Chapter 15: Okeji Mountain War

Suddenly, loud crash—weapon clash. The wave spread, scatter Celestial Soldiers.

Musa Lawal voice sound for front:

"All troops attack, flatten Okeji Mountain!"

The wave strong; some Spirit Elder Celestial Soldiers with connection get wound.

Sun Zikora self feel him spiritual energy block, but since he far, he take elixir, balance.

Before he recover, discipline officer draw blade, cut one Celestial Soldier wey still dey. Musa Lawal don give order, war drum dey beat.

If you hear drum no move, na death.

Sun Zikora quickly raise spear, order him men attack.

Battlefield big, but all na immortals—thousand miles na small thing. Fight start sharp sharp.

118th Battalion hundred thousand Celestial Soldiers follow late Celestial Immortal commander attack one big mountain where demons dey.

General face general, soldier face soldier—Sun Zikora sabi him level. Small demon he fit handle, demon king go kill am.

This still be Okeji Mountain edge; demons here no be ancient bloodline, just normal demons—mostly Spirit Elder, True Elder, even some never reach immortal.

Sun Zikora battalion no be main force, regiment or squad. Him company commander position no go face big wahala.

One snake-head demon, late True Elder, red tongue with Celestial Soldier blood, see Sun Zikora team, charge.

Sun Zikora wave hand, hundred Celestial Soldiers set barrier. No matter enemy power, defense first.

Snake demon block by barrier, turn true form—hundred-foot python. E coil barrier, barrier crack. As e wan break, Sun Zikora move.

With right hand wave, hundred Celestial Soldiers change formation—defense to attack—scatter, spear the snake demon from all side.

Snake demon miss, vex, raise head, swallow dozens of Celestial Soldiers. As he see him people eaten, Sun Zikora no gree.

He throw spear at snake head, draw sword, sword divide to two, then four, then over thousand swords dey fly around, attack snake demon...

This small fight no cause any wahala; for thirty million miles of Okeji Mountain, this kind fight full everywhere.

Who for battlefield never suffer before to become immortal?

Now, for this meat grinder, life cheap like sand. Nobody send.

Sun Zikora lean on spear, tired, half spear stuck for snake demon head, look the far battlefield, sigh again.

No matter how you fight, if you no catch Great Sage, na loss.

No time to reason. After small rest, he gather remaining forty, fifty men, go deeper into forest, where bigger demons dey wait.

Blood soak sand. Drums beat louder. Spirit shadows dance for corner. Sweat, old palm oil, and burnt incense mix for air—true Celestial Soldier barracks smell. I mutter prayer, "God, make my spirit ancestors guide my hand—today no be the day to die."