Chapter 700, Look Back, Only One Path
In the courtyard stood rows of soldiers in heavy armor, shields or longswords in front of them, like humanoid machines forged from steel.
The gate burst open with a loud bang.
All eyes turned simultaneously toward the three figures who stormed in.
"Enemies!" someone shouted.
Swish swish swish~!
The soldiers raised their hand crossbows and fired.
The two skeletons moved in front of Wu Heng, bolts pierced their leather armor and embedded into them.
"Kill!"
"Kill them all!"
Both sides gave the order at nearly the same time.
The heavily armored infantry picked up their weapons and charged the entrance.
Kashu and Keramu split to the left and right, lifting their machine guns and unleashing a hail of bullets on the charging soldiers.
Bang bang bang~!
Deafening booms and the sound of bullets tearing through iron armor filled the area.
The entire courtyard echoed with violence.
At such close range, the bullets were at their most lethal.
Armor that once seemed impenetrable was shredded with holes, piercing into the soldiers' bodies.
Some tried to raise shields, but under the rain of bullets, shields shattered, and the heavy infantry dropped in waves, covering the courtyard.
Everyone was dead, and the machine guns fell silent.
The air reeked of gunpowder and thick blood.
Wu Heng raised his staff, a gray-white light circle spread outward.
The recently fallen infantry staggered to their feet and shuffled toward him.
Through the gaping holes in their mangled armor, molten flesh oozed.
Dripping, splattering all over the ground.
"Uncle, they're still inside—waiting by the door for you," Xiaoxiao said.
"That City Lord didn't escape out the back, did he?"
"Nope. Aunt Glenda's watching him. He's not going anywhere," Xiaoxiao replied.
Wu Heng nodded, looking toward the tightly shut building ahead.
Through the cracks, he could feel the gazes peering out.
They hadn't fled out the back.
They believed they still had a chance—counting on traps and ambushes?
Creak~!
The building door cracked open.
As if provoking them—daring them to come inside.
"You might be ready to die with us, but I still plan on being a hero!"
Wu Heng pulled a cannon from his spatial ring.
He mounted it, fed in a belt of shells, and aimed forward.
The next second, like the roar of a god, streams of fire blazed toward the building.
Doors and windows shattered like paper, bricks and tiles flew everywhere.
The sturdy walls collapsed under the rain of shells, and clouds of dust rose.
......
The ammo belt was spent; casings scattered underfoot.
The walls trembled, then collapsed with a thunderous crash, kicking up dust.
The interior of the building was fully exposed.
Corpses littered the floor—severed limbs everywhere.
A few gravely wounded soldiers who had survived coughed blood. When they saw the cannon, terror filled their faces.
Coughing up blood, they begged, "Spare us! It wasn't our fault!"
"Don't kill us!"
"We'll cooperate! Spare us, please!"
One begged, and the rest followed.
They all cried out, willing to cooperate if only their lives were spared.
Wu Heng glanced around. The City Lord, Darsil, was not among the living.
Wu Heng waved a hand. "Kill them all."
The waiting armored skeletons surged forward.
They silenced the pleading wounded.
This wasn't the time for prisoners—the army was still attacking the Guild.
Keeping captives would only cause trouble.
"Uncle, he's still inside," Xiaoxiao said.
......
Inside a room—
City Lord Darsil was soaked in blood, one arm hanging uselessly. He gulped down potion after potion.
Listening to the begging and dying outside—
Darsil's face twisted further in panic.
They had held off two level-18 Professionals—just needed to kill the rest.
But the least conspicuous figure, the Island Lord from Gold-Silver Island, turned out to be monstrously strong.
He replaced the old mage and reached here.
No—
Even that 18th-level mage couldn't have destroyed a whole building in seconds.
"Damn it, what kind of monster is this..."
Darsil cursed, regret washing over him.
He shouldn't have underestimated him.
Or agreed to the plan in the first place.
He struggled to pull out a scroll and ripped it open.
A teleportation circle began to glow beneath his feet.
Swish~!
Suddenly, a sword came flying.
Darsil reflexively dodged—magic circle vanished.
The door burst open.
Wu Heng strode in with skeletons.
......
Darsil, arm lost, drenched in blood, looked wretched.
Seeing Wu Heng, he chuckled bitterly, "I underestimated you."
"I'm curious—what were you thinking? No longer want to be City Lord? Killing Guild members?" Wu Heng asked.
From the moment the local steward died, he'd suspected Darsil.
Just as Philipa had analyzed—who could clean the scene best? That person was either the killer or an accomplice.
The only doubt at HQ had been: who'd be dumb enough to risk everything by fighting the Guild?
"From where I stood, looking back, there was only one path," Darsil said bitterly.
"Maybe. Brittany was sure you wouldn't go this far. Seems she misjudged you," Wu Heng nodded.
"The Fifth Princess? She's the smartest royal, but sees things too idealistically—like a sheltered child. Still, I'm glad she survived," Darsil said. Then he asked, "If I surrender, can I live? I'm no threat now and can cooperate."
Wu Heng glanced at his missing arm and shook his head. "No. I need your head to end the fighting."
"Then let's see who survives," Darsil's eyes flared. He drew a dagger with his remaining hand.
Wu Heng turned slightly. "Kill him—keep the face intact."
"Arrogant~!" Darsil roared, charging.
Kashu dashed forward in a flash.
In an instant, he smashed Darsil's throat with a punch.
Darsil's body flew backward, slid down the wall, eyes wide, collapsing in a heap.
"Wrap it up."
A skeleton tore down a tapestry and rolled up the corpse, storing it in a spatial ring.
Wu Heng entered the main hall, cast [Battlefield of the Dead] again—skeletons rose from all corners.
"Follow me."
They marched quickly outside.
......
Somewhere in the city—
Wind howled; battle raged.
Elder Tapani held his sword with one hand, eyes sharp, blade dancing like a silver snake, striking swiftly and cunningly.
Facing him: a burly, bearded boxer.
His footwork was solid, punches like erupting volcanoes, booming and blazing.
Their clash shattered trees, cracked ground and walls with spiderweb-like fractures and blade marks.
"Elves are a blessed race—more time to hone swordsmanship," the boxer said, backing off.
"You don't get to judge me," Tapani snapped coldly.
"Your people will all die. You're not even worried? Alone, you can't escape."
Tapani smirked. "This is a handpicked team by the Fifth Leader. You think you'll live? Hide if you want—our leaders will find you."
"Hah! I dared kill your people—you think I fear that? You'll all die—"
Mid-sentence, the boxer looked ahead.
One central building—smoke rising.
How did they find that place?!
......
Alley battlefront.
Bows twanged in unison.
The army, unable to break through head-on, began encircling, using ranged attacks to wear them down.
Arrows rained down, forcing the Guild into chaos.
Outside the Guild, corpses formed a small mountain.
Old mage Janvito displayed terrifying power as an 18th-level mage—but even he struggled against such numbers.
Wind, thunder, and fire raged.
Targets fell en masse.
But constant casting drained him—he grew pale, exhausted.
"Protect the clerics! Heal the wounded!" Janvito shouted, beard disheveled.
He gulped a potion and raised his staff.
Gales blew—dispersing much of the arrow rain.
A cleric pulled out a jade charm and crushed it.
Holy light descended; a choir's hymn echoed.
Wounded began to heal, fighters regained strength.
But under the holy light, Wu Heng's Rotting Corpses screamed and turned to ash.
"Damn it! Keep those undead away from the light."