. Dai Yongping had already retreated to the city gate. He dared not let Zheng Qian and his group leave. He believed that the leader had received the information that as long as they surrounded Zheng Qian, the rest could be left to the leader.

Dai Yongping shouted, "Close the city gates!"

In an instant, the Red Turban Army sped up its passage, while the Red Turban Army outside retreated rapidly, clearing the space at the city gate.

"Hold them off, the leader will arrive soon."

Dai Yongping was an outstanding general; he made the right choice instantly.

By closing the gates to prevent Zheng Qian and his group from rushing out, and then using a spear formation to hold them off, the Changwu army can be slowly worn down.

Seeing the city gate slowly closing thirty meters away, and the Changwu army crowding in front of him, Zheng Qian panicked. If the city gate closed, their cavalry's advantage would be lost, and they would eventually be attacked and killed by the crowd.

He is not afraid of being attacked by a group, but if everyone is sacrificed, he will be worn down by the enemy's arrows.

Zheng Qian went berserk and roared, "Those who stand in my way shall die!"

He gripped his heavy sword tightly, guarding his heart. The blade gleamed with a cold light, as if it could devour all darkness. Within him, his blood surged like a tidal wave, and each heartbeat seemed to carry the power of a thunderbolt.

Suddenly, he took a deep breath, and his aura instantly surged.

He slowly raised the heavy sword, as if it bore the weight of a thousand pounds. The surrounding air seemed to be drawn by this force, and began to tremble slightly. Then, Zheng Qian let out a deafening roar.

"kill."

Like a tiger descending a mountain, his shouts made the eardrums of the surrounding Red Turban Army enemies buzz. He swung his heavy sword fiercely, slashing forward with an unparalleled momentum.

The first strike, a trail of afterimages, instantly ripped through the sky, tearing the air apart wherever it passed. Enemies within five meters were swept away by this sword's force as if by a giant wave, dying instantly.

With his second strike, Zheng Qian's power seemed to have increased even further. His entire aura became even more ferocious, and the moment he swung his heavy sword, it was as if an invisible wind blade extended forward along with the sword light. Enemies within ten meters were utterly unable to withstand this power and were all cut in two.

The third strike was Zheng Qian's limit. All his strength was concentrated in this one blow. The moment the heavy sword was swung, it was as if a whirlwind burst forth from the tip of the sword, carrying the power to destroy everything. Enemies within fifteen meters were swept away by this whirlwind, like ships swallowed by giant waves, and were instantly shattered.

After the three strikes, Zheng Qian's figure appeared thirty meters away. He stood there, his chest heaving, sweat streaming down his forehead. But his eyes shone even brighter, as if burning with intense heat.

Thirty drops of mysterious liquid fell into his mind, and Zheng Qian's whole body trembled, his physical condition instantly returning to its peak. He felt more comfortable than ever before and couldn't help but shout.

"Cool."

The surrounding Red Turban Army enemies were intimidated by the momentum displayed by Zheng Qian's three strikes and retreated, not daring to approach easily again.

They were terrified when they heard Zheng Qian's shout.

The fact that three swords could kill three hundred people was beyond their comprehension, yet the other side was still shouting that it was great. Isn't this just bullying?

"Master镖头, you are mighty!"

Zhang Tiezhu shouted, and thousands of people behind him shouted back.

"Inspector Zheng is awesome!"

"The God of Slaughter at the North Gate, mighty and mighty."

The streets where Zheng Qian had beheaded were spotless except for the corpses and blood. No Red Turban Army dared to take a step forward. The Changwu Army roared past, and they could only watch as they went.

"The God of Slaughter, so he was the God of Slaughter."

"Holy crap, I actually fought with the God of Slaughter."

"You've already been divided in two because you've seen him kill people and fight."

"I have to say, the God of Slaughter is really too fierce."

Only then did the Red Turban Army soldiers realize that the man who split the mountain with a single sword was none other than the infamous "God of Slaughter at the North Gate," a figure widely known within the Red Turban Army.

His combat prowess truly lives up to his title of God of Slaughter.

Zhang Tiezhu was the first to rush to the city gate, and Zheng Qian laughed and jumped onto his warhorse to gallop out of the city.

The Red Turban Army outside the city retreated repeatedly. They had witnessed Zheng Qian slash through the enemy with three swords, covering a distance of thirty meters, and not a single person survived along the way.

Who would dare block the path of such a killing god?

More than a thousand people, led by Zheng Qian, successfully broke through the South Gate.

In the darkness, tens of thousands of cavalrymen were rapidly approaching. They were the most elite troops of the Red Turban Army, and their leader was personally leading them, their morale soaring.

"Zheng Qian, do you think you can escape my grasp?"

Hundreds of meters away, the cold and cruel voice of the Red Turban Army leader rang out. He pointed his spear at Zheng Qian, his eyes flashing with bloodlust.

"Chief, the chief is here."

"It's the leader, the God of Slaughter is doomed."

"It is said that the leader is already a master of the Blood Refining Realm, and there are few who can rival him in the southern part of Wuyan Kingdom."

"Nonsense, it's not that we don't have many opponents, it's that we have no opponents."

The Red Turban Army's morale soared instantly. Their leader was a myth in their hearts, an invincible legend.

Zheng Qian looked up at the other person; the flames on the mask seemed to be dancing, giving off a mysterious and dangerous feeling.

"You go first, I'll be right behind you."

Zheng Qian turned his horse around and charged alone towards the Red Turban Army camp.