Invincible: I Level Up In My Sleep

Blood On The Ironcliff Walls

The bitter northern gale howled over the ramparts of Ironcliff City, carrying with it the heavy, suffocating scent of incoming blood and ash.

Down in the streets, chaos reigned. Citizens scrambled to board up their windows, while merchants abandoned their stalls to flee toward the inner keep. On the main defensive wall, three hundred remaining city guards stood huddled together, their hands shaking as they gripped their rusted spears. They were standard mortal soldiers, with only a handful of captains having barely reached Level 1 or 2 of the Qi Refinement Realm.

To them, this wasn't a defensive operation. It was a execution line.

"They're coming! The Iron-Blood vanguard is here!" a scout screamed from the watchtower, his voice cracking with pure terror.

On the horizon, the treeline shattered. A deafening roar of war horns shook the loose snow from the valley rocks. Emerging from the woods was a terrifying torrent of black iron and fur—five hundred elite heavy cavalry of the Iron-Blood Tribe. Mounted on massive, red-eyed war beasts, they moved like an avalanche.

Leading the charge was a towering man clad in spiked bronze armor. He wielded a massive, dual-bladed battleaxe that hummed with a violent, muddy brown energy.

"It's Ba Tu!" a captain gasped, his face turning entirely pale. "The Iron-Blood Vanguard Commander... he's a Level 10 Bronze Meridian master! We're dead... we're all dead!"

Just as panic was about to break the soldiers' ranks, the heavy iron gate leading from the inner castle creaked open.

Two figures stepped out onto the high walkway of the defensive wall.

The first was Fan Changyu, her armor cleaned of grime, her iron sword resting against her shoulder. Her expression was a mask of cold, unyielding focus. But it was the man walking slightly ahead of her that made every soldier turn their head in sheer disbelief.

Prince Yan Zheng wore his luxurious, fur-lined royal robes, stepping casually onto the wooden platform of the vanguard tower. He didn't wear a single piece of armor, nor did he carry a weapon. Yet, as he stood at the edge of the wall, looking down at the charging horde, his presence was so immovably calm that the chaotic wind seemed to die down around him.

"Your Highness? What is the trash prince doing here?!" a soldier muttered in a frantic whisper. "Does he want to surrender personally?"

"Silence!" Fan Changyu’s voice rang out across the wall, infused with a sharp burst of her own Qi. "The traitor Zhao has been executed for high treason. From this moment forth, Prince Yan Zheng commands the forces of Ironcliff. Anyone who speaks of retreat will be executed on the spot!"

The soldiers gasped, but before they could process the news of the Prime Minister's death, the thunderous stampede of the Iron-Blood cavalry reached the base of the outer moat.

Ba Tu pulled the reins of his massive war beast, grinding the vanguard to a halt just a hundred meters outside the city gates. He looked up at the wall, his gaze locking onto Yan Zheng’s pristine royal robes. A cruel, boisterous laugh erupted from his chest, shaking the air.

"So, the old dog Zhao failed to deliver your head to me!" Ba Tu roared, raising his glowing bronze axe toward Yan Zheng. "Frail little prince, look at your pathetic walls! Look at your trembling dogs! If you kneel right now, crawl out of that gate, and kiss my boots, I might leave your corpse intact when I burn this city to the ground!"

The five hundred cavalrymen behind him erupted into mocking laughter, banging their weapons against their shields. The sound was deafening, completely crushing the last remaining morale of the Ironcliff guards.

Yan Zheng didn't answer. He simply looked down at Ba Tu, his dark eyes narrowing slightly.

In his mind, a sharp, clean system notification pinged.

[Main Quest Phase 1: Defend the Gates.]

[Target Identified: Vanguard Commander Ba Tu.]

[Cultivation Realm: Level 10 (Peak Bronze Meridian Realm).]

[System Target Status: Elite Boss Entity.]

[Reward for Execution: 500 EXP, 1x Rare Tier 1 Equipment Box, Unlocking of the Shadow-Guard Legion Summoning System.]

"A Level 10 Bronze Meridian master," Yan Zheng murmured to himself, a cold, dangerous thrill pulsing through his veins. "In this world, you are considered a regional terror. But to my system... you are just a walking loot box."

He turned his head slightly toward Fan Changyu. "Changyu."

"Your Highness!" she stepped forward, bowing her head.

"Hold the wall. Don't let a single enemy cross the threshold."

"Understood, but... Your Highness, what are you doing?" Fan Changyu's eyes widened as she watched Yan Zheng place his bare hands on the stone edge of the battlements.

He didn't call for an archer squad. He didn't order the boiling oil to be prepared. Instead, Yan Zheng lightly vaulted over the stone railing, stepping out into the open air.

"Your Highness?!" a dozen captains screamed in horror.

The wall was over thirty meters high. For a mortal with no Qi to jump from this height was nothing short of absolute suicide. Even a Qi Refinement cultivator would break their legs without an advanced light-body technique.

Fan Changyu lunged forward, her hand reaching out to grab his robes, but her fingers caught only empty air.

Yan Zheng fell straight down like a meteor.

As the wind whipped past his face, he closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, feeling the explosive, dense physical power of his Level 1 Dread Knight foundation running rampant through his muscles. His body mass felt as heavy and unyielding as a falling boulder.

BOOM!

Yan Zheng slammed directly into the dead, frozen earth right in front of the city gates.

The sheer force of his impact created a violent shockwave, blowing a massive cloud of snow, dirt, and shattered stone twenty feet into the air. The ground cracked in a web-like pattern beneath his feet.

The mocking laughter of the five hundred Iron-Blood cavalry cut off instantly. The war beasts reared back, snorting in sudden panic.

Up on the walls, the Ironcliff soldiers rushed to the edge, peering down through the dust cloud, expecting to see a bloody heap of broken bones.

But as the wind cleared the debris, Yan Zheng stood perfectly upright in the crater. His royal robes were slightly dust-stained, but his expression was completely unblemished. He casually rotated his neck, a series of deep, metallic pops echoing from his spine. His physical foundation, tempered by the Crucible’s elixir, hadn't sustained a single scratch.

He stood entirely alone, facing five hundred elite heavy cavalry.

"You want my city?" Yan Zheng raised his right hand, gesturing toward Ba Tu with a casual, mocking flick of his fingers. "Come and take it.”