Keyboard Immortal - Chapter 2939

Chapter 1452 Solo Journey to the Meeting

Zu An was led to Zhang Bao’s military camp. The camp was built against the mountainside, its black fence still stained with dried blood. The air was thick with a malevolent aura and the stench of various ferocious beasts.

On either side of the gate, two enormous beast skeletons served as decorations, their empty eye sockets seemingly watching every visitor.

The gate swung open with a bang. The scout who had led the way gestured for him to enter,

but Zu An didn’t hesitate and walked straight in.

A murderous intent, almost tangible, washed over him. Thousands of elite soldiers, their armor gleaming, stood in formation on either side, stretching from the gate to the central command tent.

Not a single one uttered a sound; they simply gripped their weapons silently, staring at him with the gaze one would give a dead man.

Swords were drawn, their cold light flashing, forming a chilling forest of blades in the sunlight.

Even more terrifying was the palpable aura of killing intent emanating from these soldiers, creating an invisible, oppressive domain.

These soldiers were far more elite than the troops under Cheng Yuanzhi and Gao Sheng that Zu An had encountered before. A mere thousand or so soldiers standing here exuded an aura comparable to an army of ten thousand.

No wonder they were subordinates of Zhang Bao, the second-in-command of the Yellow Turban Army!

If an ordinary cultivator had entered, their legs would likely have gone weak and their composure would have crumbled.

Although Zu An felt the immense pressure, his face showed no fear, and he calmly continued walking forward.

At this moment, a one-eyed general stepped forward. He was tall and imposing, his steps heavy and powerful, each one causing the ground to tremble slightly.

He walked up to Zu An, scrutinizing him with a hint of contempt: “You’re Liu Bei, the one who killed countless of our brothers?”

“In comparison, I’ve saved far more Yellow Turban lives,” Zu An replied calmly.

“Smooth talker! How dare you come here again! What should we do?” The one-eyed general looked at the surrounding soldiers.

The soldiers on both sides simultaneously raised their weapons, pointing them at Zu’an’s vital points. The clanging of metal against metal rose and fell, like the sharpening of death’s blade.

They roared in unison, “Kill!”

The shouts of thousands merged into a single wave, distorting the air itself.

Wisps of black energy rose from the entire camp, and countless vengeful spirits of the dead rushed towards him—some with severed limbs, some disemboweled, some bleeding from all seven orifices—all emitting piercing screams.

This was the “Ten Thousand Souls Killing Array,” forged with countless lives; countless invincible heroes had crumbled before it.

Zu’an’s steps remained steady; he neither quickened nor slowed, each step perfectly measured, as if he were measuring death with his footsteps.

When the malevolent phantoms reached within three feet of him, they suddenly scattered with screams, as if encountering something terrifying.

The black energy not only dared not approach but also parted to make way for him.

The living might not feel it, but these wronged souls knew very well that this man possessed the authority of the Lord of the Underworld. The natural aura of superiority made all the wronged souls tremble.

Zu An almost laughed; any place in Hell was more terrifying than this. Trying to scare him with this was like showing off one’s limited skills before an expert.

The one-eyed general’s expression changed upon seeing this, and he instinctively tightened his grip on his sword hilt.

Just then, Zu An suddenly spoke: “I have come here to discuss important matters with the renowned General Di Gong. Has this one-eyed man already taken charge of this military camp?”

His voice, though not loud, clearly carried throughout the entire camp.

The one-eyed man instantly flew into a rage: “What did you say?”

Yan Zheng’s anger level increased by 444+444+444…

Several of his hot-tempered henchmen had already drawn their swords, waiting for the order to chop Zu An into mincemeat.

Zu An stopped and glanced at him.

That one glance sent chills down Yan Zheng’s spine.

He felt he was facing not a young man, but a high and mighty deity.

Those eyes were calm as still water, yet he sensed the breath of death.

Zu An’s lips curled slightly, but he didn’t answer, continuing to stride forward.

Yan Zheng’s hand trembled violently, pressing against his sword, but he couldn’t pull it out.

He didn’t understand; despite being surrounded by his soldiers and having the upper hand, why didn’t he dare to attack him?

What had this guy gone through to have such calm yet unfathomable eyes?

The other soldiers exchanged bewildered glances, their morale plummeting, and their weapons instinctively fell to the ground.

In the central command tent, several high-ranking members of the Yellow Turban Army witnessed this scene, their expressions shifting from contempt to solemnity.

They had initially thought Liu Bei’s arrival for peace talks was a joke.

Now, with their army pressing in, was peace talks even necessary?

So they unanimously planned to give him a show of force, to see his disgrace.

Who knew the other side’s reaction would be so unexpected? It seemed the initiative in the negotiations was no longer in their hands.

Zu An entered the commander’s tent, where two rows of generals sat, followed by dozens of axemen.

Having roughly guessed their initial arrangement, Zu An didn’t even glance at them, walking straight forward to Zhang Bao, who sat in the main seat, and bowed: “Liu Xuande greets General Di Gong!”

Zhang Bao sat upright in the commander’s seat at the front, wearing a wide yellow robe covered in various runes, a distinctive feature of the Yellow Turban Army.

He wore a ferocious mask, exuding an air of religious mystery.

Zu An secretly pondered that Zhang Bao usually didn’t show his true face; if he were to die in battle, wouldn’t it be easy to find a replacement to impersonate him?

At this moment, someone in the tent shouted: “Why don’t you kneel?” “

In this world, one should only kneel to Heaven and Earth, to one’s parents; how can one kneel to others at will?” Zu An calmly replied.

“How dare you!” Those around him rose, and the atmosphere in the tent suddenly became tense.

At this moment, Zhang Bao, who was in the main seat, waved his hand, gesturing for everyone to sit down. He then curiously looked at Zu An: “Even if you encountered your emperor, you wouldn’t kneel?”

His voice wasn’t as authoritative as expected; instead, it carried a hint of mockery.

“If General Di Gong is willing to kneel before the emperor, I can accompany him.”

Those around him glared angrily at him.

(Anger points from Zhou Cang +119 +119 +119…

from Pei Yuanshao +119 +119 +119…

from…)

Zu An subconsciously glanced at the two men, surprised that they were now under Zhang Bao’s command.

In *Romance of the Three Kingdoms*, Zhou Cang was a staunch loyalist of Guan Yu. Pei Yuanshao had also originally joined Guan Yu, but was killed by the unsuspecting Zhao Yun while stealing a horse—truly an extremely unlucky endeavor.

“Indeed an interesting fellow,” Zhang Bao chuckled. “What exactly do you wish to discuss this time?”

Zu An then revealed his purpose: to release tens of thousands of surrendered Yellow Turban soldiers in exchange for their withdrawal.

Zhang Bao nodded: “Alright, I agree!”

Zu An: “???”

Now it was his turn to be shocked. He had prepared many arguments, but none of them had been used; it was almost too good to be true.