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Feng Tianlong stood drenched in blood, the crimson liquid flowing down his skin, staining his clothes and painting his fierce face a deeper shade of red. He was positioned at the center of a battlefield littered with corpses, like a demon from hell, coldly surveying the soldiers beneath him who were too weak to resist.
The surrounding soldiers had long lost any will to fight back; their eyes were filled with fear and despair as they helplessly watched this maniacal killer take the lives of their comrades one by one. Their spirits had been utterly crushed, leaving them incapable of raising their weapons.
At that moment, the last solitary warrior, filled with immense courage and determination, charged toward Feng Tianlong. He knew he could not defeat this terrifying foe, but he could not stand idly by. His steps were heavy yet resolute, each stride imbued with unyielding conviction.
Feng Tianlong coldly regarded the warrior's charge, a sneer curling at the corners of his mouth. As the soldier closed in on him, Feng Tianlong struck without mercy. His hand shot out like lightning, piercing through the warrior's chest, blood spraying forth and splattering across Feng Tianlong's arm.
A flicker of pain and unwillingness flashed in the soldier's eyes, yet he still clutched his weapon tightly, attempting one final counterattack. However, Feng Tianlong callously seized the gun from his grasp and effortlessly snapped it in two. The sound of breaking metal echoed in the air, resembling the shattering of the last thread of hope.
"This kind of thing doesn’t deserve to be called a weapon," Feng Tianlong spat disdainfully as he tossed the broken pieces to the ground. "Only cowards rely on such garbage! A true warrior relies on his own strength, not these worthless trinkets."
His voice dripped with contempt and mockery, as if those who wielded firearms were nothing more than meaningless ants in his eyes. He cast a scornful glance around him, seemingly waiting for the next soldier brave enough to challenge him. But all that remained was silence; every soldier was paralyzed by his terrifying presence, none daring to take a step forward.
Feng Tianlong's laughter rang out once more—wild and unrestrained—echoing across this battlefield that had turned into a hell on earth. He reveled in the thrill of slaughter, as if each kill brought him immense satisfaction. Those once filled with hope and courage were now reduced to despair and humiliation, becoming helpless sacrifices in Feng Tianlong's hands.
One soldier lay in a pool of blood, his legs severed, leaving only his upper body intact. Covered in dirt and blood, he trembled uncontrollably yet still fought to prop himself up. He curled beside a lifeless comrade’s body, clutching his last weapon—a small handgun.
He knew there was no retreat left for him; this might be his final strike. His hand shook as he placed his finger on the trigger, squinting to aim at Feng Tianlong's head. At that moment, Feng Tianlong was lost in a bloody frenzy, his gruesome smile resembling that of a demon from hell, completely oblivious to the desperate soldier fighting for survival.
The soldier's heart raced; he doubted whether this bullet could harm Feng Tianlong and even questioned if it would matter at all. But he had no other choice; this shot was not just for himself but for all those fallen brothers. He could not let their sacrifices be in vain; even if this shot changed nothing, he had to avenge them.
Taking a deep breath, he raised his trembling arm, determination flashing in his eyes. His fingertips tightened around the trigger as he pulled it back; a gunshot rang out through the air as the bullet soared toward Feng Tianlong's head.
However, Feng Tianlong seemed to possess an extraordinary sense of perception. At the moment the bullet was about to hit him, his figure flickered like a ghost, and the bullet grazed past his head, embedding itself in the ruins far away.
The soldier's eyes instantly lost their light; he knew he had exhausted his last ounce of strength and failed to hit his target. The handgun slipped weakly from his grasp, clattering to the ground with a dull thud. His breathing became rapid and labored, his gaze gradually dimming until he finally collapsed beside the body of his comrade.
Feng Tianlong slowly turned his head, his cold gaze sweeping over the exhausted soldier. He couldn't muster even a shred of interest in such a feeble resistance; he merely sneered contemptuously and walked past, as if trampling on an ant that had lost its will to fight.
The last flicker of life in the soldier faded with the missed shot, but in that moment before he fell, a glimmer of defiance still shone in his eyes. Even though this shot changed nothing, he had given everything he had, fulfilling his final duty to those who had fallen.
Standing amidst the mountains of corpses and rivers of blood, Feng Tianlong surveyed the scene around him. The ground was stained red with blood, dismembered limbs scattered everywhere; the battlefield resembled a hellish nightmare. His bloodshot eyes scanned everything, a cruel smile curling at the corners of his mouth as if this hellish sight was his proudest masterpiece.
His gaze finally landed on Master Han, lying unconscious on the ground not far away. Master Han's body was battered and nearly drained of Spiritual Energy. Once a figure of immense authority, he now lay helplessly in a pool of blood, as if stripped of all his former glory.
Feng Tianlong approached Master Han, looking down at him from above with an even deeper sneer on his face. His laughter echoed harshly across the silent battlefield, filled with triumph and mockery.
"Hahaha, Master Han, is this your power?" Feng Tianlong scoffed disdainfully. "You summoned that meteor with all your might, thinking you could annihilate me along with the demon army. And what happened? The demon army was indeed wiped out completely, but alas, I am still alive!"
He extended a hand and slowly waved it in front of Master Han as if showcasing his terrifying survival ability. "You used every means at your disposal, but unfortunately, you still couldn't do anything to me. Now you can only lie here like a dead dog while I, Feng Tianlong, remain standing tall!"
Feng Tianlong's laughter reverberated through the air as he looked at this once-revered powerhouse now lying at his feet. His sense of self-satisfaction and arrogance reached its peak. "How pathetic you are, Master Han. You're nothing but a washed-up cultivator now; you couldn't even destroy me with a meteor. This time, you've lost utterly."
He sneered as he stepped over pools of blood and bodies like a demon standing atop the world. For him, this victory held no suspense whatsoever, and Master Han's defeat was the best proof of his triumph.
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