Night dew still clung to Chen Wuya's fingertips, and the chaotic true qi in his palm had yet to disperse. Firelight flickered in the mountain hollow, while dust and smoke had not yet settled. He stood where he was, his left arm blue-black, veins bulging like snakes slithering beneath his skin. That palm strike had already pushed the counterforce to its limit, but he knew the true killing intent was only just beginning.
The ballista platform above trembled faintly. Its firing rate had become erratic, but it had not stopped. Several deflected flaming bolts shot out at an angle, piercing the shadows atop the cliff and pinning themselves into a gray-robed man's shoulder blade. He let out a muffled groan and toppled halfway out from a crack in the rocks, the mechanism lever falling from his hand. Immediately afterward, a second bolt scraped past the winch's central axle. The shriek of grinding metal exploded through the air, and the enormous boulder on the right suddenly tilted, wedging itself between the rock walls and leaving a gap barely wide enough for one person to squeeze through sideways.
Bai Zhi lowered her sword tip slightly, her gaze sweeping upward. She did not move, but her toes had quietly retreated half a step, ready to meet an attack at any moment.
"It's not over yet," Chen Wuya said in a low voice.
The moment his words fell, the ground began to quake again. Three rows of chevaux-de-frise sprang up at once, but their positions were no longer the same as before—not random ambushes, but a triangular formation locking onto the heart of the group. Stranger still, the hooked iron chains did not shoot out as usual. Instead, they slowly rose into the air, twisting into a web as though some living creature were