Chapter 050: The First Crushing Defeat

"Wiped out? Friday, what happened?"

Hearing that one of his units had been annihilated, Wang Bo was surprised but not incredulous or baffled, because he knew well that it was not impossible.

Admittedly, the mechanical soldiers under Wang Bo's command were incredibly powerful, with combat effectiveness beyond imagination; even routing ten times their number was not difficult.

But this world was not the historical world, nor the ancient world.

It was a xianxia world.

Since even immortals existed, it was not impossible for one of his units to be wiped out.

Wang Bo simply wanted to know who had annihilated his troops.

Because in his view, the mortal dynasties should not have the capability to destroy his forces. This was the late Tang, an era of藩镇割据, where even the emperor's orders barely extended beyond Chang'an.

How could those warlords and military governors have the strength to oppose Wang Bo?

Upon hearing Wang Bo's question, Miss Friday's eyes suddenly lit up, a beam of light shot out from inside her eyeballs, and a vivid scene slowly unfolded.

It was a column of mechanical soldiers on the march.

Numbering fifty thousand.

They were faithfully executing Wang Bo's orders, sweeping away all enemies, and were currently advancing toward the territory of Chang'an.

But at that moment, they encountered a person.

A monk in a gray robe.

The monk had a gaunt face, and he blocked the army's path alone, sitting cross-legged on the ground like a golden Buddha in a grand hall, solemn and dignified.

Seeing the monk's posture through the projection, Wang Bo almost thought some Buddha had descended to the mortal world.

But then the monk shattered Wang Bo's illusion.

His mechanical soldiers were emotionless war machines; they cared nothing about who stood in their way—even a Buddha, they would swarm over.

As the mechanical soldiers kept closing in on the monk, the monk took out an object from his robe.

It was a tiger tally.

The monk casually tossed the tiger tally into the air. It flew up, hovered in the sky, and then one after another, ghost soldiers and ghost generals rushed out from the tiger tally, blotting out the sky and covering the earth, endless and unceasing.

The countless ghost soldiers and generals were too many—ten thousand, twenty thousand, thirty thousand, a hundred thousand, two hundred thousand... In less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, they had overwhelmed Wang Bo's mechanical soldiers.

The two sides engaged in close combat, but the battle was not fierce, because Wang Bo witnessed a one-sided rout.

Ever since Wang Bo descended into this world and deployed his mechanical soldiers, they had always ended battles with overwhelming force.

Compared to them, human soldiers were utterly insignificant.

But today, Wang Bo's mechanical soldiers finally received the same treatment.

They charged forward bravely, attacking the enemy incessantly. But it was useless.

They never retreated, pressing on undaunted, but still it was of no avail.

Because their attacks simply could not hit the enemy, or rather, their attacks could not inflict any damage on the enemy at all.

Whether bullets or blades, when they struck the ghost soldiers and generals, they passed right through their bodies.

Meanwhile, the ghost soldiers and generals, utterly indifferent, raised their swords, spears, halberds, and axes, cleaving open the mechanical soldiers' bodies, chopping off their heads, and destroying their internal circuits.

Thus, one by one, the mechanical soldiers lost their combat capability and turned into scrap metal. The entire battle lasted no more than half an hour, ending with the victory of the ghost soldiers and generals. Wang Bo's mechanical soldiers were thoroughly crushed.

After the battle, the monk raised his hand, and the tiger tally sucked all the ghost soldiers and generals back, slowly falling into the monk's hand.

The monk placed the tiger tally into his robe, stood up, and turned to leave.

From beginning to end, his expression did not change, as if defeating the enemy was only natural.

Then Miss Friday dismissed the projection and said slowly, "That is what happened, Master."

Wang Bo silently watched the scene just shown, his eyes shifting as he recalled the image of the sky-darkening ghost soldiers and generals, deeply astonished.

This was the mortal world, after all. With hundreds of thousands of ghost soldiers and generals appearing, why did the underworld not react?

It was unscientific.

Could it be that the underworld did not know that someone in the mortal realm could control hundreds of thousands of ghost soldiers and generals?

Or perhaps they were deliberately turning a blind eye?

And who was that solemn monk? Was he really a Buddha? Impossible—why would a Buddha involve himself in mortal power struggles?

Could it be that his actions these past days had attracted the attention of the immortals and Buddhas in heaven, and they had specially sent a monk to stop him and restore order, to steer history back on track?

That did not seem impossible.

After all, in this era, even Yuan Tiangang and Li Chunfeng could produce a book that would be remembered through the ages—the Tuibei Tu.

There was no reason the immortals and Buddhas would not know the future.

Even if they did not know the minor details of the future, they should at least know the major events, such as the dynastic changes of Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming, and Qing, which should not escape the eyes of the Buddha and immortals.

Wang Bo's appearance and the rise of his mechanical soldiers had undoubtedly disrupted the course of history.

So it was not inconceivable for the immortals and Buddhas to send a monk to set things right.

Wang Bo now strongly suspected the identity of this monk.

"Friday, help me investigate who this monk really is."

Friday said slowly, "Master, I have already investigated. This monk appeared in Chang'an not long ago, claiming he could resolve the Tang's crisis. He was appointed by the reigning emperor as the Supreme National Preceptor, overseeing all supernatural matters in the Tang, and he calls himself Cihang Pudu."

Cihang Pudu?

Upon hearing this, Wang Bo nearly jumped up.

That name was not casually chosen. If Wang Bo remembered correctly, Cihang Pudu was closely related to Guanyin Bodhisattva, and might even be the Buddhist Guanyin Bodhisattva herself.

But the question was, would Guanyin Bodhisattva personally intervene in mortal dynastic struggles?

Impossible.

And even if Guanyin Bodhisattva did intervene, would she summon ghost soldiers and generals to deal with his mechanical soldiers? Would the dignified Guanyin Bodhisattva need to summon ghost soldiers and generals to handle a force of fifty thousand mechanical soldiers?

No matter how he looked at it, it did not make sense.

Wang Bo seriously doubted that this monk was Guanyin Bodhisattva at all.

Moreover, in this world, Guanyin Bodhisattva was likely female.

So he thought carefully about who else would dare to call themselves Cihang Pudu besides Guanyin Bodhisattva. And indeed, Wang Bo thought of someone—or rather, something that was not human.

It was a demon, a centipede spirit that had cultivated for a thousand years.