Zhao Yun and the jagged skeleton had already fought for several rounds without a clear victor.
“Truly a dog’s mouth meeting a turtle’s shell—neither yielding ground. “
Watching the two sides trade blows, Yang Zicang gradually found himself in awe of Zhao Yun’s combat skills—this guy was definitely a trained professional, his long spear moving like a swimming dragon, his technique far superior to Yang’s own.
Although the satellite attack was powerful, the skeleton always managed to overlap with its target in time, rendering the attack ineffective. The light landed on the Moon Angel, doing nothing more than making it appear more aesthetically pleasing, as if the being was wrapped from head to toe in a radiant skeleton armor—utterly useless for anything else.
Zhao Yun, with his superb spear techniques, blocked all attacks, leaving Lü Bu perfectly protected without a single flaw.
Suddenly, the Skeleton of Light flashed and shielded Cheng Yunze, taking a satellite attack head-on before leaping forward once again.
Yang Zicang’s eyes widened.
A thin black sword, rippling with energy, stabbed out from within the skeleton with a whoosh!
Sensing the blade rapidly approaching, Zhao Yun Acted with lightning speed, raising his right arm as a faint red flame shimmered into existence to parry the thrust.
[I neutralize 50N.]
Puff! Blood splattered.
The sword swayed instantly. In less than a second, the blade struck several times; Zhao Yun’s right arm fell to the ground with a thud!
[I neutralize 50N!]
Is the outcome already decided?
That’s what countless people, watching via the super financing provided by the members of the Four-Phase Team, were thinking inside.
“You’ve already lost, both of you,” said Cheng Yunze.
“Lost?” Lü Bu let out a dismissive laugh, his feet not moving an inch.
Instantly, Zhao Yun’s aura grew oppressively heavy, as if something was about to awaken.
“In fact, Yang Zicang is our real opponent.” Cheng Yunze leisurely stepped forward two paces, saying, “Why must we fight here?”
Lü Bu looked at the motionless radiant skeleton.
“Is a mere Yang Zicang worth you holding back?”
“Of the cores applied for in the Demon Hero-Class Arena City, six were brought over by a newcomer from our city in City No. 11, from Yang Zicang’s side, using a thousand-person-level wish talisman. That is all I have to say.”
So this was the reason Cheng Yunze hadn’t pressed the advantage for a killing blow—countless people realized. He would rather forgo what seemed like a chance to slay a powerful enemy than leave Yang Zicang a manageable opponent.
A faint, unusual glimmer finally stirred in Lü Bu’s otherwise impassive eyes.
A flash of understanding hit Yang Zicang. He finally figured out how Hong Haocheng had escaped: by using a Wish Talisman. And a thousand-person-rated one at that.
So, thousand-person-rated Wish Talismans didn’t need to be activated before a Bloodline Resonance Statue or Resonance Statue?
……
In Silver White 23rd City.
The entire crowd was in an uproar.
Some found it hard to believe; others were overjoyed—the six cores needed to apply for the Demon Elite Arena had been obtained by a newcomer from this very city, taken from Yang Zicang’s hands!
Countless individuals who had been Red Models since early morning suddenly heard this news and immediately associated it with that youthful face that briefly appeared on an isolated island a few months ago.
It was as if he were a sun, igniting the glory of all.
And it was only now that they realized the man had accomplished such an incredible feat in City 11—a monumental deed of snatching all six cores from a newly ascended powerhouse who had participated in the “Divine War”!
Countless red lines rippled through the city like waves.
In a tidy, abandoned house, Hong Haocheng watched as the halo on his chest flickered on and off, off and on…
Beside him, Cui Rong was idly poking at the fire. Among the three, only Cui Rong hadn’t taken the Magician-class exam. For him, it would be nice to slip in and snag some rewards in the end, but survival was the top priority.
“Boss, is that Yang Zicang really that terrifying? Even Cheng Yunze is so wary of him?”
Uncharacteristically, Hong Haocheng didn’t answer him, seeming lost in the information.
{I wish I could bring my family back to life, but I don’t have the strength to bring them here…}
{The White Model guys have all entered the Magic King Hall by now.}
{How many of us Red Model folks are in there? I only see two or three…}
{Everyone else is outside.}
{That powerhouse who seized the cores in City 11 must be in the Magic King Hall, right? I wonder if he’s at Cheng Yunze’s side…}
Cui Rong sighed, poked the fire once more, then suddenly looked up at Cheng Yunze’s constantly shifting expression.
“Brother Hong, what’s wrong with you?”
{If only that man were here.}
“I…” Hong Haocheng’s hands gripped empty air, clenching and then releasing again.
{Who would want a bunch of deadweight losers…}
After several empty grasps, Hong Haocheng suddenly clenched his fist, widened the cute eyes that Xu Fei loved most, and angrily said:
“We’ve got nothing, but you’ve got me!”
A triangular broken line suddenly burst forth from his chest.
“I, Hong Haocheng, am the one you’re looking for!”
He flicked his hand to the side, and the Odd-Even Sword whooshed up from the ground as the boy snatched it into his palm. Hong Haocheng lifted the sword and walked toward the door, a faint, earthy yellow ring glowing in his pupils as he turned his head to look at Cui Rong.
“The Demon Hero Hall needs me. Don’t cook lunch for me.”
Swish! That figure, twisting the door open, instantly blurred across more than ten meters, charging like an agile leopard towards the distant building exuding overwhelming demonic might, stepping on broken stone steps, abandoned road signs in the grass, and old cement pillars.
{Those willing to come in, follow me!}
For dozens of miles around, everyone from the Red Model was astonished, sensing through this Mental Link the figure of a young man as impulsive as a greenhorn.
The red sun was slowly rising on the horizon.
A red broken line spread outward from the Demon-Slayer Championship Arena in the city.
{Everyone of the Red Model, he’s the one who chose to refuse joining our Four-Phase Team in order to safeguard your interests. His name is Hong Haocheng.}
Seeing the incredibly swift figure he had just erupted into, all those still watching were completely stunned.
“Is it really him?”
“It really is him!”
{He’s one of us. What’s his name, Red-something?}
{Red be damned! He dares to venture deep into the lone island alone, dares to enter City 11 to snatch things from the Metro Group, and dares to refuse an invitation from the Four-Phase Team! He’s our leader!}
{Brothers, no more sleeping! Get up and cheer for Haocheng!}
{Charge!}
{Head to the Demon Elite Palace!}
……
With closed eyes, sensing the “Prelude to Death,” Yang Zicang slowly opened them.
The breath of dawn drifted and spread across the wasteland. The phantom of the Demon Elite Palace flickered and shifted from side to side. The only constants were the seated figure within, and the cold morning light that filled both places simultaneously.
The shifting scene came to a halt.
Before him stood a slightly illusory back, so familiar.
The man wore a dark, stylishly tailored woolen coat with a hint of hemp-black, his hair of medium length with slight waves, and his shoulders were broad and sturdy. Beneath classic trousers were a pair of well-polished brown leather shoes.
Yang Zicang slowly rose to his feet.
“Why are you here?”
He looked at this figure, slightly taller than himself. These hands had once held his arm, urging him not to fall. They had also handed him a statue, telling him that in this world, they were a team. And, within the holy remnant’s spiritual sea, they had journeyed together through eons of time, guiding primitive societies toward new civilizations and leaving behind martial arts schools that would be passed down for millennia.
“Mo… ri…”
Yang Zicang’s eyes reddened and cracked; the death prelude he had sensed this time belonged to Morrie!
“Why did you come here!”
Mr. Gray Crow’s words still seemed to echo in his ears—the more someone is connected to you, the easier it is for you to sense them.
He shouted hysterically:
“Get out of here! Why get involved in this mess!”
—”Julia, I’ve finally found you.”
Morrie tightened the newsboy cap on his head, lifted the scarf around his neck a bit, and stepped into the surging crowd in front of the Demon Hero Hall, drifting along with the flow.
The angle of the Demon Hero Hall slowly approached.
Yang Zicang followed Morrie’s figure, watching helplessly as he stepped into the corridor of the Demon Hero Hall.
—{You have entered the Watch Corridor.}
Before the arc-shaped corridor, Morrie turned to look at the sun behind him, then faced forward and tugged down his brim, walking toward a water-curtain door opened before a Mordo Fang Chamber.
Lost Illusion Company, Main Meeting Hall of the Demon Hero Hall Special Action Team.
Boboli stood up and rushed madly out of the meeting room, toward Huan Bao’er’s office.
“No statue, I can’t eject the team member…”
Yang Zicang wanted to remove Morrie’s team status, but the statue was not here.
And even if the statue were at hand, ejecting him now wouldn’t work. Because the moment Demon Hero Hall appeared, everyone’s quota had already been sealed.
“Gray Crow, Senior Gray Crow!” Yang Zicang, whose spirit body had been forged by Gray Crow, shouted, looking around!
No one answered.
“There’s still over a day and ten hours! Ah!”
Yang Zicang paced anxiously, but Morrie’s figure, pressing forward, never stopped walking.
—”A few of you, were you planning to enter the Magic Hero Hall only now?”
The familiar voice rang out.
—”Yeah, what’s up?”
—”I’m a professional Temporal Investor. Let me join your team.”
Yang Zicang’s mind churned like a whirlwind.
“No way, I have no way, only to wait, only to!”
He could only pray that, because of his special bond with Morrie, his death omen would last longer, and that he could make it in time!
But would it last over a day!
“Please, just get through this, and you’ll be safe! Why did you have to come out ahhh!”
Yang Zicang had already decided that he absolutely must, no matter what, obtain an “Impression Revival” in this Magic Hero Hall, and then record Morrie’s image!
Yet it had to be at a time like this!
It had to be in the Arena City of his own making!
It had to be under the premature perception that sensed the prelude to his death!
“Senior Gray Crow!”
He should still have a Flash left, right!
If he wasn’t mistaken, from his previous involvement in the operation to save the Land of Frequencies Loss, maybe… perhaps… another “Group Flash” would be born!
His fists clenched tight.
“Flash!”
Did he still have one? Maybe he didn’t… he didn’t!
“Why did you have to leave at a time like this… Can you help me with one more investment…”
Is it there or not…
Even if it is, there’s no chance now.
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