Chapter Ninety-Five: The Heat of Battle
The barely five-foot-high wall surrounding the Taoist temple was no barrier against the swarm of enemies pouring in from all directions. In an instant, over a dozen warriors in blue robes, each wielding sharp blades, landed in the courtyard, sealing off every escape route for Fang Xiao. Yet before these cold-faced assassins could unleash their deadliest moves, a blood-red blaze caught their eyes. The black iron spear in Fang Xiao’s hand ignited instantly.
Yuan Yuanzi was guarding the divine furnace in a grand hall deep within the mountain’s core when a disciple came in to report that the ancestor of the Wa Huang family wished to discuss urgent matters. Therefore, Chen Qinglang’s meeting with Emperor Chen was far easier than the usual negotiations with wealthy tycoons in the marketplace. Meanwhile, Yu Pianxian knew only to bear her suffering silently; even entrusting Ji Tian to eliminate Ji Qian had required immense resolve.
Gunfire bloomed silently from the silenced barrel, the bullet tearing through the air to reduce a mechanical scourge not far off to scrap metal. Under such circumstances, Liu Yishang still held back—when would he reveal his true strength, if not now? Qin Xuan felt a gentle pinch on his arm; Qin Mingyue discreetly signaled him, prompting Qin Xuan to ask in puzzlement, “Sister, why are you pinching me?” Qin Mingyue turned away, feeling exasperated enough to wish she could disappear. If he had said that in front of Bai Xiaotong, she would have scolded him relentlessly until he was utterly ashamed.
Zhuge Shangming explained, “That isn’t a technique; it’s what later generations call the last great calamity of heaven and earth.” “Brother, add me as a friend,” Long Ge approached then, patting Ye Fei’s shoulder with eyes full of admiration. In truth, he had been astonished by Ye Fei’s skillful maneuvers from the start. Yet before Wang Yu could celebrate his promotion, an alarm sounded from the emblem he carried. Su Zhengqiu nearly spat blood but dared not offend him, swallowing his frustration silently. Though the amount was trivial to him, it left a sour taste.
“Senior Hao, I once thought Tiemu Yun was an underground dweller, but I was wrong. When I reached the subterranean lava, I found no trace of him. His true strength surpasses Huo’s, with even greater potential.” “Is he really that skilled in cuisine to claim the title of Tongue Emperor?” Zhong Lingyu was displeased, believing such a moniker was not to be taken lightly by just anyone.
No matter what—the two being from different worlds or the same—there was little he could do except offer what help he could. Once the matter was fully resolved, the underdog must abandon futile hopes. Yet sometimes, enduring a matter doesn’t guarantee that others will do the same. While one wishes things to pass quietly, others may think otherwise, complicating matters further.
A super-rich heir from the Shanghai-Hangzhou region, eager to forge ties with Lin Feng, spared no expense to buy a mansion in the Wangfu Century and gifted it to him. “Aren’t you his friend? How could you not know?” Su Linlin’s vigilance was sharp; Zhong Lingyu was startled, quickly explaining he had just returned from abroad and hadn’t heard anything. The creature’s expression turned disdainful—how could a seventh-rank magical beast’s body be harmed by mere missiles?
Qin Dongxue struggled to steady her emotions, her delicate, slender fingers returning to the keyboard. The sudden upheaval startled Huo Chao slightly. The Fire Butterfly had missed Tiemu Yun, but that mysterious technique, born of immense spiritual energy, must not be wasted. Determined, Huo Chao directed the Fire Butterfly towards Xiao Yu, who was still crouching and trembling on the ground.
“My name is Han Qinyu, and I am the overseer of the Tianjue Battlefield project,” Han Qinyu said with a smile, extending his hand to Jiang Ling.