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墨書 Inktalez
If a single bullet cannot take down the opponent, then use two bullets for the attack. If two bullets still fail, then unleash a hundred rounds. If that doesn't work, then bring out seventy or eighty weapons and target just one person. This was Ye Huan's consistent style. Now, perhaps due to the influence of his surroundings, Yang Guangyao's command during the battle seemed to gradually align with Ye Huan's approach, throwing bullets as if they were free.
At the same time, as the bullets fired from Lo Shaobin's M60 traced a beautiful arc in the air, nearly all members of Dragon Hall aimed their guns skyward under Yang Guangyao's reckless command. In less than three seconds, three to five Professionals fell victim to the hail of gunfire, their bodies riddled with holes, a sight too gruesome to behold.
"This..."
Having witnessed the demise of several Professionals, Beitang Mo let out a shocked exclamation after narrowly dodging two bullets. Instinctively, he darted toward that direction, but before he could reach halfway, Yang Guangyao had already noticed his presence and hurriedly commanded Dragon Hall members to aim their guns at Beitang Mo. A torrential barrage of bullets soon descended upon him, dense enough to rival a thousand flying arrows.
In contrast, Beitang Mo was enraged by the death of several Eastern State Cultivators. As the commander among many Cultivators who had come to Jiuzhou, he could not remain calm. Without a second thought, he charged toward the oncoming storm of bullets and drew a rather unique Flying Sword.
This Flying Sword was special mainly because of its bizarre design. Apart from the hilt in Beitang Mo's hand, its blade was entirely white and formed a circular arc around the hilt. In the center of the blade were inscribed two characters in small seal script: "Sunny Light."
The Sunny Light Sword would surely make countless people envious in Eastern State. Unlike typical Flying Swords that rarely possessed defensive capabilities aside from blocking attacks with their narrow blades, the Sunny Light Sword was different. Its true power lay in its defensive abilities alongside its normal offensive capabilities—like now...
As Beitang Mo infused a large amount of Heaven and Earth Spiritual Energy into the Sunny Light Sword, its blade radiated an even more dazzling white light, enveloping him in a protective shield that effectively blocked all those incoming bullets!
"No way, this can't be real!"
Rubbing his eyes vigorously, Yang Guangyao nearly popped his eyes out upon seeing the white sphere rushing toward them from above. His mouth formed an 'O' shape until the white orb came within mere dozens of meters. Only then did Yang Guangyao react and hurriedly shout, "Quick! Everyone fire grenades at that white sphere!"
He knew well that his M4A1 assault rifle was equipped with a Grenade Launcher. However, what surprised him was that as soon as he finished speaking, a barrage of small grenades with long trails rapidly approached Beitang Mo. It was clear that Dragon Hall members were quite wary of the glowing shield surrounding Beitang Mo.
Boom!
A tremendous explosion echoed from the white sphere of light, and thick gray smoke billowed upward, obscuring what was happening within. No one could see whether the white sphere had shattered or not. Even Yang Guangyao found himself instinctively rising on his toes, as if that would grant him the ability to see through the smoke.
"There's no need to look; I am standing right in front of you."
A voice as cold as ice suddenly resonated from Yang Guangyao's chest, sending chills through him.
Hearing that voice so close, cold sweat trickled down Yang Guangyao's forehead. Yet he dared not lower his gaze to see who stood before him. He felt that if he did, the man speaking would take his life in an instant.
"Who are you?"
A loud shout broke through the tension. Lo Shaobin seemed to have noticed the situation and, with his shout, the members of Dragon Hall realized that an uninvited guest had appeared before Yang Guangyao.
It was an old man, dressed in a Dao robe. He was short, with a head full of white hair and a slightly hunched back, resembling an old Taoist common in the Nine Provinces. The only distinguishing feature was a peculiar weapon in his hand, resembling a crescent moon—whether it was a blade or a sword was unclear.
Having heard Lo Shaobin's question, the old man grinned ominously, revealing a set of snow-white teeth. "Who am I? You killed dozens of cultivators from Eastern State, and you still don't know who I, Beitang Mo, am?"
As he spoke, the old man raised his strange weapon as if he would plunge it into Yang Guangyao's chest at any moment. This scene left all members of Dragon Hall frozen in shock, including Lo Shaobin. If he wasn't mistaken, this old man was the one who had released the white shield and charged at them earlier. Moreover, he had introduced himself as Beitang Mo. In these times, anyone bold enough to declare their name after offending others was either a reckless fool or someone immensely powerful—Beitang Mo clearly belonged to the latter category.
'What should we do? Is Young Master going to meet his end before he even finds me and Yang Guangyao?'
Countless thoughts flashed through Lo Shaobin's mind. Setting aside Yang Guangyao's fate for now, he felt that if Yang Guangyao were to die here, he would likely not survive either. After all, he had been so arrogant while holding an M60 earlier. But then again, whether it was a donkey or a horse would only be known once it was led out for a walk. If he just stood by and watched as the old man killed Yang Guangyao, Lo Shaobin feared he would never find peace even in death.
After pondering for a moment, Lo Shaobin quickly came up with an idea and provocatively said, "Beitang Mo, right? I challenge you!"
"Challenge?"
Stopping the movement of the Sunny Sky Sword, Beitang Mo understood that there was a rule in both the Eastern State and Jiuzhou where the weak could challenge the strong. However, given the current situation, did he really need to engage in a one-on-one duel with a newcomer?
With a cold smile, Beitang Mo shook his head and chose not to respond. Instead, he accelerated his movements, directing the Sunny Sky Sword straight towards Yang Guangyao's chest.
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