Peace Order

Chapter 1768 - 72: Chen Dingye’s Finale

Lowering his body, assuming a stance ready for a final battle, his voice hoarse, he shouted:

"Imperial Guard of Great Chen, Record Officer of Dragon Martial Army, Luo Xingyi!"

"Rebellions ahead, do not advance!"

Yue Qianfeng’s expression became solemn, looking at the comrade who once rode with them on the battlefield. He held his weapon, suddenly spoke, "Qilin Army!"

The voice of the Divine General was rough yet solemn: "Bid farewell to our comrade."

Lowering his body in a desperate stance, Luo Xingyi grinned and then charged forward. The Qilin Army set their crossbows, and the Ninth Divine General Yue Qianfeng personally held his Battle Halberd, ready to strike.

He shouted: "Attack!!!"

In an instant, the whistling of bowstrings sounded like birds flapping their wings.

Luo Xingyi watched the radiant light blade of the Divine General, swinging out his own sword. The Imperial Guard’s sword instantly broke, spinning above his head, spiraling down heavily into the ground.

Luo Xingyi staggered for several steps, falling forward.

Died in battle.

Yue Qianfeng grasped his weapon, breathing was slightly heavy, and he punched the wall heavily.

"Chaotic times, chaotic times!"

Unreasonable.

Each other’s difficulties, useless, useless.

A city, white-blade warfare.

Ancient elites, with a thirty percent loss of morale among the troops.

The Imperial Guard of Chen Country, fought to the point of death, white blades swung, warriors in golden armor fell in different places, they blocked between the enemy and the sovereign, obviously just on the most ordinary bricks in a small town.

Stained red with the blood of brave warriors, becoming the jade steps to meet the sovereign.

Ten thousand Imperial Guards, from the Great General to the guards, all died in battle.

Fell facing forward, not one turned back.

Tragic to the extreme, it was the nation’s funeral.

The fall of Chen, cannot stoop to small men and dogs.

Li Guanyi was silent, famous generals surrounded that small courtyard, broke the walls, a eunuch sat before the wall, holding a sword, already pierced by arrows, breathing heavily, pale face, vitality gradually waning.

Chen Wenmian rushed in, met Chen Dingye.

Chen Dingye’s eyes couldn’t see, color and texture like wood and stone, white hair falling behind his shoulders, holding a sword, sitting there, numerous famous generals surrounding this emperor.

Chen Wenmian looked at him, at his own fate, looked at his former father, looked at his enemy.

Chen Dingye stood up, leaning on the sword with both hands, disdainfully said: "Have they all come?"

"Then, come on!"

The Dharma Forms of Qiongqi and Poison Dragon roared into the sky.

Phoenix, Red Dragon, Suan Ni, Gray Wolf, Fierce Tiger, Black Panther, many auras representing contemporary first-rate generals filled the sky, coloring this place as a fiercely murderous battlefield, Chen Dingye personally wielding the sword to fight ahead.

How could he be a match for so many famous generals.

The stage fronts numerous famous generals attacked, pouring out their resentments, Fan Qing’s experiences, Yue Qianfeng’s dissatisfaction, Chen Dingye’s body appeared with wounds of knives and swords, blood flowing out, his aura gradually weakening.

Yet heard angry shouts, familiar auras.

In Chen Dingye’s ears, seemed to recall voices from long, long ago.

Chen Wenmian wielded the Gray Wolf Blade, asked Li Guanyi to let him end it all personally, so Li Guanyi did not intervene, behind Chen Wenmian, the Gray Wolf Dharma erupted, he held the Gray Wolf Blade, looking at the aged, embarrassed Emperor Chen.

Chen Wenmian couldn’t even discern his own feelings, merely his eyes reddened.

"It’s time to end..."

"Chen Dingye!"

His eyes seemed to have a trace, almost undetectable tears.

The voice of the Gray Wolf soared, slashed down heavily, at that instant, staggering Chen Dingye seemed to have returned to the peak after practicing Forbidden Skills, instantly changing form, raising his hand to grasp the Gray Wolf Blade.

However, catching this move, naturally left the back defenseless.

Behind Chen Dingye, weapons of Fan Qing, Yue Qianfeng and others had struck down heavily.

Ripping primordial qi, pierced Chen Dingye’s body.

Blood drenched.

Chen Wenmian looked at Chen Dingye, Chen Dingye gripping the weapon tightly, a curve at the corner of his lips, looking ahead with eyes fully destroyed by Fei Poison, yet seemed still to have an aura of arrogance.

Suddenly exerting force, Chen Wenmian’s body was dragged closer by this terrifying force, seeing Chen Dingye more clearly.

Chen Dingye expended the last bit of his strength.

Lifted his foot.

Kicked Chen Wenmian’s chest, with his last breath, his last fierce blood, kicked the Seventh Heaven Divine General flying out of here, landing heavily on the ground, Chen Dingye inserted the Gray Wolf Blade into the ground, arrogantly said:

"Anyone can kill me, I can die at anyone’s hand."

"But absolutely cannot, die at your hand!"

This was once Chen Dingye’s desire — losing biological father, losing mother and grandfather, to personally kill his Chen Wenmian, would have no weakness, but thinking now, such thoughts, really boring.

Too boring.

Chen Wenmian coughed violently, struggled to rise, watched Chen Dingye turn indifferently, Ritual Eunuch struggled to rise, closed the door, lastly Chen Wenmian only saw Chen Dingye’s calm eyes.

Live on this world with the regret of not being able to kill me, and the relief of ultimately not killing me.

If you killed me, after exterminating Jiang Su, you would lose the reason to live, Tantai Xianming, really taught you to be a gentleman...

Chen Dingye’s eyes were dark, ’looking at’ the child in memory.

He did not approach to touch the child.

Just watched.

Released the Gray Wolf Blade in his hand, turned around, walked away.

Back straight.

Emperor Chen step by step, underfoot, behind him, all were blood.

Mixed into the brave blood that sacrifices the death of a nation.

"My life, enough to be the utmost reward of the world."

Emperor Chen swept his sleeves, in the blood-stained sleeves, carried a fierce aura, sat in the small courtyard of the small city, on the most ordinary stone, his voice blandly arrogant, towards the world, towards the famous generals ahead, said:

"Come!"

"With you, Duke of Founding!"