The Divorcee Is A Wicked Black Belly 80 War

Gu Sheng's command reverberated above the ensuing din.

"Fire! Fire!"

The tanks moved to close the gap and returned fire for fire, obliterating the vehicles that moved to reached the walls, crushing them like flies which exploded in a hale of flames and smoke. Another loud kaboom and the watchtower on the east side of the parapet exploded in flames, catapulting bodies and debris on the ground.

An Ning, who was with scholar Xu in the middle tower, waved her hand. Out of the copy cat ring came giant cannon b.a.l.l.s that streaked into the night and into the incoming tanks, colliding and smashing then blowing them all up as An Ning shot at them with a hale of gunfire. The loud boom sounded like the end of world, and it probably was, as the fire mushroomed into a blaze, killing everyone in its path.

The civilians on the parapet opened fire on the vehicles below, which returned a much deadlier and accurate fire since the men firing it were more experienced in handling the strange firearms than their opponents. The palace defenders found themselves totally unmanned and out-gunned, their fire doing little damage to the enemy who started to pick at them like they were flies.

The bodies on the parapets piled up. Looking at them, An Ning thought of a way and as fast as the thought metastasized the drones attacked, unerringly targeting the heat emitting from the vehicles and lobbing bombs on their targets below. The drones did their damage and returned to the ring, having cut down the enemy's moving vehicles by half.

The enemy tank responded by releasing a volley of rockets aimed at stopping the hale of gunfire originating from the middle tower. An Ning watched the oncoming threat and, as if driven by some instinct even she didn't understand, her feet flew, her body jumped and her fist collided with the missile, blowing it up mid-air before it could even reach its target. She wasn't fast enough though to stop the next rocket which zoomed faster than light at the two tanks, which valiantly barred the entrance to the collapsed gate.

Gu Sheng watched the rocket coming closer with a resigned smile. He was standing alone, literally defending his castle, thinking somewhat, at least, An Ning was safe somewhere. But some precious seconds before the rocket reached him, someone s.n.a.t.c.hed him back, literally dragging him away from the blown up tanks flying behind him. His rescuer, however, wasn't fast enough to shield him from the blast which seared his back, literally singeing his robe and scalding the skin exposed by the torn cloth.

An Ning watched as a man she didn't know doused the flames on the emperor's back with a dark robe. The man was wearing a purple bandana around his lower face, exposing the upper part shielded by dark unruly hair. After making sure that the emperor was alive, the stranger then ran in the direction of the unmanned gates, where armored vehicles and enemy soldiers were streaming in un.o.bstructed, firearms blazing as they mowed everything down on their path.

An Ning hefted a rocket launcher in her hand and fired, blowing up the AVs that were backing up to fire another lobby at the palace. She then took to her feet and jumped, landing where Gu Sheng's body was lying still unmoving on his stomach. She checked his pulse. It was faint but he was alive. His back though was totally scalded, the smell of burnt flesh stinging her eyes and nose. She lifted him in her arms and carried him away from the carnage.

Behind her, the palace guards and civilians streamed to the collapsed gates, meeting the intruders with everything in their a.r.s.enal, including boiled water which seared and burnt faces wherever the spray landed.

An Ning laid Gu Sheng under the brush of a tree in the back courtyard. She covered him in pines and brambles and branches, whatever she could find. Dead or alive, Gu Sheng was a valuable p.a.w.n who could change the outcome of this battle. She made sure that no one was around before heading back where the battle was heating up, in the courtyard in front of the palace. The enemy now a has a foothold inside the capital. It wouldn't be long before they reached the inner palace, where women and children and the infirm were holed up.

Ju Xing split the head of his opponent and almost derisively kicked the dead body out of his way. His face was covered in blood, the deep scars white against the backdrop of red. He was dressed in full armor, his ponytail waving like a flag behind his back. He swung his sword and the youth who courageously met his attack died on the spot.

He looked up and there it was, the silhouette of the great palace of Yuqui, majestic and splendid, a short distance away and his at last for the taking. He moved forward, brandishing his sword and killing everyone in his way, intending to push his way to the throne room and take immediate possession of it. He walked forward, his steps sure, his bearing straight and elegant but then he stopped.

A woman, rather a young girl, was standing in his way. She was dressed rather weirdly, in a black dress that skimmed her slender figure then fell in perfect pleats down her upper thighs. Tall footwear made of some animal skin covered the long, shapely legs below the knee. The uncommon dress and the footwear should look lewd and obscene since it bared her pale arms and legs in a s.e.xual way yet in an odd way it doesn't. The girl carried her outfit with the confidence and aplomb of youth, as if what she was wearing was merely incidental to her purpose, which was to bar his way any way she could. She wanted to kill him. He could read it in the grim look in her eyes, the gleaming sword she held in one hand.

"Get out of my way!" Ju Xing rasped, angrily stepping forward, brandishing his sword about as if he wanted to swat her out of existence, this stupid girl standing between him and the throne.

The girl gave a strange laugh and met his swing with her sword. The impact of the collision nearly rocked him on his knees. She was holding her sword with one hand and yet she easily evaded his attack like the combination of nearly six pounds of metal and brawn were nothing. Ju Xing retreated, eyeing her somewhat uncertainly.

The girl smiled and laid the sword down by her side.

"I can't for the life of me understand why you're doing this," she said, her eyes contemptuous. "You're not even his son."

Ju Xing was stunned. He didn't know how to answer her because his mind suddenly went blank.

"I can understand your desire to take the throne if you had been a base born son of his. But you were her base born. You were not the king's son. You were only the b.a.s.t.a.r.d son of his official wife, one of many women in his harem by the way."

"Who are you?" Ju Xing rasped, looking at her like he wanted to take her apart.

"Does it matter? I'm here to tell you, all this," she said, gesturing with her hand, "you will not have it. You can continue to dream but still, it won't belong to you."

"I think you're not in the position to say that," he mocked. "You stand in my way again and I'll cut your f.u.c.king head off in half."

"That's what Min Ling told me and yet he died. And Min Song, too. And Sei Sei."

"What?" he stared at her, shocked.

"I promised Gu Fang, you see. His son will not came to any harm, as long as I have breath left in my body, nothing will happen to Gu Sheng."

"Who are you?"

"Your brother's...rather half-brother's wife."

The smile on Ju Xing's lips was ugly.

"The foreign wh.o.r.e. She didn't like you, you know."

"I know, right? A woman like that, who stood by and allowed her son to be murdered in the worst way imaginable. I keep thinking, why didn't she stop you? But I guess, it was a win-win situation for her. Whoever wins between the two of you, she retains the t.i.tle. I tried to hate her for what she allowed to happen to Gu Fang but I can't. She's too stupid to be a figure of hate. But then, you know, she fooled a king into believing she was chaste so she must have some brain in her as well, didn't she? I wonder how she did it? Chicken blood?"

"Shut up!"

"No need to be mad. We're just talking here. But in a way, I admire your mother. What a great pretender. She even pretended she liked me even when she was stabbing me in the back."

"I told you to shut up!"

"Aren't you going to ask me what did I to her, your empress mother?"

Ju Xing's eyes bulged with hatred.

"I don't care what you did to that b.i.t.c.h. She could die for all I care."

"Spoken like a true b.a.s.t.a.r.d son," the girl laughed. "You really are a mother and son pair."

"What have you done to my sons? Where are they? I want to see them now."

"I told you. I killed them. I sliced their heads off and killed them."

Ju Xing looked at the girl as if his eyes were in a haze of fog. He didn't remember moving but his sword was in her throat, trying to hack at the green vein he can see throbbing and pulsing on her smooth white neck. The sword descended but was blocked easily. From a distance of a foot away, with the blades entangled between them, the two opponents stared at each other. The girl was a head shorter than the man but her gaze, as she returned his angry look, was cool and somewhat mocking.

Ju Xing made a fist and let out a punch, which landed with a scrunch on the girl's mid-section. The girl gave a painful grunt and staggered a bit but she stayed her place, immediately answering his attack by lifting her knee and squeezing his crotch. Ju Xing almost doubled up in pain. The blades disengaged and the two combatants circled each other, trying to find an opening to explore a weakness.

An Ning moved and leaped high in the air, her graceful body flying above Ju Xing's head, her sword striking down and taking his ponytail with it. When she landed, the ponytail was already held in her hand, her fingers playing with the silky strand. Released from its restraints, Ju Xing's black hair tumbled around his face and shoulders, emphasizing his pallor and the scars on his cheek.

Ju Xing let out an angry hiss and this time, attacked the girl viciously, his sword hacking and cleaving, the broadsword creating brilliant sparks as it tangled with An Ning's blade. Ju Xing was stronger and put An Ning on the defense several times. Ju Xing feint a thrust then slammed his fist viciously right smack on the girl's face, sending her flying across the room. An Ning landed on the ground with a thud, sc.r.a.ping her arms and knees against the stones.

Ju Xing raised his sword to cleave the girl in half but An Ning stopped the downward movement by deftly catching the blade between her feet. She then extended a leg and kicked the sword out of Lu Xing's hold. The sword cluttered to the ground. Ju Xing groaned in pain, clutching his wrist in his other hand.

Swift as lightning, An Ning hefted the blade in her hand and swung at Ju Xing. It caught him in the middle, which made him stagger backwards. The blade again attacked relentlessly, and the sword pierced his shoulder. Deeply wounded, Ju Xing fell on his knees, his mind in a haze of shock. He can barely feel the pain on his wounds as the blood pooled around his knees like a red stain. He raised his head and through the fog in his eyes, he saw the dragon throne. It was magnificent, exactly how he imagined it would look like in his dreams. Raised up on a dais, elegant and majestic, the throne of the G.o.ds, the seat of privilege, the center of the universe.

Ju Xing smiled, raising his arm as if to grasp that elusive image in his hand. It was the last thing he saw before the sword swung for the last time, the blade cleanly slicing his head off from the rest of his body.

An Ning sheathed the sword absent-mindedly, her gaze on the empty throne. She felt nothing as she looked at it. Neither desire nor awe. It was just a chair to her. Not even worth it to wage a war. But perhaps it was different for some people. They needed to sit higher so they could see, and seeing, to feel powerful. She shook her head and sighed, feeling pity for the man who wanted more than anything to sit on the throne and proclaim himself king. After a while, she walked over to the dead man's severed head with its open and staring eyes. She grabbed the head by its hair and carried it outside in the courtyard, where the fighting still showed no signs of letting up.

An Ning stopped when she reached the edge of the square and waited, casually looking around as if she was merely on a stroll outside, and just as casually carrying a man's severed head as if by accident. The fighting gradually slowed then stopped as the combatants from both sides saw her and the severed head in her grasp. There was a cry and a sob which dwindled into stunned oppressive silence.

An Ning walked forward, coldly announcing: "Your commander is dead. Put your weapons down and surrender. Otherwise, you'll never get out of here alive."

The psychology of the moment was profoundly effective. The young, innocent looking girl in her strange costume, her long black hair streaming down her back; the white, delicate hand holding a severed head; the blood dripping behind her like an obscene trail. Even the strongest and bravest man among them felt terror struck his heart. The girl looked young but there was something in her eyes, a hidden covetousness and violence. As if she didn't really care if they surrendered or not. It was nothing to her. But she wouldn't mind cutting their heads off one by one while they're still mulling about it though. The girl looked comfortable killing people, and that's what scared them the most.

They looked at the dripping head and suppressed a shiver.