Fierce Clash, Falling into a Bitter Battle

Hu Shu watched as the Great Witches of the Witch Tribe led their army to charge again, knowing in his heart that this would be an even tougher battle. He turned to look at the exhausted but determined faces of the Human Race and the people of Qingyan Valley beside him, shouting loudly, "Brothers, sisters, we have no retreat, only a fight!" Everyone responded in unison, gripping their weapons tightly, and charged towards the Witch Tribe's army once more. A more tragic battle began.

Below Shouyang Mountain, the Witch Tribe's witchcraft rained down densely like raindrops. Brilliant yet deadly beams of light intertwined in mid-air, emitting chilling howls. Wherever the light touched, the ground instantly tore apart, giant rocks were blasted to smithereens, and dust flew everywhere. The Defensive Formations set up by the Human Race and smaller factions rippled under the fierce assault, looking as if they could shatter at any moment.

Hu Shu stood within the Invincible Domain, large beads of sweat constantly rolling down his forehead. He gritted his teeth, rapidly forming hand seals with both hands, doing his best to maintain the domain's operation. At the edge of the domain, the power of witchcraft continuously struck, emitting "sizzling" sounds, as if countless invisible hands were desperately tearing at it. While maintaining the domain, he scanned the battlefield with sharp eyes, trying to find a single flaw in the Witch Tribe's impenetrable attack.

The people of the Human Race and the members of Qingyan Valley, relying on the dual protection of the Defensive Formation and the Invincible Domain, temporarily held their ground. However, the Witch Tribe's offensive was simply too ferocious. Despite the protection, people were still getting injured. A young man from the Human Race had his long sword knocked away by the power of witchcraft. Immediately after, a beam of light struck his shoulder, and blood instantly stained his clothes. He grunted but stubbornly picked up his sword and continued to fight.

An elder from Qingyan Valley waved his staff, releasing waves of green light that countered the Witch Tribe's witchcraft. But as time passed, his movements gradually slowed. The depletion of his Spiritual Power caused his forehead to become covered in wrinkles, and his breathing grew rapid.

Hu Shu knew that this situation wouldn't last. He had to take the initiative to find a weakness. He seized an opportunity, his figure flashing like a black lightning bolt as he charged towards the Witch Tribe's army. The long sword in his hand, gleaming with light, was instantly unsheathed. Runes flickered on the blade as it pierced towards a Witch Tribe warrior with a sharp momentum. That Witch Tribe warrior reacted with extreme speed, blocking Hu Shu's fierce strike horizontally with his bone club. With a loud "clang," sparks flew. Hu Shu felt a numbness in his arm.

Just then, the surrounding Witch Tribe warriors swarmed over, encircling Hu Shu. Hu Shu, however, was unfazed. His long sword danced in his hands, forming an impenetrable sword screen that temporarily blocked the Witch Tribe's attack. But the Witch Tribe's encirclement tightened, and Hu Shu's pressure grew.

In other parts of the battlefield, the allied forces of the Human Race and Qingyan Valley were also struggling to hold on. The Defensive Formation's light grew dimmer, and it trembled with every impact of witchcraft. A disciple of Qingyan Valley, while fending off witchcraft, was accidentally struck in the leg by a beam of light and fell to the ground. A Human Race warrior nearby saw this, rushed over, helped him up, and the two stood back-to-back, continuing to resist the Witch Tribe's attack.

Hu Shu fought the surrounding Witch Tribe warriors while observing the entire battlefield out of the corner of his eye. He noticed that every time the Witch Tribe launched a large-scale witchcraft attack, there was a brief interval. Although this interval was extremely short, if the timing was right, it might become the key to counterattack.

However, the Witch Tribe seemed to have also sensed that Hu Shu was looking for their weakness, and their attacks became even more fierce and compact. Within the Witch Tribe's encirclement, Hu Shu gradually sustained some wounds, and blood stained his clothes.

As time wore on, the battle devolved into a bitter struggle. The casualties of the Human Race and smaller factions gradually increased. The battlefield was filled with a thick scent of blood, a pungent smell that made one feel nauseous. The sounds of shouting and screams intertwined, like a tragic war song.

Hu Shu looked at the companions falling around him, his heart filled with both grief and anxiety. He knew he had to find the Witch Tribe's weakness as soon as possible to turn the tide of the battle, otherwise, they would hardly be able to hold on in this difficult fight. But the Witch Tribe's attacks were like an endless tide, and the brief interval became harder and harder to catch, the situation growing increasingly perilous