Chapter 22: Retreat

The Elm Cannon fired a Shrapnel Shell, opening a large gap directly in the army of rats; the young men all felt the pressure ease significantly and were finally able to catch their breath.

The rat army was so frightened by the power of the cannon that they shrank back, and some timid rats even ran away in terror.

"Roar!" The Flying Tiger Demon let out an angry roar, and the tigers supervising the battle struck one after another, their sharp tiger claws tearing the fleeing rats into shreds.

The Rat King knew that retreating was not an option, as retreat also meant death, so it could only order the rat army to continue charging forward.

There were plenty of rats on Jiguan Mountain, as many as one could want; even if all these rats died, the Flying Tiger Demon would not feel a pang of pity, for with the rats' terrifying reproductive ability, as long as there was enough food, they could soon breed an even larger population.

The Flying Tiger Demon intended to use the rats to exhaust the humans' cannons, and it also knew that once a cannon was fired, it would take a long time before it could be fired again.

Now that the humans had fired one shot, as long as it increased the intensity of the attack, the humans would have to continue firing their cannons; once all the cannons had been fired, it would be time for it to lead the other Wild Beasts into the fray.

The battle continued, and more large rats rushed over; Meng Yifan and Meng Dayong were both fighting desperately, each swing of their weapons killing five or six large rats, yet the large rats were like a tide—no sooner was one group beaten back than another large group rushed over, as if they were endless.

One minute later, three more young men were bitten by large rats, and three more gaps appeared in the defensive line; a large number of rats surged in through the gaps, crazily biting the nearby young men.

"Number two Elm Cannon, fire Shrapnel Shell, the injured retreat to the rear," Meng Yifan shouted; he had to keep four Elm Cannons reserved, loaded with Iron Balls.

Because Shrapnel Shells were suitable for crowd killing but had mediocre armor-piercing capabilities, and the Flying Tiger Demon's hide was tough, Shrapnel Shells could not break its defense; only Iron Balls could severely wound the Flying Tiger Demon.

"Boom!" Another Elm Cannon fired, and the Shrapnel Shells, spraying out in a fan shape, once again swept away a large group of large rats.

But before long, a large number of rats pounced up again; fighting until now, out of thirty young men, twelve were already injured and three had died, leaving only half of the young men still intact.

Moreover, the high-intensity combat left them panting and drenched in sweat, and swinging their heavy flails became extremely strenuous; if they kept fighting, all the young men would die here.

"Retreat to the third defensive line," Meng Yifan shouted, and the young men dragged their injured companions back along the pre-planned route.

Meng Yifan and Meng Dayong were both powerful Martial Artists; the two of them covered the retreat, and in order to block all the rats, they both channeled their Manyuujin True Qi, swinging their weapons rapidly and blasting patches of rats to pieces.

Once he confirmed that the villagers had all retreated to the third defensive line, Meng Yifan said, "Dad, you retreat too."

"What kind of logic is it for the son to still be fighting while the father retreats first? Yifan, you retreat first, I'll cover you." Meng Dayong took a step forward, standing in front of Meng Yifan, wanting to block the large rats' attacks for his son.

"Dad, haven't you noticed that I am now a Second Grade Lower Tier Martial Artist? My strength is greater than yours, and I run faster than you, so don't argue with me, hurry up and retreat."

Meng Yifan looked at Meng Dayong's tall back, feeling a warmth in his heart; this "cheap" father was indeed good to him, and although his strength was average, he was sincerely trying to protect him, and that was enough.

Having grown up in an orphanage in his past life, what Meng Yifan craved deep in his heart was this kind of family affection; he never expected that after transposing to this world, he would actually feel father-son affection—Heaven had not treated him poorly and had satisfied this regret of his.

Meng Dayong was stunned after hearing Meng Yifan's words; he had been busy fighting just now and hadn't had the chance to check his son's cultivation, but now that he looked closely, he discovered that Meng Yifan's True Qi was thick and powerful, there was the sound of wind and thunder when he swung his weapon, and his skin even showed a slight bronze hue—this was the mark of a Second Grade Quenching Skin Realm Martial Artist.

"Damn, Yifan, when did you break through to a Second Grade Martial Artist?"

Meng Yifan was still an ordinary person without True Qi yesterday, so how did he become a Second Grade Martial Artist after just one day? How did he cultivate? This speed was too fast, wasn't it?

Meng Dayong had been stuck at the bottleneck of a First Grade Martial Artist, but without a Breakthrough Pill, he could only rely on his own cultivation, grinding away bit by bit; he had spent a full eight years grinding and still hadn't broken through the bottleneck, so how did Meng Yifan break through in such a short time? Did he not have a bottleneck?

Meng Dayong was completely baffled, looking at Meng Yifan as if he were looking at a monster.

Meng Dayong was both pleasantly surprised and somewhat ashamed, feeling that his thirty-five years of life had been lived in vain, having been surpassed by his ten-year-old son.

"If the father's strength isn't even as good as the son's, doesn't that mean if Meng Yifan makes a mistake in the future, I won't even be able to beat him?" Thinking of this, Meng Dayong shook his head and muttered, "Even if this little brat cultivates to a Martial Saint, he's still my son; if I need to hit him, I'll still hit him—does he dare to resist?"

"Dad, you retreat first, I'll explain it to you later." Meng Yifan swung his long spear with all his might, sweeping back and forth continuously, and the rats within a two-meter radius were all sent flying one by one.

Meng Dayong no longer insisted on covering the retreat; he looked at Meng Yifan with a complex expression, then ran toward the rear.

After Meng Dayong retreated, Meng Yifan persisted for a while longer, then also retreated; seeing the humans trying to run, the Flying Tiger Demon let out an angry roar and urged the rat tide to charge, while the other Wild Beast army followed behind the rat tide, rushing forward.

But the rat tide hadn't charged very far when pits appeared one after another on the road ahead; over a hundred large rats fell directly into the pits and were pierced through the body by the iron spears set up inside, and the leopards, Big Dog Bears, and tigers behind them hurriedly stopped in their tracks.

With the pits in front and many large rats wailing inside, all the beasts stopped and slowly probed for a safe path forward.

The humans who had fled just now had all passed through this area safely, which meant they must have left a safe passage.

"Roar!" The Flying Tiger Demon let out an angry roar; these humans were truly too despicable and shameless—how could they dig mechanisms and traps everywhere in a perfectly good village?

Before the beasts could find the safe passage, a loud "Boom!" suddenly came from underground.

Five ceramic jars filled with Black Powder and iron shards were detonated simultaneously by Meng Yifan.

In an instant, the earth shook and the mountains swayed, fire splashed everywhere like a volcanic eruption, and dense iron shards and ceramic fragments flew out, almost enveloping all the beasts.

"Puchi! Puchi!" The sharp iron shards were like small, rapidly spinning knives, flying toward the beasts.