Li Wenxing, Li Guanglong, and Li Juntang sprinted desperately, glancing back every few steps, terrified that the dreadful man might suddenly give chase.
Not until they had run several miles, far from the pit, did they finally slow down. They gasped for air, faces still stricken with lingering terror.
“That… that thing—what kind of monster is it? How can anyone possess such power?” Li Juntang leaned against a tree, his face pale.
Li Wenxing shook his head. “I don’t know… but one thing’s certain—he’s no mortal. This time… we may have truly stirred up disaster.”
Li Guanglong gripped his spear tightly, his voice low and grave. “This isn’t the time to debate. We must get out of here, find somewhere safe. Who knows if that monster will suddenly pursue us?”
The three exchanged looks, fear flickering in each other’s eyes.
They didn’t stop running. Stones tore at their boots, thorns ripped at their robes. None of it mattered—they could only flee as far as possible from that pit.
Behind them, their troops dwindled. Many, in their panic, were dragged away by the island’s strange plants—leaving behind only short, stifled screams before vanishing without a trace.
The sun dipped westward overhead, their shadows stretched long. Every glance back revealed that blood-misted sky, lingering like an unshakable nightmare.
“Your Highness… slow down… this old servant truly can’t run anymore…” Qian Jin panted heavily, leaning on a broken branch for support. His white hair was disheveled, his face streaked with sweat and grime, his legs trembling uncontrollably.
He was old. After fleeing an entire day, his strength was long past its limit.
Li Wenxing halted, turning to look at the ragged remnants of their force. A chill spread through his chest.
What had once been nearly a thousand elite troops was now barely thirty men. Their clothes were torn, their faces exhausted.
Drawing a deep breath, he rasped: “Everyone, stop here and rest for a bit. Eat some dry rations, drink some water. Before nightfall, we must find a place to hide.”
The men, as if pardoned from death, collapsed to the ground. They tore into their food like starving wolves, gulping water so quickly they coughed and choked.
Li Guanglong leaned against a tree, wiping blood from his face with his sleeve. His sharp eyes scanned the surroundings.
This was a dense forest, ancient trees blotting out the sky. Only a few rays of light pierced the leaves, the air thick with damp rot. Strange bird and beast cries echoed from afar, lending a chilling air.
“Eldest Brother… do you think that monster will follow us?” Li Juntang asked, chewing dry bread.
The bloody scene from before kept replaying in his mind. Commanders of Grandmaster level had been swatted aside like ants—obliterated with a mere flick of the man’s hand.
The thought made his heart shiver.
Li Wenxing shook his head, solemn. “Hard to say. His power is unfathomable. Best we keep as far away as possible.”
Li Guanglong frowned deeply. “We can’t sit and wait for death. Rest for now—then we press on.”
Just then, the forest darkened abruptly. The already sparse sunlight vanished.
A chill wind swept through, rustling the leaves with a sharp “saaa” sound.
Everyone instinctively looked up. And when they saw—it was as if a freezing spell bound them in place. Their faces drained of color.
Floating silently in midair, clad in white robes, was the same handsome man. His body shimmered faintly with light, even in the dim forest he shone like a beacon.
His cold gaze swept down at them—indifferent, detached. As though their desperate flight had never mattered in the slightest.
“He… he caught up?!” a soldier stammered, his teeth chattering. His bread fell from his hand as he tried to flee—yet his legs buckled, and he collapsed to the ground.
Li Wenxing, Li Guanglong, and Li Juntang shot to their feet, gripping their weapons. Their faces turned ashen, their eyes full of dread and despair.
They had fled with all their might for an entire day, only to discover they could not escape this monster.
The man spoke no words. He didn’t even acknowledge their panic. He simply lifted his right hand, pressing downward.
The sky seemed to collapse. A massive hand materialized out of nothing, descending like a mountain. Its crushing aura blotted out the heavens, pressing down upon them.
Intricate lines traced the colossal palm, radiating terrifying might. The air crackled and shrieked under the pressure, leaves tore free from branches, and the ground shook violently.
“It’s over…” Li Wenxing closed his eyes, despair filling his heart.
He could feel that dreadful force bearing down. Resistance was impossible. Death was inevitable.
Li Guanglong and Li Juntang gripped their weapons tighter, their faces ash-gray. Yet they had no will to fight back.
The soldiers were even worse—terrified beyond reason, on the verge of collapse.
Just as the giant palm was about to crash down, a dazzling golden sword-light suddenly streaked across the sky from afar.
Like a meteor splitting the night, it screamed through the air, crossing miles in an instant—
and struck the massive hand head-on! - Marinien
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