The Madakaros commander, jolted from its shock by Lin Ming's declaration, let out a furious roar.
Its cunning tactical mind was overwhelmed by pure rage. Its minions, its meticulously prepared terror troops, had been turned into confetti by a single attack.
This was an unacceptable humiliation.
It hefted its energy halberd, the weapon crackling with malevolent red lightning. "YOU WILL PAY FOR THAT, PRIMITIVE!" it bellowed, its translator distorting the words with rage.
It charged, not with the wild abandon of its Berserkers, but with the focused, lethal speed of a trained cultivator. Its cultivation was solid—at least Mid-Stage Foundation Establishment, perhaps even higher.
"I'll take this one," Lin Ming said, his voice calm despite his dwindling Qi reserves. He motioned for Pham Tuan to stand down. This was a cultivator's duel.
Pham Tuan hesitated for a second, then nodded, understanding that his brute force would be less effective against a skilled, weapon-wielding opponent.
He moved to deal with the Berserkers still trapped in Lin Ming's stone prison.
The commander swung its halberd in a wide, vicious arc, aiming to cut Lin Ming in half. The attack was fast and powerful, leaving a trail of superheated air in its wake.
Lin Ming didn't meet it head-on. He used his superior agility, enhanced by his Fairy Qi, to sidestep the attack. Thuan Thien came alive in his hand, a flash of silver light in the dusky park.
He didn't slash; he thrust, aiming for the small gap in the commander's armor near its elbow joint.
CLANG!
The commander, despite its rage, was skilled. It twisted the shaft of its halberd just in time, deflecting Thuan Thien's thrust.
Sparks flew as the two potent weapons met. The force of the impact sent a tremor up Lin Ming's arm.
This opponent was far more dangerous than the warriors in the library.
The duel began in earnest. It was a deadly dance of light and shadow. The commander's halberd was a whirlwind of red energy, each swing capable of felling a tree.
Lin Ming was a flowing river of silver, weaving, dodging, and countering with precise, efficient strikes.
He wasn't trying to overpower his opponent; he was analyzing, looking for a flaw, a moment of weakness.
Quynh Nhu (comms): Zenith, he's open on his left side for 0.2 seconds after every third swing. His guard is sloppy there.
Quynh Nhu, from her sniper's nest, saw the battle in a way no one else could. She was his tactical overview, his third eye.
Lin Ming didn't need to acknowledge the comms. He had already sensed the same opening. He was baiting the commander, forcing it into that specific attack pattern.
The commander swung. One, a vertical chop. Two, a horizontal slash. Three, a wide, sweeping attack. This was it.
Instead of retreating, Lin Ming stepped into the attack, moving inside the halberd's effective range. It was an incredibly risky maneuver.
He raised his left forearm, on which the [Dragon's Blood Armor] bracer instantly manifested.
The shaft of the halberd slammed into the draconic scales. The crimson and gold armor absorbed the impact completely, not even a shudder running through Lin Ming's body.
The commander's three eyes widened in shock. Its opponent had just blocked its most powerful attack with a bare arm.
This surprise was the only opening Lin Ming needed. With his right hand, he thrust Thuan Thien forward. No fancy techniques.
Just a pure, straight, undeniable thrust powered by his Foundation Establishment core.
The legendary sword, carrying the Will of Heaven, plunged deep into the commander's chest, piercing through its armor and its heart.
A look of profound disbelief crossed the commander's face. It looked down at the silver blade protruding from its torso, then back up at the calm, implacable human who had bested it. "...how?" it gurgled, black blood frothing from its mouth.
"You underestimated us," Lin Ming said softly, pulling his sword free.
The commander staggered back, its life force fading rapidly. With its dying breath, it pressed a button on its wrist gauntlet, a defiant smirk on its face. "THE... OFFERING... HAS... BEGUN..."
It collapsed, dead. A hidden self-destruct mechanism in its armor activated, consuming its body in a silent, violet fire to prevent its technology from being captured.
[Madakaros Commander (High-Stage Foundation Establishment) Eliminated!]
[Decapitation Strike Successful!]
[Battle Will +2500!]
[Current Battle Will Points: 11610 / 20,000 to advance.]
Lin Ming stood there, catching his breath. The park was finally silent. Pham Tuan had finished off the last of the trapped Berserkers. The first battle in the defense of Hanoi was won.
But the commander's last words sent a chill down his spine. The Offering... has begun.
As if on cue, Minerva's voice, now tinged with undeniable alarm, cut through their comms.
Minerva: Chimera, problem. A massive problem. The Berserkers aren't just random attack dogs.
"What do you mean, Minerva?" Lin Ming asked, his senses on high alert.
Minerva: Their life-signatures... they're not just dying. They are detonating. Every time a Berserker falls, its body releases a burst of concentrated death-energy, or what their data calls 'resentment essence'. It's not a physical explosion; it's spiritual.
She brought up a city-wide map on their HUDs. All across Hanoi, wherever a battle was raging, small, invisible plumes of dark energy were rising into the sky.
Minerva: The energy is being drawn towards a single focal point. My God... it's the National Library. It's the Tu Thu Dien. They're not using it as a weapon. They're using it as an antenna!
Lin Ming finally understood the true, horrific nature of the Madakaros's plan. The Great Offering wasn't just about killing people.
It was a massive, city-wide sacrificial ritual. Every dead Berserker, every human casualty, their fear, their pain, their dying breath—it was all 'fuel'.
The Tu Thu Dien was acting as a giant spiritual amplifier, gathering this death-energy and preparing to beam it into space as a signal fire to their higher-ups.
Lord Maka-Jed wasn't just trying to sink the city; he was trying to turn it into a ghost bomb.
"Minerva, can you stop it?" Lin Ming asked desperately.
Minerva: Negative. The machine is being powered by an energy source I don't understand. It's not technological. I can't hack it.
It was being powered by primordial earth energy. By the Elemental Codices.
The battle for the park was over, but the war for the city's soul had just begun. Their victory here had inadvertently contributed to the enemy's grand design.
Across the city, the sounds of battle raged on. The sirens wailed. The sky was on fire.
Lin Ming looked towards the distant shape of the National Library. He knew what he had to do. He had to go back to the Hall of Four Books.
He was the only one who understood how it worked. He was the only one who could stop it.
But this time, he wouldn't just be facing alien invaders. He would be facing the concentrated death-screams of an entire city.