69novels Chapter 869 Wheel War
Chapter 869 Wheel War
The thought that if he could help the dragons hold off the humans, he could enter the legendary dragon holy land, absorb pure dragon energy to temper his bones and muscles, and his strength would surely increase by three to five levels! The monkey demon couldn't help but lick his dry lips, his sharp nails carving deep marks into the boulder. He cleared his throat, his voice rough and hoarse like a broken gong: "Everyone, get yourselves together!" He slammed his hand on the boulder, sending pebbles flying. "When we see the humans later, fight them to the death! Anyone who dares to slack off or try to cheat, don't blame me for smashing their head in with this club!"
In truth, it knew perfectly well: the more of its subordinates who died, the better, so that they wouldn't covet its opportunities when they went to the Dragon Clan. Then it could monopolize the sacred land's quota and the dragon's energy, and perhaps even cultivate itself into a Demon Emperor, ruling over all demons.
The human squad was trapped at a pass on the east side of the valley. Of the original forty-odd men, only about twenty remained, all wounded and barely able to stand. The captain at the front leaned on his broken longsword, the blade bent into an eerie arc. His chest heaved violently, each breath aggravating the pain in his ribs. The blood splattered on his face had long since dried and turned black, forming hard scabs, which he hadn't even had time to wipe away.
They had been wandering in this maze for three days. Every time they thought they had found an exit and passed through the fog, they would end up back where they started, as if trapped in an endless loop. Meanwhile, the enemy seemed to keep coming, one wave retreating only to be followed by another. Even these elite soldiers who had crawled out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood were exhausted, their eyes were spinning, their limbs were weak, and they barely had the strength to hold their swords.
A younger team member leaned against the rock wall, his face ashen, his sword askew in the ground. Had he not been against the wall, it would have been out of his hand long ago. His voice was choked with sobs and filled with despair: "Captain... why do I feel like we're going in circles? How big is this hellhole? If this keeps going, we'll die of exhaustion here without even fighting..." Before he could finish, a veteran glared at him fiercely, his eyes like ice, forcing him to swallow the rest of his sentence, "We might as well surrender."
The captain took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the metallic taste in his throat—his internal organs had been shaken when he blocked the bear's giant axe. He forced a smile that looked more like a grimace: "What's the panic! This is a demonic illusion array. The more panicked you are, the easier it is for your mind to be confused and trapped. Hold on a little longer, and once we find the array's core and break it, we can get out!"
Even so, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword trembled slightly—he knew better than anyone that the team's morale was nearing its limit. Their water bottles were empty, their rations were gone, and their pills were exhausted. If they continued like this, they would collapse on their own without the demons even lifting a finger. But he couldn't say it; he was the captain, the backbone of this group. Even if his heart was already ice-cold, he had to put on a brave face.
The wind in the valley carried the stench of blood, swirling up withered leaves and broken hairs, as if playing a mournful prelude to this endless battle.
The human cultivators were overwhelmed by the endless traps lurking within the mist—a sudden collapse of the swamp swallowed two of their companions, sharp spikes falling from above nearly pierced their chests, their path was blocked by an impenetrable white fog, and behind them came the agonizing screams of companions being dragged into the bushes by poisonous vines. Caught between a rock and a hard place, many gripped their magical artifacts tightly, their knuckles white, veins throbbing on their temples, their chests burning with a mixture of rage and fear that threatened to overwhelm their reason.
Just then, the mist suddenly parted with a "whoosh," as if cleaved by a sharp blade, opening a path just wide enough for two people to walk side by side. The black-faced monkey demon, carrying an iron rod as thick as a bowl, led dozens of other demons that leaped out from behind the trees—there were spotted snake demons as thick as bowls, their forked tongues flicking, their scales gleaming eerily in the mist; there were tree spirits dragging vines all over the ground, their withered, branch-like fingers capable of spewing out poisonous thorns; and there were wild boar monsters wielding millstone-sized stone hammers, their tusks dripping with congealed black blood, each baring its teeth and gleaming with ferocity as they blocked the way.
The monkey demon stood in the middle of the road, slamming his iron rod heavily on the ground with a loud thud that sent fallen leaves flying and even made the ground tremble. "Alright, humans, that's enough! The depths of this Misty Forest are forbidden territory for our demon race. You suicidal creatures are not allowed to set foot here! If you know what's good for you, get lost! Don't wait until I've had my fill with this iron rod, or there won't even be any bone fragments left!"
The human leader was a middle-aged cultivator in a purple robe with three short tufts of beard. Already irritated by the exhaustion of the journey, he was enraged when these bastards dared to block his path. He laughed in fury, his longsword whistling as it was drawn from its sheath. The spiritual light flowing across the blade reflected in his eyes, which flashed with a cold glint as he glared at the monkey demon: "You're nothing but a bunch of mountain spirits and wild monsters, daring to make a scene here? In my opinion, the dragon race is just ahead! Take down these bastards, and the dragon cores and scales will be right before your eyes! Kill them!"
Before he finished speaking, he leaped into the air, his longsword transforming into a purple rainbow, whistling sharply as it tore through the mist, aiming straight for the monkey demon's face. The human cultivators, already holding back their energy, saw their leader make his move and they all unleashed their magical artifacts—yellow paper talismans exploded in the air, scattering golden light, several flying swords trailing afterimages as they weaved through the air, and some even raised giant shields covered in runes to charge forward. In an instant, the surge of spiritual energy swept through the entire forest like a raging torrent, even causing the mist to churn.
The monkey demon was no pushover either. It grinned, revealing its sharp teeth, and swung its iron rod to take a sword strike head-on. The crisp clang was deafening, and sparks flew as the monkey demon groaned and staggered back two steps. A chip had been cleaved into the iron rod. It then grinned savagely, revealing its ferocious nature: "Brothers, charge! Tear these humans apart! Tonight, we'll drink their blood and gnaw on their bones!"
Both sides were already furious, and now they were even more reckless, instantly engaging in a fierce battle. The human cultivators were generally more powerful, and amidst the interplay of sword light and rune shadows, lesser demons were frequently cleaved in two with screams, their black blood splattering across the moss-covered stones; but the demon race had the advantage of numbers and an unparalleled familiarity with the terrain—the snake demon darted into the grass, transforming into a blur, and suddenly lunged out to bite at the ankle, its venomous fangs drawing blood and killing instantly; the tree spirits planted their vines into the soil, instantly wrapping around the cultivators' ankles from the ground, forcefully pulling away their magical artifacts; the wild boar monsters, relying on their thick hides, charged recklessly, disrupting the human formation, smashing and breaking the bones of any lone cultivators.
The purple-robed cultivator slashed down a wolf demon that pounced on him with a single sword stroke. As the blade sliced open the wolf's throat, scalding blood splattered all over his face. He was about to turn back to support his junior brother, who was being attacked by snake demons, when he was surrounded by three monkey demons in a triangular formation. Their short clubs flew up and down, targeting his old wounds. As he struggled to defend himself, an iron club struck his shoulder hard. A cracking sound, like bone breaking, rang out, and his blood surged. A metallic taste rose in his throat, and his longsword nearly slipped from his grasp. Only then did he realize that these demons, seemingly chaotic, were actually working in perfect harmony. They had used their numerical advantage to divide their group into several smaller groups, preventing them from supporting each other.