A deafening boom rang out. When the smoke and dust cleared, a deep crater had appeared. The oil-fueled catapult lay in pieces, its frame scattered across the ground.
Han Dang was hiding here with a group of soldiers. He waited for Sun Jian and his troops to rush past, then let the foremost and most concentrated part of Fei Qian's forces go by before suddenly springing up with his soldiers and cutting the pursuing army in two.
Leiting plus rapid strikes, flames plus Sword Qi, with the occasional Crescent Moon Slash—Qing Qian attacked without pause.
Now! Lin Wei's eyes widened, and two terrifying beams of light shot from them. At the same time, he spun around and thrust his right index finger upward. A force even more savage and immense than before burst from his fingertip.
But that was as far as he went. He could bring himself to be "in a hurry," but if he really had to steel himself to kill an official and rebel, he didn't dare.
"I don't care who brought you here. I refuse to accept this! I want to have a Shoku-geki with you. If I win, you get out!" The bald man's face flushed red, his features twisting.
To reap such a great harvest on the first day of the new year gave him confidence that he would gain even more over the year ahead. This was destined to be a year of abundance—and the year he began to rise.
The brittle branches kept crackling underfoot as a sizable group marched in a long line through the desolate Plague Forest.
Locke could tell this was the Sunwell ruins where they had fought earlier. The huge pit in the middle, where Darkan had drawn out the Sunwell's magical essence, had now been completely covered