mchenry-crisis.org Chapter 78 Bloodbath
Chapter 78 Bloodbath
Tianhe South Fortress.
Song Chen doesn't remember how long he's been killing.
Time is sliced into pieces on the blade, each piece stained with blood.
There's no difference between a one-hour battle and a ten-hour battle; it's all about swinging your sword, slashing, dodging, and then swinging your sword again.
Through countless repetitions, the muscles formed mechanical memory, and the brain entered a strange state of clarity, as if the soul had floated out of the body, suspended above the battlefield, calmly observing everything.
The Thunderclap Blade transformed into a living lightning bolt in his hand.
The electric arc no longer emanates from the blade, but is integrated with the edge.
Each strike was accompanied by lightning, and each flash of lightning claimed a life.
The first-tier beasts were like paper in front of him. The wind from his blade swept past, their heads flew off, and their corpses were burned to charcoal by electric arcs before they even hit the ground.
Second-tier beasts can hold out for an extra second. They will try to dodge and use their scales to block, but the sharpness of the Thunderclap Blade, combined with the lightning power of the Nine Heavens Thunderclap, renders the second-tier defense as thin as ice. Wherever the blade passes, it is utterly devastating.
The third-tier alien beasts are the real opponents.
They are intelligent, tactical, and know how to cooperate.
A Tier 3 mutated water monster will feign an attack on his left side, forcing him to expose an opening on his right side, and then another Tier 3 mutated lizard will pounce from the right side.
But Song Chen's True Sight saw through everything. In his golden vision, the blood and qi of the two strange beasts flowed like two open books, each page filled with their intentions.
Instead of retreating, he advanced, the Gale Wings propelling him into the gap between the two beasts, the Thunderclap Blade drawing a perfect arc in front of him.
The electric arc condensed into blade energy that exploded in all directions, simultaneously engulfing the two third-tier alien beasts.
The mutated tiger's head flew into the air, the mutated jackal's body was split in two, and its purplish-black blood evaporated into mist in the electric arc.
[Defeat 2 Tier 3 Initial Stage Beasts, gain 1900 Kill Points.]
He didn't even check the system notifications because more monsters were surging up.
The battle on the wall has turned into a meat grinder.
Strange beasts surged in from the opposite bank of the river, crossing the mountain of corpses, leaping over the moat, and climbing the walls.
Humanity's defenses are shrinking, but at each point of contraction stands a warrior, their blood and energy burning, their weapons whistling, and their flesh and blood splattering.
The seventh firing point on the left flank.
The turret's base had been cracked by a Tier 3 mutated rhinoceros, and the psionic canister's outer shell was covered in cracks, threatening to explode at any moment.
The five soldiers of the defending army were firing desperately with psionic rifles, but the bullets only sparked when they hit the rhinoceros's scales.
A young soldier was flung away by a rhinoceros horn, crashing onto the wall and spitting out blood.
Song Chen swung his sword and attacked. The electric arcs on the Thunderclap Blade condensed to their maximum at this moment, and the entire blade transformed into a pure bolt of lightning. The blue-white light was so dazzling that people couldn't open their eyes.
He didn't aim for the rhinoceros's head; his True Sight told him that there was an old wound on its left hind leg, where the pattern of the scales had broken where it had healed.
The Gale Wings carried him to the rhinoceros's rear, and the Thunderclap Blade sliced into the broken line.
The blade pierced the flesh, and an electric arc flowed into the wound.
The rhinoceros let out a deafening roar, its massive body spinning violently as it attempted to use its horns to knock Song Chen away.
Song Chen did not retreat. He released the Thunderclap Blade and raised both hands simultaneously.
Thunder rumbled in the heavens.
Nine arcs of electricity shot out simultaneously from between his palms, not as a scattered attack, but as a single, thick pillar of lightning, which struck the hilt of the Thunderclap Blade.
The lightning was conducted through the blade into the rhinoceros's body, where it exploded inside its internal organs.
The rhinoceros's body stiffened for a moment, then it collapsed to the ground with a thud.
[Slayed a Tier 3 mid-level mutated rhinoceros, gaining 1300 kill points.]
Song Chen pulled back the Thunderclap Blade and turned to look at the wall.
More strange beasts are surging up.
His breathing was heavy, his heart was pounding like a drum, and he had already exhausted most of his energy, but his eyes remained clear.
No, it's not Qingming Festival; it's a kind of brightness that's almost insane.
He had never experienced such slaughter before.
In the wilderness, he was a lone wolf, hunting strange beasts for survival and to accumulate kill points.
Every battle is fought cautiously and meticulously.
When to strike, when to retreat, when to use his trump card; he cannot afford to make a mistake, because no one will come to his rescue.
But it's different here.
He has comrades protecting him here, so he can go all out.
He can kill to his heart's content.
It felt like a wild beast that had been suppressed for eighteen years was finally released from its cage.
His knife became faster, more ruthless, and more unrestrained.
The electric arcs on the Thunderclap Blade were no longer just blue and white, but were tinged with a dark red blood-red light.
But his swordsmanship did not become rough due to his madness. On the contrary, his master-level Bloodbath Swordsmanship performed at an unprecedented level under this extreme state.
Every strike was precise to the millimeter, every dodge was perfectly timed, and every release of lightning was perfectly timed.
His movements were as fluid as a mountain stream, swift yet orderly, fast yet composed.
It's not just about fighting, it's also about art.
A cruel yet beautiful art woven with blades and lightning, and painted with blood.
On the wall, an old soldier who was changing his magazine was stunned.
He watched Song Chen's figure weaving through the horde of strange beasts, his blade flashing like the moon and his lightning like a dragon. Each turn he made brought up a cloud of blood mist, and each landing left behind a corpse.
The young man's movements were as graceful as if he were dancing, and the corpse of the strange beast beneath his feet was his stage.
"Is this a student?" the veteran muttered to himself, nearly dropping the magazine in his hand again.
His comrade next to him gave him a push: "Don't stand there! Reload!"
The veteran snapped out of his daze, put the magazine back into the gun, but couldn't help glancing at it one last time.
He had served in the army for twelve years and had seen countless martial artists, but he had never seen anything like it. An eighteen-year-old youth could kill third-tier alien beasts on the battlefield as easily as killing chickens, yet his swordsmanship was as beautiful as a painting.
"Monster." The veteran shook his head and pulled the trigger.
……
Tianhai University, freshman assembly point.
The stadium was empty.
Thousands of freshmen stood in front of the big screen, heads tilted back, mouths agape, eyes wide as saucers.
The live stream footage of Tianhe South Fortress has become the focus of everyone's attention.
The images of other fortresses were shrunk to the edges, with only the Tianhe South Fortress occupying the center of the screen because Song Chen was there.
In the scene, the young man is slaughtering among a horde of strange beasts.
A third-tier beast pounced on him, and he beheaded it with a single strike.
Two third-tier beasts attacked him simultaneously, but he moved between them like the wind, and with two strikes, both fell at the same time.
Five second-tier alien beasts pounced from all directions, nine arcs of electricity exploded around his body, and five charred corpses fell to the ground at the same time.
His swordsmanship was so fast it was impossible to see, yet every movement was breathtakingly fluid.
That wasn't brute force, nor recklessness, but a kind of precision and control that was almost divine.
Every strike was perfectly timed, every movement was executed at the most precise moment, and every release of lightning landed accurately on the most vulnerable spot of the beast.
He was covered in blood, the blood of a strange beast.
The black combat suit was stained dark red, and it was everywhere on my face, hands, and hair.
But his eyes were clearly visible in the live broadcast; those eyes, with their golden luster, shone like two burning stars.
That's not the look an eighteen-year-old student should have.
Those were eyes forged through countless life-and-death experiences, tempered in blood and fire.