The center of gravity on the left has shifted.
The right hand had fully gripped the hilt of the knife.
The flight path in the sky showed an extremely slight deviation.
Ye Mo's pupils contracted sharply, and the string in his mind snapped.
This wasn't a test, nor a feint; they were really going to make a move.
The three dark figures moved almost simultaneously—the one on the left wing seemed to be pulled forward by an invisible line, the one crouching on the right front sprang up from the ground, its blade drawing an Arclight; the one in the sky was even more ruthless, its aircraft suddenly diving down at a speed so fast that even its afterimage couldn't be straightened.
A rain of arrows followed, the black arrowheads gleaming with a ghostly blue poisonous light, interspersed with several twisted dark magic waves, exploding in the air into a net-like pattern, blocking all evasive routes. The entire battlefield seemed to have been fast-forwarded, while the three of them were still stuck on the loading screen.
Ye Mo wanted to shout, but his throat was too dry to make a sound. In his current state, most of his Steel Bone were shattered, his right leg was useless, and his left arm was bleeding profusely. He was only able to stay upright by supporting himself against a stone pillar. Let alone dodge, he could barely lift his hand.
But just as the three leaders leaped out, his sensory system suddenly buzzed.
It wasn't an illusion; it was that familiar feeling of data fragments churning in my mind—like when I used to sense Emma Frost's mental fluctuations and could vaguely capture the elongated feeling of her thoughts stretching out; or like the subtle pause in the air before Shadowcat Wall Phasing.
These two fragments had been lying in a corner of the second floor of the Gene Spiral Tower, ignored by everyone.
But now, they're moving on their own.
Almost instinctively, Ye Mo forced his consciousness inward, piecing the two fragments of ability back together. Only one thought occupied his mind: Slow down!
A sharp pain immediately erupted.
It wasn't a headache; it felt like his skull was being torn apart by two saws. His ears were filled with a high-frequency buzzing, and his vision was becoming blurry, like the static and ghosting of an old television with a bad signal. But he gritted his teeth and didn't let up, continuing to press down hard on the connection point between the two fragments.
Then, the world really did slow down.
It wasn't static, nor was it bullet time like in a movie; rather... everyone's movements seemed to be soaked in thick syrup. The figure rushing towards them on the left left afterimages with every step they took; the trajectories of incoming arrows became clearly discernible, and you could even see the frequency of the arrow tails trembling; the guy diving in the sky had the flames from his aircraft's nozzle leaping forward in segments.
Time didn't stop, but Ye Mo's perception quickened.
He's like a high-frame-rate camera watching a bunch of humans playing a low-spec game at 30 frames per second.
"Holy crap... it really worked?" His heart skipped a beat, and he almost lost his connection due to his surprise.
No, it can't collapse.
He forced himself to calm down and quickly scanned the battlefield. Emma Frost was still standing there with her eyes closed, but her brows were furrowed tightly, clearly trying to shield herself from detection; Thor stood on the other side, a faint spark of electricity gathering at the tip of Mjolnir, yet to be released.
Both of them were in a "standby" state, ready to move at the slightest signal.
Ye Mo immediately constructed a command in his mind—not language, but a short, high-frequency wave mimicking a system notification—and unleashed a mental shockwave directly towards Emma Frost: "Now! Left three, right forward crouch, fly low in the sky—focus fire!"
He wasn't idle either; he kicked off the stone pillar behind him, dragging his crippled right leg, and rolled sideways to the left. In reality, the movement was pitifully slow, but in his perception, it was already the limit of his explosive power.
As he rolled away from the three-meter distance, he noticed that the wound on his left hand had reopened, and blood was splattered all the way, but he didn't care.
As soon as he landed, he yelled, " Thor! Thirty degrees to the left!"
The moment the sound was emitted, time returned to normal.
The world came back with a "snap".
The high-speed rain of arrows resumed its rhythm, blasting the spot where he had just stood, creating a patch of scorched earth. A wave of black magic grazed Emma Frost's head, burning away a few strands of hair on her forehead. The leader, swooping down from the sky, was now less than ten meters away, its blade raised high, ready to strike.
But that short delay of less than two seconds was enough.
Emma Frost opened her eyes almost reflexively, her body instantly transforming into Diamond Form. A semi-transparent crystal shield popped open with a "bang," perfectly blocking the fatal blow coming from the left. The blade struck the shield, sparks flying, and she was jolted back half a step, but didn't fall.
Thor's side also made a move.
He had originally aimed straight ahead, but upon hearing Ye Mo's shout, he almost instinctively tilted the hammer thirty degrees to the left. Lightning shot out along the handle of the hammer, striking the shoulder armor of the leader to his right with a "crack." The man, who had already leaped into the air, was jolted by the electric current, his blade deflected, and he slammed heavily to the ground, sending up a ring of gravel.
The one in the sky is the most tragic.
He had originally gone deep into enemy territory alone, preparing to dive and kill, but the coordination between his left and right flanks was completely disrupted. Emma Frost blocked the left flank, Thor attacked the right flank, but he had no one to support him. In the instant of the flash of lightning, he instinctively braked and turned sharply. The aircraft flipped sideways to barely avoid the attack, but the shockwave still threw him off course. In the end, he could only pull up awkwardly and circle again.
A three-pronged attack completely dismantled the enemy.
The ordinary Dark Elves below were also dumbfounded.
They had been advancing according to their planned formation, but when the three leaders attacked simultaneously, they all missed their targets, their movements clearly misaligned, making it seem as if someone had changed the battle plan at the last minute. For a moment, no one dared to advance rashly, and the encirclement's rhythm stalled.
Ye Mo lay on the ground, panting like a fish thrown ashore.
His temples throbbed, the tinnitus grew worse, and the wound on his left hand reopened from the roll, blood dripping from his fingertips. He tried to sit up, but as soon as he raised his arm, his entire arm trembled.
"Alright... just once... that's enough..." he muttered under his breath, his teeth grinding together.
He knew this tactic couldn't last. Those two seconds hadn't just drained his physical strength; it was more like overclocking his brain like a CPU. Doing it again might result in brain death on the spot.
But he also knew that those two seconds had saved three lives.
Emma Frost's shield hadn't dissipated yet, and her face was pale, clearly indicating that blocking that attack had taken a lot of effort. She glanced at Ye Mo, her lips moved but she didn't speak, but her eyes changed—no longer the worried "Can you still hold on?" but the shock of "What did you just do?"
Thor put down his hammer, flicked his wrist, looked up at the enemy still circling in the sky, and sneered, "Who taught you that? Your on-the-spot command is quite accurate."
Ye Mo didn't reply, but simply raised his hand to wipe the mixture of sweat and blood from his face, his knuckles numb.
He knew that the hardest part was yet to come.
The enemy's rhythm was disrupted, but they weren't seriously injured. The three leaders only suffered a loss; they didn't fall. Once they recover, the next attack will only be more devastating.
Moreover, in his current state, he can't even stand up, let alone Time Manipulation again.
But he cannot fall.
As long as he's still standing, even if he's kneeling or crawling, we have to keep watching.
He forced himself to look up and refocus on those three directions.
The one on the left had already steadied himself, the tip of his blade against the ground, and was adjusting his breathing; the one on the right in front was clutching his smoking shoulder armor, his eyes filled with malice; the one in the sky had circled around a large circle and was slowly descending again.
They are reorganizing.
Ye Mo's throat was dry, and his fingers dug into the ground, his fingernails filled with dust.
He knew that next time, he wouldn't have another chance to prove himself.
But just then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Thor quietly move his hammer half a step behind him, and lightning re-condensed on the edge of the hammer's surface; Emma Frost's shield had thinned, but she was positioned perfectly to block the left blind spot, clearly waiting for the next opportunity.
They didn't back down.
Then there's no need to be a coward.
Ye Mo took a deep breath, took the remnant of the reflective film out of his pocket, and held it in his palm. It was only the size of a fingernail left, and the edges were all worn rough, but it might still be useful for bluffing.
He stared at the slowly descending figure in the sky, his lips moving silently: Come on, I'm waiting.
The enemy aircraft was still fifteen meters above the ground.
Fine cracks began to appear at the edges of Emma Frost's shield.
The electric current at the tip of Thor's hammer changed from blue to white.