Journey to the West: Treasure Vase of the Great Dao

In Lu Yu's eyes, it was hard to associate the man before him with the legendary Martial Mourning King.

His armor was in tatters, his hair unkempt, his beard unruly, coupled with those bloodshot eyes, he had a very exhausted appearance.

But his eyes were bright, seemingly containing some inexplicable flames, both of anger and of hatred.

"I had heard of your name before, but I never expected to have the chance to meet you today." Lu Yu would not tell him that, in the days to come, his name would echo throughout the land, becoming the nightmare of all Barbarians.

"I didn't expect that even a bit of my reputation could reach the ears of an Immortal." Ran Min said with a laugh.

"Do not belittle yourself unduly; achieving what others cannot is what makes a hero," Lu Yu responded with a smile.

This remark from Lu Yu suddenly spurred an impulse in Ran Min, he wanted to beg the Immortal before him for help, but he feared that speaking hastily might offend the Immortal and turn good intentions into disaster. Consequently, he stood still, at a loss for words for a moment.

"There is a difference between mortals and Immortals. Although we Immortals possess Divine Skills, we dare not defy the great trends of heaven and earth. If you expect me to help you slaughter Barbarians, I'm afraid that's not possible," Lu Yu sighed softly.

Just moments ago, he had slain only a small part of the Barbarians, and he could feel the Dragon of Fortune of the Barbarians already setting its sights on him, glaring with bared fangs and claws.

Although Lu Yu was entirely fearless, this level of the Dragon of Fortune no longer posed a threat to him. What he truly feared was the karma that came from interfering with the Human Path, which was the most dreadful thing.

Silent and unnoticed, when you realize it, it has already erupted, potentially causing death to both spirit and body. Immortals fear causes, mortals fear effects, such is the principle.

It was only because Lu Yu possessed the Innate Spirit Root, the Enlightenment Tea Tree, that he dared to make a move.

"Perhaps only after the Five Qi converge towards the origin will it be possible to avoid these karmic consequences and act without restraint," Lu Yu pondered silently.

Upon hearing Lu Yu's remarks, Ran Min's face revealed a look of disappointment. The disparity between enemy and ally was huge, and he was desperately hoping to find external support.

"However, although I cannot act directly, I can still lend you a helping hand," Lu Yu said, seemingly recalling something, and he smiled at Ran Min.

Ran Min's eyebrows lifted in joy, reminiscent of a person nearing drowning, grasping at any straw—not to mention that Lu Yu was clearly not a mere straw, but a massive ship.

Lu Yu flew into the air, observing Ran Min's Qi Begging Army behind him. Their clothing was ragged, their equipment rudimentary, and their varied flags fluttered, looking somewhat comical like a rabble. Yet, it was this group of people who struck the strongest chord of the Han Tribe during their darkest era.

Their emergence greatly intimidated the arrogant Barbarians and won space for the preservation and development of Han culture.

Lu Yu could see that these people were very young, and many still had a touch of youthful naivete on their faces. In his former life, these people would still be carefree children in schools.

But born in this wretched era, they had no choice but to take up arms to desperately fight for a chance to survive.

The words 'begging for life' carried such a heavy weight, such utter despair.

Lu Yu could not help but sigh, gently stretching out both hands and beckoning. Countless pale yellow threads floated from the bodies of the soldiers and continuously fell into Lu Yu's hands, gradually transforming into a tiny insect that peacefully slumbered in his palm.

After all the pale yellow aura had left, the soldiers joyfully discovered that their overwhelming fatigue had vanished, and they became spirited once more. The previous drowsiness had disappeared without a trace, making them feel extremely energized.

"I have extracted all the fatigue and drowsiness from your bodies. For the next ten days, you will not know weariness and will be unable to sleep. I hope this helps you," Lu Yu's voice echoed from above. The people bowed their heads in worship, and when they looked up, Lu Yu's figure was already gone.

Ran Min felt as if he had boundless energy at that moment. He adjusted the armor on his body and said with a pleased smile, "Today, with the Immortal's help, it must be divine will. Even the heavens cannot stand the Barbarians. We only have these ten days! In these ten days, we must show those arrogant Barbarians that the People of Han will never be enslaved!"

Ran Min's words surged through the hearts of the soldiers, causing them to shout at the top of their lungs, "The Begging-for-Life Army, kill the Barbarians, kill the Barbarians!"

Their voices shook the fields and raised a storm that blew towards the north, where their enemy lay. This time, they intended to tell the Barbarians with death and blood that the Han Tribe was not mere sheep but bloodthirsty dragons.

Ran Min mounted his horse, his Treasured Sword pointed forward, and shouted loudly, "Advance, kill the Barbarians!"

"Kill the Barbarians! Kill the Barbarians!" With such cries, the Begging-for-Life Army galloped northwards.

Ahead of them lay a pocket formed by the allied armies of the Barbarians, into which they intended to charge and rend asunder.

From that day forward, the Begging-for-Life Army became the nightmare of the northern Barbarians. Within ten days, they covered a thousand miles, fought across four territories, won seven battles, claimed over two hundred thousand Barbarian heads, and their fame thundered throughout the world.

For many years to come, the name Ran Min was enough to stop children of the Barbarians from crying in the night.

While Ran Min led the Begging-for-Life Army on their relentless chase northward, an old man dressed in a white robe, decorated with peculiar patterns in fresh blood, carrying a large drum made of human skin, also approached the Barbarians' grand tent.

Barefoot, he slowly neared the encampment of the Barbarians.

By this time, the Barbarians were already frightened out of their wits. They huddled together, murmuring about the Begging-for-Life Army's tireless cruelty, utterly oblivious to the old man's approach until they looked up and saw him standing at the entrance of the grand tent, scrutinizing the site.

The Barbarian soldiers stuttered in shock, "High Priest, what brings you here?"

This was the tribe's High Priest, a man who could communicate with the Celestial Gods. Even their leaders showed him great respect. He often meditated in the mountains, devoted solely to serving the Celestial God, and never appeared before; unexpected was his presence there that day.

The High Priest was also meticulously examining the temporary grand tent.

One could tell it was hastily constructed in a panic; wrinkles marred many parts, and some areas even bore holes pierced by weapons. The disarray of the grand tent was a clear reflection of his tribemate's disheveled state.

The activity at the entrance alerted the Barbarian leader inside the tent. He flung the curtains open, eyes wild with anger, ready to reprimand the insolent youth.

He suddenly saw the white-bearded, barefoot High Priest.

Surprised, he asked, "Why are you here, Elder?"