Temporarily Escaping the Predicament: Breaking Through and Continuing the Pursuit of the Alien Race

From the corner of his eye, Chen Wuya saw the figure raise a hand. Almost at the same instant, he threw himself forward. The short blade skimmed along the ground, struck a piece of rubble, and rebounded with pinpoint force into the side joint of a gray-robed man's knee. The man's movement suddenly stalled, and the palm strike that had been about to take shape came to an abrupt halt.

The other two had intended to strike in unison, but because their force paths depended on coordination, their rhythm was thrown into instant disarray. Their spines twisted even more violently, as though something inside them were tearing at their meridians. A low, muffled sound spilled from one man's throat, and blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

"Go!" Chen Wuya roared, his voice ripping through the stagnant air like torn cloth.

Bai Zhi did not hesitate. She pressed down with the tip of her sword, spun around, and dashed toward the rock crevice. Two soldiers hoisted the wounded man between them and followed close behind. The old soldier was the last to leap into the gap. Before entering, he looked back at Chen Wuya, saw that he was still standing where he was, and frowned—but he did not stop.

Chen Wuya drew a deep breath and drove his feet down hard. Instead of retreating, he advanced a step toward the three gray-robed men. The instant he closed his eyes, a line of judgment flashed through his mind: "Error Simulation—Flowing Cloud Step · Reverse Sequence Operation."

When he opened his eyes again, his steps were crooked and stumbling. His left foot dragged across the ground, his right shoulder sagged, and he swayed like a drunkard. Yet every step he took landed precisely outside the "reasonable trajectories" in his opponents' perception.