At the command, Divine Calculator's Disciple's people moved as one, each unleashing long-range attacks at Fan Lang from afar.
A group of Middle Gods attacking together was truly extraordinary, like a world-destroying torrent surging toward Fan Lang. Even Fan Lang found it difficult to withstand such an offensive and could only avoid its edge.
Whoosh!
Fan Lang spread his Twelve Flying Wings and shot into the sky, evading part of the attacks while erecting a layer of Digital Shield around himself.
"Even if you cobble together a bunch of nobodies, I'm not afraid of you!" Fan Lang's voice boomed as he gave orders to his own side. "A Zi, General Ruan, Mister Iron Hand, you two join forces with me. The rest of you, focus on protecting yourselves and wait for an opportunity!"
Most of Fan Lang's group possessed the strength of Lower Gods, with few reaching the level of Middle Gods. If they all rushed in together, they would easily suffer losses. Fan Lang did not dare let his people take that risk.
The ones he had called out were all truly formidable.
"I knew there'd be no good days if I went adventuring with you, kid. We ran into a tough battle this quickly." Mister Iron Hand grumbled as the backs of his Mechanical Arms burst open, extending two jet nozzles that sprayed beams of light and generated powerful thrust.
Mister Iron Hand charged out and joined the battle like a humanoid fortress. His arms unleashed all kinds of weapons—guns, cannons, and several bombs—all aimed at Divine Calculator's Disciple's group.
A Zi and Ruan Liangyu attacked as well. One spread wings that blotted out the sky, while the other cracked a Spirit Snake-like long whip. Both were dependable helpers.
"Old Thief Iron Hand, I want your life!"
Enemies