Misaligned Force Aids, Great Defeat to the Alien Vanguard

The iron shard was still vibrating, its direction unchanged.

Chen Wuya stared at it, his palm burning hot. That vibration came neither from mechanisms nor footsteps, but from a slow, steady advance, as though something were crawling beneath the earth. He glanced down at where the iron shard was hidden against his chest. The cloth was already soaked through with sweat, clinging tightly to his skin.

"Not a retreat route," he said quietly. "An ambush."

Bai Zhi moved closer, her voice lowered to a near whisper. "You're sure?"

"Misaligned Force is trembling." He raised his right hand, his fingertips quivering slightly. The remnants of True Qi flowed backward through his meridians, as if something were drawing them along. "This feeling... it's just like practicing the Canglang Art in reverse. The more wrong it feels, the clearer it becomes."

She asked no further questions, merely nodding lightly.

The dust in the valley had yet to settle. The enemy army was trapped amid rolling boulders and falling logs, its formation torn apart, its commander down, its banners toppled. But they were not finished yet. The archers on the southern slope had not lowered their bows, and the reserve force on the northern cliff remained on standby. As long as someone on the enemy side could rise and sound the horn, this battle would have to continue.

They could wait no longer.

Chen Wuya abruptly looked up and sent three palm blasts toward the high ground. The force of his palms twisted into spirals, tracing irregular arcs through the air—this was a signal unique to Misaligned Force. The new king of the foreign tribes saw it and immediately raised a hand. The reserve force began to advance.

"We strike first." Chen Wuya drew his sword. It remained mostly sheathed, revealing only three inches