Chapter Seventy: The Crushing Defeat of the Nine-Headed Roc

Li Yiqing returned to the camp, where Murong Yan and Ye Feng were in the midst of congratulating him on his victory.

Suddenly, a soldier came to report: the Governor of Black Cliff Pass, the Nine-Headed Vulture, was outside the camp challenging them. Just as Li Yiqing was about to go out and accept the challenge, Murong Yan stopped him, insisting that she and Ye Feng would face the Nine-Headed Vulture themselves.

Murong Yan led a host of soldiers and generals outside the camp, where, in the distance, a line of monstrous soldiers and generals stood arrayed in a straight line. None of them rode mounts; all were on foot. The lesser fiends had long necks, round heads, pointed beaks, and were covered in feathers, each with a rattan shield in the left hand and a curved blade in the right.

The leading monster was even more fearsome: clad entirely in gold helmet, gold armor, and golden battle robe, his burly form bore nine bald bird heads—one large in the center, eight smaller ones around it. The central head was bound tightly with bandages, both cheeks grotesquely swollen, and the great hooked beak gleamed coldly, exuding menace. In his hand he wielded a massive bronze cudgel, nearly ten feet long and as thick as a bowl.

Murong Yan spurred her warhorse, pointed her finger, and demanded, “Are you the Governor of Black Cliff Pass, the Nine-Headed Vulture? My army is at your gates—will you not surrender at once?”

The Nine-Headed Vulture’s beady eyes widened, staring unblinking at Murong Yan, drool dripping from his many mouths. The sight filled Murong Yan with disgust. She shouted angrily, “Hey! I’m talking to you! Why don’t you answer?”

The Nine-Headed Vulture finally came to his senses, grinning foolishly. But before he could utter a sound, he cried out, “Ouch!” and clamped his mouth shut—the movement had aggravated his wounds. Only then did he notice the copious saliva, which he hurriedly wiped away.

Murong Yan, seeing this display, covered her mouth and laughed, her beauty shining all the brighter. The Nine-Headed Vulture was completely befuddled by her laughter, stumbling forward and mumbling, “Pretty miss, I am indeed the Nine-Headed Vulture. And who are you? Have you come to the battlefield to find your man?”

Murong Yan, both shamed and enraged, cursed, “Fiend! Foul-mouthed and shameless! You court death!” She raised her brocade saber, about to charge and attack.

But a general leapt out behind her, saying, “Marshal, there’s no need to trouble yourself with such a small matter. Allow me to handle this!” It was Lu Youxiong, who spurred his horse forward.

He approached without a word and swung his broad-bladed saber at the Nine-Headed Vulture’s head. Still dazed and stumbling forward, the vulture was startled by the rush of wind and dodged aside just in time. Seeing it was a middle-aged man attacking, his anger flared. He pointed at Lu Youxiong and bellowed, “Who are you, you fool, to meddle in my affairs?!”

Lu Youxiong gritted his teeth in fury. “Bah! You hideous monster, how dare you insult my marshal? Have you never looked in a mirror?”

The Nine-Headed Vulture was taken aback. “Oh, so your marshal is Murong Yan! No wonder she’s so beautiful. Today, I’ll take you first, then bring the little beauty home as my bride!”

With that, he raised his bronze cudgel and struck at Lu Youxiong. The blow came with a mighty roar—swift as lightning. Lu Youxiong quickly raised his saber to block.

A deafening clang rang out, sparks flying. Both men staggered back more than ten paces.

“What strength!” they exclaimed in unison. Neither dared take the other lightly now; they advanced cautiously, unleashing all their skills in a ferocious battle.

The saber is the marshal of weapons, and in Lu Youxiong’s hands, it danced with infinite variety—cleaving, slicing, thrusting, chopping—each move formidable. The cudgel is the ancestor of all weapons, and the Nine-Headed Vulture’s staff swept, jabbed, chopped, flicked, coiled, hard and soft in turn, endlessly shifting. Both had learned from true masters; the match was perfectly even.

Within the time it takes to eat a meal, they had exchanged more than a hundred blows. As the fight wore on, sweat poured from Lu Youxiong. He realized, This old monster is truly formidable. Since joining the army, I have few achievements—defeat is not an option! I’ll use my Soul-Chasing Red Lotus to win great merit!

With that, he feinted, dodging the cudgel, wheeled his horse, and called out, “Old fiend, I cannot best you—I’m off!” He spurred his horse and fled.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The Nine-Headed Vulture, seeing his adversary flee, pursued without hesitation.

Lu Youxiong glanced back—good, you're taking the bait! He slipped his left hand to his waist, pulled out the Soul-Chasing Red Lotus, and held it in his palm. With a thought, he caused it to grow to the size of a platter, then shouted, “Go!” and hurled it at the Nine-Headed Vulture.

The vulture, seeing the spinning red lotus flying toward him, knew it was deadly. He cursed, “You little rat, using dirty tricks!” He shook his shoulders, and suddenly a pair of enormous wings sprouted from his back. With a sweep, a fierce wind arose, sand and stones flying. The Soul-Chasing Red Lotus spun in place, unable to advance. With two more beats, the old fiend soared into the air like lightning, flying straight at Lu Youxiong!

Before Lu Youxiong could raise his saber to defend himself, it was too late. One of the vulture’s heads stretched out, suddenly swelling to the size of a cartwheel, and clamped its iron-hooked beak around him with a thunderous snap. Then, with a jerk of its neck—over ten feet long—it flung Lu Youxiong to the ground before the lesser fiends.

The impact nearly knocked Lu Youxiong unconscious. Before he could recover, a voice shouted, “Bind him!” Instantly, the lesser fiends swarmed over him, tying him up so tightly—around his shoulders and back, three turns left, three turns right—that he was trussed up like a zongzi.

With no one to control it, the Soul-Chasing Red Lotus fell to the ground with a soft thud, shrinking to the size of a child’s toy.

The Nine-Headed Vulture returned to his previous form, triumphant. He pointed his bronze cudgel at Murong Yan, boasting, “Little miss, you have seen what I can do. Will you not dismount and surrender?”

Murong Yan’s face flushed with anger. “Despicable! Shameless creature! I will fight you myself!”

She spurred her horse forward, but Ye Feng blocked her path. “Marshal, it is not fitting to trouble you with exterminating such a fiend! Let me handle this while you observe and command.”

Murong Yan cautioned, “Vice Marshal Ye, be careful. Do not show mercy to such monsters—strike to kill!” Ye Feng nodded. “Rest assured!”

He charged forward, shouting, “Fiend, your life is mine!” and thrust his Overlord Spear at the vulture’s chest.

The vulture saw the spear coming fast and raised his cudgel to parry. The crash of weapons sounded like thunder on a clear day, making the soldiers’ ears ring as if deafened. The force drove the vulture back over ten paces, numbing his hands, burning his palms, and nearly making him drop his cudgel.

“What strength!” he exclaimed, but before he could finish, a blue flash streaked by—another spear thrust coming for his throat! He barely managed to parry with his cudgel, but with a snap, the spearhead veered and stabbed at his flank. Cold sweat broke out as he desperately blocked the attack, finding himself completely on the defensive.

Within less than the time for a cup of tea, the Nine-Headed Vulture was drenched in sweat and panting for breath. His armor was askew, his helmet crooked—he was a sorry sight.

Terror gripped him. Who is this? Such terrifying spearwork! Is it Ye Feng? I’ve heard he’s formidable—if it’s him, this won’t be easy! I can’t just take a beating; time to use my secret art, the Nine-Headed Capture Technique!

With a shake of his shoulders, wings sprouted again. He beat them twice, whipping up a gale and sending himself soaring a full ten feet into the air, startling Ye Feng’s horse, which reared and retreated in panic. Ye Feng quickly dismounted, and the horse, now riderless, bolted in terror.

The Nine-Headed Vulture, emboldened by this turn, stretched out one of his heads like a monstrous python, lunging at Ye Feng. Ye Feng dodged swiftly and drew his treasured Cloud-Slashing Sword, slashing with all his might. With a flash of steel, the bird head was severed with a crunch, blood spurting everywhere, drenching Ye Feng’s face and body.

Before Ye Feng could catch his breath, the remaining eight heads lunged at him from all directions like giant serpents, each strike swift and foul. Ye Feng cried, “Well done, fiend!” and with a shake, forced a phantom copy of himself and a fire dragon from within. The fire dragon grew, the duplicate solidified, and together, man and dragon hurled themselves at the eight monstrous heads.

A fierce melee erupted—fists whistled, swords flashed, spear flowers bloomed, and fire blazed. The scene was bloody and brutal.

The battle raged, heaven and earth dimming, sun and moon obscured. Gradually, the Nine-Headed Vulture faltered, suffering two punches, three kicks, and a sword wound—blood streaming, his screams filling the air.

The righteous soldiers watching were heartened, shouting, “Vice Marshal Ye is victorious! None can stand against him!” Murong Yan, watching from the side, rejoiced inwardly. She had long borne a grudge against the vulture.

Seizing the moment, she quietly drew her treasured hawk-bow, fished an arrow from her beast-shaped quiver, nocked it, and drew the bow to its fullest, imbuing it with her will. With a release, the arrow flew straight for one of the vulture’s heads, piercing it clean through. The vulture howled in agony, searching for the source of the attack with one of his heads.

Before he could react, another arrow struck—another head pierced. He howled again, wracked with pain. Yet another arrow whistled through, transfixing a third head.

The text notes that this was the renowned “String-of-Pearls Arrow”—fast, accurate, and deadly. As long as the foe kept fighting, the arrows kept coming, relentless as a storm. The Nine-Headed Vulture was stricken with terror, no longer daring to fight. He beat his wings and fled like the wind.

Ye Feng looked up, realizing pursuit was futile. He raised his Overlord Spear high and shouted, “Charge!” leading the soldiers against the fiendish troops.

With a roar, the righteous soldiers surged like a tidal wave, but before they could close, the monster soldiers, terrified, took flight, abandoning even the captive Lu Youxiong.

“Archers! Archers!” came the urgent cry. The soldiers snatched up their bows and shot at the fleeing monsters, and for a moment, the sky was thick with arrows, and many a fiend fell from the air.

“Seize the pass!” Ye Feng raised his spear, leading the charge on Black Cliff Pass. Soon the army surged to the very gates, but from above, a storm of arrows rained down, forcing the attackers to retreat.

Ye Feng, surveying the formidable defenses, realized a frontal assault was hopeless and quickly reported to Murong Yan, advising withdrawal. Seeing that Lu Youxiong had been rescued and their own losses were slight, Murong Yan agreed, and the army withdrew.

Just then, Li Yiqing came out to greet them. Hearing the account, he sighed repeatedly, “What a pity! What a pity!” He was just about to request permission to launch a night raid on Black Cliff Pass.