A sudden car horn blared out of nowhere, incomprehensible in its fury, but everyone felt it must've been cursing obscenely.

However, no one cared anymore about what exactly it was cursing at.

The voice, as if from a nightmare, rang out again by Lou Feng's ear.

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat—

It was as if the shadow of a manure cart from the past had returned, accompanied by a rhythmically piercing roar, suffocating Lou Feng, once again enveloped by the shadows of the past.

But this time, what rushed towards him was not the indescribable wild surge, but a blinding flash so brilliant it seemed as if stars were exploding.

These weren't just traditional steel-core bullets, among them were also many mercury bullets enchanted with An Ran's Sword Qi, bursting into dazzling flashes the moment they were fired.

Accompanied by the mad swaying of the buffalo-laden vehicle, countless bullets surged out from the muzzle in an instant, almost forming a continuous line of fire, brutally sweeping across.

Four hundred years later, this empty and shattered hall once again faced a torrential downpour and gale, rapidly fracturing and chipping under the onslaught.

In haste, Lou Feng instinctively raised his Spiritual Shield.

But then he felt... what it was like to be a cowardly ghost bravely fighting a black man, he couldn't help but roll his eyes back, overwhelmed by power, nearly collapsing from the onslaught.

Even if the Spiritual Shield wasn't much use, it at least bought him a fleeting moment.

A glint of Spirit Light on the alchemy equipment on his wrist, the Ice Iron Wall once again rose from the ground, like an iron wall, roaring nonstop, with endless ghastly fissures spreading and emerging.

At the very least it was blocked...

Lou Feng's cold sweat had not yet fallen, and in the moment he instinctively wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, he suddenly realized... that damned broken car, it moves!

The roar drifted from outside.

Amid the wild sounds of the horn, the buffalo charged, flinging about its wild firepower. After plowing deep crevices into the top of the Ice Iron Wall, the sweeping machine gun had already, along with the sprinting tricycle, bypassed the icy barrier, firing at will in a tilted barrage.

Blood convulsed, flame flickered.

Slan, the quickest to react, roared as he drew his sword, his complexion turning deathly pale, as if he had lost too much blood, his entire figure shriveled like a skeleton. Yet within the rising blood-glow, a huge figure surged up, pulling out a blade dozens of meters long, and with a thunderous slash,

cleaved the buffalo in twain right down the middle.

Panicked, the tricycle sped up even more, darting about like a headless fly, still dragging along the marginally lethal, terrifying firepower.

Just like a seal frantically scattering at the chase of an orca... and then it got even more fucking complicated!

In a roar, Slan suddenly accelerated, charging out from the blood-glow, meeting the machine gun's wild barrage head-on, closing in on the firepower that could turn both defense works and the soldiers behind them into shreds, blocked by the silver light rising from his arm shield.

The silver light flickered like a lotus in the rain, unstable, yet the charging Returning Knight advanced inch by inch, until within dozens of meters, and from the roar, he threw out his curved sword.

The released curved sword wailed, spinning back, and actually cleaved through the fire spit out by the heavy machine gun, shattering the red-hot machine gun into pieces in an explosion, still unstoppable as it continued forward.

But in that instant, there seemed to be a faint spiritual fluctuation, that bizarre trike, a ghostly hybrid of tricycle and motorbike, visibly blurred for a moment.

Shadow Transformation!

But even the shadowy spiritual transformation couldn't block a fierce strike from the crowd, shattering instantly, bursting, scattering like liquid...

Strangely, there seemed to be a faint spiritual fluctuation again, as if a human-like object appeared for a moment, its lips silently parting, saying something. Then afterwards, an invisible pull surfaced, the collapsing shadow explosion flowed back together like liquid, rushing together, reborn, the speeding tricycle flying out from it.

Unscathed!

Even the buffalo didn't know what had happened... blinking dumbly, flashing its high beams. Only the Prophet in the cart slowly closed his eyes, seemingly falling back into slumber.

Then, Slan heard...

The wail from behind.

It was a surging tide of Sword Qi!

Fast, too fast, even if there was just a split second of an opening and opportunity.

As time seemed to slow infinitely, once An Ran noticed the Returning Knight's brief confusion and Slan's movements, his figure had already disappeared from that place.

What replaced him was a roaring torrent rushing forth.

"With this hunt, I pay my respect to the White Deer."

From the whisper, the Sword Qi converging on thousands of metal fragments almost dissolved and swallowed him whole, the endless sharp light converging into a beam, shooting straight forward.

He turned himself into the blade, casting forward!

This was no longer just a technique from the Throwing Pot Ceremony Book, but a secret tradition superior to it, the "Shooting Ceremony"!

As body becomes blade, relentless, its name is merely a single word—

—[Fierce]!

Those ancient texts once said, a day and night last for thirty moments, one moment equals twenty lo-ye, one lo-ye equals twenty finger-snaps, one finger-snap equals twenty instants...

An instant is a thought.

At this moment, it was just a matter of a single thought.

The pallid Sword Qi streaked forth, piercing formations, shattering all defenses, tearing apart all obstacles, dying both the enemy and himself in a dazzling crimson that shone brightly.

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