One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds passed, and the bomb was still sliding, the purple flames gathering stronger and stronger on Ronan's warhammer, like a thundercloud about to explode. Ye Mo stared at the falling device, his eyes unblinking. He knew that the slightest mistake would mean total defeat—either they would die, or Ronan would rush over unscathed and smash them all into mincemeat.
He didn't send any more messages, nor did he try to think about "what if it fails." At a time like this, overthinking would only make things worse. He only remembered one thing: that last mental link had taken too much to handle, and now his head was buzzing, like a swarm of bees holding a concert inside. But he couldn't collapse, at least not now.
Just as the bomb was five meters from the ground, Ronan finally realized something was wrong. He looked up sharply, his warhammer turned towards the sky, and purple flames erupted, sending an energy wave straight up, about to hit the bomb.
But it was too late.
boom--!!!
The explosion came faster than the sound. A blinding white light burst from the point of impact, followed by a deafening roar. The shockwave swept out like a wall, evaporating debris, cracking rock layers, and even tearing open space itself. The shockwave spread in a ring, moving so fast that there was no time to react.
Star-Lord's ship was the first to be thrown into the air, two of Groot's roots at the tail snapped off, and the entire ship spun backward. Gamora, standing on the rocky ridge, slipped and nearly fell, but she reacted quickly, drawing her short blade and stabbing it into the rock to steady herself. Raccoon clung to the control panel, pressed herself against the side wing, and cursed in a way no one could understand. Groot growled, and its remaining roots frantically coiled around the wreckage, trying to maintain its balance.
Ronan was right at the epicenter of the explosion.
He had just raised his warhammer to retaliate when he was violently slammed back by the impact of the direct hit. The warhammer flew out of his hand and was sent flying more than ten meters away. He was sent flying backward like a cannonball, his back slamming heavily against a towering rock wall with a dull thud, sending debris crashing down. He knelt on one knee, his armor cracked in several places, sparks crackling, and blood seeped from the old wound on his right shoulder, spreading across the dark red armor.
Smoke billowed and dust rose, and in the firelight, the entire scree belt looked as if it had experienced a minor natural disaster.
But Ye Mo knew that the real crisis had only just begun.
He slammed his feet into the ground, spread his arms, and forcibly mobilized the last bit of energy within his body. An invisible Force Field rapidly spread out from him, like an invisible net, enveloping Star-Lord's ship. Just before the shockwave was about to completely overturn the ship, the Force Field barely covered everyone—including Raccoon, Groot, Gamora, and the main body of the ship hovering in mid-air.
The Force Field held up.
But the cost is also considerable.
Ye Mo felt a burning sensation at the corner of his mouth, and a mouthful of blood spurted out, splashing onto the rock in front of him, a glaringly red stain. He didn't wipe it away, nor did he retreat; he simply gritted his teeth and continued to maintain the intensity of the Force Field. He knew this thing wouldn't last long, especially in his current state; he'd be lucky to last ten seconds. But as long as no one was thrown off balance or seriously injured within those ten seconds, it would be worth it.
"Cough... You're pretty tough, aren't you?" he muttered under his breath, his gaze piercing through the billowing smoke as he looked in the direction Ronan had landed.
The commotion over there hadn't stopped.
Debris fell in a flurry, and a dark figure slowly rose from the ruins. Ronan braced himself with one hand on the ground, and with the other, he reached for the warhammer not far away and grabbed it. He raised his head, his eyes burning with rage beneath his helmet, staring intently at where Ye Mo was.
"You... how dare you hurt me?"
His voice was deep, yet carried an oppressive force capable of shattering one's bones. He stepped out of the dust, each step causing a crack to appear in the ground. The purple flames reignited on his warhammer, fiercer and more violent than before.
Ye Mo wiped the blood from his mouth and stood up straight. He knew things were going to get badly, but at least for now, his teammates were still alive, the spaceship hadn't fallen apart, Gamora had stabilized her position, Raccoon was still guarding the control panel, and Groot had begun to Regeneration his broken roots. As long as they could still move, they hadn't lost the battle.
"Hey, up there!" he shouted towards the spaceship, "Don't just stand there, check the equipment! You won't have such a precise bombing opportunity next time!"
Star-Lord shook his head in the cockpit. His helmet visor was cracked, and his ears were ringing, but he could still hear. He wiped his face to make sure he wasn't broken, then quickly glanced at the dashboard. "Engine misalignment 12%, thrusters damaged, but still flyable! Navigation system rebooting—usable in about thirty seconds!"
"Thirty seconds?" Ye Mo grinned. "Then you'd better pray he doesn't rush over too quickly."
Before he could finish speaking, Ronan suddenly looked up and slammed his warhammer heavily into the ground.
Boom--!
A purple shockwave exploded outwards from him, even more violent than the aftershocks of the previous explosion. The ground cracked into a spiderweb pattern, and several boulders in the distance were blown away. He took a step forward with astonishing speed; sparks still flew from the cracks in his armor, but he seemed to feel no pain. His eyes were fixed on the black figure standing there, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
"Insects!" he roared, "You think a piece of junk can stop me?!"
Ye Mo didn't reply or move. He knew that saying anything at this point would be useless. Ronan wasn't fighting anymore; he was venting his anger. The humiliation of someone who considered himself invincible being slapped in the face by a "weakling" drove him even crazier than the injury itself.
He quietly pressed his hand to the ground, his fingertips slightly burning. The previous defensive maneuver had depleted most of his reserves, but now was not the time to worry about energy. He had to hold on one more time—not for a counterattack, but to buy time for the others.
Gamora had already leaped down from the rocky ridge, landing on a higher platform, her hands gripping her blade, her eyes calm. She didn't rush forward, but instead observed Ronan's pace and rhythm. The Raccoon rolled over on the side of the spaceship, sat back down in front of the control panel, coughing as he typed code. "I need to recalibrate the detonation delay! One more round, I'm going to blow his ass out!"
Groot growled, his roots tightening around the ship's tail once more, stabilizing its hovering posture. Star-Lord's fingers rested on the control stick, his eyes fixed on the navigation countdown: 27, 26, 25...
Ye Mo took a deep breath, and the energy within his body began to gather again.
He knew that the next attack had to be even more ruthless.
But he also knew that he might not be able to hold on until then.
Ronan's speed increased, the ground cracking beneath his feet, purple flames leaving long trails, like a ferocious beast breaking free of its cage. He raised his warhammer high, the energy on it concentrated to its limit, distorting the air itself.
Ye Mo squinted, stood firmly with his feet apart, and opened his arms again.
The Force Field wasn't fully formed yet, but he couldn't care less about that now.
"Come on," he whispered, "Let's see if your hammer is harder, or my life is tougher."
Ronan was less than fifty meters away.
Forty meters.
Thirty meters.
Suddenly, Star-Lord's voice boomed from the comms channel. "Navigation restored! I can maneuver now!"
Ye Mo's eye twitched. "You're bringing this up now? Why didn't you say so earlier!"
"I'm totally stunned by this explosion!" Star-Lord roared. "Get ready to provide backup! I'll suppress his vision!"
Before the words were even finished, the spaceship suddenly pulled up, its engines roaring, and it swept low over Ronan's head, dragging its tattered tail. Groot's roots instantly extended, wrapping around the front of the spaceship and forcefully spun it in a half-circle, sending it crashing into Ronan's side like a flying cannonball.
Ronan snorted coldly, spun his warhammer, and unleashed a streak of purple flame.
boom!
The spaceship was hit on the side, and the entire ship rolled violently, almost disintegrating. But this blow also interrupted his charge. He stopped, looked up at the teetering spaceship, and his eyes flashed with murderous intent.
"You... you all deserve to die!"
He raised his warhammer, aimed it at the spaceship, and prepared to unleash his next strike.
Just then, Ye Mo moved.
He suddenly unleashed the last of his energy, and the Force Field instantly expanded, forming an arc-shaped barrier in front of the spaceship. The purple flames slammed into the barrier, producing a piercing friction sound and sparks flying everywhere. The barrier shook violently and cracks appeared, but it ultimately did not break.
Ye Mo coughed up another mouthful of blood, his knees buckled, and he almost knelt down. He braced himself with his hands on the ground and managed not to fall.
"No... blow up the ship..." he gasped, "That's my only hope of getting free flights from now on..."
Star-Lord, who was in the cockpit, heard everything clearly and grinned. "Thanks, buddy. But could you hold out a little longer next time? Your barrier's like it's made of paper."
"Stop talking nonsense!" Ye Mo glared at him. "Find cover! Your next target will definitely be you!"
Gamora had already leaped to a higher point on the other side, short blade in hand, her gaze sharp as a knife. She glanced at Ye Mo and nodded slightly—a gesture of gratitude, but also a reminder: you can't hold on any longer, don't push yourself.
Ye Mo returned the gesture, indicating that he understood.
He slowly straightened up, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, and stared in Ronan's direction.
The man had recovered from the interference of the spaceship, and he raised his warhammer again, purple flames rising, even more ferocious than before.
He knew that the real showdown was only just beginning.
Ye Mo took a deep breath; his energy was almost depleted, but he didn't back down.
He stood still, facing the approaching purple storm, and raised one hand, palm facing forward.
It's like saying: Come on, I haven't fallen yet.