Longevity by Picking up Attributes in the Battlefield Chapter 748 Chapter 307: The Power of the Tian Xuan Mirror! Zhao Feng's Plan!

Just.

Lurking in the darkness.

Like a mantis chasing the cicada, blind to the oriole trailing behind.

Unbeknownst to them, certain individuals were keeping tabs on their every move.

"Follow their path, note who they meet, and document it all."

"The Lord will deal with them upon his return." Ying Bu declared calmly.

"Got it."

The Yan Court Secret Agents swiftly departed.

Evidently.

Xianyang's folks are cunning veterans; even assassins dispatched would be disposable troops, tying up all ends.

Zhao Feng had anticipated this long ago, instructing the Yan Court Secret Agents to surveil Xianyang's ministers when he chose to bait them. Any interactions or visits to their homes get logged for later reckoning.

It must be said.

Once they act, they're already in Yan Court's clutches.

Time races by!

In an instant.

Three days elapsed.

Zhao Feng and his five hundred cavalry had put Xianyang miles away.

Three days elapsed.

Zhao Feng and his five hundred cavalry had put Xianyang miles away.

Reaching a barren woodland.

This spot lies more than twenty miles from the closest county.

Zhao Feng's group didn't charge ahead on mounts but advanced leisurely, as if taking a casual ride.

"My Lord."

"This is the perfect ambush site for anyone plotting against you."

"Dozens of miles from counties in both directions—no chance for backup." Zhang Ming grinned.

"They're waiting up front." Zhao Feng smiled faintly.

Through his Divine Sense.

Numerous figures concealed themselves amid the sparse hills and woods ahead.

Additionally, plenty more hid nearby, poised to strike once Zhao Feng stepped into their trap.

"If so, flush them out." Zhao Feng commanded icily.

"Understood."

Zhang Ming bellowed.

"Brothers."

"Ready the crossbows."

Zhang Ming directed.

The five hundred devoted cavalry fanned out, encircling Zhao Feng protectively.

Next, they drew their crossbows.

"Fire!"

With his fierce yell.

Five hundred bolts hurtled toward the forward hill.

In the storm of projectiles.

Countless assassins concealed there fell pierced and slain instantly.

"Trouble."

"Zhao Feng's elite guards spotted us."

"Now that we're exposed, no point hiding."

"Rush forward and eliminate Zhao Feng."

"We've verified: Zhao Feng travels light with just five hundred guards."

"Slay Zhao Feng for eternal glory."

"For riches and honor, charge..."

In the gloom.

The assassins realized Zhao Feng's guards had detected them, so they abandoned stealth.

They rose from cover, nocked their bows and crossbows, targeting Zhao Feng's men.

"Kill Zhao Feng."

"Attack..."

Battle cries rang from various sides, arrows whistling toward the guards.

"Impressive numbers."

"Nearly three thousand altogether."

"Six States survivors, dead men trained by Xianyang nobles."

"Now this gets exciting."

Zhao Feng observed steadily.

Clearly.

For his assassination, they've committed serious manpower this round.

However.

They still misjudged him—and his guards' prowess.

Even solo, Zhao Feng could eradicate these killers entirely.

His five hundred guards alone sufficed to butcher them all.

Doubling their count wouldn't help.

As killers surged from all angles, arrows whizzing wildly.

The guards stayed composed.

Long spears whirled in their grips, batting away the shafts.

Any that slipped through failed to breach the armor.

Armored elites shrug off all but heavy bows and crossbows.

"Spare none."

Zhang Ming roared.

"Charge!"

The guards bellowed together.

They spurred their horses hard.

Five hundred split off, spears aloft, launching the carnage.

These so-called elite killers crumbled like insects against the guards.

A total rout, pure annihilation.

Not even their overwhelming numbers availed them.

"Hold steady, take down Zhao Feng."

"End him..."

Despite the guards' slaughter, assassins fixated on Zhao Feng, desperate to carve through to him.

Yet.

Zhao Feng's mount stood isolated; no killer neared.

Worse, they ignored that Zhao Feng posed the gravest threat.

"No drawn-out fights."

"Unleash True Qi."

Zhao Feng ordered steadily.

At those words.

The five hundred guards activated like divine decree, going all-out.

Before, their spear mastery was potent but lacked True Qi infusion.

Now.

They unleashed fully.

True Qi surged forth.

Suddenly, spear gleams erupted across the field, Sword Qi arcs cleaving the sky.

Zhao Feng's guards, loyal for years and battle-hardened, had cultivated beyond Innate Realm, wielding True Qi.

True Qi Blades streaked through.

Assassins perished mid-breath, bisected unseen.

One sweep.

Dozens skewered by Sword Qi.

"Demons."

"They're demons."

"Not mortals."

"Demons..."

Faced with this horror, assassins froze in terror.

Felled from above.

Sliced from thin air.

This smacked of supernatural might.

They panicked utterly.

Nearly three thousand had stormed in with fierce resolve.

Determined to fell Zhao Feng.

Now reduced to a corpse-strewn wasteland.

Blood drenched the wild woods, bodies littered about.

Each demise horrific—smashed to mush by raw force, rent by True Qi Blades.