Chapter 22

With this move, besides the boost from the True Man’s Elixir, it was also a choice born out of desperation, as he was on his last legs.

Just as these fervent fans were about to rush forward, they were deterred by Link’s sharp gaze and all froze in place, afraid to approach.

This was exactly the outcome the noble families hoped for—after all, they also stood to gain from the tax exemption.

Based on his shallow understanding of firearms, after some observation he was about eighty percent confident that this gun could still be used.

Fang Mobei had no intention of sparing him; he lifted his leg and delivered a precise kick to the chest of the long-haired black warrior. The immense force drove the warrior’s rib into his heart, and after coughing up blood, he was beyond saving.

He recalled that the Warbringer had considerable health; he only wanted to test the damage of a fatal strike under his current luck, but unexpectedly, fortune favored him with a critical hit that instantly took down the Warbringer.

As a result, more and more members of the alien legion developed PTSD from encountering the Wasteland Expeditionary Force, feeling intense fear at the mere mention of the force or Link’s name.

Of course, every nation was the same; if the Mengmeng nation ignored the Flower Cultivation nation’s activities, the Flower Cultivation nation could likewise seize territory from Mengmeng.

Watching their opponents lead them into a remote area, Qingzi and Ciyue exchanged glances, both smiling with intrigue.

A tremendous roar erupted, sand and stones flying as chaos ensued; the surrounding vegetation was pulverized instantly! A massive tiger’s claw left an enormous imprint underground, the earth subsiding several meters! Yet, Feng Nihuang vanished without a trace, leaving only scattered flames dancing in the air.

Upon reopening her eyes, before she could assess her predicament, a fiery pain engulfed her entire body.

Standing at one meter eighty-six, his muscles bulging with explosive power, his face covered with a beard, resembling a wild man, he moved freely through every corner of the valley, possessing exceptional hunter’s physique.

The black light was a talisman; upon contact with the fruit knife, it instantly transformed into a dense black shroud enveloping the blade, drastically slowing its speed and rapidly weakening its force.

Though he did not fully understand the meaning of “broad-minded,” he knew it certainly implied an open heart and an untroubled spirit, not fussing over trivial matters.

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“He was perfectly fine, why would you chop him up…” Bai Donggu expressed helplessness at Xu Xiaofeng’s temper.

Although they gave the meat to her younger brother, at least she had not gone hungry; the meals were simple but sufficient.

Cutting laughter like blades rang out, deepening the gloom and displeasure on the faces of those in the Qing Emperor’s camp.

With the support of the water-element domain, during the 120 minutes of bloodline rebirth, one could fight evenly against the most ordinary A-class creatures.

Yet the golden lion himself paid little heed; it had hurt quite a lot just moments ago, nearly knocking him out, but after a while, the pain subsided.

The next day, after Bran prepared a delicious feast, House ate heartily and then played games with his master, soon forgetting the events of the previous day—after all, mares were no fun compared to masters.

Zhou Tingqing indeed had two younger sisters, one only five years old, the other three; both were still childish and currently at their most unruly.

But Dacheng, having grown up as an attendant beside Zhou Quan, was loyal to the Zhou family’s hierarchy and, seizing Zhou Tingyun’s arm, began to lead him away.

Yuan Shao’s advance force of five thousand was merely probing; Xu Huang understood this well. However, with only a thousand troops at his command, he had to give his all, creating the illusion of a defending force of five or even ten thousand to lure more Yuan Shao’s troops into the trap.

Mu Ye, step by step, seemed to be ensnared by the court’s intrigues, yet actually breaking the scheme by exposing Sun Mao. Without Mu Qingfeng’s assistance, such a feat would have been impossible.

Yan Su rubbed his forehead, feeling his headache worsen. In this game, Ling Susu was doomed to die no matter what; if she wished to survive, she had to avoid courting disaster by either steering clear of the protagonists or by first winning their favor.

Now that Leng Mingxue had suddenly committed suicide, he did not know how to explain it to Leng Rushuang, as this was induced by the Vermilion Bird, essentially no different from ordering someone to kill Leng Mingxue.

“Listen to the reasons for your suspicions, let’s see if you’re clever,” Zuo Ran smirked, teasing.

Judging by Ren Changsi and the others’ expressions, Ling Susu already guessed—they all assumed this was her original plan, believing Ren Changsi would compromise.

---

Within mere breaths, the formidable warriors of the Black Magic Hall were swiftly slaughtered by Ye Yu, leaving only one survivor.

“The principle is the same; although the energy isn’t overwhelmingly powerful, once concentrated at a point, its penetration becomes many times stronger,” Phil roughly understood.

Luca kept questioning from various angles, analyzing the fragmented dialogue between the two, then recalling the information he had seen in the archives, he roughly deduced a reason.

Zhao Yan, pressed for time and indifferent to rarity, raised his hand, grabbed it, and devoured it greedily.

The blood spat out by this guy contained exceptionally potent spiritual energy; Zhao Yan’s expression changed as he reached out to touch the blood.

From her perspective, if casting was based on looks rather than acting skills, she would rather forgo the role.

“Hehe, how dare you underestimate me? Wei Changge may be powerful, but am I any less so?” Feng Xuehen chuckled lightly.

“Commander of the Sixty-Sixth Route Army, Zhenwu Yuxu Palace’s Xiao Jin, has arrived to bear witness!” A man appeared, with sword-like eyebrows and starry eyes, long hair fluttering in the wind, clad in a purple-gold Taoist robe adorned with golden flowing clouds, exceedingly magnificent. A purple flame celestial steed stood beneath him, truly godlike and heroic, like a war deity.

Yi Feng’s face beneath the black cloth mask flickered with a faint smile as he nodded ambiguously.

In any case, Zhang Yuanchao had the habit of writing letters daily; with so many children, even if he wrote five replies a day, it would take twenty days to respond to each.

Someone openly declared this amidst the ranks; soldiers’ helmets and armor were frosted over, many had stuffed leather, sponge, or blanket edges into their clothing to withstand the cold.