Chapter 96

A night passed quietly.

During that time, numerous drones had surged out under cover of darkness, seeking to pinpoint the coordinates of the array setup—but these drones had barely taken flight before being obliterated by over a dozen aerial grenades.

Dao soldiers cannot move stealthily.

If Li Tie could use invisibility or concealment techniques to evade spiritual sense, he might have succeeded—but no sign of him appeared, nor any artillery fire; clearly, he couldn’t.

After all, even with a dual elemental affinity, reaching Qi Refining eighth layer at sixteen years old must have consumed immense effort and resources—he couldn’t possibly scatter his attention everywhere.

At dawn, under the expectant gazes of all, Hua Bing pressed his hand against the first-tier electromagnetic induction array and slowly channeled his magic power into it.

Hum!

The array trembled faintly, glowing with a hazy white light, sending out invisible waves in all directions, covering a radius of one kilometer.

Within this range, a vast array of chaotic electromagnetic waves were swept clean, leaving only the radar waves generated by the tank-mounted first-tier infantry spirit-substance radar combined with spellcraft—now operating with dramatically enhanced range and precision in the unobstructed environment.

“It worked!”

The crowd rejoiced, quickly embedding over twenty low-grade spirit stones into the array positions, freeing the pale-faced Hua Bing.

“Get on board!”

Hua Bing, brimming with confidence, looked like a demolition fanatic: “Let’s bomb together—crush Seventh High’s turtle shell into dust!”

“Good!”

Over forty Qi Refining students boarded the tanks, activating their spirit-substance radars; clearer radar waves were projected toward Seventh High’s fortress camp, and the reflected signals, processed by spellcraft, appeared as simplified terrain maps in their tactical helmets.

Boom!

Boom! Boom!

The gun muzzles of over forty tanks erupted in flame, launching shells that soared into the distance trailing white smoke.

“Classmates, the drones may now ascend and proceed.”

Hua Bing announced in the group chat.

Jiang Ding activated his thoughts, commanding his assigned drone to rise into the sky; fifteen to sixteen minutes later, it arrived safely at Seventh High’s fortress camp, with no anti-air fire to stop it.

The place had become a sea of fire!

Continuous explosions hurled earth and stone into the air, scattering countless shrapnel; deep craters opened up across the camp’s fortifications.

More terrifying was the extended interference range of Hua Bing’s shells, amplified by the first-tier electromagnetic induction wave array—during flight, the shells could still make micro-adjustments, now precisely guided into the shooting holes deliberately left by Seventh High students, piercing straight through.

Boom!

A deafening explosion tore through the camp’s fortification from within; tank hatches and countless suspicious red-and-white substances were flung in all directions, landing mixed together, indistinguishable.

Not just Hua Bing—Ding Qi and Gong Sun Ling from Class Two and Three also possessed this ability, relentlessly precision-bombing Seventh High’s camp, turning it into a wasteland of ruins.

And once Seventh High’s firepower was largely destroyed, Wu Tianli and several others drove their tanks forward over thirty kilometers, still able to perform shell interference from over ten kilometers away—Jiang Ding could no longer bear to watch.

Poor Seventh High students.

Long after, even sporadic artillery fire ceased; everyone’s ammunition reserves had dropped below the ten percent warning threshold.

Jiang Ding observed through the drone.

The smoke cleared; the hundred-meter hill that once housed Seventh High’s camp had been flattened by dozens of meters, its surface pockmarked with dense, deep craters—no greenery remained, entirely buried under loose soil.

“Advance!”

“Clear the last enemies—end this exam.”

Hua Bing waved, maintaining basic caution, refusing to leave the tanks for hand-to-hand combat.

Jiang Ding arrived several hours later.

His nostrils filled with the acrid stench of smoke; the hill’s surface soil had been replaced layer upon layer—virtually no living thing remained; the only possible refuge lay within the mountain itself—tunnels.

Qian Tong and the other forty-three Yun Sect cultivators cast looks of awe at the devastated hill, then led the ascent to search; the other First High heavy machine gunners remained behind, ready to provide fire support.

“Immortal Envoy, we’ve found seven tunnel entrances!”

Soon, Qian Tong returned: “The entrances run deep—they must have started digging tunnels the moment they arrived. The number of survivors may exceed our estimates.”

Jiang Ding frowned.

Attacking such tunnels isn’t easy—often, a single heavy machine gun placed in a narrow passage can hold off more than ten late-stage Qi Refining cultivators.

“They’ve had barely a day and a half—I refuse to believe they’ve turned this into an underground labyrinth!”

“Not everyone can use Earth Submergence Technique.”

Jiang Ding smiled, conferred briefly with Li Junhao and several others, then dispatched a drone to fly into one tunnel entrance; each screen in their tactical helmets displayed the feed.

Boom!

A flash of fire—then the drone’s feed went pitch black.

Jiang Ding didn’t hesitate; he sent more drones through other tunnel entrances, indifferent to the loss of over a dozen.

“They’re hiding well.”

Jiang Ding raised his hand, slicing through a large tree, carving a wooden plank into a makeshift board, then using his inner strength to sketch and write upon it.

Qian Tong’s spiritual sense glanced at it—he saw many disconnected lines; one curved path vaguely resembled the tunnel he had discovered.

“Senior Qian, could you dig a hole about fifteen meters deep right here?”

He pointed to a rock on the hill.

“Yes, Immortal Envoy.”

Qian Tong replied respectfully: “If my squad and Zhou Shixiong’s squad act together, we can breach it in three breaths—but we’ll each expend about ten percent of our magic power.”

If magic power is drained too much, facing the cultivators inside would be too dangerous.

“No need to worry—we’ll take turns. I won’t let you exhaust yourselves.”

Jiang Ding assured them.

“We obey the Immortal Envoy’s command.”

Qian Tong bowed in thanks, conferred briefly with another late-stage Qi Refining squad leader, then both squads moved to the rock Jiang Ding had indicated, murmuring incantations and weaving complex hand seals—golden-yellow spiritual light rose.

Li Junhao watched curiously; Daoist sect cultivators rarely performed joint spells so closely.

“Earth Splitting Technique!”

Qian Tong roared, pointing his seal downward; his subordinates followed suit. A golden-yellow light swept downward, and the earth and stone melted like snow, parting to either side until stopping at roughly ten meters.

He wiped sweat aside, clearing the path—immediately, the other squad activated a similar spell, splitting the final five meters of earth and stone.

Five Seventh High warriors, tense and watching the tunnel entrance, froze in shock, staring in disbelief as light flooded their faces—and Li Junhao’s grinning face.

Shhh!

Instinctively, Qian Tong and the others launched their flying swords—swiftly severing the heads of the five.

“Clear this area.”

Under Jiang Ding’s order, Qian Tong and four other Yun Sect squad leaders used their eighty-meter spiritual sense to guide their flying swords into the exposed tunnel entrance; soon, several screams echoed—clearly, Seventh High students hiding nearby had resisted.

Shortly after, the area was cleared—over ten casualties.

“Next location.”