Squelch!
A hair-raising muffled sound spread.
Without the slightest hesitation, Jingliu sidestepped the attack. Her right hand formed a claw, and with a fiercely sharp wind, she pierced straight through the Borisin's chest.
Scalding wolf blood instantly drenched her entire arm, yet it could not melt the coldness in the depths of her eyes.
The Borisin roared in pain, frantically swinging its claws to counterattack, but Jingliu's left hand grabbed and pulled, snapping its entire forelimb.
In the next instant, a scene appeared that chilled the surrounding wolf pack to the bone.
Jingliu exploded with brute force, actually swinging the Borisin—who weighed several times more than her—high into the air!
Immediately after, her fingers suddenly exerted force, tightening around the opponent's sternum and flesh.
Rip!
The crisp sound of muscle fibers snapping and the noise of bones separating echoed simultaneously. A rain of blood showered the earth, and the pungent, bloody scent incited a maddening frenzy.
The Moon-Eater Borisin, renowned for their prowess in close-quarters combat, was actually torn in half by her.
Bleached white broken bones were exposed to the air, and dark red organs mixed with minced meat were splattered across the ground.
The surrounding Borisin, who had originally intended to pounce, stared blankly at the figure standing amidst the remains of the corpse, blood-soaked yet utterly indifferent.
Overawed by this, fear actually suppressed their bloodthirsty instincts, and they subconsciously retreated.
Jingliu casually flicked away the minced meat hanging from her fingertips, her blood-stained, ice-colored long hair clinging to her cheeks.
She slowly raised her face, which was covered in sticky bloodstains. Her pupils were terrifyingly red, releasing an aura even more brutal than that of the Wolf Soldiers.
So what if I have no sword?
Killing intent that is not extinguished by fear, and a fighting spirit that is not shaken by death.
Jingliu finally understood what Qi Zhimu had left unsaid when he spoke those words to her years ago.
Everyone will face a desperate situation; on the battlefield, life and death are determined in a single moment and a single thought.
Once fear occupies your heart, only death awaits you.
The Cloud Knights must not let their weapons leave their hands, yet the battlefield changes in an instant, and no one can guarantee they will never lose them.
At such a time, the only thing a person can rely on is their own will.
As long as the killing intent is not extinguished and the fighting spirit is not shaken, all things can serve as a sword to pierce through the enemy's body.
However, the deterrence was short-lived.
For these bloodthirsty Abominations, the tragic death of their kin not only failed to quench their fierce flames, but the thick, inseparable scent of blood stimulated their frenzy to the absolute limit.
Accompanied by howls, many Borisin entered a state of lunar madness, pouncing toward Jingliu and the other Cloud Knights without fear of death.
The slaughter began once more.
There was no testing, only an unrelenting fight to the death.
Having lost their equipment, the Cloud Knights found it difficult to move under the impact of the beast tide, and their defensive line was on the verge of collapse.
Only the area where Jingliu stood became one of the few forbidden zones in this purgatory.
She could no longer hear the battle cries, roars, or even the screams of her comrades.
At this moment, she was more crazed than the Borisin.
Facing the claws and fangs pouncing from all directions, Jingliu dodged what she could; those she couldn't, she traded injury for injury, life for life.
The Borisin that bit through her shoulder had its brains blown out in the next second.
Claws slashed open her abdomen, yet she didn't even knit her brows. She reached back, grabbed the opponent's arm, tore it off along with the skin and bone, and then stabbed it into their Vital Point.
No one expected that the wounds on Jingliu's body, some deep enough to see bone, would actually stop bleeding, scab over, and heal at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Although her stamina was being rapidly consumed and her cheeks under the bloodstains grew increasingly pale, her movements did not slow down much.
Tear—
Another crisp sound.
Jingliu tore a Wolf Soldier that was attempting a sneak attack into two pieces mid-air, her entire body drenched in blood.
The countless severed limbs and broken arms beneath her feet had already piled up into a small mountain.
She stood atop the mountain of corpses; any enemy that stepped into her attack range would be instantly torn to shreds.
One person had actually held half of the flank's defensive zone!
But mortals have their limits.
A body of flesh and blood could not support her fighting forever.
That frantic healing speed was not without a price; it was overdrawing Jingliu's stamina and even her life.
Amidst the endless slaughter, time gradually lost its sense of presence.
Perhaps an hour had passed, or perhaps only the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn.
Jingliu felt her limbs grow heavy, and her lungs felt as if molten iron had been poured into them; every breath brought sharp pain.
In the crimson world before her eyes, the enemies' forms began to overlap, turning into blurred, blood-colored afterimages.
Her foot slipped on the pile of corpses, and Jingliu's combat stance suffered a momentary stagnation.
A Borisin that had been watching for a long time seized the opportunity. It lunged forward, opening its foul-smelling maw, its fangs—strong enough to crush alloy—aiming straight for Jingliu's slender neck.
Too close, too fast.
Jingliu instinctively wanted to raise her hand, only to find that her physical reaction speed could not keep up with her brain's command; it felt incredibly heavy.
The shadow of death completely enveloped her at this moment... Was it going to end like this?
Watching that hideous wolf maw rapidly enlarge in her pupils, a flash of unwillingness crossed Jingliu's eyes.
She did not regret dying in battle, she only regretted not being able to wait for her Master's recognition, and she hated her own weakness, which left her unable to repay her Master's kindness for teaching her.
However, the expected death did not descend.
A streak of light fell from the sky, tearing through the sun-blotting green canopy and the thick blood mist permeating the battlefield.
A figure slammed down in front of Jingliu, and a terrifying shockwave erupted outward from the point of impact.
The Borisin that was about to bite through Jingliu's neck didn't even have time to scream before it was instantly blown into a mist of blood by this majestic pressure.
The airwaves rolled, flipping all the Borisin within dozens of meters.
Jingliu snapped her eyes open.
A familiar, cold aura completely dispersed the nauseating smell of blood that filled her nostrils.
In her blurred vision, a cold and reassuring back was reflected.
"Mas... ter..."
Jingliu's voice was as thin as a thread. Her legs felt weak, and she half-knelt on the ground.
Qi Zhimu did not look back. He slammed his fist into the mountain of flesh and corpses that filled the abyss!
In an instant, the earth trembled!
An invisible wave spread at the speed of light, covering a hundred-mile radius!
Within that range, all the corpses and flesh of the Abominations, and even the living Borisin, were instantly turned into fly ash; no body tissue remained.
The battlefield instantly became silent.
The surviving Cloud Knights all looked bewildered, not understanding why the enemy had suddenly turned to ash.
Clear Cold and Sleeping Snow arrived at the battlefield in a divine wind ship, following the gap torn in the forest. Witnessing this scene, their hearts and minds were shaken.
It wasn't the first time they had seen Qi Zhimu use such means, but it was the first time they had seen such terrifying destructive power.
They could clearly feel that Qi Zhimu was radiating an anger that was difficult to conceal.
"All troops, hear my command: retreat and regroup."
Qi Zhimu's voice spread across the hills and through the woods, ringing in the ears of every surviving Cloud Knight.
Not everyone could recognize him, but that aura unique to the Xianzhou people could never be mistaken.
Finally... they had held out until the reinforcements arrived!
Qi Zhimu withdrew his fist, turned around, and looked down at Jingliu from above.
A complex light flashed through his eyes and vanished, leaving only coldness in the end.
He gripped the empty air, and a long sword appeared in his palm, which he then threw down in front of Jingliu.
"Get up."