The battlefield was a cacophony of screaming metal and dying men, but for Xiao Ke, the world suddenly went silent.
He was mid-stride, lunging toward an opponent, when a phantom icy hand gripped the base of his spine. It was a primal, screaming alarm—the kind that hits a hunter in the deep woods when the wind shifts and he realizes he is no longer the predator, but the prey.
Xiao Ke knew this feeling. It was the taste of copper in his mouth and the smell of ozone. He had felt it back in Black River Town, amidst the slaughter of his people. He remembered the desperate sprint for survival, the sensation of being tracked through the scope of a Centurion's sniper rifle. It was the feeling of a crosshair burning a hole between his shoulder blades.
Hundreds of meters away, perched on the dark skeleton of a ruined rooftop, the Shadow Killer knelt.
He was a statue of malice, his breathing shallow and rhythmic. His sniper rifle was an extension of his body, the scope locked firmly on Xiao Ke's skull. The target was moving, but for a marksman of Shadow's caliber, Xiao Ke might as well have been standing still.
Now.
Shadow's finger tightened on the trigger. It was a motion he had performed thousands of times, a muscle memory that usually ended in a spray of pink mist. But in that fraction of a second—between the neural command to fire and the mechanical release of the firing pin—doubt struck him.
It was unprecedented. Shadow was a professional, a reaper who could strip a willow branch of its leaves from a kilometer away. Usually, the moment the trigger broke, he knew the outcome. He knew the wind, the drop, the rotation of the earth. He knew the bullet would land before it even left the barrel.
This shot should have been perfect.
But as the mechanism clicked, Shadow felt a hollow pit open in his stomach. A premonition of failure.
Down on the chaotic ground, Xiao Ke did not think; he obeyed the screaming instinct in his blood. Mid-sprint, he threw himself forward, a motion that looked less like a tactical dodge and more like a man tripping over an invisible wire. He hit the dirt hard.
A split second later, the air where his head had been disintegrated. The high-caliber round shrieked past, snapping the sound barrier inches above his scalp, missing him by a margin so thin it could be measured in heartbeats.
"Bizarre," Shadow muttered, his brow furrowing behind the scope.
He cycled the bolt, the spent casing clattering against the roof tiles. He prepared for a follow-up shot, but the hairs on his arms stood up. The hunter was being hunted.
From the shadows of a nearby structure, a silhouette launched itself into the night sky. The figure moved with the grace of a raptor, defying gravity as it soared toward Shadow's position.
Shadow adjusted his optics. The newcomer was fast—terrifyingly so. A Rank 9 Valiant General. The man was young, under thirty, with a face carved from granite and eyes that held no warmth. On his chest, the embroidered crest of the Ye Clan caught the moonlight.
Shadow's mind raced through his dossiers. When Qiao Zhennan had ordered this hit, Shadow had done his homework. He knew Ye Yun was the eldest daughter of the powerful Ye Clan. He knew about the hundred elite guards. And he knew about the shadow they kept in reserve.
Ye Tianlong.
An orphan adopted by the Ye patriarchs, raised not as a son, but as a weapon. He was the Ye Clan's silent dagger, sent into the Lawless Lands for one purpose: to ensure Ye Yun survived.
Shadow had scanned for him earlier and found nothing. Now, the dagger had revealed itself.
Ideally, Shadow would stand his ground. In terms of raw kinetic potential, he was not necessarily inferior to Ye Tianlong. But Shadow was an assassin, not a duelist. His creed was one shot, one kill, vanish. To be dragged into a protracted melee was to invite death.
As Ye Tianlong descended upon him, Shadow made his choice. He stood up, abandoning cover. With a fluid motion, he fired the sniper rifle from the hip, a thunderous boom echoing across the rooftops.
Ye Tianlong's body contorted in mid-air, a supernatural refraction of movement that let the bullet pass harmlessly through his afterimage.
Shadow didn't panic. He worked the bolt with blinding speed—clack-clack—and fired again. Bang. And again. Bang.
He wasn't trying to kill Ye Tianlong anymore; he was buying seconds. After the final shot, Shadow didn't even bother to shoulder the rifle. He dropped the expensive weapon, turned, and dissolved into the ink-black night like a fish slipping back into deep water.
Ye Tianlong landed softly where Shadow had stood moments before. He glanced down at the discarded rifle, then looked toward the darkness where his quarry had vanished. His muscles were coiled to pursue, but he forced himself to relax. His mission was protection, not vengeance. Chasing a sniper into the dark was a classic way to fall into a "Lure the Tiger from the Mountain" trap.
Down on the battlefield, Xiao Ke scrambled to his feet. He glanced toward the distant roof, his eyes narrowing. He had seen the muzzle flash, and he had seen the second figure intervene.
Who was that? Xiao Ke wondered. Someone driving away the sniper? A hidden expert from the family of my sworn brothers?
The thought was fleeting. Around him, the air was thick with the smell of cordite and blood. The battle was raging, and introspection was a luxury he couldn't afford. Gripping the hilt of his massive war blade, "Fierce General," he turned back to the slaughter.
"Die!"
A hostile captain from the "Guns & Roses" faction charged him, a heavy machete raised high. He was a Battle General, a man used to cutting through lesser soldiers like wheat.
He was nothing to Xiao Ke.
Xiao Ke didn't even slow down. He stepped into the man's guard, the "Fierce General" blade humming as it sliced through the air. It was a heavy weapon, but in Xiao Ke's hands, fueled by his monstrous strength, it moved with the lightness of a feather.
They passed each other. The enemy captain took three more steps before his body realized it was dead. The top half of his torso slid slowly off his hips, crashing to the bloody earth in a heap of gore.
"Monster..." one of the enemy soldiers gasped.
"He's too dangerous! Swarm him!" another shouted.
A dozen enemy officers, all battle-hardened veterans, abandoned their duels and converged on Xiao Ke. They came like a pack of wolves, hoping to drag down the bear.
But Xiao Ke was in a trance of violence. He was no longer a novice. The "Fierce General" became a blur of steel, a fan of death that created a perimeter of destruction. He used the most basic military kill-forms—simple chops, thrusts, and sweeps—but backed by his terrifying strength, simplicity became sovereignty.
Every time the blade connected, armor shattered, and limbs evaporated. He was a meat grinder, painting the ground red with every step.
"Form up! Protect the Commander!"
Duan Canglong and Luo Hou crashed into the fray, leading a hundred of Xiao Ke's personal guards. They formed a steel phalanx around him, cutting off the enemy's attempt to encircle him. With his flanks secure, Xiao Ke became an unstoppable spearhead.
To his left and right, Ling Feng and Ye Yun led their own elite retinues into the meat grinder. These were the private armies of the high nobility—warriors equipped with the best gear the Empire could provide. They hit the ragtag forces of "Guns & Roses" like a sledgehammer hitting glass.
But the true spectacle was happening elsewhere.
Qin Bing, the strongest warrior of the Iron Wheel, was carving a path straight to the enemy command.
She was a Rank 9 Valiant General, a designation that meant she was less a soldier and more a force of nature. She moved with predatory elegance, leaping into the air and running across the heads of the enemy crowd. Every time her boot connected with a helmet, there was a sickening crunch, and a man died, his skull collapsed by the force of her stride.
Under the enemy banner, Song Jiongyang watched her approach.
He had underestimated them. He had looked at the Iron Wheel and seen a ragtag group led by a Rank 5 nobody. He hadn't expected the scions of the great clans to bring such firepower. And he certainly hadn't expected a monster like Qin Bing.
"So be it," Song Jiongyang whispered.
He slowly drew his saber. The blade hummed to life, glowing with a harsh white luminance powered by Origin Force. He narrowed his eyes behind his visor. "Let me see what the Empire's dogs are made of."
Qin Bing descended from the sky, her movement technique as elusive as smoke. In the blink of an eye, she breached the command circle.
Song Jiongyang's personal guard, a dozen hand-picked elites, rushed to intercept her. Qin Bing didn't break stride. She swept her light-saber in a horizontal arc. A beam of white Origin Force detached from the blade, slicing through the air like a laser.
The guards didn't even scream. The beam passed through them, and they simply fell apart, severed cleanly at the waist.
"Damn you!"
Song Jiongyang's killing intent flared. He slammed his hand against his helmet, snapping the black faceplate shut. He was now a faceless juggernaut of black steel and white energy.
"Tonight," his voice boomed, mechanically amplified, "I will show you the true power of the Lawless Lands!"
Qin Bing offered no words. She stepped over the corpses of his guards, her glowing sword raised.
"Taste my blade! The Thousand Layer Wave!"
Song Jiongyang moved with shocking speed for a man in heavy armor. He met her charge, raising his sword high. As he brought it down, the Origin Force coating the blade flared. It trailed white light like a comet, the energy compounding on itself, growing heavier and more turbulent with every inch it descended.
It looked less like a sword strike and more like a tsunami of pure energy crashing down to drown her.
In the distance, Xiao Ke and his lieutenants felt the atmospheric shift. The sheer pressure of the Origin Force made the air vibrate. It was a strike meant to pulverize mountains.
For a moment, Qin Bing's slender form disappeared beneath the cascading white light. Xiao Ke's heart hammered against his ribs. Can she survive that?
Then, a piece of brilliance broke the wave.
Like a bright moon rising from a stormy sea, Qin Bing's sword light tore through Song Jiongyang's attack. She burst through the energy wave, her blade aimed straight for his heart.
BOOM!
The weapons collided. The shockwave was physical, a rippling sphere of distortion that blasted outward. The ground beneath them cracked. Stray jets of compressed Origin Force shot out like shrapnel, punching holes through nearby soldiers who were unlucky enough to be watching.
They separated and clashed again, instantly blurring into a high-speed duel.
It was a battle of attrition. Both warriors had opened their internal martial nodes to the limit, burning through their reserves of Origin Force to sustain lethal output. Every parry, every thrust was heavy enough to kill a lesser man instantly.
They were evenly matched. But in a battle of attrition, a tie is just a slow death for both. Their swords began to dim. Sweat poured down their faces behind their visors.
Xiao Ke saw the stalemate. He saw the fatigue setting in.
"Support Qin Bing!" he roared over the din of battle.
Ling Feng and Ye Yun nodded. They knew the stakes. If Qin Bing fell, the enemy commander would be free to slaughter the rank and file. A Rank 9 warrior, unchecked, could turn a victory into a massacre in minutes.
"Go!"
Ling Feng moved first. He was a blur of motion, circling Song Jiongyang's blind spot while the commander was locked blades with Qin Bing. He lunged, his sword aiming for the gap in the armor at the armpit.
But Song Jiongyang was a veteran of a thousand wars. He didn't need to see Ling Feng; he felt the shift in the air.
With a grunt of exertion, Song Jiongyang shoved Qin Bing back. He didn't turn. He simply pivoted his wrist and unleashed a backhanded Thousand Layer Wave toward the ambusher.
Ling Feng's eyes went wide. He had expected a distracted opponent, not a prepared one. The wall of energy rushed toward him, inescapable. I'm dead, he thought, the cold reality settling in.
But he wasn't alone.
Ye Yun materialized from the chaos, transforming into a wisp of smoke that bypassed the energy wave. She struck from the left, her rapier darting toward Song Jiongyang's ear. Simultaneously, Qin Bing recovered and lunged from the front.
Song Jiongyang was trapped. If he followed through on killing Ling Feng, he would take a rapier to the brain and a light-saber to the heart.
He roared in frustration, aborting his attack. He triggered all nine of his martial nodes at once, turning his body into a bomb of Origin Force.
A shockwave exploded from his feet, expanding in a violent ring.
It slammed into Ling Feng and Ye Yun. Despite their Rank 8 strength, they were swatted away like flies in a gale, tumbling backward across the torn earth.
But the move cost Song Jiongyang too much energy. He was momentarily drained, his defense open.
Qin Bing saw the window. She struck with the speed of a lightning bolt, a vertical slash aimed at his skull.
Desperate, Song Jiongyang threw his sword up in a rigid block, bracing his legs in a deep bow stance.
CLANG!
The sound was deafening. The ground beneath Song Jiongyang's boots pulverized into dust. He caught the blade, but his arms trembled, his muscles screaming as he held back the executioner's stroke.
He was focused entirely on the woman in front of him. He was completely exhausted. Old energy spent, new energy not yet gathered.
He didn't see the shadow behind him.
Xiao Ke arrived like a phantom. He didn't have the grace of Ye Yun or the technique of Qin Bing. He had gravity, and he had strength.
He gripped "Fierce General" with both hands, leaped into the air, and brought the massive blade down on Song Jiongyang's exposed back.
It was a strike that could have split a tank.
CRUNCH.
The impact shuddered through Song Jiongyang's entire frame. But to Xiao Ke's horror, the blade did not cleave the man in two. The black armor held.
Black Crystal, Xiao Ke realized. The legendary metal of the Lawless Lands.
But physics could not be denied. The armor didn't break, but it buckled. A massive dent caved inward, crushing the spine and muscle beneath. The Black Crystal cracked, spiderweb fractures spreading across the plate, and a jet of high-pressure blood hissed out from the fissure.
Song Jiongyang screamed. The Iron Wheel had drawn first blood.