Chapter 71: Daoist Priest

(PS: There’s another update today)

“Roar!”

A firewing bird over three meters long emerged from the light sphere.

It flew swiftly toward the upper floors of the building.

Crack!

Windows shattered, concrete walls exploded.

The firewing bird’s neck stretched into the room.

Its crimson eyes swept rapidly across the humans inside.

Like a hunter selecting prey.

“Ah!”

Someone could no longer bear the pressure and immediately bolted for the exit.

The beautiful, elegant birdhead brought no joy—only endless terror.

The others snapped to attention and followed right behind.

Some even shoved aside those beside them without hesitation to gain an advantage.

But all of it was meaningless struggle.

Boom!

The firewing bird opened its mouth, and a flame over thirty meters long surged forth.

It turned the fleeing crowd into a row of charred corpses.

This was the only action the firewing bird could perform.

Due to the hardness of reinforced concrete, even as the walls deformed,

the firewing bird’s massive body still could not squeeze inside.

It was stuck before the window, unable to move.

Inside the room, survivors remained—some too slow to escape,

others bold and observant, noticing the firewing bird’s condition at once.

One of the bold ones grabbed a stool and hurled it at the firewing bird.

He didn’t expect to kill it—that was unrealistic.

But given the bird’s weight, the firewing bird must be light.

If he struck at the right angle, he could knock it off the building.

Then he could escape while the chance lasted.

Shhh!

The beak pierced the air, and in an instant, the man’s head shattered like a watermelon.

Brain matter splattered across the floor.

The man had imagined too optimistically—a firewing bird over three meters long was already a Tier One creature.

Its reaction speed was under fifty milliseconds; no mere Level 1 human could possibly counter it.

Unable to fight, unable to flee, the remaining survivors sank into deep despair.

“Don’t be afraid, sweetie, Mommy’s here with you.” A mother hugged a young boy, crouched in the corner.

Her face was filled with helplessness and fear, yet her eyes toward the boy brimmed with tenderness.

“Mm!”

The boy was only four or five—he didn’t yet fully understand life and death.

But he sensed the adults’ panic, and fear filled his heart.

Only nestled in his mother’s arms could he feel a moment of warmth.

Crack!

The firewing bird wrenched itself free from the jammed window and slammed forward again.

Thud!

The wall shattered, and at last the firewing bird’s towering body squeezed inside.

It spread its wings, spanning seven meters.

It filled the entire room.

Flame energy flowed along its wings, and the instant it touched the survivors,

it ignited them alive.

At first there were screams, but as their throats burned away,

only the crackling of flames and the thumping of charred bodies remained.

The firewing birds paid no mind—they were filled with joy.

Waves of mysterious power surged into their bloodlines, strengthening their bodies.

The firewing bird could already feel it would soon undergo another transformation.

Evolving to a higher level!

Shhh!

A black ray shot through the burned doorway and struck the firewing bird directly.

Aaah~

The firewing bird let out a cry, but this time it was weak, like the buzz of a fly.

Its muscles ached with exhaustion; its mind grew foggy, its eyes heavy, longing to fall asleep.

The firewing bird knew this was unnatural, yet it could not overcome its body’s instincts.

Though its senses screamed warnings, its limbs felt as heavy as a thousand catties.

It trembled with dread, wanting to unleash a flame blast.

It was filled with dread, wanting to unleash a flame breath.

With a whistling sound, a longsword materialized out of thin air.

It plunged deep into the firewing bird’s eye socket and pierced its brain.

Blood seeped from the bird’s nostrils and mouth; its whole body convulsed spasmodically.

This was the last flicker of its brain trying to revive itself.

But it was futile—the firewing bird soon slipped into final death.

At the same time, Professor Wang, dressed in casual clothes, revealed himself.

He had done all of this—the initial black ray had been the Exhaustion Ray.

It was a third-circle spell: if the target failed a Fortitude save,

it entered the Exhausted state, with Strength and Dexterity reduced by 6 points.

Even if it passed, it entered the Fatigued state, with Strength and Dexterity reduced by 3 points.

This spell ensured consistent combat debuffs, even on successful saves.

Then, having cast Stepping Off the Ground on himself, Professor Wang slipped in stealthily.

With a longsword in hand, he successfully assassinated the firewing bird.

This is what a Daoist Priest is—capable of astonishing results even against overwhelming power.

Those who only mindlessly blast spells at each other are mere brutes.

Brutes with spellcasting ability.

When their spell slots are spent, these brutes are nothing but fish on a chopping block.

They cannot compare to a Daoist Priest who uses wisdom, combines spells intelligently, and maximizes effective damage.

Had Professor Wang’s physical skills been flawless,

he could have killed the firewing bird without wasting a second spell slot.

“Is anyone still alive?”

Professor Wang called out. No one answered.

The charred remains spoke silently.

Especially in the corner—the sunken, blackened, stick-like eye sockets pierced his heart.

A pair of withered arms clutched the owner of those sockets—her final defiance.

Professor Wang’s face was expressionless; his rational mind had already predicted such a tragedy.

With his highly developed brain, he could even estimate tonight’s casualties by counting the light spheres in the sky.

But numbers are just numbers—they lack the impact of what lies before him.

Professor Wang’s hand gripping the sword trembled slightly, then hardened into firm resolve.

He knew such scenes would come again—many, many times tonight.

And his task was to reduce those numbers as much as possible.

He knew such scenes would occur many, many more times tonight.

At this moment, across the Blue Star, every place was as bright as daytime.

As if night had vanished entirely.

At this moment, Lanxing was as bright as day everywhere.

As if there were no night.

But in reality, night still falls.

There are no more time zones now; day and night move as one.

After the screen appeared, time on Blue Star was unified.

Wherever you are, the sun rises and sets together.

Like a world where heaven is round and earth is square.

On a wide road, Fang Shi was fighting three Firefeatherers.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The Firefeatherers launched three consecutive flame explosions, but Fang Shi dodged them effortlessly.

He was sprinting toward his enemies at twenty-five to twenty-six meters per second.

His form was fluid; no obstacle could block him.

The Firefeatherers did not flinch and swung their curved greatswords at Fang Shi in advance.

Shhh! Shhh! Shhh!

Three blood holes appeared on the heads of the three Firefeatherers.

They stared wide-eyed, as if unable to believe what was happening.

Their curved greatswords were mere inches away from Fang Shi.

Especially those three curved greatswords, which could have crushed him in a pincer strike.

But that inch would never come.

“You’re far too slow.”

Fang Shi shook his head and continued on his way.

His current neural reaction speed equaled that of an ordinary person with 37 Agility.

This meant he could react to an object moving at the speed of sound.

By the time he reacted, the object had moved barely over a meter.

Not to mention the Firefeatherers, whose attack speed didn’t even reach the speed of sound.

To Fang Shi, their speed was slower than a turtle’s.

Combined with his considerable strength and physique, he cut them down one by one.

“I was careless. I should’ve just left immediately instead of greedily chasing that little spiritual energy.”

“But who could’ve predicted a third impact would occur?”

Fang Shi felt a small pang of regret.

If it were still the second impact, as before his rebirth,

Alien beings would emerge from spatial channels.

This distribution created randomness.

Where monsters were abundant or scarce depended entirely on luck.

But now, the system was completely different.

Wherever there were more people, monsters were precisely deployed.

Sweeping away humans who had hidden themselves.

Fang Shi was among the lone wanderers, so few monsters surrounded him.

He ran far and saw only a few—nowhere near enough to satisfy his experience needs.

But it wouldn’t be long. With his speed, while maintaining combat readiness,

He could reach the riverbank in just thirty minutes.