Captured Alive

A series of sharp screeching sounds filled the air as pure psionic energy blasted into the blood pool.

Bloody Mary let out a painful scream, and the bursting waves of blood turned into the resentment of the dead, backfiring on the main body. Countless hands of the dead reached out from the river of blood, tearing at the struggling and resisting perpetrators.

The banshee, who wields immense monstrous blood and is born from terrifying legends, is one of the most powerful forces of the British Round Table. Her blood pools can be used to construct Bulwark, transport armies, and protect soldiers, but they can also drain the blood of enemies, dragging them into eternal darkness to enhance her own power.

The more they fight, the stronger they become; they never tire; it's endless—that's the most terrifying nightmare.

--However, regrettably, throughout her countless years of wreaking havoc, no enemy has ever attacked her using a mental shock technique based on the Helagus Soul Studies.

Therefore, she had absolutely no concept or measures for prevention.

The surging pool of blood continued to explode, Bloody Mary's piercing screams tore through the night, but no one came to alleviate her pain, no one came to save her from her impending doom, for the scales of victory had already tipped.

The explosions of heavy artillery and rockets echoed through the sky. The massive war machine danced majestically in the air, its vector engine nozzles, resembling wings on its back, adjusting their angles to propel Horus in a sweeping, swirling motion. Shoulder cannons, emitting beams of light, swept across the deck, raining down on the ship's hull. Horus then accelerated its thrust, its enchanted, holy-slaying power axe unstoppable, cleaving towards the Death Ship that was flying through the void!

The ghost crew members were instantly killed. Horus swung his great axe, cleaving from the bow to the middle of the ship, chopping the first mate into nothingness with a single blow. He then transformed his cannon into a fiery blast and fired fiercely at the mainmast.

With a deafening roar, even the sturdy and strangely made mainmast could not withstand the enchanted energy bombardment, breaking in half and collapsing violently. The Horus Tomahawk swept across, forcing back the enraged undead. The engine roared, soaring into the sky, then swooped down from high above, unleashing a powerful slash with its giant axe!

Amidst a series of deafening thunderclaps, the steel giant broke through the deck of the Death Ship, cleaved through the keel, and burst out from the bottom of the ship. Horus transformed and flew around, firing his cannons repeatedly, tearing the Death Ship apart from its weakest points: the main body, the side walls, the planks, the mast, the keel—everything!

"I'm going to tear this wrecked ship apart!"

Horus charged again, smashing through the stern Sentry, his roar echoing with the warrior's steely killing intent and fury, "Despicable thief! Hypocritical liar! Rude bastard! Slut!"

The ship of the dead, drifting through the void, lost its power source and plummeted helplessly to the ground. The unique cavalry battle also came to an end. Herne the Hunter, caught in a hail of bullets and surrounded by greenskins, fled in panic and was finally rammed head-on by a dump truck that Kan Fantian.

As it flew through the air, it was stabbed by a warlord leaping into the air with a large machete, and then fired a short burst from the machete's accessory, the Type 89 heavy machine gun. This thing, which was already very much a barbarian, fell into the hands of a real barbarian and was modified from the barrel to the propellant charge, making it incredibly powerful.

The victorious warlord, holding his deerstalked helmet, roared to the sky.

With their commander dead, the Wild Hunt scattered in all directions. Meanwhile, Chopper, who was one of the earliest followers of the Big Mek and is now the absolute leader of the Greenskin Musket Corps Kan Fantian, stood atop a high dump truck, issuing pursuit orders and tactical deployments to his powerful and imposing underlings.

"You little brats!"

The towering cleaver Kan Fantian pointed in the direction the enemies were fleeing.

"Catch them! Kill them all! Come back!"

The green-skinned men howled and slammed on the accelerators, hurtling off in the direction the enemy had fled.

"The battlefield situation has become clear. We have the situation under control and are currently mopping up the remaining enemy forces."

Quilion kept a close eye on the situation in every war zone.

After defeating the enemy with superior forces and special operations, each combat squad immediately went to support their comrades-in-arms. Although they were not superior in terms of numbers or overall combat strength, the art of war is to constantly create local advantages, which is exactly what he had just done.

"A military exercise of slightly higher intensity."

Quilion secretly categorized this regional battle as such.

He gazed at the collapsed giant in the distance. The hunter squad that had taken down the behemoth turned to attack the Black Dog Demon. The giant black dog, held back by two druids, had no advantage whatsoever.

First, it was blocked by four heavy shield guards from two directions with Champion's Charge. Hand of Vasaran, which rose from the ground, clamped its mouth and tail. Two warrior guards activated the earth runes of the Mad Warhammer, charged ten meters to charge, leaped high into the air, and slammed their giant hammers down from the sky, hitting the Black Dog Demon heavily on the waist.

The two beast-transformed druids seized the opportunity and launched their killing blow when the Black Dog Demon was in the most pain and powerless to resist.

The bear-man tore at his neck, severing his throat.

The werewolf rips open the anus, death is imminent.

The primary factor determining victory or defeat is not equipment or individual combat ability, but rich experience, exquisite coordination, and honed combat skills.

On paper, the combined strength of the elven soldiers who hunted giants and hounds was no match for that strange and powerful enemy, but in the blink of an eye, the formidable foe was utterly crushed.

"What a strange enemy... so powerful, yet so fragile."

Quilion's eyes flickered.

They had trained for a long time in that mysterious and silent world, and today they finally carried out their mission. The enemy and the battlefield were beyond their imagination. The elf looked up at the sky; the night sky was shrouded in a dark, celestial canopy of magical obscurations, preventing him from seeing the stars. But Quilion's intuition told him...

This is another planet, another world.

Your Highness Kang De... you are indeed not from Cathayan.

This enormous discovery is of extraordinary significance.

But upon closer reflection, it doesn't seem to have any particularly important significance.

--The destructive power of the Forbidden Spell falling from the sky, the towering pillar of fire rising into the night sky, the aurora that lingered in the sky for a long time, and the power armor on his body—all of this seemed to be Prince Kang De speaking.

He said, "What are you thinking? What use is Dior?"

After a moment of silence, the elf shook his head and chuckled; this was not a topic he needed to focus on. "We have the situation under control and are preparing to launch a powerful assault on the enemy's main fortress—Your Highness, we are working to secure victory for you."

Within the enormous castle, ghostly shadows flitted and flew about everywhere.

The special forces that infiltrated earlier were prepared to create chaos within the enemy ranks and eliminate criminals.

Kill and capture key enemy leaders.

Those Oathkeeper fight to protect their masters and leaders.

The magnificent restaurant had been temporarily converted into a defensive fortification, with the Oathkeeper hiding behind tables, Zhuzi, and counters, preparing to defend against a formidable enemy that would desecrate the glory of the Round Table.

"To defend the glory of the Round Table, today, let us journey together to the underworld!"

The fanatical Oathkeeper, wielding Uzi, shouted fearlessly.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a hunting arrow shot through the wooden door like lightning, striking the Oathkeeper in the right eye. The door burst open with a deafening roar, and the intense flash blinded the creatures. The strong and determined Oathkeeper howled as they closed their eyes and fired, the gunfire echoing back and forth towards the door!

Amidst the violent noise and chaos, the west wall of the restaurant collapsed with a crash. The Suppressors of Rebellion had been incorporated into the action team, threw away their power hammers, drew their pistols, and slid in. Several elven rangers drew their bows and nocked arrows, their eyes gleaming with the light of Detect Life. The bowstrings twanged, and the arrows pierced the air.

"Side!"

The well-trained soldier shouted, "Cover! Cover!"

He rolled to the side behind the bar, where a ranger sneered, grabbed more than ten arrows from his quiver, held them in both hands, and with lightning speed drew his bow, fired, drew his arrow, and fired in rapid succession. The arrows whistled through the air, exploding with a sound, and wood chips flew everywhere from the solid wood counter. After three arrows, the counter collapsed and shattered. The commander was killed by one arrow. The ranger rolled to the side, dodging another man's barrage, and turned to fire an arrow that struck him squarely in the throat.

Footsteps approached from the direction of the kitchen, the door was pushed open, and more Oathkeeper rushed in, howling.

The battle mage, belonging to the Suppressors of Rebellion, grabbed the right arm of the enemy beside him, freezing his right hand—the one holding the gun—with frost. He raised the enemy's arm high, and with his other hand, he fired three shots at the unarmored area under the armpit with his silenced pistol. Then, he released his left hand, raised it, and formed a hand seal. "Repel!"

An enemy three meters away crashed into a pillar, letting out a painful roar. The mage followed up with a series of shots, hitting him in the head. Seeing more enemies surging from the kitchen, he shouted sharply, "Dense fog!"

He drew his staff from his waist and slammed it into the ground.

The billowing black fog swept out, its dense mist, which deprived the Oathkeeper of sight and even, to some extent, blocked out sound, leaving them bewildered. In the darkness, only the eyes of the Suppressors of Rebellion from another world flashed red, outlining the silhouettes of their enemies. Cold arrows were fired silently from all directions, and assassins lurking in the shadows slit throats and pierced hearts, slaughtering these vulnerable humans with unstoppable force.

"Let's call those whose physical abilities surpass those of ordinary people but who are unable to wield supernatural powers 'followers.' These followers also have different levels and abilities, primarily differing in strength and weaponry. Lower-level followers mostly use firearms, while higher-level followers use weapons and armor imbued with supernatural powers, mainly melee weapons. Such enemies are usually..."

The two-handed sword, exuding a bloody aura, flew from his hand and embedded itself in the stone wall of the ceiling. The crescent blade repeatedly slashed horizontally, blood spurting out, limbs severed, bones cracked, and heads were decapitated.

Finally, the elven ranger kicked the headless corpse aside and glanced up at the two-handed sword.

"--It needs to be weaker."

He commented in a low voice that firsthand combat data would be dictated by frontline soldiers to the intelligent devices built into the armor, and would eventually be integrated into Horus's terminal as intelligence research data.

A detailed, accurate, and valuable evaluation will earn you more military merits.

The elf, who had served in the Twilight Moon Fleet's marines, scoffed, "He doesn't even know how to hold a sword, his fighting steps and attack stances are a complete mess, he's not even as good as a forty-year-old elven child."

"Recorded, proceed."

Intense battles raged constantly, and an unimaginable rout occurred at the ancient and glorious headquarters of the Round Table. Arthur, who had already retreated underground with the Hand of Glory, stared wide-eyed, bloodshot. The attacks and offensives were inexplicable; they had no idea who the enemy was or where they came from.

"Your Excellency! We are suffering a crushing defeat—I had no idea! The enemy is highly trained, an army straight out of mythology; we are no match for them! Even the high-ranking Oathkeeper cannot stop them!"

The underground Shelter's surveillance system clearly reflected the utter despair and utter defeat in every location.

Arthur glanced at the knights around him, each of them with an extremely grim expression. A deep-seated hatred flashed in his eyes as he hissed, " --Kang De, it must be Kang De!"

"But how could he have such a weapon..."

"What's the use of wondering about this now? These guys have already appeared! And they must be related to Kang De, otherwise how could they have appeared so silently—it must be Kang De's spatial abilities!"

Arthur roared, "This China man has deceived the whole world! He... he..."

He shut his mouth, his usual calm and composed demeanor gone. The old man trembled as he took off his glasses, his mouth opening and closing several times, but he couldn't utter that heavy sentence.

But someone spoke up for him, "Should we... should we negotiate?"

Arthur suddenly looked up, his eyes dark and crazed.

The castle gates were shattered by the blazing hammer of holy light. The Valentan Guards, wielding their crested shields, charged forward. The external forces had broken through, and the internal melee had reached a fever pitch. The Suppressors of Rebellion charged left and right through the complex terrain and vast castle, clearing out all the enemies.

Arrows pierced the air like the wind. In the narrow corridor, nimble archers leaped and tumbled across the walls and even the ceiling, drawing their bows and firing arrows in rapid succession, closing in on the fearless Oathkeeper.

The last arrow held in his hand was released, felling an enemy who was reloading. The elf rolled and ran on the ground, the long whip stored in his gauntlets stretching out like a venomous snake, wrapping around the last enemy and pulling him down. The elven warrior leaped up like a cheetah, grabbed a feathered arrow from his quiver, and pierced the enemy's eye socket.

Without pausing, he slid to his knees, drew a bloodstained arrow, and with a deft stroke, struck the Oathkeeper charged out from around the corner, yelling and firing. The enemy convulsed and fell. From around the corner came the panicked shouts and retreating footsteps of the enemy, but the life detection field had already revealed everything.

The enemy was forming a firing formation, waiting tensely around the corner.

The elf gave a silent, cold laugh, gripping the warbow in his left hand while a verdant green light appeared in his right. He gently stroked it, and the short bow made of ancient vines seemed to grow spiritually, with green leaves gradually sprouting.

The archer drew his bow without an arrow, aimed straight ahead, and silently recited the name of the moon goddess.

Released, dozens of green leaves shot from the bow, their edges serrated, whistling through the air, sweeping around corners, cutting through like a metal storm, with screams echoing everywhere. The elf drew an arrow from the quiver, infusing it with Magic Power, Flame swirling around it, the arrow piercing the air, guided by an invisible hand, the flames roaring.

Amidst the sounds of explosions, burning flesh, and screams, the faint sound of lightning flashing could be heard. The elf's expression shifted, he drew his bow and crouched down, killing the enemies who were still breathing. He saw a figure approaching from the opposite direction—the same armor, but with different markings. The elf recognized him.

Alset, the infamous Scourger, cruel jailer, and chief torture expert.

Humans and elves faced each other across a corridor. The central passageway led to the main hall of the castle. Life detection spells spotted more than ten enemies waiting at the end of the passageway. The two Suppressors of Rebellion stepped forward simultaneously.

They walked to the center, turned around, and looked at the enemies at the end of the corridor.

More than ten high-ranking Oathkeeper surrounded their leader, an elegant man with a gloomy expression and graying hair, who was toying with a folding knife in his hand.

"I am not questioning the elves' courage and combat skills."

After a moment of silence, Alset said, "But did you recognize him? The important target, Todd, codenamed 'The Barber,' is the enemy His Highness specifically requested to capture alive—so, how about joining forces?"

As he spoke, he tossed the shotgun aside.

The elf nodded silently, put down his warbow, and stood side by side with Alset, assuming the attack stance of Tiger Twelve, with five sharp claw blades extending from his gauntlets.

At the same time, the Barber across from them shouted, "Although I don't know who you are, I know we are the same kind of people. We are all noble beings, living far above mortals. There is no need for us to fight and shed blood. You unknown fellow beings, who are you, and what do you want?"

What is he saying?

"I don't know, maybe it's their language—it doesn't matter."

Alset's voice was deep as he drew a spellbreaker dagger from his waist with his left hand and raised his new wand with his right—a T-shaped multi-functional composite staff designed for close combat by battle mages.

The Scourger gripped the handle of his T-shaped staff, circling it halfway around so that the long end protected his forearm and the outer side glowed with magical shield runes. The spell-breaking dagger, used as a short staff, gathered electricity. He bowed slightly, releasing magical energy from his inner robe, moving as light as the wind, as swift as a leopard, and as powerful as a bear.

Although they couldn't communicate verbally, this gesture already conveyed the answer.

"Then—charge!"

With a roar from the Barber, the Oathkeeper, clad in cursed armor, charged forward.

The spellcaster slammed his fist into the ground, causing the floor to tremble and churn. The elven warrior leaped into the air, gliding and bounding along the walls. The Oathkeeper lost their footing as sharp, venomous claws slashed down.

Alset charged from behind, his Oathkeeper's throat as easily as cutting tofu.

The wind howled fiercely as a longsword slashed down from the side. The mage raised his hand, and the divine shield runes on the outside of his T-shaped staff activated their magical power. The Atmospheric Aegis roared out, deflecting the powerful attack.

The Scourger thrust back, and a Chain Lightning, long charged up, pierced through the bodies of five or six people, briefly paralyzing their strong physiques. His face was solemn, his eyes focused, and he spun the handle with his right hand, the long end of the T-shaped stick sliding out, the inner runes activating, and a frost blunt strike hit one of them squarely in the chest, freezing his heart instantly.

He swung his staff back and struck again on the head. With a flourish of his left dagger, he ripped open the shoulder of another man. He then struck back with his staff, shattering the knees of the other man. In an instant, Frost Nova spread out instantly!

Amidst the shimmering, flying ice flowers, the elf swung her claws, delivering knee strikes and side kicks, slamming two Oathkeeper against the wall. Her claws pierced back and forth rapidly, tearing open streams of blood. Meanwhile, Alset, tearing through those who stood in her way with Frost Nova, leaped and charged across the ice sculptures, her target Todd the Barber!

"--Very good, very good!"

With a formidable foe approaching, Todd was not alarmed but rather delighted, a cruel smile spreading across his face, "I've longed for this day for a long time. Mortal bodies are filthy, fragile, and boring; tearing apart the bodies of the strong is what brings endless sagacity. Since you insist on being my enemy, then I have no choice but to—let you die!"

He clasped his hands together abruptly, and the scimitar that had fallen to the ground rose into the air, slashing towards Alset. One after another, gleaming folding knives slashed out from under the hem of his tailcoat, flying like swallows, a bloodthirsty frenzy!

Todd charged forward, laughing and roaring wildly.

The Scourger's expression was cold and fierce. His magic-breaking dagger drew invisible runes in the void. At that moment, the elven warrior picked up two shattered enemies and hurled them towards Alset!

Corpses flew through the air, crashing into Todd beside Alset. The Scourger's spell was nearing its end, and a massive amount of blood seeped from the shattered remains, forming a blood-stained barrier between Todd and him. The flying sword and razor, stained with blood, immediately developed rust patterns and fell helplessly to the ground.

Alset charged forward with a fierce sprint, his figure transforming into a streak of light. Todd retreated several steps, once again manipulating the Razor to protect himself, preparing for close combat. However, the corpse not far away suddenly sprang up, rushing forward silently with the speed of a wild beast, and biting Todd's thigh!

The Barber roared in pain as the razor slashed down. The empty-eyed corpse, fearless, pressed down on Todd's right hand with both hands, pinning him against the wall.

To Todd was horrified to discover that the other's hands had melted into a green gel, firmly sticking his right hand to the wall. In the distance, the elf's hands were outstretched, shimmering with green light.

--And at that moment, the people on the other side had already charged in!

In his panic, he struggled desperately, shouting, "Wait!"

He only saw a pair of indifferent eyes beneath the helmet.

The magic-breaking dagger pierced through the gelatinous skin and into his palm. Alset's eyes were cold as he slid the dagger up Todd's arm, cutting through flesh and blood as blood gushed out.

Todd screamed in agony as he desperately tried to manipulate the razor with his powers, but the T-shaped staff cut off a short handle, Scourger gripped the staff like a fist, striking Todd's head with tremendous force.

The short-ended staff, its core surging with magical energy, interfered with Todd's mental consciousness. Todd's head jolted as if electrocuted. The Scourger pulled out a dagger and stabbed it at his collarbone. The staff struck his ribs, then his shoulder, neck, elbow, thigh, and lower back. In an instant, blood splattered, and the sound of bones cracking filled the air. Under the gaze of the Eye of True Seeing, all the energy points in Todd's body were sealed and imprisoned!

The Barber, now reduced to a cripple, struggled in agony, then slid helplessly to the ground, letting out a painful roar.

"The target has been imprisoned and is being injected with Paradox Element; teleportation is possible at any time."

Alset crouched down and plunged the purple-glowing crystal into the back of Todd's neck.

"This can't be, it can't be... Why is this happening? I... I'm clearly better than you..."

With a swing of his dagger, the Spellbreaker slashed aside the opponent's struggling right hand, and Alset kicked him unconscious, ending his incessant, nonsensical ramblings.

From beginning to end, the Scourger had no idea what the other person was shouting.

He turned away indifferently, joined the elf, and set off forward.

"A lousy apprentice."

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PS1: Whew... that felt great, gotta go.