CLANG!
Layla's blade intercepted, sparks flying as she blocked the fatal blow.
She didn't look at Zhu Fen. "Stand up! If you cry now, you'll die!"
Zhu Fen was frozen in shock, unable to move. His mind screamed at him to fight, to do something, but his body refused to obey. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think past the sight of Jian Bo lying motionless before him.
Meyu, appearing from the side, grabbed his arm and carrying him while her grip firm was around him.
"Come on, kid" she muttered, sparing him a quick glance. "Not here. Not now."
Zhu Fen barely registered the words. His vision blurred, his chest tightening. Jian Bo was gone.
''NO! LET ME GO!''
Meyu pulled him back toward the defensive line, her voice softer now.
"I know it hurts. But if you stay here, you're next. And I don't think he'd want that, would he?"
Layla swung her blade, forcing the enemy back. The fight wasn't over.
A new opponent rushed at her—a standard Shengong disciple, nothing compared to Xun. But Layla was still seething from Elder Jian Bo's death, her fury simmering just beneath the surface.
The disciple sneered, gripping his sword. "You're already tired. This won't take long."
Layla barely heard him. Her focus was razor-sharp.
"You and your sect deserve worse than death for what you did. I'll fuck you up."
He lunged, his attack predictable. Too predictable infact for her.
Layla sidestepped with ease, countering with a swift slash that severed his arm. The disciple staggered back, eyes wide, but Layla didn't give him time to recover.
She drove her sword into his chest, piercing straight through.
The disciple gasped, blood spilling from his lips. But then his expression twisted into something far worse—pure horror.
Layla infused her Rot Qi into the blade, watching as decay spread through his body from the inside out. His veins blackened, his skin shrivelled, his very flesh wasted away before his own eyes.
"W-what is this—?!" he choked, voice cracking with terror.
"A fate worse than whatever soul corruption you used on my people" Layla said coldly, twisting the blade.
The disciple's screams barely lasted more than a second before his body crumbled to dust.
Despite Layla heroics and kill count going up by the minute. Silver Lotus was losing ground.
The Shengong Sect's Qi disruption techniques continued devastating their fighters.
Lin Wuye battled Shengong Sect's commander, Ren Zian, a man whose strength was as feared as his ruthless tactics.
Their fight was a storm within the war. Each strike of Lin Wuye's blade sent shockwaves through the battlefield, but Ren Zian met him blow for blow, his Qi disrupting the very air around them.
Lin gritted his teeth. Step Seven: Heaven's Howl. He surged forward, his blade cutting through the night like a divine decree, the air itself splitting apart in its wake.
Ren Zian countered with Soul-Severing Palm, a technique that sent a pulse of Qi through Lin's body, shaking his insides violently. For a moment, he felt his limbs move out of sync with his own will.
But Lin Wuye was not a man easily broken.
He steadied his breath, planted his foot deep into the ground, and pushed forward. His blade hummed with power, the energy around him spiralling into a violent vortex. The earth cracked beneath them, and debris flew as the sheer force of their fight left destruction in its wake.
I am too old for this. Lin thought, his muscles screaming as he moved.
He had spent years in the sect, watching disciples grow, teaching them the very techniques he now wielded. He had fought countless battles, but now, standing against a man whose Qi could disturb the very soul, he realized—
If I hold back, I die. If I fail, the sect dies.
Lin took a deep breath. Then, he stepped forward.
Step Eight: Storm's Judgement.
The world exploded. The ground beneath them cracked further, sending massive chunks of earth skyward. The winds screamed as Lin's Qi surged, his sword glowing with a force that made even Ren Zian's eyes widen.
Ren tried to retreat, but it was too late.
Lin Wuye's blade descended, cutting through everything in its path.
The battlefield trembled as the ground behind Ren Zian was completely obliterated, a deep crater forming where his escape route once stood.
Ren Zian staggered, blood dripping from his mouth, his body barely holding together
But Lin Wuye wasn't done.
His reserves were mid-tier at best, and every inch of his body screamed in protest, but he knew hesitation meant death. He had spent years watching younger, stronger warriors surpass him, but experience was something no talent could replace. And experience told him to end this now.
Lin inhaled deeply, his hands tightening around his blade. One more. Just one more.
Step Nine: Tempest's Ruin.
The very air around him distorted.
A deafening roar filled the battlefield as his Qi erupted, creating a spiralling vortex of wind and destruction. The force was so immense that even those fighting nearby were nearly blown off their feet.
Ren Zian's eyes widened. He had faced countless enemies, but this? It's way above his paygrade.
Ren Zian tried to block, tried to counter—but it was useless.
Lin's blade tore through his defenses, slicing through flesh, through bone, through Qi itself. Ren Zian's body was sent hurtling backward, crashing through debris, the force shattering the already fractured battlefield.
Lin stumbled, his vision darkening.
His breath came in ragged gasps, his body barely able to remain standing. He had opened Step Nine once before against Shen Mu and now he understood why he didn't do it often. His reserves were draining, his muscles screaming in agony, and yet—
He stood because the fight wasn't over yet.
Meyu and the Ryl Trading workers held defensive lines, using unconventional tactics—oil fires, tripwires, and ambushes—to hold their ground.
But they were still outnumbered.
Despite the overwhelming numbers, Meyu tore through the battlefield, beating down Shengong disciples with absurd strength. She was a relentless force, barely winded as she sent enemy after enemy flying with precise, devastating blows.
"Pathetic" she muttered, dodging an incoming strike before slamming her fist into a disciple's gut, folding him in half.
But then, it happened. A palm grazed her shoulder—a direct hit.
For the first time in the battle, Meyu felt it.
The sickening, unnatural sensation of her soul wavering, like it was being yanked from her body. Her vision blurred, nausea clawing at her stomach as a cold sweat formed along her brow. Her strength—her greatest weapon—was meaningless if she lost control of herself.
And suddenly, she understood why the Silver Lotus was losing.
This is why we're losing.
Shengong Leader; Linghu stepped forward. His presence alone sent chills through the battlefield.
Layla's grip on her sword tightened as she assessed him.
This man is dangerous.
Even from this distance, she could feel the sheer weight of his Qi—dense, suffocating, and refined from decades of battle.
Her mind raced. Could me, Jiang, Bao, and father take him together?
She wasn't sure.
Lin Wuye has been pushing his limits. Jiang and Bao were still fighting at the frontlines. And she? She was barely holding herself together after all the battles she had fought tonight.
Even if they all attacked him at once, she had no guarantee they would win.
"End this" he commanded.
His strongest warriors prepared a devastating final attack. Layla, panting, gritted her teeth for the attack
Then—BOOM.
A massive explosion erupted from above, shaking the battlefield. A crater formed where several Shengong warriors once stood.
From the sky, two figures dropped into the fray.
Atlas and Kai.
Kai, panting, wiped his forehead. "We made it—"
Atlas, grinning like the devil himself, had absorbed the explosion.
Layla's eyes widened. "What the hell is he doing—"
Atlas pointed at one of the strongest Shengong warriors, Chong
He smirked.
"BOOM. Bitch"
The stolen explosion erupted, obliterating Chong instantly. A shockwave rippled through the battlefield.
BOOM
The entire war paused to see these brazen idiots.
Atlas rolled his shoulders. "Alright, Meilin Let's clean up this mess."