The spring breeze carries the fragrance of cherry blossoms, wafting up to the peak of Mount Fuji.
Yang Ge stood atop the peak of Mount Fuji, his gaze extended across the vast plains beneath the afterglow of the setting sun, where countless black-and-white images were competing to project on this wide plain...
Since they had landed at Hirado Port last year and advanced northeast, sweeping through the whole of Dongying, over half a year had passed.
The journey thus far could not be called difficult.
But the torment was something only those directly involved could appreciate.
And as the organizer and leader of this expedition, all the pressure and torment were relayed upwards layer by layer, ultimately resting on his shoulders.
All sorts of comments can melt gold, and three men can make a tiger.
The cruelty in razing cities and destroying nations, the gloom and loneliness of being misunderstood, the courage and torment of constantly being firm in moving forward—every day it was like thousands of voices were loudly questioning him: Is it worth it? Why not retreat in light of success?
To say he had never once felt bewildered or hesitant would certainly be a lie!
He could be certain that as long as he didn’t take things to an extreme, no matter how the world changed or where the general trend headed, he, Yang Ge, would be able to keep a clear name in the history books, praised by thousands, rather than being recorded as a butcher and the chief culprit, condemned by later generations’ standards of morality, facing collective attack...
But after every moment of confusion and hesitation, his inner answer was always the same:
It’s worth it!
No retreat!
And now, after a thousand ships had faded away, all the torment and torture were just like passing smoke and clouds.
At this moment, Dongying lay at his feet... prostrated at his feet!
Time-honored dynasties, collapsed into rubble!
The warrior government, crumbled and split apart!
Thousands of Japanese pirates, upon hearing his name, would all lose their spirit and courage!
From now on, no matter how the world changes or where the general trend heads, the little ghosts of Dongying will always remain a head shorter than the sons of Han!
Having experienced this, what more could one ask for!
As the many black-and-white images before his eyes fell like a curtain, Yang Ge took a long breath of turbid air.
This breath seemed to echo with thousands of reverberations.
In the depths of the unseen world, there seemed to be countless hearty laughs as well.
Listening to their laughter, Yang Ge also gradually curled the corners of his lips, with laugh lines spreading from his mouth to his eyes...
He reached out and snatched the liquor floating nearby, catching a bottle while uncorking the seal, gesturing with the bottle towards the other three in the air, "Authentic Liaodong liquor, please taste the scenery of Dongying Mount Fuji!"
Having said that, he lifted the bottle, tilting his head back to drink heartily, the clear liquid flowing down his mouth and wetting the lapel of his light-colored robe.
The three floating bottles also tilted accordingly, sheets of shining liquor spilled into the black volcanic ash atop Mount Fuji...
Suddenly, a gust of wind arose, stirring Yang Ge’s long hair and clothes to flutter wildly.
"Snap!"
The four empty bottles shattered among the volcanic ash.
Yang Ge burst into laughter, staggering to his feet with a jump, his sword slicing through the twilight.
"In the land of Yan and Huang, many are the heroes who face hundreds without dread."
"The brave do not fear, vengeance must be had, behold the blood of the Chinese sons."
"Sons’ blood, so valiant, bold spirit piercing the chest, heart as iron."
"With a gold blade in hand, and a white jade talisman at his side, I feed on the chiefs’ heads in hunger, and drink Rakshasa’s blood in thirst."
"Love and affection, set aside for now, vast ocean’s resolve, determined at this very moment."
"A true man travels a thousand miles with sword in hand, slaying the Hu and Jie at every step."
"By the Aegean Sea, the war songs soar, song after song in celebration of my China."
"Dancing with steel blades within Tokyo City, each slash dyed with the blood of Dongying slaves..."
The calls rose like ocean waves, one cresting over the other, their sound shaking the wilderness.
The sword falls like thunder, each strike swifter than the last, cleaving day from night.
As the great wind rose and clouds scattered, between heaven and earth, it seemed only he with his sword remained, his heroic spirit challenging the mighty stars!
"Do you not see..."
"When upright scholars rise, the valiant die, and China hence boasts of benevolence and righteousness."
"When foreign invaders threw Central Plains into chaos, scholars fled like pigs, and the weak wept."
"I wish to learn from the ancients to revive the spirit of the valiant."
"Fame is as dung to me, I scorn the mockery of the benevolent."
"On my side, a sword that slices iron, in anger, I kill."
"Slicing my flesh to drink with others, such jests startle ghosts and gods..."
His vigor surged, his blade even swifter, his long hair burst free from its band, the blade went wild, as did he.
The forty-meter greatsword reappeared, breaking through the firmament, the heavens and earth losing color, its murderous aura shaking the nine heavens.
In the void, as if countless people were drumming and cheering for him, the voice of one resounding like that of thousands!
"Men, do not shiver in battle, listen to this song..."
"To kill one is a sin, to slaughter thousands a show of might!"
"To slay nine million, that’s a grand display of prowess!"
"Among the mighty, our paths diverge..."
"Disregarding the honor of a thousand years, only to indulge in the heroism of this life."
"I care not for a good name, only for infamy, slaughtering a million without a tinge of remorse."
"Better to have tens of thousands gnash their teeth in hatred than to have none curse my name."
"Looking across five thousand years of this world, where have heroes not killed?"
"Are we, the passionate and good men of today, to be outdone by those of the past?"
The thousand-word testament to a man’s journey echoed in Yang Ge’s ears, like layers upon layers of exuberant laughter, like a tidal wave of jubilation.
That laughter seemed to hold infinite power, continuously infusing into his body, driving his vital energy to an explosive rise, swelling again and again, breaking through limits consecutively.
With a heart blessed by fortune, Yang Ge didn’t hesitate to summon all his strength, squeezing out every bit of energy from his body, recklessly pouring it into the Treasure Blade of the Cold Moon...
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"Ah..."
He roared until he was hoarse, his eyes nearly bursting, his hair and beard expanding, his muscles erupting with power, both hands gripping the Treasure Blade of the Cold Moon, he leapt from high in the air, slashing down with a roar, the bright silver blade qi like a hook-shaped cold moon stretching endlessly.
"Break!"
His sword struck the southwestern corner of Mount Fuji’s summit, the crescent-like silver blade qi smoothly slicing into the black basalt rock like a knife through tofu.
Then the southwestern corner of Mount Fuji’s summit began to slide down, shattering into countless rolling stones that thundered down the mountain, kicking up clouds of dust...