A mere moment later, Zhang Yu arrived beneath the ruined city. The short evil god believers within, with their gray, wrinkled skin, sensed his arrival. The city gates immediately swung open, and a squad of more than thirty believers, led by a chieftain, charged out with howls.
But after their chieftain was casually cut down by a single stroke of Zhang Yu's sword, the remaining evil god believers instantly lost all will to fight. Throwing down their weapons, they fled back even faster, and the city gates, clearly patched up, slammed shut with a boom.
Zhang Yu proceeded forward without haste. Before long, several evil god believers poked their heads over the city walls and pulled out fireguns, firing wildly at him with sharp cracks.
In addition, several cannons positioned on the walls began booming, but their shells all veered dozens of yards away.
At a glance, they were nothing more than a rabble.
The occasional shot that struck him was blocked by a shimmering layer of light, each bullet dropping as if it had lost all strength, bouncing and rolling into the dust.
Ignoring these disordered attacks, he strolled onward until he reached the city gate. He lightly pressed out a hand, and with a boom, the entire heavy gate flew away. A group of evil god believers hiding behind it were sent flying together by the hurtling gate, which then crashed down onto the open ground, wrapped in a mangled mass of blood and flesh.
There were at least a thousand evil god believers in the city, yet not a single one dared appear before him again. All of them shrieked and scattered in flight.
Zhang Yu shifted his gaze to the tallest structure in the city. It was the only palace that remained relatively intact, likely once