Drawing the Sword

Han Qingyu had struck down Great Spikes from midair before, more than once—leaping from an earthen bluff, slashing down from a soaring jeep, even hurtling out from a helicopter... His final slash at Medical Station 101 had no official name, but because the moonlight seemed cleaved apart in that striking visual, people later came to call it the Moon-Splitting Slash. And just moments ago, merely a few hours past, he had fought a Red Shoulder almost entirely on his own, battling to the very end... standing atop the snow-covered cliff with the Azure banner across his shoulders. In the eyes of war correspondents or people listening to tales, these were probably glorious scenes, destined perhaps to be recounted and turned into legends in the years to come. But there was nothing of the sort this time. This time, upon first colliding with the source energy field, Han Qingyu had been sent flying, coughing up blood... and when he charged forward once more, dragged down as four blue-sheened spikes clung to him with a death grip, wretchedness was the only word left to describe it. He was utterly disheveled and miserable. Yet he had run out of time. Right behind him raged a desperate life-and-death struggle, and the ones fighting for their lives were the two companions who had turned back for him. With their strength, it was impossible for Wu Xu and Rusty Sister to hold off more than twenty blue-sheened Great Spikes, just as Han Qingyu could not have done so either. Only because the corridor had a fixed width, preventing all twenty blue-sheened spikes from attacking at once from the front, could they risk their lives to hold out for a moment. Only a moment, and that moment would be very brief... Before long, they would die. And then, perhaps the small Red Shoulder would descend, or perhaps the traction field would finish activating... So at that moment, Han Qingyu threw caution to the wind. With his mind stripped of all stray thoughts, he pressed forward, step by step, dragging four blue-sheened Great Spikes by sheer brute force as he stepped into the source energy field that enveloped the traction field like a protective dome. Relying on the support of the blue-light column sword he had plunged into the deck at the first instant, along with the added weight of the four blue-sheened Great Spikes clinging to his body, he held his ground inside the dense source energy field. Standing his ground here... was utterly insane. It was like an ordinary person planting himself in the middle of a highway. The silent battering of the source energy field struck relentlessly, slamming head-on into his body again and again like a speeding heavy truck. Blood was no longer being spat out; it simply welled from his mouth, constantly overflowing. Then, with another step, he crossed into the traction field. *Fucking hell,* Han Qingyu cursed silently in his mind the moment his foot touched the ground. He couldn't move. Enormous metallic source energy pinned him firmly in place within the field, pouring ceaselessly into his body. This should have been sheer bliss, but damn it all, he couldn't endure it! Normally, when stimulating the overflow of life source energy, Han Qingyu would feel a tearing ache in his meridians and blood vessels after consuming four or five metal pieces. But right now, it felt as though he were going to explode... Han Qingyu felt as if the vast metallic source energy flooding the deck had mistaken him for another metal pillar within the traction field... *Goddamn it, am I going to start shooting lightning bolts in a second too? And then shoot beams of light into the sky?!* Just like him, the four blue-sheened Great Spikes he had dragged into the source energy field were completely unable to budge an inch. * * * "Bang!" The sound of an iron wall shattering echoed through the air. Then came loud shouts of command in various languages. Liu Yiwu's voice yelled anxiously, "Leave some men behind to hold them off! The rest of you, follow me down!" Azure left a detachment behind to block the remaining blue-sheened Great Spikes on the first deck, while the rest pushed into the second. Another wave of chaos erupted. "It's not here... What is this?!" "A Red Shoulder... The Red Shoulder is here!" "Hold it back! Pin it down here!" The small Red Shoulder, having just emerged from the command room, was blocked right outside the exit by wave upon wave of surging Azure warriors. "It's below! The rest of you, keep heading down!" "...Smash through it!" On the second deck down inside the Great Spike mothership, this time, there were no spikes in front of Nepal Front Commander Upadhyaya to block his way. Cradling a massive shard, he slammed into it twice with all his might. *Crack.* The iron wall gave way, and the passage downward opened... Upadhyaya turned back around. This short, middle-aged officer, said to have served as a monk for many years, had always kept a low profile and rarely voiced opinions due to the Nepal Front's relative weakness. In this battle, the people of the Indedu Front had dared to declare that they would make amends for their blunder, mobilizing fifteen thousand troops and committing two super combat powers to the fight. Yet the Nepalese, who in fact bore responsibility for the incident as well, could not do the same. They were not so strong, lacked plentiful elite forces, and possessed no super combat powers. Turning around at this moment, a radiant smile finally broke out on Upadhyaya's somewhat dark-complexioned face... At last, they had accomplished something grand and important. At last, they had made amends for a small part of their debt. At last, they could hold their heads high, shed their guilt, and walk with their chins up... The handful of Nepal Front elites present cheered for their commander and for the honor of the Nepal Front emblem on their chests. Watching them, Upadhyaya smiled joyfully. Standing by the breach leading downward, he waved them onward... and then, once the fierce charge swept past, he remained alone by the edge of the opening. *Clatter!* His hands, long since lacerated by the jagged edges of the shard and drenched in blood, suddenly went limp... The massive shard Upadhyaya had been cradling against his chest crashed to the floor. In his chest was a bloody puncture hole. It had been pierced open by an intercepting blue-sheened Great Spike back on the first deck, when he had recklessly rammed the iron wall. Just like that, he had breached two iron walls in succession. Tilting his head back, breathing heavily, Upadhyaya leaned against the wall and slowly slid to a sit... in agony, yet smiling. * * * "Support them!" The very first thing Liu Yiwu saw upon entering the second-to-last deck was the sight of Wu Xu and Rusty Sister desperately holding off the horde of spikes... the backs of their fighting figures. Hundreds of soldiers charged forward at the command. Liu Yiwu leaped down from the iron chest. "Where's the traction field?!" He glanced back, and the scene of the traction field unfolded before his eyes... *That kid?! He really is there.* By now, Han Qingyu, standing inside the traction field, was already drenched in blood. Blazing arcs of electricity and towering metal pillars shooting beams of light into the sky surrounded him... This spectacle caused many of the charging Azure elites to freeze in their tracks. It was shock—so he truly was attacking the traction field. Just the three of them, launching a direct assault on the traction field. And then came unease and bewilderment. No one in Azure had ever seen a traction field before, and none knew what this situation entailed. "So, what are we supposed to do now?" "Save... Help..." Liu Yiwu faltered, unsure of what order to give, or whether he should issue an order at all. Facing the Azure commanders and soldiers swarming over, Han Qingyu strained to lift his head slightly and shook it slowly from side to side. "Don't... come in." His voice was faint, barely a whisper. Unable to make it out at all, people asked one another anxiously, "What did he say?!" as they stared toward the traction field. At that exact moment— *Bang!* *Bang, bang, bang!* Beside Han Qingyu, the bodies of the four blue-sheened Great Spikes suddenly detonated in rapid succession, shattering into fragments. They understood now. Ordinary people could not withstand the energy of the traction field; even blue-sheened Great Spikes couldn't endure it... And by the looks of it, Han Qingyu was already on the verge of collapse. "Where are the supers?! Why haven't the supers below come up yet?!" Liu Yiwu roared in fury. Yet those super combat powers had been forced away from the mothership by that Red Shoulder and three hundred blue-sheened spikes from the outset, locked in a bitter struggle, and in truth, not much time had passed since then. Even if they chose to sacrifice two of their own to break out now, it would likely be too late. "Qingzi!" Wu Xu and Rusty Sister tried to rush over, but Liu Yiwu had men hold them back. An impasse?! If all several hundred people here threw themselves into the breach, would it be enough?! The commanders present exchanged glances, preparing to make their final decision. *Screeech!* A short scraping sound of metal against metal suddenly rang out. Those who heard it turned their gazes toward him. "He..." "He seems to have moved." "...It looks like he's drawing the sword." That guy, who appeared entirely suppressed by the heavy, viscous energy, stood there like a corpse, unable even to straighten his body. Yet... he seemed to be drawing the sword. Was he? Were their eyes playing tricks on them?! There was virtually no distance between the source energy dome and the traction field. From start to finish, one of Han Qingyu's hands had remained gripped around the blue-light column sword. Now, the traction field wouldn't blow him away... and now, he was drawing the sword. *Skrrr!* Another screech. This time, everyone saw clearly: the blue-light column sword was drawn out from the dead iron deck by two inches. Three inches. Five inches. ... There was no roar, no violent movement, not even a change of expression or physical reaction—only that hand, bleeding incessantly, drawing the sword. Once, twice... *I'm about to fucking burst,* Han Qingyu thought. He had no grand thoughts, let alone room for sentimentality; right now, all he had was the raw instinct to survive. If he didn't do something soon, he was going to explode. *Skrrr, skrrr... Clang!* With just a faint sound, the column sword parted from the deck.