[Countdown: 05:00]

  The silver pillar of light was not static; it churned like an inverted galaxy, frantically devouring the dark, damp, motor-oil-scented air around it.

  At the center of this absolute brilliance, the neigh of a warhorse exploded like a dragon's roar. The sound waves manifested as physical ripples, shattering the accumulated water on the ground into concentric circles of fine mist.

  "Neighhhh—!"

  Immediately after, a snow-white warhorse, its four hooves wreathed in azure spirit fire, leaped from the column of light.

  The rider was eight feet tall, possessing a majestic countenance. He wore no modern, fully enclosed tactical helmet; instead, his hair was bound in a warrior's bun topped with a crown, and he was clad in silver armor draped with a white robe. Under the erratic sweeping of the searchlights, his armor flowed with a mercury-like sheen, every scale seemingly breathing, radiating a suffocating aura of slaughter.

  In his hand, he gripped a long spear. The shaft coiled like a silver serpent, the tip a single point of cold light that seemed to condense all the sharpness in the world.

  Changban’s Hero, Zhao Zilong.

  He descended into this dirty wharf of cyborgs, neon lights, and heavy machine guns like a deity stumbling into a rusted hell.

  Zhao Yun reined in his mount. The divine steed, known as the "Jade Lion of the Night," reared up, its front hooves smashing the concrete floor. He narrowed his long, phoenix-like eyes, sweeping over the steel behemoths surrounding him. There was not a shred of fear for this unknown technology in his gaze—only disdain.

  "Where is my Lord?"

  Zhao Yun’s voice wasn't loud, yet it pierced through the ear-splitting sirens, resonating directly within John’s mind.

  John Doe stood less than two meters from the warhorse. The gale force winds nearly blinded him, but he forced his head up, raising the scorching iPad and pointing toward the warehouse that looked like a steel fortress.

  "In there! Save them!"

  John screamed, his voice cracking from extreme tension.

  Zhao Yun glanced at this "New Lord"—ragged clothes, face caked in mud, legs trembling. He asked no questions, nor did he question the qualifications of this scrawny young man.

  A general's loyalty lies in the contract, and in the meeting of eyes in that single instant.

  Deep in John’s bloodshot, fear-constricted pupils, Zhao Yun saw a flame named "No Retreat."

  "This General accepts the order."

  Zhao Yun flicked his wrist. The Dragon Courage Silver Spear drew a perfect arc in the air, emitting a shrill, tearing whistle.

  "Soldiers! Charge the formation with me!"

  Though it was just one man and one horse, his roar carried the momentum of a thousand armies.

  [Countdown: 04:50]

  The moment combat erupted, it hit its climax.

  "High-energy spirit signature detected! Threat Level: S! Fire! Fire!"

  The mercenaries guarding the warehouse perimeter panicked. They had never seen an entity that violated the laws of physics like this. But professional instinct took over, and they squeezed their triggers.

  Rat-a-tat-tat-tat—!

  Dozens of heavy assault rifles spat tongues of fire simultaneously. A dense rain of tracer rounds poured toward the lone rider.

  John instinctively wanted to crouch and cover his head. It was the ingrained fear of a lower-class civilian facing thermal weaponry.

  But he didn't crouch.

  Because of the cruel restriction of the [God-Tier Summoning Ticket]: Must fight side-by-side; distance cannot exceed ten meters.

  If he crouched, if he retreated, Zhao Yun would vanish. Mom would die.

  "I'm not afraid... I'm not afraid..." John bit his lip until he tasted rusty blood, using the pain to lock his legs in place, sticking dead to the horse’s flank.

  "Paltry tricks!"

  Facing the wall of bullets, Zhao Yun didn't even decelerate.

  The long spear in his hand began to dance.

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  It wasn't spearmanship anymore; it was a silver storm. The tip moved faster than the naked eye could track, forming an impenetrable silver shield of light in mid-air.

  Clang-clang-clang-clang—!

  Bullets struck the curtain of the spear, spraying countless sparks, yet not a single round could penetrate the defense. The armor-piercing rounds, capable of tearing through steel plates, were effortlessly deflected by that thick "Qi," falling harmlessly at John’s feet.

  "Impossible?! Those are kinetic weapons!" Grace’s shocked scream came through the earpiece. "He’s violating ballistics!"

  "He's Zhao Yun! He IS the principle!" John roared. Utilizing the gap while Zhao Yun blocked the bullets, he furiously operated the iPad. "Grace! Mark the sniper tower on the left! There's a hidden sentry!"

  "Roger! Target highlighted!"

  In his vision, a red skull marker lit up on the left crane tower.

  Before John could shout a warning, Zhao Yun seemed to have eyes in the back of his head.

  "Strike!"

  Amidst the high-speed charge, holding the reins with one hand, he violently swept the spear to the left. A crescent-shaped wave of silver energy—Spear Aura—detached from the tip, tearing through the rain curtain. It crossed fifty meters instantly, slashing precisely into the support pillar of the crane.

  BOOM!

  The steel frame was sliced like tofu. The crane collapsed with a crash, burying the sniper in the wreckage before he could even scream.

  [Countdown: 04:10]

  The perimeter defense was torn apart in seconds.

  But the real threat was just beginning.

  Thud! Thud! Thud!

  The ground shook. Two five-meter-tall "Titan" class walking mechs stepped out from behind the shipping containers.

  They were the Necromancy Guild's ground warfare aces. Heavy composite armor coated in anti-magic paint, a massive hydraulic claw on the left arm, and a six-barreled Gatling rotary cannon on the right.

  "Target locked. Eliminate."

  A cold electronic voice sounded.

  The Gatling guns began to spin up, emitting a tooth-aching hum.

  Facing these steel behemoths, the Jade Lion of the Night didn't panic. Instead, the divine steed snorted two jets of white mist in excitement.

  "Iron puppets?"

  Zhao Yun scoffed coldly, his legs clamping the horse's sides.

  "Hah!"

  The white horse turned into a streak of light. Instead of retreating, it charged straight at the two Titan mechs.

  "John! Keep up!" Zhao Yun’s voice boomed like a great bell.

  John looked at the spinning cannons. His stomach convulsed violently, and the dizziness from his hemophobia blurred his vision. But he fixed his eyes on Zhao Yun’s silver back—his only lighthouse on this battlefield of death.

  "AAAAAHHHH!"

  John let out a roar to embolden himself. Gripping that ridiculous scalpel, he stumbled and sprinted wildly behind the horse.

  Zzzzt—BOOM!

  The mechs opened fire.

  This time, it wasn't bullets. It was high-explosive grenades.

  Fire swallowed the silver figure.

  "Hit confirmed!" The mech pilot shouted in excitement.

  But in the next second, the smoke was cleaved apart by a sharp gale.

  A point of cold light arrives first, then the spear shoots out like a dragon!

  Zhao Yun, man and horse as one, actually stepped on the shockwave of the explosion and leaped into the air. He soared to the height of the first Titan mech’s head, the Dragon Courage Silver Spear emitting a blinding blue light.

  "Hundred Birds! Paying Homage to the Phoenix!"

  Swish swish swish swish swish!

  In that instant, John felt like he saw countless silver phoenixes blooming in the night sky.

  Zhao Yun thrust his spear a hundred times in a tenth of a second. Every strike landed precisely on the same spot—the visual sensor located in the armor's seam.

  Crack!

  The bulletproof glass shattered. The spear tip, carrying unrivaled piercing power, punched straight through the cockpit and exited out the back of the mech’s head.

  Rumble!

  Sparks flying, the first mech collapsed to its knees like a mountain crumbling.

  John arrived just at the mech’s feet. Massive metal debris crashed around him, splashing mud onto his face.

  He didn't stop. He couldn't stop.

  His lungs felt like they were exploding, his heart hammering against his ribs hard enough to crack them. But he realized he hadn't fainted.

  On this edge of extreme life and death, something called "Courage" was slowly squeezing out the space occupied by fear.

  He looked up at the silver-armored God of War dancing in the steel jungle.

  "This is... an S-Class Heroic Spirit..."

  John’s eyes no longer held despair, but a fanaticism he had never known before.

  "Watch your back!" John screamed suddenly, guided by Grace’s radar.

  The second Titan mech had flanked to the rear. Its massive hydraulic claw swung with the sound of a howling gale, smashing viciously toward Zhao Yun, who had just landed.

  It was a perfect ambush.

  Zhao Yun was at the point where his old force was spent, and new force had yet to generate.

  "My Lord, watch closely!"

  Zhao Yun didn't even turn his head. He slammed the butt of his spear into the ground, using the leverage to vault the horse into an impossible mid-air lateral drift.

  The hydraulic claw smashed into the ground, missing the horse’s tail by inches, gouging a massive crater.

  And borrowing this leverage, Zhao Yun flipped 180 degrees on the horse's back.

  The Returning Horse Spear!

  "BREAK!"

  This strike held no fancy technique, only pure power and speed.

  The spear shaft bent into a shocking arc, then snapped straight. The body of the spear whipped ruthlessly into the joint of the mech’s mechanical arm.

  CLANG—!!!

  A metal impact loud enough to shatter eardrums.

  That mechanical arm, thicker than Zhao Yun’s waist, was sheared clean off by the spear! Hydraulic fluid sprayed out like arterial blood.

  "Monster... it's a monster..." The mech pilot completely broke down.

  [Countdown: 03:15]

  Two mechs—one destroyed, one crippled.

  The perimeter was clear.

  Zhao Yun retracted his spear. The white horse landed steadily. Aside from some mud on its hooves, the silver armor remained spotless.

  He turned his head to look at John, who came running up, gasping for air.

  "My Lord, have you strength remaining?" The corner of Zhao Yun’s mouth lifted, revealing a hint of approving laughter.

  John braced his hands on his knees, heaving in breaths, tasting blood in his throat. He looked at the wreckage covering the ground, then at the warehouse door right in front of them.

  He straightened his back. Though his legs still trembled, his eyes were frighteningly bright.

  "Yes."

  John wiped the mud from his face. "As long as I'm not dead, I have strength."

  Zhao Yun nodded. The long spear in his hand pointed toward the tightly shut warehouse door.

  Behind that door lay deeper darkness, stronger enemies, and the person he had to save.

  "In that case."

  The light in Zhao Yun’s eyes surged, killing intent boiling over once more.

  "Then follow me... and we shall kill our way in!"

  BOOM!

  The warhorse launched again, turning into a silver bolt of lightning, smashing viciously into the heavy steel gate.

  The five-minute countdown was still ticking.

  The real bloodbath had only just begun.

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