This puppet's skeleton was forged from bronze, while its body was made from a combination of steel and wood. Smooth iron spheres were embedded in joints such as its knees and elbows. Its mechanical core was covered by an engraved bronze plate, and it held a bloodstained steel saber.
It looked like a fine butcher for slaughtering pigs—no, at a glance, it was clearly a formidable saber wielder.
Fire Masters were melee-class professions. Though they lacked exaggerated defenses and monstrous regenerative abilities, melee professions possessed robust physiques and vigorous vitality. Even after sustaining fatal wounds, they could cling to life for a long time and would not die easily.
But Red Chicken Bro gradually stopped struggling. His spine had been severed, leaving him unable to move even if he wanted to. His limbs twitched faintly; half his life was already gone, and the other half was rapidly slipping away.
Perhaps it was because their cognition had changed. If they believed they were pigs, then they truly were nothing more than pigs.
Pig squeals rose all around them. Timid Asano Ryo let out a scream. "Red Chicken Bro is dead! Run!!"
The pigs scattered in a panic, darting wildly through the stone cavern.
The scene was both absurd and comical. It was hard to imagine that the young geniuses of the lawful camp would one day flee for their lives in such forms, panting "snort, snort" as they ran.
But Zhang Yuanqing could not laugh at all. A grave crisis had descended upon them.
No matter how formidable a profession was, no matter how powerful an item was, neither could withstand a single slash from the enemy. They were pigs now; one slash to the neck, and they would die just like that.
Zhang Yuanqing suddenly pounced on Sun Miaomiao as