Chapter 56: Chapter Fifty‑Five: Severe Injury (3)

The cyan-white flame contracted inward, the high temperature that vaporized twenty-one Chonglou Realm experts was actually confined entirely within a space several hundred meters in size, without leaking even a trace of heat.

Old Iron, his whole body a deathly pale, was engulfed in flames; firelight flowed over his smooth, mirror-like surface. With a human head and dog's body, he resembled a demon king from hell, continually emitting a ferocious, triumphant laugh.

In the dome, the Mist Blade Chief Steward struggled to pull his upper body out.

He grabbed a stalactite with one hand, tilted his body, and looked downward. In the cyan-white blaze, twenty-one vague human-shaped traces were clearly visible on the ground.

The instant high temperature vaporized twenty-one human bodies, leaving these traces on the stone floor.

The flames writhed, and these human-shaped traces swayed left and right like snake shadows, ferocious yet revealing endless terror.

"Ancient… marvel." the Mist Blade Chief Steward muttered, his voice tinged with bone‑chilling cold and an inexplicable fear.

Wu Tie rolled across the ground for a distance, barely stabilizing his stance. He then sprang up, gripping his spear with his left hand, and swept a huge circle beside him.

No one attacked.

All the Mist Blade assassins and their servant warriors remained rooted in place.

Twenty‑one Chonglou Realm Mist Blade elites were vaporized in an instant, including more than four stewards who simply vanished.

This dealt a massive psychological blow to the Mist Blade affiliates; they stared blankly at Old Iron, who laughed like a demon god amid the flames, and for a moment no one dared to attack Wu Tie.

Wu Tie panted, his left forearm scorched, flesh seeming to burn. He gritted his teeth against the pain and hurried toward Old Iron.

Old Iron stepped out of the flames one step at a time, accompanied by a low laugh, and he and Wu Tie successfully joined forces.

The humanoid arms on his back slowly retracted into his body. Old Iron lifted his head to gaze at the Mist Blade Chief Steward hanging upside‑down from the dome and said in a deep voice, "We have already left… why must we exterminate every last one?"

Shaking his head, Old Iron let out a heavy sigh: "Although these words hurt, I must tell you… you Chonglou Realm trash, with your pitiful strength, were nothing but cannon fodder years ago… cannon fodder!"

Cocking his head, he gave a sideways glance at the dumbstruck Mist Blade assassins and spat on the ground: "Top‑grade scum not even worthy of being cannon fodder. Who gave you the gloat to come rushing to your deaths?"

After a few laughs, Old Iron led Wu Tie, walking unhurriedly toward the nearest passage entrance.

Outside that passage entrance stood a group of Mist Blade affiliates, a troop of fully armed ox‑tribe and wolf‑tribe warriors.

Seeing Old Iron and Wu Tie steadily approaching, the elite warriors of the Mist Blade affiliates each showed fear and instinctively retreated to the sides.

The Mist Blade Chief Steward gazed at Old Iron with a grim expression.

Seeing the two were about to reach the passage entrance, the Chief Steward said in a low voice, "I see thirty‑six red points in your arm… you just used twelve of them?"

Old Iron halted, lifted his head, and gave a disdainful cold laugh: "You want to try? Go ahead…"

The Mist Blade Chief Steward fell silent.

Old Iron stood motionless on the spot, his eyes glowing with a chilling Blood Light as he coldly stared at his opponent.

The field fell silent, save for Wu Tie's left arm trembling slightly; the fingers re‑covering the hand guard shook and struck the spear shaft, producing a faint 'ding‑ding' sound.

The metallic essence of the three straight blades was being absorbed into his arm bones; the pain of the metal merging with flesh was unimaginable to ordinary people—each point of metal fusing with bone felt like being sliced by a thousand blades while simultaneously being scorched in a steel furnace.

Wu Tie endured as best he could, but could not stop his arm's natural reflexive trembling.

In the eyes of the Mist Blade affiliates, this youngster was clearly afraid.

Why would he be afraid?

Old Iron had already displayed such terrifying lethality; twenty‑one Mist Blade elites had just vanished outright.

With such formidable killing power, why would Wu Tie still be afraid?

The three Mist Blade elites who had just swung their blades at Wu Tie brightened, instinctively shifting their bodies and sending three gusts of wind toward Wu Tie and Old Iron.

The Mist Blade Chief Steward, hanging upside‑down from the dome, also noticed Wu Tie's incessantly trembling left arm.

He and the three subordinates below made the same judgment.

Wu Tie is afraid, and perhaps the reason is that he knows the true combat power of Old Iron's ancient marvel?

Or perhaps they can no longer unleash that terrifying attack they just used—the cyan‑white flame that seems able to incinerate everything.

The flames gradually faded; the ground where Old Iron had stood was burned into a depression one meter deep, a one‑meter‑thick layer of rock was completely incinerated, and the twenty‑one human silhouettes left on the rock face also disappeared.

Three Mist Blade elites rushed forward, letting out low, deep howls; from several tens of meters away they waved their hands rapidly, and instantly, amid piercing whistles, dozens of Breaking Origin Blood Blades spun wildly, scattering like tiny blood moons toward Wu Tie and Old Iron.

The Breaking Origin Blood Blade—this divine ability's destructive power is enough to pierce Wu Tie's armor.

Wu Tie dared not delay; he hastily swung his right arm, using his right hand's White Tiger Arm Guard to block those blood moons.

Old Iron took a lateral step, using his massive body to shield Wu Tie from the Breaking Origin Blood Blades. Streaks of blood‑colored light rained down densely, striking his body with a piercing cutting sound and exploding into countless blood‑colored specks.

Old Iron's body remained unmoved, and no mark appeared on him.

The Breaking Origin Blood Blades of the three Mist Blade elites posed no threat whatsoever to him.

Wu Tie's left hand continued to tremble violently; the skin below his elbow was scorched to a char by the high heat—were it not for the sealed armor encasing it, the smell of roasted meat would surely have drifted far away.

Bearing the intense pain, Wu Tie gritted his teeth; his fingers trembled violently, continually striking the spear shaft.

The Breaking Origin Blood Blades striking Old Iron emitted a sharp 'ge‑ge' cutting sound, while Wu Tie's fingers hitting the spear shaft produced a crisp 'ding‑ding'.

The three Blood Blade masters unleashed nearly a hundred Breaking Origin Blood Blades in one breath, then finally ceased, gasping heavily, with a visible plume of white vapor rising above their heads.

Whether divine abilities or secret arts, they are all extremely draining.

Almost a hundred Breaking Origin Blood Blades—that is the limit of the three Blood Blade masters.

Old Iron shook his body with ease, lifted his head to the Mist Blade Chief Steward, and said, "All done? Then we're leaving… look after that plot of land for us, don't cause mischief there… that's my grandfather's… place of sorrow, a place of remembrance!"

Old Iron turned around, taking Wu Tie with him, and continued toward the nearest passage entrance.

Three hundred meters, two hundred meters, one hundred meters… fifty meters… twenty meters…

The Mist Blade Chief Steward hanging from the dome finally exhaled a deep breath: "If you just leave like this… what face does my Mist Blade have left?"

"An ancient marvel… impressive? Although you look impressive…"

The Mist Blade Chief Steward gave a cold laugh, flicked his right hand, and two black iron balls the size of human heads shot out, hurtling heavily toward Old Iron and Wu Tie.

Pitch‑black iron balls, their surfaces covered with a chaotic crisscross of blood‑red patterns.

At first glance, those blood‑red lines clearly form a huge blood‑colored eyeball, especially with a tiny hole at the pupil's center, from which a faint Blood Light wells up.

Wu Tie had no idea what these were; he gazed curiously at the two iron balls.

Old Iron, meanwhile, let out a loud roar: "Ha, your luck isn't bad!"

While speaking, Lao Tie raised a foreclaw and, with one swipe, sent Wu Tie flying, headfirst into the passage entrance.

The Mist Blade Chief Steward laughed…

His laugh was like an ice blade forged from cold ice, piercingly cold, stabbing into everyone's ears; all the Mist Blade members shivered, awakening from the psychological shock caused by the inferno of flames Lao Tie had just released.

"Kill!" the Mist Blade Chief Steward barked coldly: "An ancient marvel, after all, still requires an ancient marvel to deal with it."

His body suddenly turned semi-transparent, then melted into the air.

The next moment, the Mist Blade Chief Steward spanned over a thousand meters, appearing out of thin air before Wu Tie, and swung a blade down at him head-on.

Wu Tie instinctively raised his left hand; the guard on his palm receded like flowing water, revealing his palm split open and flesh torn, bones exposed everywhere. In the cracked wound on his palm, a dim, dark firelight flickered faintly, and a pungent burnt smell filled the air.

That smell was like a terrible cook making braised pork, ending up with a pot of exuding charcoal.

The Mist Blade Chief Steward snorted coldly; the blade light like a silk strip, with a hint of blood-red, continued to slash down.

As the blade light fell, vast black mist coiled behind the Mist Blade Chief Steward, faintly revealing a non-human demon god with a ferocious face and knotted muscles standing heaven-high, each hand holding a mountain and dancing vigorously.

In that demon god's hands, the mountains were like pebbles, occasionally tossed up high… very high.

Great Strength God magic… this is the Mist Blade Chief Steward's divine ability.

This strike was the Mist Blade Chief Steward's full-force blow; even if Wu Tie had not removed his palm guard, even if he wore full armor, the Chief Steward was confident he could cleave Wu Tie in two with a single strike.

Because he is Mist Blade, any casual slash he makes carries power comparable to the full-force Blood Origin Blade of an ordinary Mist Blade Chief Steward.

The blade light flashed like lightning, heavily striking Wu Tie's palm.

The lingering bits of flesh and blood on Wu Tie's palm exploded, revealing the dark, metallic-toned phalanges. His phalanges vibrated violently, especially the first phalanx of his left index finger, which trembled at an extremely high frequency.

"Ding!"

A long, resonant impact sound rang out; the straight blade in the Mist Blade Chief Steward's hand was nicked by Wu Tie's fingertip, a gap the size of a thumb.

The shattered blade fragments exploded, and near the nick the blade was covered in a dense web of cracks like spider silk.

Wu Tie pointed his left index finger forward, and another piercing "ding" sounded.

The Mist Blade Chief Steward's straight blade shattered, just like the straight blades held by the three Mist Blade senior officials, and like the straight blade held by the Ninth Steward of Mist Blade that day, bursting into countless tiny fragments.

Vast streams of invisible fine light spewed from the straight blade, like fireflies finding their nest, whistling into the first phalanx of Wu Tie's left index finger. A flame over a foot high ignited on his palm, the dark flame emitting terrifying heat.

The Mist Blade Chief Steward's gaunt face twisted; he widened his eyes, incredulously gazing at his shattered sidearm.

This straight blade was not only his sidearm, but also the symbol of power for the entire Mist Blade assassin organization.

To the Mist Blade organization, this blade was comparable to a state's heirloom jade seal.

The Mist Blade Chief Steward's throat convulsed violently; he spat out a mouthful of blood with a "wah", staring straight at the fragments of the shattered straight blade, and for a moment he froze completely.

Wu Tie's vision blackened from pain; large swaths of flesh on his palm were burnt to a mush, his phalanges, metacarpals, and forearm bones feeling as if they were melting in agony.

He howled, his blazing left palm slamming into the Mist Blade Chief Steward's chest.

The Mist Blade Chief Steward's chest garments were burnt to rags, exposing large patches of flesh. Wu Tie's palm, like a red-hot branding iron, seared the flesh with a sizzling sound, causing the Chief Steward to hoarsely bellow in pain.

Amidst the "whooshing" sound, the Mist Blade Chief Steward raised both palms.

His palms were like blades, and also like a great axe gripped tightly by a demonic heavenly god, fiercely chopping forward and backward into Wu Tie's chest.

In the mist behind the Mist Blade Chief Steward, the ferocious demon god roared skyward; Wu Tie's chest armor thundered, streams of light flickering rapidly, as the armor visibly dented and its surface cracked profusely.

This armor was merely made from materials stored by Da Tie in the ancient divine armory, a crudely manufactured non-standard armor.

To an ordinary Mist Blade assassin, this armor could be called indestructible; but to a master like the Mist Blade Chief Steward, it was nothing more than slightly tougher iron skin.

Terrifying force struck, blasting Wu Tie's chest flesh into layer after layer of fragments.

Wu Tie let out a hoarse, long howl; not knowing where the sudden inspiration came from, he fiercely swung his right hand, and from the White Tiger Fracture-formed White Tiger armguard, a "swish" ejected a White Tiger Fracture spearhead two feet four inches long.

The spearhead, shaped like a short dagger, flew fast, with an extremely fine tearing sound, slicing toward the Mist Blade Chief Steward's chest.

The Mist Blade Chief Steward disregarded the oncoming horizontal White Tiger Fracture, and he forcefully added power to both palms, hoping to strike Wu Tie dead with a single blow.

Palm-wide and over two feet long, the White Tiger Fracture swept across.

The Mist Blade Chief Steward howled; in the mist behind him, the phantom of the Great Strength God roared and leapt, and a thick layer of black scales suddenly sprouted on his arms.

This is an additional attribute of the Great Strength God magic; the black scales greatly enhance the Mist Blade Chief Steward's physical defense.

Even a peer of the Mist Blade Chief Steward wielding a sharp weapon would find this layer of black scales hard to breach.

The White Tiger Fracture swept past lightly; with a faint "pfft", the Mist Blade Chief Steward's left arm was severed cleanly at the elbow.

Intense pain surged; the Mist Blade Chief Steward looked at Wu Tie in horrified dread, his right hand unable to continue blasting Wu Tie, his whole body leaving an afterimage as he stirred up a great gale and retreated at full speed.

The White Tiger Fracture swept across the Mist Blade Chief Steward's chest, bringing up a great spray of blood; at least seven or eight of his ribs were broken by the sweep.

The Mist Blade Chief Steward let out a howl, spewing a beam of Blood Light from his mouth that fiercely pierced Wu Tie's right chest.