58: I want to hit ten

Shen Xiaochuan stood in the center of the battlefield, a faint purple light lingering around his fingertips. He looked up at Trump on the high war chariot, his voice not loud, yet clearly reaching everyone's ears.

"Are you the first one?"

Trump's figure froze, and he subconsciously took half a step back, his expression darkening. He didn't respond, immediately lowering his head to bark into his communicator, "Son of Shiva, go! Kill him!"

Before his voice had even faded, a person rushed out from the team on the right. Clad in robes billowing like flames, he roared as he sped forward.

"I am the Son of Shiva! How dare you desecrate the dignity of my Tianzhu? Today, I will surely take your life!"

He suddenly raised both hands, and a burning whip lashed out through the air, striking directly at Shen Xiaochuan's face. Before the whip even arrived, a scorching wave of air had already surged toward him.

Shen Xiaochuan didn't move an inch, his gaze cold and stern. It wasn't until the whip was only three meters away that he suddenly drew his blade. A flash of blade-light flickered, and a bolt of lightning struck out along the edge, exploding with a thunderous boom and hitting the fiery whip dead center.

The whip snapped on the spot, and the remaining flames died out as they hit the ground. That bolt of lightning surged back up the broken whip, instantly piercing through the attacker's body. The man's body suddenly went rigid, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed with a heavy thud, smoke rising from his entire body.

The entire field fell into a dead silence.

Shen Xiaochuan slowly sheathed his blade, his gaze never once falling on the corpse on the ground.

"Next."

Another person darted out from the direction of South Vietnam. Holding a bone shield, his footwork was eerie and his speed was astonishingly fast. In the blink of an eye, he had closed in on Shen Xiaochuan, raising his shield to ram into him.

Shen Xiaochuan stepped back slightly with his left foot to avoid the brunt of the attack. He raised his left hand, and a bolt of lightning shot from his fingertips, piercing through the bone shield and striking the man directly in the chest.

The man's movements came to an abrupt halt, his shield dropped to the ground, and his hands clutched his chest tightly, but no sound came out of his open mouth. A few seconds later, he fell backward.

The third person came from Italy. He quietly circled behind Shen Xiaochuan, his footsteps light and almost silent. The moment he reached the left side, he suddenly leaped up, thrusting a short sword toward Shen Xiaochuan's waist.

Without even turning his head, Shen Xiaochuan swept back with the back of his blade. A heavy blow smashed into the man's back, and he instantly went limp on the ground, his limbs twitching incessantly.

The fourth person was a musician. Standing a hundred meters away, he plucked the strings of a zither, emitting sharp and piercing sound waves. The air vibrated, and the stones on the ground jumped along with it.

Shen Xiaochuan frowned slightly and raised a hand to cover his ear. Although this sound was annoying, it couldn't disturb his mind. He walked forward slowly, and with every step he took, the sound waves grew a bit weaker.

When he reached fifty meters, he suddenly accelerated. Within a few steps, he had closed in on the opponent and slammed the back of his blade hard against the body of the zither. The instrument instantly twisted and deformed, and the sound came to an abrupt halt. Before the man could react, he was kicked flying, crashing into a war chariot and fainting on the spot.

The fifth and sixth people were a pair of brothers from Southwest Asia. The two launched a joint attack; one scattered a green poison mist while the other hid within the mist, secretly throwing poison darts.

Shen Xiaochuan held his breath and focused his mind, drawing his blade and spinning once. The powerful wind blew the poison mist away, and before the poison darts could even get close, they were struck down by lightning.

He leaped into the mist, striking decisively. One was hit in the shoulder by the blade, and the other suffered a knee injury; both fell to the ground unable to get up and were subsequently dragged off the battlefield by soldiers.

The seventh person was a necromancer. Chanting an incantation, he summoned five skeleton soldiers armed with rusty swords to besiege Shen Xiaochuan. He himself retreated into the distance to continue casting, attempting to control even more skeletons.

Shen Xiaochuan didn't dodge or evade, charging straight into the enemy formation. With one strike he decapitated a skeleton, and with one kick he shattered another's chest. Just as the remaining three raised their weapons, he had already closed in on the mage, slamming the back of his blade heavily onto the man's skull.

The mage fainted on the spot. The five skeletons lost control and collapsed into a pile of scattered bones with a clatter.

All seven had fallen.

No one else dared to step forward and challenge him.

Shen Xiaochuan stood tall, his clothes unstained by dust, his breathing as steady as ever. He looked up at the enemy ranks and said indifferently, "Who else?"

No one answered.

The gods of various nations lowered their heads; some quietly retreated, while others silently put away their weapons. The coalition army that had been clamoring just a moment ago was now as silent as death.

Trump sat on his war chariot, his face ashen. He gritted his teeth and ordered, "Send word to Yamamoto's remnants, Kim Dae-sung, and the Manila Legion to bypass through the Southeast Rift and reach the rear of Skydome City within two hours—the target is to destroy the Faith Core."

The order was quickly conveyed.

The scene shifted to the North Gate of Skydome City.

Yang Lie was still standing on the city tower, his hand tightly gripping a long halberd. Suddenly, he looked up and sniffed, his nostrils twitching slightly. A strange scent of blood permeated the air, definitely not left behind by his own side.

He whispered two words: "They're here."

A few minutes later, a Scout came running in a hurry: "Report! A large number of enemy troops have been discovered approaching the weak points of the city wall from the flanks! There are about twenty thousand of them, including troops from Dongying, Kimchi Country, and the Phil-monkey Country!"

Yang Lie sneered, "Want to launch a sneak attack? Have you asked this halberd of mine?"

He turned and walked to the edge of the city wall, his feet firmly planted on the ground as he thrust the long halberd deep into a crevice in the stone. A surge of black Qi emerged from his body, flowing through the halberd and into the earth.

The entire city wall began to tremble.

The enemy troops quietly approached under the cover of thick fog. They used explosives to blow open a section of the wall and swarmed into the city with cheers. Some set fire to houses, others destroyed equipment, and some even hacked frantically at wooden training dummies as if venting their anger.

"Huaxia Divine Domain is finished!"

"Burn their granaries!"

"Leave no one alive!"

Before the clamor could subside, the sky suddenly turned dark. Dark clouds rolled, and a black mist rose from the ground. The temperature dropped sharply, and even the flames became dim and lackluster.

Immediately after, a low voice resounded through heaven and earth:

"This place is a Forbidden Ground."

Everyone looked up in horror.

On the city tower, Yang Lie's eyes were blood-red. He slowly raised his hand, and a massive black shadow emerged behind him. That shadow was thirty meters tall, shaped like an evil ghost with horns on its head and holding a giant halberd.

The Evil God Projection had descended upon the human realm.

In the next instant, the black shadow stepped down.

Boom!

More than a hundred enemy soldiers were instantly turned into mincemeat. The ground cracked, and blood splattered everywhere. The survivors felt their Soul Flying Away and Spirit Scattering as they turned to flee.

How could Yang Lie allow them to leave?

He raised his long halberd high, pointing at the enemy crowd. The black shadow raised its arm accordingly, and the giant halberd swept out. A wild wind surged, and dozens of people were cut in half at the waist. Severed limbs and broken bodies flew through the air, making a pitter-patter sound as they hit the ground.

The remaining soldiers fled in all directions, but no matter where they ran, the black shadow always loomed over them. Every step it took meant a swathe of enemies being crushed, torn apart, or frozen.

The twenty thousand troops were completely wiped out within ten minutes.

News had not yet reached the front battlefield.

Shen Xiaochuan suddenly looked up toward Skydome City. The corners of his mouth curled up slightly, as if he had already seen through everything.

He said loudly, "The twenty thousand people you sent have already been completely wiped out."

Trump suddenly stood up, "Nonsense! You are not in that city, how could you know what's happening at the rear!"

Shen Xiaochuan said nothing, only raising his right hand. A light glowed at his fingertips as he gently pushed forward.

An image appeared in the air.

It was the actual scene of the North Gate battlefield.

Yang Lie stood atop the city tower as the black shadow crushed the enemy's flag with one foot. Severed limbs flew everywhere, and blood stained the streets. The enemy troops wailed and fled, but there was nowhere to hide.

The image was incredibly clear, and everyone saw it all.

Trump's face turned deathly pale.

The other gods were also shocked beyond measure. They had originally thought there was still a chance of victory in this battle, but they hadn't expected the opponent to have arrangements both in the front and the back.

Shen Xiaochuan gazed at the enemy ranks and said calmly, "Now, do you still want to fight?"

No one responded.

Some people laid down their weapons, and some quietly left the ranks. Even the neutral gods who had originally supported the South Alliance began to waver.

Shen Xiaochuan stood still, his blade still hanging at his waist. The wind blew the corners of his clothes, and the copper gears on his cuffs swayed gently.

He stared at Trump and said word by word:

"Tell me, is it time to talk, or will you continue sending people to their deaths?"