A Ghostly Fleet

As the black Binggu Spear, over two point four meters long, streaked through the air, its shaft trembled and hummed with a resonance of its own... Wu Xu did not look back. Riding the momentum of Fonseca's slashing blade, he sprang backward into the air, reaching out to grasp the spear. While still airborne, he struck twice in rapid succession with the butt of the spear. With one tap, he knocked the heavy sword he normally wielded over to He Tangtang. With another, he batted an ordinary-looking standard war blade back along its original trajectory. In that split second, Fonseca's pursuit arrived. A slash angling upward from low to high swept toward him head-on with tremendous force, whistling fiercely in the wind. *Whoosh!* A sudden detonation of source energy erupted in mid-air. Wu Xu flipped sideways and backward, thrusting out his spear with one arm. The spear tip accurately struck the blade's edge, whereupon a subtle flick of his wrist redirected the point, driving it straight at Fonseca's throat. At the same time, Wu Xu's body snapped back along the forward momentum of the spear thrust, using the force to loose three rapid-fire stabs in the blink of an eye, every strike aimed straight at vital points. Fonseca, who had held the upper hand all along, was instantly thrown into disarray, under abruptly mounting pressure. Only now did he realize that this silent Huaxia youth was on an entirely different level of combat prowess when wielding a spear compared to a blade. *Crack!* In the next instant, the spontaneous whip of the dead iron through the air let out a sound like splintering wood. The moment both of Fonseca's feet hit the ground, he looked up. High overhead, Wu Xu's entire body opened up, raising the spear high. The shaft bowed in the air and came crashing straight down like a cudgel. "Overestimating yourself!" Knowing full well that his source energy reserves were superior, an irritated Fonseca chose not to retreat again. Unleashing his source energy in full, he gripped his blade with both hands and slashed upward in a fierce counter. *Clang-buzz—* The violent collision sent the ringing vibration of clashing metal spreading through the air. Fonseca's feet sank deep into the ground. Simultaneously, Wu Xu was blasted backward through the air. Reaching the apex of his arc, he began to descend amid a chorus of startled cries. Yet it was not truly a fall, nor was it flight—it was a plummet! Like an iron weight of tens of millions of jin, Wu Xu slammed down from the sky... *Boom!* Holding the spear upright with his right hand, Wu Xu slammed down together with his weapon. Upon impact, the spear butt thudded into the ground, and his feet planted firmly... Under immense force, he landed almost in a single-knee posture. Yet that single slam sent tremors rippling through the earth. In front of the three-hundred-man array, the dozens of khaki-clad figures that had been swarming to attack were hurled backward in all directions by the shockwave. The Azure Dragon Gang members who had been locked in bitter combat felt the pressure vanish. One after another, they pulled back their half-swung war blades and looked toward Wu Xu... Wu Xu lowered his head, swallowed a mouthful of blood, and braced himself on the spear to stand. He glanced at Wen Jifei's trio within the formation, then turned to the gang members and said, "Thank you." With just that single sentence, Black Tooth, Xu Shiliang, and the others at the forefront of the battle array—already drenched in blood—froze in place... Over half a year. That was the very first sentence Ah Xi had spoken to them in over half a year. "Why do I suddenly feel so honored?" Through their pain and wounds, they burst into wild laughter. During that same span of time, Rusty Sister had already caught the two weapons meant for her. The smaller column sword was strapped to her back the instant she caught it, and then she reached out to seize the knight broadsword that followed. This medieval-style knight broadsword had belonged to Sean. It was a greatsword, with a long blade and an equally long hilt. As her iron gauntlets closed around it, the friction of the dead iron let out a sharp creak, and she leveled the blade at her side. "Let's hack at each other. Neither dodges. See who dies first," she suddenly said in English. The opposing top-tier fighter froze for an instant. Then, cursing loudly, he charged forward, swinging his blade... The iron armor charged head-on. *Clang!* She truly didn't dodge. Rusty Sister knew she possessed armor with astonishing defensive power—Jiang Chou had said so. But in high-level duels, she had never relied on her armor to take weapons head-on, because Han Qingqing, Plague-Chicken Fei, Wu Xu, and Tangtang had never allowed it, never permitted her to do so. Yet right now, the only matchup on the battlefield where they held the advantage, the only duel that could break the stalemate, was right here with her. She needed to end this quickly. And so, her iron armor took a direct slash... while her hands drove through a brutal horizontal sweep, followed by another. Horizontal slash, horizontal slash, vertical chop, vertical chop, vertical chop... A strike with every step, ten strikes in succession. With that final strike, Rusty Sister blew the opposing top-tier fighter into shattered pieces. The first top-tier kill of the battle had occurred, the opponent dead beneath the blade of Second Lieutenant Shen Yixiu. "I told you before, I'm very strong now," Rusty Sister muttered. It sounded as though she were explaining herself to her dead adversary, but in truth, the words were meant for a select few. After all, that was how the historical records would write it... With that said, the iron armor spun around and looked anxiously toward Han Qingyu. By this point, He Tangtang had already caught his heavy sword. The moment he took hold of it, he hurled the dead iron war blade in his hand over to Zhu Jiaming. This blade had been given to him earlier by Qingzi, forged from the dead iron of the Great Spike mothership on Xilang Peak. There were only three such blades forged back then, and aside from Qingzi himself, only He Tangtang had one. "If you survive, it's yours!" He Tangtang shouted to the Little Prince. Catching the blade, Zhu Jiaming replied, "Whoever goes back on their word is a dog!" Wen Jifei could not catch Elegy of the Square himself. If he tried to receive a dead iron sniper rifle shooting toward him at such velocity, and rolled an F on his luck, he might well die on the spot. He Tangtang caught it for him, and as he turned to pass it over, he tore away the gun bag. Wen Jifei raised the rifle, exposing Elegy of the Square to the eyes of everyone present. "A gun?!" "Could that be... that legendary gun?!" Those thoughts merely spun through people's minds; no one had the time to speak. Because the instant he took the weapon, Wen Jifei had already snapped the magazine home and pulled the trigger. The bullet was faster than speech. On the other side, Han Qingyu had just fought his way back through the encirclement. He was now dual-wielding blades. Besides that, onlookers suddenly realized that he still held a long wooden case in his hands. "That loadout..." "Is it really that person?" *Whoosh!* Before the first syllable of the rising uproar could form, the bullet grazed past Han Qingyu's waist, striking a dark silhouette behind him. That figure had been extraordinarily patient, lying in wait beneath the sand as Han Qingyu shot past and then charged back to rendezvous with his comrades. Only after roughly grasping the speed of Han Qingyu's movements aided by the column sword, and waiting for the exact instant he came to a halt... ...did the figure finally strike, bursting from the earth to slash at him from behind. When Wen Jifei spotted it, the black tip of the blade had not even fully pierced the sand. It was a completely pitch-black blade, and the man rose with it. The bullet struck him squarely. Yet that slash still swept forward with overwhelming force. In a situation like this, not even a top-tier combat power running source energy surges at maximum could remain entirely unaffected. Which meant... a super! A super was underground as well. Black Hand Theodore! This legendary super combat power had never been a man overly concerned with saving face; he possessed immense patience, and he cared only about winning. A sure-kill strike. Han Qingyu saw nothing, felt nothing. This was a surprise attack from a super directed straight at his back; by the time he noticed or sensed it on his own, he would already be dead. Under countless gazes that had no time to react... *Clang!* The blow was blocked. The wooden case shattered beneath the slash, revealing the massive black-and-red column sword within. Black and red? If only it were the kind that sparkled with blue starlight... someone thought. Yet even more people remained utterly dumbfounded. For this was another bizarre, sudden shift in position that defied their comprehension. To the naked eye, it appeared as if the sword and the man had instantaneously swapped places, thus intercepting that fatal slash. Han Qingyu had narrowly escaped death. The basis on which he had made that split-second anticipation had not been behind him, but right ahead of him... in the subtle motion of Wen Jifei's hand the instant he caught the gun. Without time to speak, Wen Jifei had already prepared to fire. ... Yet even though the strike had been blocked, the crisis was far from over. The instant Theodore's full figure emerged onto the ground, both hands gripping the black blade made no rearward pulling motion, nor did they gather force from behind. *Rip!* The blade's edge swept past the column sword, cleaving through the air like tearing paper. *Slash!* Han Qingyu retreated violently, yet the tip of the blade still sliced across his flank. Fortunately, the wound was not deep. However, Theodore's third strike, a head-on downward cleave, was already upon him. On this third strike, Han Qingyu finally found his chance to strike back. The instant the column sword fell into his grasp, he held it in both hands and, fueled by blazing fury, cleaved straight back. *Boom!* A frontal collision! The turbulent airflow blasted a crater into the sandy ground, and Han Qingyu flew backward like a kite with a snapped string, tumbling toward the earth. "His sword shattered..." someone murmured. "No, it looks like only a layer broke off," someone corrected. The frontal clash with a super had exceeded the tolerance of the column sword's surface coating. The black and red fractured and peeled away in flakes... gradually revealing the blue column sword, its specks of light dazzling and brilliant. "That sword?!" "The King!" "Major Qing!" Amid the clamor of shouts, Han Qingyu planted the sword and steadied his footing. He swayed slightly. *Spurt!* Patches of blood blossomed across the white shirt on his chest. "That sword is even better than the files stated, and you're a bit stronger than I imagined... The, Major Qing." Black Hand Theodore spoke with a faint smile, enunciating the last three words slowly, confirming every suspicion. The crowd fell silent. They had endured far too many shocks tonight—from the true identity of the Azure Dragon Gang's Ah Jing, to the incredible prowess of his companions, to Black Hand mobilizing in full, and a super like Theodore launching an ambush in such an underhanded manner. Yet the surprises were not over... Because at that very moment. Far behind them, across the seemingly calm expanse of the sea, amid the darkness and thick fog, a fleet was silently piercing through the mist. No, it was actually two fleets. One consisted of over ten vessels, spearheaded by a colossal mothership, approaching from the left. The other "fleet" consisted of only a single ship, neither large nor small, arriving from the right.