NABC Chapter 2153 The God of War Descends to Earth
Chapter 2153 The God of War Descends to Earth
Facing the vast army ahead, Chen Fei remained calm. The moment he could see the surrounding scenery clearly, he began to try to sense himself.
A strong sense of constraint came over him. His originally vast and boundless spiritual power was now bound by layers of shackles, suppressed in the deepest part of his sea of consciousness, unable to move.
Only that one point of undying true light, transformed from the dark golden starlight of the Mirror of Spiritual Light, still flickered in the center of his sea of consciousness, maintaining his most basic spiritual awareness, but that was all; he could not mobilize it in the slightest for external use.
Furthermore, the vast Yuan Power and physique of the mid-stage Tai Cang Realm, which were enough to influence the heavens and earth, were completely sealed and could not be sensed at all.
The meridians and dantian were completely empty, without the slightest trace of the flow of primordial energy. Even the ability to sense the spiritual energy of heaven and earth had become barely perceptible.
At this moment, the only power that Chen Fei could clearly perceive was the slightly superhuman strength of his body's muscles, bones, and blood.
This strength is roughly equivalent to the peak level of a seasoned, exceptionally talented mortal general, capable of drawing a bow with a strength of three stones and lifting a cauldron weighing a thousand catties, but that's about it.
Compared to the immense power of a cultivator in the Tai Cang Realm who can easily shatter space, it is incomparable.
His soul was sealed, his vital energy was completely gone, leaving him with only a strong mortal body... and the blood-stained spear in his hand and the tattered heavy armor on his body.
An illusion... What an amazing illusion!
It directly suppressed his fundamental power at its source. If Chen Fei had not retained his intelligence, he would probably have completely immersed himself in this desperate situation and ultimately succumbed to despair.
Chen Fei lowered his head, but his gaze fell on a jade pendant hanging at his waist.
This jade pendant is of ordinary material, the most common type of green jade. The carving is rough, and the edges are even somewhat worn, making it look like an old item that has been worn for many years.
With a slight thought, Chen Fei communicated with the spatial dimension, then locked onto the ordinary green jade pendant at his waist. His thoughts, like the finest silk thread, painstakingly reached out and wrapped around it.
With a thought, the waist felt slightly lighter, and the jade pendant instantly disappeared from the waist and appeared in the spatial compartment.
Against the backdrop of the empty space, the jade pendant was not in its original state.
The moment it entered the spatial grid, it lost some kind of support and transformed into a ball of the purest primordial energy.
Indeed, everything in this illusion was essentially a fabrication constructed by a highly sophisticated illusionary power combined with suppressed perception.
They are not real matter, but rather products of the combination of illusion and cognition. Once they are contained within a spatial grid that isolates the inside from the outside, they will manifest their most essential form.
So, is the method used to discover the weak points of the illusionary barrier outside the ancient Heavenly Court still effective here?
Chen Fei immediately separated a wisp of divine thought. This wisp of divine thought was so weak that it was almost negligible. If it weren't for the starlight guarding the Undying True Light Mirror, he would have had difficulty controlling even this wisp of divine thought precisely.
Chen Fei attached his divine sense to the wisp of primordial energy transformed from the jade pendant, and then manipulated this wisp of primordial energy attached to his divine sense to take it out of the spatial compartment.
The primordial energy transformed back into the jade pendant, and Chen Fei's divine sense, attached to it, was amplified through the subtle connection and conflict between this primordial energy and the origin of the illusion.
The world before his eyes underwent a strange change.
The dark, imposing army formation, the biting cold wind, the thousands of troops ahead... all these scenes were as if a layer of paint had been peeled off, revealing the rough undertones beneath.
The murderous aura emanating from the thousands of armored soldiers ahead would occasionally freeze for a fleeting moment, like an occasional discontinuous brushstroke in a flowing painting.
Most importantly, Chen Fei saw that this world itself, the framework that supports the existence of all things, had extremely subtle cracks at certain points.
These flaws are like occasional stray noises in a perfect musical piece; though small, they do exist and are out of place in the otherwise seamless illusion.
"General Chen, my patience is finite. I'll ask you one last time: surrender or not!"
Ahead, the silver-armored general, seated atop his black horse, grew increasingly impatient upon seeing Chen Fei remain silent for so long. His voice suddenly rose, booming like thunder, and filled with intense killing intent.
He slightly raised the halberd in his hand, its tip gleaming coldly as it locked onto Chen Fei. Behind him, thousands of armored soldiers roared in unison, their weapons striking the ground with a uniform boom.
The pressure was like a landslide or a tsunami.
Behind them, Cao Feiyu struggled to climb down from the carriage, wanting to live and die with Chen Fei.
Chen Fei slowly raised his head. His face, mostly obscured by the shadow of his helmet beneath his heavy armor, made his expression impossible to discern. However, the corners of his mouth seemed to twitch very slightly.
Under the watchful eyes of everyone, Chen Fei slowly raised his left hand, which was not holding a gun. The heavy iron plates on his arm collided, making a metallic scraping sound.
Chen Fei looked at the boundless army formation ahead and gently beckoned with his index finger to the general sitting on his horse.
The movement was light and casual, but the meaning it conveyed was more provocative and disdainful than the wildest roar.
No words are needed; a single gesture says it all.
"you wanna die!"
The silver-armored general was taken aback at first, seemingly not expecting Chen Fei to make such a provocative move in such a desperate situation, and then flew into a rage.
"Kill him! Sever his limbs, I want him alive!"
"Roar!"
With the general's order, the vanguard, which had been unable to contain themselves, roared like tigers released from their gates and sprang into action.
The front row of heavy shield bearers provided cover, followed by a forest of spears, their cold light flashing. Behind them were swordsmen, axemen, and crossbowmen. The army moved like a mountain, carrying the force to crush everything, surging toward the figure on the edge of the cliff.
The earth trembled under the iron hooves and footsteps, and dust billowed into the sky.
Cao Feiyu, sitting in the carriage, was deathly pale, tears streaming down her face. She stared at the figure standing alone, spear in hand, facing a vast army, at the overwhelming tide of death rushing towards her; boundless despair and fear threatened to engulf her.
Chen Fei ignored the surging torrent of death approaching him. He slowly adjusted his breathing, his chest rising and falling slightly under his heavy armor, condensing and compressing the power of his blood and qi throughout his body, and mobilizing it to his limbs and bones.
The cold steel spear in his hand trembled slightly, emitting a deep, dragon-like hum.
With flesh and blood, and the strength of an ordinary person, how could he possibly face a massive, well-trained, and heavily armored army?
Under normal circumstances, this would be tantamount to a mantis trying to stop a chariot, an absolute dead end.
Human strength is finite; flesh and blood will tire, tendons and bones will be damaged, swords will pierce the body and cause bleeding, and strength will be exhausted and cause weakness. No matter how skilled you are in martial arts, in the face of overwhelming numbers and a well-organized army, the only end is death from exhaustion or being torn apart by a hail of blades.
If Chen Fei's soul remains trapped and his spiritual awareness is not restored, and he is merely a general whose fate has been predetermined in this illusion, then the outcome will be without any suspense.
He will fight a bloody battle and may kill dozens or even hundreds of enemies, but in the end he will be exhausted, have his limbs severed and be captured, or fall off a cliff to his death, thus completing the tragic script set in this illusion.
But, no if.
Chen Fei lost the power to move mountains and overturn seas, but he did not lose his battle awareness honed through countless trials, nor his most exquisite and subtle control and understanding of power.
Moreover, Chen Fei also saw the flaws in this illusion. Although he could not break this world, he could do so by borrowing some power.
Chen Fei held the gun in one hand, the tip pointing diagonally at the ground, while his other hand gently rested on the cool barrel.
He slightly bent his knees, lowered his center of gravity, and assumed a basic starting stance, his gaze calmly sweeping over the approaching enemy vanguard.
In the blink of an eye, the enemy vanguard had already rushed close.
At the very front were several burly, heavily armored infantrymen wielding massive iron shields. They roared in unison, slamming their shields heavily onto the ground with a dull thud, instantly forming an iron wall.
Cold, long spears emerged from the gaps, like steel hedgehogs, stabbing fiercely at Chen Fei. Behind the shield formation, axemen lurked, and archers drew their bows, their killing intent almost tangible.
Chen Fei did not retreat even a step; behind him lay a cliff and a carriage, leaving him nowhere to go.
He suddenly pushed off with his feet, his body shooting forward like an arrow, not advancing but retreating, deliberately crashing into the seemingly impenetrable shield wall and forest of guns.
Just as he was about to collide with the shield wall, Chen Fei twisted his waist, and the twelve-foot steel spear in his hand seemed to come alive, no longer an inanimate object, but an extension of his arm.
With a flick of his wrist, the spear traced an arc, not a straight thrust, but rather like a dragon's tail swing, the spearhead striking with pinpoint accuracy against the edge of a giant shield on the left.
"clang!"
With a dull, metallic clang, the shield-wielding warrior felt an irresistible force coming from the side of his shield. It wasn't a direct clash, but rather a skillful combination of a horizontal deflection and an upward thrust.
He shuddered violently, his tiger's mouth split open, and the heavy iron shield rose uncontrollably upwards, causing his entire robust body to lose its balance. His feet left the ground, and he was thrown backwards as if struck by a giant hammer.
"boom!"
The heavily armored shield-bearer slammed into the tightly packed formation of his comrades behind him.
Screams, the cracking of bones, and the clanging of armor filled the air. The once impenetrable shield wall was instantly breached, and several spearmen behind it were unable to dodge in time, falling to the ground and their formation thrown into chaos.
As soon as the opening appeared, Chen Fei's figure darted in like a ghost.
"Pfft!"
The spear tip moved like lightning, piercing through a gap in a soldier's helmet and instantly penetrating his throat, drawing out a spray of blood.
Chen Fei flicked his wrist, sending the armored soldier flying to the right and crashing into another axe-wielder who was attempting a sneak attack. At the same time, his spear retracted half a foot, its shaft sweeping across like an iron rod, slamming into the wrist of an armored soldier who was thrusting his spear forward with a loud bang.
A clear sound of bones cracking rang out, and the armored soldier screamed in agony as he dropped his spear.
Gunfire resumed, like a torrential downpour of pear blossoms.
Chen Fei moved with agility, shifting and maneuvering within the limited space, each step landing on the weak points of the enemy formation. He did not engage the enemy in a direct confrontation of strength, but rather used the momentum of the enemy's charge, or even the bodies of his comrades, as fulcrums to break through their force with skill.
In his hands, the steel spear sometimes moved like a serpent striking, targeting vital points such as the joints of armor, the face, and the throat. At other times, he swept the spear horizontally with great force, knocking several enemies away at once.
Sometimes it unleashes thousands of spear shadows, the spear tassels blooming like red lotuses, alternating between illusion and reality, making it impossible for the enemy to defend against.
Blood began to bloom wildly, and screams and roars mingled with the piercing sounds of clashing weapons, creating a cruel symphony of death.
Wherever Chen Fei went, men and horses fell, and no one could withstand the power of his spear or make him take a single step back.
The heavy iron armor on his body made a constant clanging sound, which was the marks left by stray arrows or blades that occasionally slipped through his fingers, but they were all deflected by the armor plates and failed to harm him in the slightest.
Chen Fei's movements were fluid and graceful, his breathing steady and long, as if he were not engaged in a life-or-death struggle, but rather performing a meticulously planned killing act.
The battle continued, the stench of blood thick and unbearable.
The clearing at the edge of the cliff was quickly covered and stained red with corpses and blood. Chen Fei stood like a rock, firmly nailed to the front of the carriage and the cliff. The steel spear in his hand was the boundary between life and death.
No matter how the armored soldiers roared, formed ranks, or charged forward wave after wave, they could never cross the invisible barrier that Chen Fei had drawn with his spear.
Chen Fei always managed to avoid the encirclement half a step ahead and always managed to find the weakest link in the army formation to deliver a fatal blow.
His strength seemed inexhaustible, his movements were terrifyingly precise, every swing of his gun drew blood, and every move he made landed on the enemy's most vulnerable spot.
Some of the bloodthirsty soldiers, seeing that a frontal assault would result in heavy casualties and make it difficult to break through, turned their attention to Cao Feiyu in the carriage behind Chen Fei.
Several agile swordsmen and shieldmen, under the cover of their comrades, attempted to flank the damaged carriage.
However, while Chen Fei appeared to be fully focused on dealing with the positive onslaught, her intuition permeated the entire scene.
A swordsman who had just raised his shield, his face contorted in a ferocious expression, suddenly froze. He looked down in disbelief at the spearhead piercing his heart through the gap in the edge of his shield, made a "hoarse" sound in his throat, and collapsed to the ground.
The spear shot out like a dragon, and retracted like lightning.
Chen Fei didn't even turn around. With a flick of his wrist, the spear swept backward as if it had a life of its own. The shaft of the spear, accompanied by a piercing whistle, slammed heavily into the waist of another armored soldier who was trying to rush in from the other side of the carriage.
"Crack!"
A clear sound of bones breaking rang out, and the armored soldier screamed as he flew backward, knocking down two of his companions behind him.
Third place, fourth place... all the armored soldiers who tried to approach the carriage, no matter from which direction or how well they hid, would always be ended at the last moment by that elusive spear tip or shaft.
Chen Fei's figure flashed back and forth between the frontal battlefield and the carriage. Seemingly fraught with danger, he always managed to defuse the crisis at the last second. His long spear moved with such force that it was impenetrable, firmly protecting the carriage behind him.
Despite being a mortal being clad in heavy armor, Chen Fei appeared to Cao Feiyu and the remaining enemy troops as if he had transformed into an invincible war god from legend.
The corpses piled up at his feet, blood soaked through his boots, stained the hem of his armor, and even splattered onto his cold face, but his arm holding the gun remained steady, his eyes remained sharp as cold stars, and his breathing remained calm.
No armored soldier's weapon could truly penetrate his defenses and cause him any real harm, and no one could get past him or even touch the carriage.
Even the arrows that came hurtling towards him failed to break through Chen Fei's defensive boundaries.
Chen Fei's gaze swept coldly across the still surging army formation ahead, though its momentum had clearly weakened from its initial surge.
He could clearly see that those faces, which were originally filled with madness, murderous intent, and greed, were now being replaced by an increasingly intense fear.
It was a fear of facing inhuman beings, a despair of watching one's comrades fall like wheat being harvested, while the enemy remained unharmed.
Chen Fei glanced at the sky out of the corner of his eye, almost imperceptibly.
The leaden clouds hung low, the cold wind was still biting, and the sound of war drums had stopped sometime earlier, leaving only heavy breathing, the sound of weapons dragging on the ground, and... the faint sound of blood gushing from wounds and corpses.
After this illusion plunged him into this desperate situation and suppressed his power, it seemed that there were truly no further disturbances.
There were no meteorites falling from the sky, no earthquakes or landslides, and no sudden strengthening of any enemy. It was simply objectively executing this desperate scenario, relying on this realistic military formation to wear him down and crush him.
Chen Fei withdrew his gaze. The corpses beneath his feet piled higher and higher, gradually forming a small mountain of corpses. Thick, warm blood gathered into streams, flowing along the cracks in the rocks, making the ground incredibly slippery.
The armored soldiers who followed in the charge now had to carefully avoid the corpses of their comrades and the slippery pools of blood, which greatly reduced the speed and momentum of their charge.
Many people slipped and fell in a sorry state. Before they could get up, Chen Fei casually shot them to death, or they were trampled by their companions who couldn't stop in time.
In less than a quarter of an hour, countless armored soldiers had fallen around Chen Fei, their severed limbs creating a scene resembling hell, with a strong stench of blood filling the air.
Behind them, the fear on the faces of the armored soldiers who had not yet rushed forward had turned into real terror, and many of them even began to tremble, their hands gripping their weapons shaking.
They watched as that figure, standing like a demon god amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood, and as their comrades were harvested like straw, their will to fight had long since collapsed.
If it weren't for the officers wielding large, menacing swords behind the ranks, shouting "Those who retreat will be executed!" and brutally killing several fleeing soldiers, this seemingly massive army would have already collapsed.
Inside the wrecked carriage, Cao Feiyu had long forgotten to cry, and even her own pain. Her beautiful eyes were wide open, staring at the figure in front of her who stood firm amidst thousands of soldiers, maneuvering with unparalleled skill.
Her gaze followed the blood-stained spear, watching how Chen Fei, single-handedly, firmly held back the surging enemy army several feet away.
Blood splattered, staining her vision and her heart.
At first, there was extreme fear, the terror of seeing that figure engulfed by swords and blades in the next second. But then came an unbelievable shock; she had never imagined that one person's martial arts skills and courage could reach such an astonishing level.
This is no longer a war between ordinary people; it's more like a mythical battle where a war god descends to earth and single-handedly holds off a million soldiers.
Looking at Chen Fei's temples soaked with blood, and at his cold, stone-carved profile, Cao Feiyu's heart began to pound violently.
The sound of his heartbeat even drowned out the shouts and screams from the outside world.
A strange, burning, indescribable feeling of dependence and excitement, like vines, quietly wrapped around her heart, growing ever tighter.
"Waaaaah!"
A deep, desolate bugle call slowly rose from the direction of the enemy's central camp, piercing through the clamor of the battlefield and spreading throughout the entire Broken Dragon Cliff.
The bugle call was not a call to attack, but an order to retreat. (End of Chapter)