Zhou Qianfu was overwhelmed with joy as he felt the rapid healing effects of the ninth-grade elixir coursing through his body. His injuries, which had plagued him for so long, vanished in an instant. A part of him lamented that there was only one such elixir, and it was already gone.
Still, he looked at the man in black robes with renewed hope. If a ninth-grade pill was handed out so casually, surely there were other treasures in his possession. Zhou Qianfu knew he had to curry favor, bowing low in supplication.
But the man in black robes gave him no chance to speak further. His powerful aura surged for a moment before he let out a cold snort.
"So, the Orion army marches toward Chang'an?" the man asked, his tone filled with disdain. "Hmph, how pitiful."
Zhou Qianfu straightened, his relief palpable. "Yes, sir. Thank you for agreeing to act. We have no hope without you!"
The black-robed man waved dismissively. "When they arrive, I'll deal with them. Those from the lower realms are no more than insects."
Zhou Qianfu was ecstatic, his initial goal finally achieved. With this powerful envoy willing to act, Orion's fate was sealed.
He allowed himself a dark chuckle. "Orion, your arrogance will soon meet its end," he muttered under his breath. He had no doubt that the envoy's strength was beyond comprehension, far surpassing any Martial Emperor. Orion wouldn't stand a chance.
But Zhou Qianfu remained unaware of how pitiful he appeared in that moment—a mere dog relying on the strength of another.
Meanwhile, Orion had rejoined Yuan Zuozong and the Dragon Cavalry, quickly catching up despite the army's rapid march. Thanks to the two Martial Emperors accompanying him, they had made remarkable progress.
"My lord, General Gao has moved the camp towards Yongzhou, as instructed. His troops are expected to arrive within two days," Yuxiang reported.
Orion stretched, seemingly relaxed. "Good. When Gao Shun arrives, I'll have a word with him. How could it take so long to deal with just 300,000 border troops?" He scoffed. "But two days is enough. We'll have Shangyong City by then."
He pulled out a map and circled the city. As the county seat of Yongzhou, it had great strategic and political value. Zhou Linglong had stationed 100,000 troops there, seemingly determined to hold the city at all costs.
"Yuan Zuozong, take Shangyong first. Secure the city for me," Orion ordered.
The Dragoon Army moved swiftly, undeterred by the fortified walls of Shangyong City. They were well-trained and disciplined, and under Yuan Zuozong's command, the city was nothing more than a temporary obstacle.
Within Shangyong City, the defenders were on high alert. The sound of hooves echoed across the land, as a lone scout rode back to the city, barely clinging to life.
"Medic! Get the medic!" the soldiers cried as they rushed the scout into the city, but the damage was too severe. The military doctor arrived just in time to pronounce him dead, his internal injuries far beyond saving.
"Prepare for battle!" a deep, commanding voice cut through the commotion. The city's general, a hulking figure clad in armor, strode onto the scene. His face was grim as he surveyed the panic among his men.
The sound of galloping horses grew louder. A line of cavalry—like a wave of white—raced toward them under the fading light. The Dragoon Army had arrived.
"Dragoon Army! Charge!" Yuan Zuozong's booming voice rang out, and the cavalry surged forward with deadly precision.
On the city walls, the general stood unmoved, his expression a mix of resignation and determination. "Orion… you've finally come," he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. His fate had been sealed the moment he defied the Zhou Dynasty.
"All soldiers, prepare to defend!" he shouted, rallying his men one last time.
But the will to fight couldn't change the outcome. The power of the Dragoon Army was overwhelming, and in a single devastating blow, Yuan Zuozong shattered the city walls. The cavalry poured into Shangyong, decimating the defenders with ease.
"Ding! Congratulations to the host for annihilating 100,000 soldiers, including 90,000 warriors and 8,000 martial artists. You've gained 1.86 million luck points!"
"Ding! Congratulations to the host for winning a large-scale battle and earning 100,000 additional luck points!"
Orion frowned as he heard the system's notifications. "Only 1.86 million luck points?" he mused. "Why so low?"
He quickly realized that the defenders were merely low-level soldiers and martial artists. Even their commander was a junior martial artist, hardly a challenge for his forces.
"Just cannon fodder… no wonder their luck value is so pitiful," he muttered. He couldn't understand why the empress had left such weak troops to defend the city. It was almost like she had handed him free luck.
"Well, Shangyong is ours now," he said, a satisfied smile crossing his face. "And all the luck is mine."
Despite the low value, Orion couldn't help but appreciate the empress's gesture—whether intentional or not.