Chapter 430: Entering the Strange Domain

—The blood-flesh war hammer came crashing down.

It wasn't a simple "smash" in the ordinary sense.

The air over the entire Square was sucked out in an instant, Lu Yu's eardrums went deaf, every surrounding sound was cut off, leaving only the muffled thump of his heart within his chest.

The red mist burst apart.

The ground collapsed a step before the massive hammer could touch it; the yellow lines, bricks, and remnants of the flowerbed were pulverized into dust and sprayed outward.

At the center of the Square, with a blood-flesh totem as the focal point, the ground within a radius of a dozen meters sank as a single depression, and the cement beneath Lu Yu cracked into a spiderweb of fissures that stretched back to his heels.

There was no way out.

Red mist vortices churned on the right; the viewing platform behind had collapsed into a heap of debris.

Directly above, a blood-flesh war hammer sewn together from dozens of human arms blocked the sky, its hanging student clothing and shattered bones rattling in the airflow.

What it carried wasn't weight.

It was Rules.

Space itself warped visibly beneath the hammer; light was bent, the view twisted into a fisheye‑like curve, and even breathing became viscous.

Countless plans flashed through Lu Yu's mind.

Roll? The force field's coverage is too broad; everything within a three‑meter radius is a dead zone.

Block? The broken Reinforced Steel Bar in his hand can barely cut the distorted mass; using it to block a Rules‑level attack is no different from using a toothpick to stop a train.

Counterattack?

Don't be funny.

Tactics are meaningless against absolute force. Positioning, blind spots—everything is just talk on paper in front of this dimension‑crushing thing.

The blood-flesh war hammer was already three meters above his head.

Two meters.

One meter.

Lu Yu moved.

He didn't charge forward, nor roll to the side.

He turned and yanked Chen Yao into his arms.

The motion was so fast Chen Yao had no moment to react; the strap of her backpack dug into Lu Yu's palm, tearing open an old wound at the base of his hand, and warm fluid smeared onto Chen Yao's nape.

Lu Yu arched his back.

He used his back to meet the blood-flesh war hammer capable of erasing space.

He made no shout, no roar, not even a blink of his eyes.

He simply lowered his head, his chin pressed against Chen Yao's crown, his voice as light as if muttering to himself.

"Hold still."

Just two words.

Chen Yao was pressed against his chest, her face against the area below his collarbone, feeling clearly the tremor of his thorax from inside out.

It wasn't fear.

It was his muscles instinctively tightening in preparation for impact.

She lifted her head.

She saw that face.

So close that the curve of the eyelashes was crystal clear.

A face covered in dust and dried blood, lips clenched, a slash on the cheekbone still oozing blood.

But the eyes were bright.

Not the blinding heroism, no grand speeches nor martyrdom.

Just bright.

Like the faint yet stubborn light that appears in someone's eyes when they are doing something they feel they must.

Chen Yao's pupils snapped shut.

That arched back, that posture that enveloped her entirely with his body—

Something deep in his memory was shattered.

Images surged up.

Long ago—so long that she hadn't yet been called Chen Yao, when she curled trembling in a loft corner.

Someone else was the same.

They used their back to block everything that fell.

Fists. Bottles. Belt buckles.

That person's back was beaten raw, blood streaming down through the seams, yet they made no sound, only tightening their hold on her.

"Don't be afraid."

"Brother's here."

Chen Yao's eyes burned.

It wasn't a disguise. Not a performance.

It was the ice shell she had spent over a decade building, watertight, that cracked in this instant.

She opened her mouth.

Her throat couldn't form a complete syllable.

The blood-flesh war hammer above was close enough to see the grain of each fused finger bone.

The force field pressed both of them toward the ground.

Outside the Domain Membrane.

Su Ming's glove shattered completely.

The gray‑white arm of No. 31 was back‑rebounded and chewed off half; the closed eyelids flailed wildly, and Gray Mist spewed from the severed stump. The wound healed at a visibly rapid rate.

"No. 31 projection decayed to 17%," the civilian investigator's voice cut in. "In another forty seconds, the wound will close completely!"

Su Ming's hand was bleeding.

It wasn't the slow oozing kind. The vessels were torn open by the Rules' backlash, blood gushed out between the fingers, dripped onto the console, and was vaporized into white smoke by the high temperature.

He pressed his palm against the panel, his palm print seared onto the metal.

"Main cannon full open."

"Su Team, 100% output will trigger—"

"I said full open."

The humming of eighteen plasma main cannons rose to a piercing pitch; the blue‑white beam surged from 55% to its peak, flooding the contracting fissure.

The Domain Membrane quivered violently. The wound was held open, but only barely.

Not enough.

Far from enough.

Su Ming turned his head toward his side.

Chen Shao stood where he was.

He did not move.

But the Demon Eye in his left eye was no longer a normal scarlet.

The sclera was so deep scarlet it turned black, like a bottomless well of blood. Something dripped from the corner of Chen Shao's left eye. It wasn't tears. It was blood. Viscous dark blood slid down his cheekbone to his jaw, dripping onto his coat collar.

Chen Shao's expression never changed from start to finish.

But Su Ming saw the metacarpal of his right hand.

The force of his five fingers closing together burst all the seams of the leather glove.

The next second—

The psychokinetic field is not "released" outward.

It is blasted out with every ounce of force.

The Dominion Power in Chen Shao's left eye condensed into a tangible transparent blade, shooting straight from the center of his pupil, piercing thirty meters and slamming into the Domain Membrane fissure.

The blade made no sound.

Yet everyone heard the sound of space being pierced—like ice cracking from the middle, or fabric being ripped apart by brute force.

The fissure exploded open.

The edges of the Domain Membrane on both sides were cleaved in two by the psychokinetic blade, and the opening widened from a person's width to three, five, then eight meters within a fraction of a second—

The blue‑white torrent from the plasma main cannon poured through the gap, illuminating the dark‑red sky within the Domain Membrane.

Xu An's Red Wood Ruler was planted on the ground, and the Correction Place grid covered the entire edge of the gap, forcibly suppressing all the back‑rebounded red mist.

The Eden Garden's Enigmatic Operatives struck simultaneously. Green‑skin lanterns, Shadow long spikes, writhing black lines— all forces slammed toward the same coordinate.

The Federation artillery group's firepower went full on.

The two forces merged into a torrent, tearing the fissure into a door.

Chen Shao lifted his foot.

No hesitation. No looking back. No words of explanation.

He stepped into that deep crimson.

The hem of his coat was lifted by the Weird Domain's airflow, the black fabric billowing in the dark‑red light. On his blood‑soaked left eye, there was only one expression from start to finish.

Su Ming saw that expression clearly.

It was not anger. It was not anxiety.

It was something more terrifying than murderous intent.

It was the meaning of "Whoever touches my sister, I will annihilate their whole clan," etched into his bones.

Xu An lifted the ruler, followed closely, stepped barefoot into the fissure, and the gray‑defeated grid spread inward into the Weird Domain with his steps.

Su Ming turned his head and glanced at the adjutant.

The adjutant was already moving.

"Federation action group, follow me in!"

Su Ming clenched the still‑bleeding hand, rose from the console, and drew the standard sidearm at his waist.

From the far side of the fissure, a tide‑like breath surged out, carrying a strong scent of blood and the distorted echo of the Rules.