“If I insist on giving it a try?” Kong Deming’s gaze turned razor-sharp, his soul power pushed to the limit.

He knew this was the only chance—Xu Tianran’s Servant was not in the palace at the moment. If he missed it, perhaps no one would be able to stop this madman again.

“Elder Kong, you’re forcing my hand.”

Xu Tianran’s expression went completely cold. The gentle luster in his eyes was instantly replaced by a bizarre molten-gold hue.

Molten-gold lines crawled up his cheeks like living things. Space behind him began to twist as the spectral image of a massive purple dragon slowly emerged.

The dragon looked very much like the Purple Brilliant Heaven Destroying Dragon, yet was entirely different—its scales were covered with molten-gold tracery, destructive flames burned in its eyes, and the aura it exuded made the entire Silvermoon Divine Shield tremble faintly.

“This is… the Purple Brilliant Heaven Destroying Dragon?” Kong Deming’s pupils constricted, disbelief written across his face.

He too possessed imperial blood, and was intimately familiar with the Purple Brilliant Heaven Destroying Dragon martial soul. Though it also bore a destruction attribute and a tyrannical draconic might, the dragon before him radiated a heart-palpitating aura of annihilation—stronger even than the Purple Brilliant Heaven Destroying Dragon.

“This is no ordinary Purple Brilliant Heaven Destroying Dragon, Elder Kong.”

Xu Tianran’s voice turned hoarse and icy. His molten-gold eyes locked onto Kong Deming. “This is… the power that will let me become a god!”

Within the Silvermoon Divine Shield, two terrifying auras collided and intertwined.

…

Meanwhile, out on the streets of Mingdu, the antimatter legion’s slaughter continued. No one knew of the silent contest deep within the imperial palace.

“Dai Huabin! We’ll start the reckoning with you!”

Night wind laden with the stench of blood swept past the street corner. Huo Yuhao stood motionless atop a shattered wall, short black hair lifted by the airflow, revealing a face sheathed in frost.

His eyes suddenly flared, twin blood-red beams lancing into the sky. The once bright silver moon was replaced in an instant by an eerie blood moon.

The blood moon cast a strange crimson glow, dyeing half the sky scarlet. Even the air seemed viscous and scorching.

“Awooo—!”

Piercing howls rose one after another, as if to tear eardrums apart.

Hundreds of massive Borisin werewolves burst from the shadows, their bodies covered in dark gray manes, blood-red currents burning across their hides like flames. Their razor fangs and claws glinted coldly as drool dripped from their jaws. Wherever they passed, deep claw prints were gouged into the ground.

Their eyes were scarlet, burning with frenzied killing intent as they charged straight at the Shrek Academy.

“Careful! What are those things?”

Xiao Xiao and the other Masters were shielded behind by the Servants and Xuan Zi. Faces pale at the tide of werewolves, they huddled closer.

Shrek’s group was escorting a group of civilians toward the outskirts of Mingdu. Xuan Zi, Elder Song, and other Titled Douluo opened a path in front, while the Servants formed a defensive formation to guard the flanks.

With their strength, they could force a breach even against Voidranger: Tramplers-class foes. But the antimatter legion came like an endless tide, and the need to aid civilians along the way slowed their breakout far more than expected.

Bei Bei blasted a lunging Reaver away with a Lightning Dragon Claw. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a civilian slashed by a voidsoldier’s claws and immediately pulled back to rescue them.

Though they did not know that these civilians’ souls had been drawn by Lu Jingming and entrusted to the Greater Lord Rukkhadevata’s dreamspace for safekeeping, to them, every fallen figure was a living life.

As Shrek students, they could not look away.

Shrek Academy had its problems, but at least its teachings to students were upright.

And they truly had the ability to save a group of people—even if those people were citizens of the Sun–Moon Empire.

“My Lord above!”

At the center of the formation, Jeanne raised her holy standard blazing with sacred radiance. Golden light spread out like a warm tide, enveloping the hundreds of civilians behind.

That light seemed gentle, yet held unyielding strength—the Voidranger: Reavers’ claws left only shallow white marks upon the barrier.

The Voidranger: Eliminators’ dark-matter blasts struck it and merely rippled its surface.

Even the Voidranger: Distorters, capable of spatial transfers, could not pass this sacred shield.

A Voidranger: Tramplers noticed the anomaly and drew its bow, loosing a wind-arrow filled with violent wind element.

The arrow shrieked through the air, but the instant it struck the barrier, golden light held it fast and slowly erased it.

The civilians, unharmed, were stunned for a moment, then broke into excited cries: “It’s the Saint! The Saint is protecting us!”

They clustered behind Jeanne. The panic on their faces eased as they followed the direction of the holy banner, advancing steadily.

Xuan Zi looked at the charging Borisin werewolves and snorted coldly. His soul rings blazed to life.

A terrifying yellow gravity field enveloped a hundred meters around. The foremost werewolves were slammed down as if by invisible giant hands. They crashed to the ground with dull booms, punching deep man-shaped pits in the stone streets. The sounds of shattering bones were clear as day.

“That’s more like it…”

Xu Sanshi had just relaxed when several blood-stained wolf claws reached out from the pits. The werewolves whose bones and organs should have been crushed actually crawled out slowly.

Their wounds closed at a speed visible to the naked eye; broken bones clicked and twisted back into place. In just moments, they were once again roaring and pouncing.

“This regeneration… is insane!”

Bei Bei drew a sharp breath. Lightning Dragon Claws gathered in his hands; he pierced one werewolf’s heart—only to see the wound writhe shut instantly. The werewolf counter-swiped, nearly batting him away.

Elder Lin flashed like lightning. A condensed wind blade howled forth, precisely severing a werewolf’s arm.

Horrifyingly, the werewolf only glanced at the severed limb, then stooped to pick it up and pressed it back into the stump like a toy part.

Flesh fused in an instant, bone reconnected; in the space of a breath, the arm was restored. It even flexed its claws, as if the injury had never existed.

Elder Lin’s eyes tightened. His wind blade flew again, this time at the werewolf’s head.

As the head tumbled, the body staggered a few steps, even tried to bend down to pick it up. Only when the neck wound failed to heal did it crash to the ground, truly dead.

“They’re Borisin! Abominations of Abundance!”

Qingque’s voice held disbelief. She recognized the werewolves’ origin and unconsciously shrank sideways, trying to shield her friend Songque at her side.

At almost the same instant, Songque did the same, each trying to put the other behind them.

Their eyes met; an awkward air hung between them. Then, tacitly, both edged closer toward Jeanne—the Saint’s shield was impressively strong and tangibly safer.

Jing Yuan’s gaze had long since locked onto the Borisin werewolves, eyes grave.

He lifted his formation blade slightly; violent golden lightning gathered at once, surging forth like charging dragons. Wherever it passed, hundreds of Borisin werewolves were charred to ash, a burnt stench filling the air.

“These aren’t native Borisin. They’ve been forcibly converted.”

Jing Yuan spoke in a low voice, seeing through at a glance. “Someone is manipulating them using the Abundance’s benediction.”

That blood moon hanging in the sky was too conspicuous, barely disguised—laid out like a playing card face-up.

Coupling that with the traits of the converted Borisin, he instantly guessed the culprit—the Borisin warhead defeated by the former Luofu Sword Champion and imprisoned aboard the Xianzhou Luofu: Hoolay.

“Follower of Lan. The General of the Hunt. So this is what fate has in store?”

A deep roar rolled from the distance, making nearby buildings shudder.

Atop a towering building not far away, the massive silhouette of a werewolf slowly took shape.

He was huge, his body covered in pale-blue fur. Scarlet auras rose from him like wolf-smoke, and the pressure he exuded made even Xuan Zi and Elder Song tense involuntarily.

“Hoolay.”

Jing Yuan’s voice was calm, but his hand tightened slightly on the formation blade.

Sensing the powerful evil aura, Jeanne pulled Qingque and Songque tighter beneath her guard. The light on the holy standard shone even brighter.

Jing Yuan surveyed the chaotic battlefield, frowning with a slight click of the tongue.

As the strategist of the Xianzhou Alliance, he was used to winning by planning. Yet, in this totally unfamiliar otherworld, he had repeatedly been forced onto the back foot.

The rules here differed entirely from the cosmos he knew. Most crucially, there was no Divination Commission to provide detailed intel, no eyes across the stars relaying messages. Even with sky-piercing wisdom, he was like a clever cook with no rice—hard-pressed to make accurate predictions and timely responses.

One Hoolay and these forcibly converted Borisin werewolves were not enough to shake Shrek Academy’s lineup.

What truly worried Jing Yuan were the endlessly arriving antimatter troops.

These pitch-black killing machines seemed to have received some directive. Faced with Hoolay and the Borisin, they were utterly indifferent.

They continued along their set trajectories, cold eyes fixed only on destruction, not sparing even a glance for the Borisin beside them.

“A temporary alliance, then…”

Jing Yuan muttered, his gaze growing more solemn.

The antimatter legion joining with the Borisin undoubtedly made an already dire situation worse.

At that moment, Hoolay moved atop the high-rise.

The massive war blade in his hand gleamed with a crimson chill, the aura twining around the blade roiling and roaring like a living thing.

With an ear-splitting roar, Hoolay’s massive body leapt from the building. His heavy frame drew an afterimage as it fell, bringing down a force like ten thousand pounds, cleaving straight toward Jing Yuan below.

Before the blade even landed, the rending wind split the ground in spiderweb cracks. Where the crimson aura passed, even light seemed devoured.

“Scatter!”

Jing Yuan’s eyes focused as he barked out.

Before the words finished, his formation blade thrummed upward, golden lightning coiling around it like a living dragon.

Clang—!

A crash like shattering eardrums exploded.

The formation blade wrapped in golden thunder met the war blade shrouded in crimson aura head-on. At the point of contact, blinding light burst forth as if a miniature sun had been born.

Wild energy spread outward from the collision point. Space creaked under the strain, laced with fine cracks as if about to collapse the next second.

A massive mushroom cloud rose over the city center, and a dark-red shockwave swept out like a tsunami.

Where it passed, skyscrapers flattened like paper; stone streets peeled up, exposing bare earth beneath.

The antimatter troops locked in combat bore the brunt. Dozens of Voidranger: Reavers were torn apart by the shockwave, scattering into drifting black particles.

Voidranger: Tramplerss in the distance were flung away, crashing into the ruins with heavy booms.

Hoolay’s Borisin werewolves fared no better. Hundreds flew back like cut kites, slamming into shattered walls, bones cracking in a chorus of snaps.

Shrek’s people were also caught in the blast. Xuan Zi hastily channeled soul power, forming a massive ochre shield, yet was still driven back step after step as cracks spidered across it.

Jeanne’s holy shield flickered violently. Though it barely protected the civilians and Qingque’s group behind, it still skidded back dozens of meters, gouging twin furrows in the ground beneath her feet.

The others all bore Jeanne’s protection as well, but were flung apart by the shockwave. Shrek Academy’s formation was scattered, each party separated.

Amid roiling dust, Jing Yuan and Hoolay faced one another across the distance.

Jing Yuan was unscathed, golden lightning coursing over him, formation blade braced against Hoolay’s war blade without yielding a step.

Hoolay’s massive body swayed slightly, but there was no surprise in his scarlet eyes. If the Xianzhou’s general were weak, he would not deserve the title.

After a heartbeat of silence, an even fiercer clash began anew on the ravaged streets of Mingdu.

“Master, are you all right?”

Karna’s voice was low and steady, hiding a trace of concern.

He had not moved, only extended an arm to catch the stumbling He Caitou.

Golden armor reflected a cold luster in the moonlight, perfectly matching his composed bearing.

“I’m fine.”

He Caitou shook his still-heavy head. Sweat dampened his brow; his face was pale.

That wild shockwave had nearly displaced his organs. If not for Jeanne’s holy shield blocking most of the force in time, he might already be a mangled corpse.

Even so, being flung into the air had sent him spinning end over end. He’d hit a broken stone pillar on landing. Now the world reeled and a high ringing filled his ears.

He steadied himself and looked around—only to realize the blast had carried him into an unfamiliar alley.

The companions who had been close by were gone. Only Karna remained, guarding his side like a shadow.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep