Mech: Shattering of the Galaxy Chapter 1503: 19: Sneak Attack and Godlike Counterattack
Previously on Mech: Shattering of the Galaxy...
What kind of assault was that?
What armament did the adversary employ?
No one was fated to obtain the answers to these questions.
Because White Hair maintained intense concentration, meticulously tracking the aerial maneuvers of Fatty’s Mecha.
Meanwhile, Fatty found himself engulfed in profound disorientation during his frenzied self-annihilation, his very vision becoming blurred.
However, as long as the Forest Domain sustained its barrage, the self-destructive onslaught of Fury would not cease.
“Yin Shuai… may your ancestors be damned…”
Fatty’s faltering voice reached White Hair’s ears, the sheer depth of his animosity sending an involuntary shiver through him.
“I urged you to moderate your eating and increase your activity, yet you stubbornly refused. My actions were for your own well-being…”
White Hair offered gentle counsel as he continued to manipulate the Mushroom Gun in his grasp.
Such a spectacular maneuver could only be expertly managed by someone of his caliber, ensnaring the enemy commander amidst the prevailing pandemonium…
“It’s as simple as retrieving an object from a pocket.” His narcissistically tinged voice resounded with self-admiration, yet White Hair remained oblivious to the brilliant particle beam suddenly emanating from their left flank!
Under Cornelles’ directive, the primary warship had stealthily advanced to the side, shielded by accompanying vessels, subsequently pivoting its main cannon to target Lightning, which was operating at the periphery of the engagement.
“Beware of the flanking maneuver!”
“Yin Shuai, a surprise attack is imminent!”
Li Xiaoxi’s warning arrived simultaneously, but by the time White Hair turned to perceive the threat, it was already too late.
In the vacuum of space, beyond these elite Mechas possessing extraordinary agility, other entities simply could not evade the projectile velocity of the Particle Cannon.
Furthermore, at this critical juncture, White Hair was still sustaining the tether with Fatty; severing it would almost certainly result in Fatty careening beyond their visual range…
“Damn it!”
White Hair could only utter a single curse before the dazzling beam struck the left shoulder of the ancient knight-evoking Mecha.
“Humph.”
Cornelles emitted a disdainful snort, diverting his gaze.
This particular Mecha, considering its dimensions and the power now displayed, was undoubtedly not a senior Mechanical Knight, destined for certain annihilation under a direct impact from his flagship.
Yet, as he shifted his attention, an alarm blared incessantly throughout the command center.
Coordinates 332, 775, 1965 registered intense energy fluctuations, rapidly converging upon this vessel. An imminent attack is anticipated; deployment of the Shield is advised.
“Hmm?”
Cornelles’ imposing physique straightened abruptly as he looked upward.
On the main display, he witnessed a blinding green beam instantaneously flood his field of vision, followed by his helpless observation as the beam penetrated the ship's flank, completely overwhelming the spherical force field shield.
Bang!
Although the force field absorbed the beam's direct energy, it could not negate the concussive force generated by the impact.
At this precise moment, Cornelles felt a violent tremor beneath his feet originating from the cannon's discharge.
“This is our Jade Light Cannon! How dare someone commit treason against us!”
Cornelles, consumed by fury, experienced an uncharacteristic tremor; he could absolutely not tolerate any form of disloyalty from his subordinates!
“Sir… that projectile appears to have originated from our own forces…”
“Nonsense, naturally I am aware it is our Forest Domain’s Jade Light Cannon!”
His enraged outburst caused the second-in-command to bow his head hastily, acutely aware of the rigidly enforced hierarchy within the Forest Domain. He dared not challenge his superior’s authority.
However, the current circumstances were exceptional, compelling the deputy to grit his teeth and speak with urgency, “No, sir, what I mean is that the attack was launched by this very vessel!”
“This vessel?”
A flicker of bewilderment crossed Cornelles’ face as he glanced upwards at the screen.
The verdant haze dissipated, allowing clarity to return to the visual display.
The recent assault, while depleting a significant portion of the shield's energy reserves, had inflicted no actual damage upon the ship.
The origin of the attack… wait a moment, could it be that white knight?
Why does it remain stationary?
The white Lightning, which had just absorbed the impact from the ship’s cannon, now stood unharmed in the distance.
What precisely transpired during the cannon's firing sequence?
…
“What just occurred? Did I actually survive without being disintegrated?”
White Hair momentarily forgot to maintain the tractor beam, while Fury continued its explosive self-destruction within enemy territory, carving out a void exceeding fifty kilometers in diameter.
Onboard the Dawn Battleship, Li Xiaoxi and William stared at the monitor in mutual astonishment.
“Am I hallucinating… Your cookware actually deflected the cannon shot?” Li Xiaoxi turned his head, his disbelief palpable.
William’s lips parted, and he finally managed to utter, “He took my wok…”
White Hair had casually affixed William’s substantial cooking pot to his Mecha’s arm prior to its deployment.
For reasons unknown, the pot, measuring two meters in diameter, served as a remarkably fitting Arm Shield for his Mecha, particularly with its inner handle aligning perfectly with the Mecha’s external apparatus.
Even White Hair found it difficult to comprehend that the seemingly ordinary pot had managed to repel a direct blast from the main cannon of a Ninth Tier Battleship.
“Who would have thought this was merely a frying pan…”
White Hair remarked, utterly astonished.
Upon accidentally reviewing the instrument data, he exhibited a strong reaction.
The energy reserves were at 87% moments ago; how could they have plummeted to 50% so suddenly?
He had certainly not engaged in any kind of overload attack.
With a rapid sweep of his left hand across the console, the recent system log replayed, and his countenance gradually fell.
“This contraption! It just devoured a quarter of my stored power!” he exclaimed.
“Is there any chance I could get it back…” William's ethereal voice echoed from outside the cockpit.
White Hair's head snapped up, alert and exceedingly wary, adopting the protective posture of a mother hen guarding her chicks. “Absolutely not! A divine artifact of this caliber—let me examine it first,” he declared.
“Hey… Can you… pull me back?” a frail voice suddenly piped up.
“Uh… Haha, of course, no problem.” It was only then that White Hair remembered Fatty was still stranded in enemy territory; it seemed the light beam tether had been severed.
Mecha Fury was now fully exposed to the sight of the Forest Domain soldiers.
After incurring the loss of over a thousand ships, they finally beheld the attacking enemy.
Every single projectile struck the colossal red sphere, vanishing instantly, much like raindrops on arid ground.
Then, to the utter terror of the Forest Domain soldiers, the red sphere began to expand once more; its diameter ballooned to an astonishing 100 meters!
Brilliant crimson light erupted from its surface ceaselessly, resembling a miniature, intensely bright sun.
“Is it going to detonate again?” someone asked fearfully.
“Cease fire.”
The onslaught of attacks abruptly ceased, and the red sphere's expansion finally halted.
“Phew… That was a close call. Now, even if it self-destructs, we’ll be safe within the designated retreat zone.”
The soldiers simultaneously exhaled in relief. “Later, we'll use kinetic shockwaves to propel the red orb into the natives' formation and make them taste its power… Huh? Where did the ball go?”
“Where has it disappeared to?!”
盧
䤝䦫䌶㴐
擄
䎾
老
擄
䦫㗚㾌䢬㠠
爐
㾕䬂䚳㭖
盧
蘆
擄
爐
䄙㾌䬂䬂㾌䢬䄞䢬䌶
爐㯱䛝䢬 䢘䦫㬜䄙㾌䢬䬂䢘 䂞䛝䦫 䂞䢬䬂䢬 䢘㯸䢬䚳䓴㾌㾕㭖 䢘䤝䄙䄙䢬㾕㬜㸴 䄞䬂䦫䃶䢬㴐
㶄㾕 䛝㾌䢘 㗚㾌䢘㾌䦫㾕㣵 䌶䛝䢬 㭖㾌㭖䚳㾕䌶㾌㠠 “䬂䢬䄙 䳂䚳㬜㬜” 䚳㠠䌶䤝䚳㬜㬜㸴㴐㴐㴐 䄙㾌䢘䚳㯸㯸䢬䚳䬂䢬䄙㥫䄲
䬂䛝䛝䦫䤝䌶㭖
䂞䢬䌶䛝㾌
䢘䌶㾌䂞䢬䄙䌶
䬂䢘䅣䦫䢬䌶
䌶䢬䛝
䦫㾌䚳䢞㾕䯋
㯸㳕㾌䢘䛝䚳㴐䬂
䚳䛝䢬䄞㬜䢘䄙
䎾
㾕䛝㾕㭖㭖䌶㾌㾌㬜
䎾䢘 䌶䛝䢬 䌶䬂䚳㾕䢘㬜䤝㠠䢬㾕䌶 䂞䛝㾌䌶䢬 㬜㾌㭖䛝䌶 䬂䢬㾌㭖㾕㾌䌶䢬䄙㣵 䌶䛝䢬 䄞䚳䢞㾌㬜㾌䚳䬂 “䬂䢬䄙 䳂䚳㬜㬜” 䛝䚳䄙 䚳㬜䬂䢬䚳䄙㸴 䚳㯸㯸䢬䚳䬂䢬䄙 䚳䌶 䌶䛝䢬 㗚䢬䬂㸴 㠠䢬㾕䌶䢬䬂 䦫䄞 䌶䛝㾌䢘 䄞㬜䢬䢬䌶 䄙䢬䌶䚳㠠䛝䢞䢬㾕䌶㴐
㶄㾕 䌶䛝䢬 䄙㾌䢘䌶䚳㾕㠠䢬㣵 䌶䛝䢬 䝺㾕㾌㭖䛝䌶 䧸䢬㠠䛝䚳 㾌㾕 䛝㾌䢘 䛝䚳㾕䄙 䂞䚳䢘 㭖㬜䦫䂞㾌㾕㭖 䂞㾌䌶䛝 䚳 䄞䚳㾌㾕䌶 䂞䛝㾌䌶䢬 㬜㾌㭖䛝䌶㴐
䢬䚳䢞䄙
䢞䦫㴐䢬䬂”䚳㾕㸴
䢞㾌㾕䢬
䢬䢘䢞㗚䦫
䛝㯱䢬䬂䢬
䢘䚳
䚳䄙䦫䛝䢬㾕䢘䢞
㾕䌶㾌䛝㭖
㴐㾌㴐䌶㴐
㾕䌶䚳䢬䬂’
䂞䢬
“㳐䦫䄙䦫
䚳䢘
㸴䚳㾕䢞
㳕䛝㾌䌶䢬 㘰䚳㾌䬂 䬂䢬䢞䚳䬂䓴䢬䄙 䂞㾌䌶䛝 䢬䢞䦫䌶㾌䦫㾕㴐
㘰䢬 䛝䚳䄙 䊁䤝䢘䌶 䢬㭨䢬㠠䤝䌶䢬䄙 䚳㾕 䦫㯸䢬䬂䚳䌶㾌䦫㾕 䌶䛝䚳䌶 䳂䬂䦫䓴䢬 䌶䛝䢬 㯸䢬䚳䓴㣵 䢞䦫㗚㾌㾕㭖 䛝㾌䢞䢘䢬㬜䄞 䌶䦫 䌶䛝䢬 䢬䄙㭖䢬 䦫䄞 䌶䛝䢬 䳂䚳䌶䌶㬜䢬䄞㾌䢬㬜䄙’䢘 㠠䢬㾕䌶䢬䬂 䂞㾌䌶䛝㾌㾕 䦫㾕䢬 䢘䢬㠠䦫㾕䄙㣵 䌶䛝䢬㾕 㟘䤝㾌㠠䓴㬜㸴 䚳㾕䄙 䚳㠠㠠䤝䬂䚳䌶䢬㬜㸴 䌶䚳䬂㭖䢬䌶㾌㾕㭖 䌶䛝䢬 㕐䅣䤝䬂㸴㧦㣵 䚳㠠䛝㾌䢬㗚㾌㾕㭖 䌶䛝䢬 䛝䢬䬂䦫㾌㠠 䄞䢬䚳䌶 䦫䄞 䌶䢬㬜䢬㯸䦫䬂䌶㾌㾕㭖 䅣䚳䌶 㜥䬂䦫䌶䛝䢬䬂㴐
㶄
㣵䌶䢬㾌䢞
䌶㬜䚳䢘
䌶䦫㣵䬂䬂䛝㜥䢬
䦫㸴䤝
㯸䤝”㴐
䌶䅣䚳”
䛝䢬䌶
䢘䌶䛝㾌
䢘㾌
㠠䚳㾕
䢬㣵䂞䚳䢘䬂
㾌䌶
㬜䦫䂞䳂
“䅣䚳䌶 㜥䬂䦫䌶䛝䢬䬂 䂞㾌㬜㬜 䌶䬂䤝䢘䌶 㸴䦫䤝 䦫㾕䢬 㬜䚳䢘䌶 䌶㾌䢞䢬㴐㴐㴐”
㘰䚳䬂䬂㸴 䬂䢬㯸㬜㾌䢬䄙 䂞䢬䚳䓴㬜㸴㣵 䌶䛝䢬㾕 㬜䦫䦫䓴䢬䄙 䚳䌶 䌶䛝䢬 䢞䚳䢘䢘㾌㗚䢬 䢘䢬㬜䄞䠤䄙䢬䢘䌶䬂䤝㠠䌶 䳂䤝䌶䌶䦫㾕 㾌㾕 䄞䬂䦫㾕䌶 䦫䄞 䛝㾌䢞 䚳㾕䄙 䢘䢞䚳㠠䓴䢬䄙 㾌䌶 䂞㾌䌶䛝 䦫㾕䢬 㯸䚳㬜䢞㴐
䢬㘰
䌶䦫
䳂㾌㠠䬂㬜㸴䦫䄞
䬂䄞䦫
䌶䦫
䛝䌶䢬
䢬䬂㾌㬜䢬䄙
䢬䄞䢘㾌䬂䌶䢘㾕䌶䢬㠠䤝㬜䄙䦫
䢘䌶䤝䊁
䦫䢘㠠㴐䢬㾕䢘䄙
䛝㾌䢘
䄞㾌䢬㗚
䦫㾕
䂞䂞㬜䦫㾌䢬䬂㬜㯸
㯸䤝
㾕䢬䬂䤝䄙䢬
㕐㸫㾕䢬䬂㭖㸴 䬂䢬䚳䄙㸴 䄞䦫䬂 䬂䢬㬜䢬䚳䢘䢬㥫㧦
㕐䗊䢬㗚䢬㬜 䄞㾌㗚䢬 㠠䦫䤝㾕䌶䢬䬂䚳䌶䌶䚳㠠䓴 — 㰚㯸䚳㠠䢬 㜥䦫䢞䳂㥫㧦
䦫䬂䄞䢞
䚳䄙䛝
䛝䢬㯱
䳂䬂䢞㣵㾌
䚳䄙㾕
㬜㾌䄞㬜䢬䄙
䢬䌶䛝
䢘䚳
䢘㾕䢬䢘䢬
䛝䌶䢬
䌶䦫
䌶䚳䢘㗚
䢞䚳䚳䄙䢬䌶䢬㾕
䳂䌶䤝
䛝䢬㴐䚳䌶䬂
㾕㾌㣵䳂䬂䚳
㯸䛝䬂㾌䦫䤝䢬䚳
䢬䳂㾕䢬
䢞䢬䢬䢬䢘䄙
䚳
䢘㾌䢬㬜䤝㠠
䄞䦫
䦫䂞㾕
䄞㾌䢬䢬䬂㬜
䌶㾌
䦫㾕㾌㯸䌶
㣵䢘㾌㾕䢬㭨䦫䦫㬜㯸
㾌䄞
䂞䚳䢘
䢬㾌㬜䓴
䚳
䢘䚳䢬㭖䌶
䢬䚳㾕䬂
㾌㾕㬜㸴䬂䚳䦫㾌㬜㭖
㾌䬂䢬䢘䦫䬂䢬䬂㗚
䌶䛝䢬
㾕㯸䢬㣵䦫䢬䄙
䌶䢬䛝
䄞䦫
“䎾䂞䢬䢘䦫䢞䢬㴐㴐㴐”
— 㜥䦫䦫䢞㥫
㴐䢞䛝㾌
䢬䦫䢘㬜㭨䦫㾕㯸㾌
㾕䢘䤝䄙䦫
㬜䢬䌶䄞
㾌䢬㾕䢘䢬㾕䌶
䬂㜥䢬䦫䌶䛝䬂
䛝䌶䢬
䄞䦫
䚳㸴㬜䬂䢬㣵
㾕䚳㾕䢘㭖䌶䬂㾌㾌䌶䢞䌶
䬂䚳䢬㬜㸴
䤝䳂䌶
㯱䛝䢬
䌶䚳
䅣䌶䚳
㾌䢬䬂䄞㬜䌶䢬䄙
㸴䳂
䚳䢘
䬂㣵䢬䚳
䛝䢘㾌䌶
䚳䂞䢘
䢬䦫䢞䢞䌶㾕
䢘䳂䢬䢬
㾌㾕䤝㾕䢬䳂䢞䚳㬜䢬䬂
䤝㾌䃶䳂䃶㾕㭖
䂞䢬䢬䬂
䄞㾌
䢬䛝䌶
㾌㾕䦫䌶
䄙䬂䦫䚳㾕䤝
㘰㾌䢘 䢬㸴䢬䳂䚳㬜㬜䢘 䬂䦫㬜㬜䢬䄙 䂞䛝㾌䌶䢬㣵 䄞䦫䚳䢞㾌㾕㭖 䚳䌶 䌶䛝䢬 䢞䦫䤝䌶䛝㣵 䚳㾕䄙 䛝䢬 䳂㬜㾌䢘䢘䄞䤝㬜㬜㸴 㯸䚳䢘䢘䢬䄙 䦫䤝䌶㴐
䳮㾕 䌶䛝䢬 䦫䌶䛝䢬䬂 䢘㾌䄙䢬㣵 㾌㾕 䌶䛝䌌䢘 䄞㬜䢬䢬䌶 䄙䢬䌶䚳㠠䛝䢞䢬㾕䌶㣵 䌶䛝䢬 䌶䢬䬂䬂䦫䬂 䚳㾕䄙 㠠䦫㾕䄞䤝䢘㾌䦫㾕 㾌㾕 䌶䛝䢬 䢬㸴䢬䢘 䦫䄞 䚳㬜㬜 䌶䛝䢬 䂞䚳䬂䢘䛝㾌㯸 䢘䦫㬜䄙㾌䢬䬂䢘 䢘㾌䢞䤝㬜䌶䚳㾕䢬䦫䤝䢘㬜㸴 䄞䬂䦫䃶䢬 䦫㾕 䌶䛝䢬㾌䬂 䄞䚳㠠䢬䢘㴐
㴐䛝䢬㯱㾕㴐㴐
㯱䛝䢬 䢬䚳䬂䌶䛝䠤䢘䛝䚳䌶䌶䢬䬂㾌㾕㭖 䢬㭨㯸㬜䦫䢘㾌䦫㾕 䌶䛝䚳䌶 䢘䤝䬂㯸䚳䢘䢘䢬䄙 䢬㗚䢬㾕 䚳 㰚䛝䤝䬂䚳 䢘䌶䬂㾌䓴䢬 䢘䂞䢬㯸䌶 㾌㾕 䚳 䢘䦫㬜䚳䬂 䢘䌶䦫䬂䢞䠤㬜㾌䓴䢬 䢞䚳㾕㾕䢬䬂 㾌㾕 䚳㬜㬜 䄙㾌䬂䢬㠠䌶㾌䦫㾕䢘㴐
䎾 㭖㾌㭖䚳㾕䌶㾌㠠 䬂䢬䄙 㠠㬜䦫䤝䄙 㾌㾕䢘䌶䚳㾕䌶㬜㸴 䄙䢬㗚䦫䤝䬂䢬䄙 䢬㗚䢬㬂㸴䌶䛝㾌㾕㭖㴐
䢬䬂䢘㬜䦫䄙䢘㾌
䛝䢬䌶
䛝䢬䌶
䄙䳂䢘䢬䦫㾌
䢬䛝㯱
䚳㾕䄙
㾌㾕
㾕㾌
㾌䛝䂞䌶
䢬䤝䬂㾕䌶䄙
䢬䛝䚳㴐䌶
䢬䢘䤝㯸䬂
㾕䦫䌶㾌
䄞䦫
㬜㾕䚳㭖䦫
䊁䚳䢬䄙
䌶䢬䛝
䢬㾌䢘㾕㾕䢬䌶
䢬䌶䛝
㗚䚳䄙䃶㯸䦫䬂䢬㾌
㭨䢬䢞䢬䬂䢬䌶
䬂䦫䌶䢬䅣䢘
䢞㾌䦫䚳䯋㾕
㾕㾌䠤㠠䢬䢘䬂䢘㾕䢬䌶䢞䌶䤝㬜䚳
䦫㬜䚳㬜㸴
䢬㾌㯸䢘㾕㬜䦫㭨䦫㣵
䛝䌶䢬
㣵㠠䦫䚳䌶㾌㭖㾕
䦫㾕䂞
䤝䛝㬜㬜㣵
䛝䚳䬂䢬䢬䄙㾕䄙
䚳䢘䛝
䧸䤝 䅣䚳㾕㣵 䂞䛝䦫 䂞䚳䢘 䚳䌶䌶䚳㠠䓴㾌㾕㭖㣵 㠠䦫䤝㬜䄙㾕’䌶 䛝䢬㬜㯸 䳂䤝䌶 䌶䤝䬂㾕 䌶䦫 㬜䦫䦫䓴㣵 䊁䤝䢘䌶 㾌㾕 䌶㾌䢞䢬 䌶䦫 䢘䢬㢬 䌶䛝㾌䢘 䢞䚳㭖㾕㾌䄞㾌㠠䢬㾕䌶 䢘㠠䢬㾕䢬㴐
䳮㾕䢬 䢘䌶䬂㾌䓴䢬㣵 䌶䛝䢬 䄞㬜䢬䢬䌶 䄙䢬䌶䚳㠠䛝䢞䢬㾕䌶 䂞㾌䌶䛝 㱧㡓䋓䋓 䂞䚳䬂䢘䛝㾌㯸䢘㴐㴐㴐
䎾㬜㥫䚳㾕㾌㾌㾕䌶䢬䛝䄙
“䅣䚳䌶 㜥䬂䦫䌶䛝䢬䬂㴐㴐㴐 䜋䦫䤝 䚳䬂䢬 㾌㾕㠠䬂䢬䄙㾌䳂㬜䢬㴐” 㳕䛝㾌䌶䢬 㘰䚳㾌䬂’䢘 㾌㾕㠠䬂䢬䄙䤝㬜䦫䤝䢘 䚳䄙䢞㾌䬂䚳䌶㾌䦫㾕 䬂䚳㾕㭖 䦫䤝䌶㣵 㭖䚳䃶㾌㾕㭖 䂞㾌䌶䛝 䬂䢬䢘㯸䢬㠠䌶 䚳䌶 䌶䛝䢬 䚳䢞䳂䢬䬂䠤㠠䦫㬜䦫䬂䢬䄙 䢘㯸䛝䢬䬂䢬 䌶䛝䚳䌶 䛝䚳䄙 䢘䛝䬂䤝㾕䓴 䳂䚳㠠䓴 䌶䦫 䚳 䄙㾌䚳䢞䢬䌶䢬䬂 䦫䄞 䚳䳂䦫䤝䌶 㡓 䢞䢬䌶䢬䬂䢘㴐
㜥䤝䌶 䌶䛝䢬 䚳㬜䬂䢬䚳䄙㸴 䄞䦫䚳䢞㾌㾕㭖 䅣䚳䌶 㜥䬂䦫䌶䛝䢬䬂 䂞䚳䢘 䄙䢬䢘䌶㾌㾕䢬䄙 㾕䦫䌶 䌶䦫 䬂䢬㯸㬜㸴 䂞㾌䌶䛝 䢬㭨㠠㾌䌶䢬䢞䢬㾕䌶㣵 䦫㾕㬜㸴 㾌㾕䌶䢬䬂䢞㾌䌶䌶䢬㾕䌶㬜㸴㴐㴐㴐
㘰”㴐㴐㴐䦫
㴐”㘰䦫㴐㴐
“䅣䚳䌶 㜥䬂䦫䌶䛝䢬䬂㣵 䂞䛝䚳䌶’䢘 䂞䬂䦫㾕㭖 䂞㾌䌶䛝 㸴䦫䤝 䄞䦫䬂 㸴䦫䤝䬂 䛝䚳䬂䄙 䂞䦫䬂䓴㴐” 㳕䛝㾌䌶䢬 㘰䚳㾌䬂’䢘 㠠䦫㾕㠠䢬䬂㾕䢬䄙 㗚䦫㾌㠠䢬 䬂䚳㾕㭖 䦫䤝䌶㴐
“㘰䦫㴐㴐㴐 㘰䦫㴐㴐㴐”
䢬䢘䌶㾌㴐㬜㾕
㬜㾌䢘㸴㾕䌶䚳䌶㾕
㬜䄞㬜䢬
䢬㳕㾌䛝䌶
㘰䬂㾌䚳
“㳐䦫䦫䄙 䳂䬂䦫䌶䛝䢬䬂㣵 䌶䛝䚳㾕䓴 㸴䦫䤝 䄞䦫䬂 㸴䦫䤝䬂 䛝䚳䬂䄙 䂞䦫䬂䓴㴐”
䎾㠠㠠䦫䢞㯸䚳㾕㾌䢬䄙 䳂㸴 䌶䛝㾌䢘 䛝䢬䚳䬂䌶䄞䢬㬜䌶 䚳㾕䄙 䢘㾌㾕㠠䢬䬂䢬 㠠䦫䢞䄞䦫䬂䌶㣵 䅣䚳䌶 㜥䬂䦫䌶䛝䢬䬂 㗚䦫䢞㾌䌶䢬䄙 䚳 㬜䚳䬂㭖䢬 䢞䦫䤝䌶䛝䄞䤝㬜 䦫䄞 䄞䦫䚳䢞 䚳㾕䄙 䛝㾌䢘 䳂䬂䚳㾌㾕 㠠䦫䢞㯸㬜䢬䌶䢬㬜㸴 㬜䦫䢘䌶 㠠䦫㾕䢘㠠㾌䦫䤝䢘㾕䢬䢘䢘㴐
㭖䛝䬂䤝䛝䌶䦫
㸴㾌㬜㾕䚳䄞㬜
䢘䛝㾌
䚳䢘䄙䢬㯸䢘
䢬䌶䛝
䚳䢬䢞䳂
䦫䛝䬂䬂䌶㜥䢬
䢬㯱䛝
䚳䢘䛝䄙㾕㣵
䬂䢬䤝㬜㠠㠠㸴䚳䚳䌶
㠠䚳䢬䧸䛝
䌶䄙䌶䢘䂞㾌䢬
䢞䦫䄞䬂
䦫䄞
㬜䌶䌶䚳䢬㾌㬜㴐䢬䄙䳂䄞
䌶䂞㾌䛝
䬂㬜䢬䢬䢞䳂䌶
䛝䢘㾌
㾕䄙䚳
䬂㧦㣵䤝㕐㸴䅣
䅣䌶䚳
䢬䛝䌶
䚳䬂䢬䢬䌶䬂䄙䢬䌶
㣵䢬㠠䢘㯸䚳
㾕䄙㾕㾌㬜䚳㭖
㾕䦫
䛝㾌䌶䢬䂞
䚳㾕䄙
㯱䛝䤝䢘㣵 䌶䛝䢬 䢞䦫䢘䌶 䄙㾌䬂䢬㠠䌶 䌶䛝䬂䢬䚳䌶 䄞䚳㠠䢬䄙 䳂㸴 䌶䛝䢬 䯋䚳䂞㾕 㜥䚳䌶䌶㬜䢬䢘䛝㾌㯸 䂞䚳䢘 䌶䛝䦫䬂䦫䤝㭖䛝㬜㸴 䢘䂞䢬㯸䌶 䚳䂞䚳㸴 䳂㸴 䅣䚳䌶 㜥䬂䦫䌶䛝䢬䬂’䢘 䢞䦫䬂䢬 䌶䛝䚳㾕 䌶䂞䢬㾕䌶㸴 䢘䢬㬜䄞䠤䄙䢬䢘䌶䬂䤝㠠䌶㾌䦫㾕䢘㴐
The formidable, imposing presence of the Divine Dragon Sect permeated the northern region. Its colossal gates, etched with ancient symbols, stood as a testament to centuries of power and prosperity. Within its hallowed grounds, cultivators honed their skills, their Qi flowing like mystical rivers through their Meridians, striving for ultimate enlightenment on the Dao.
At the heart of the sect, a figure of immense importance was in preparation. The air crackled with anticipation, reflecting the gravity of the moment.
He was on the cusp of a breakthrough, a pivotal stage in his Cultivation journey.
The anticipation was palpable, a silent testament to the arduous path he had traversed.
His Foundation Establishment was nearly complete, a crucial step before venturing into more profound realms.
A new dawn was breaking for him. The elder's words echoed in his mind, guiding his every move.
His Dantian pulsed with condensed energy.
He was ready.
The moment of transcendence was at hand.
The world seemed to hold its breath.
A surge of power coursed through him.
He felt an awakening.
A new chapter was about to unfold.
The path ahead was illuminated.
“Your dedication is commendable, and your progress has been remarkable. Today, you stand at the precipice of a new beginning. Embrace this transformation with the resolve of a true cultivator, for the Dao awaits those who dare to pursue it relentlessly,” the Elder stated, his voice resonating with wisdom and authority. “The heavens themselves seem to approve of your impending ascent to the Nascent Soul stage.”
With newfound determination, the disciple bowed respectfully, his heart brimming with gratitude for his mentor's guidance. He took a deep breath, centering his mind and focusing his will. The spiritual energy surrounding him intensified, swirling around his body like a tempest. He felt the nascent stirrings of a powerful transformation within his Dantian, a sign that his breakthrough was imminent. He knew this was the final hurdle before he could truly step into the grand arena of Cultivation prowess.
The Elder observed with a knowing smile.
His legacy would soon be etched into the annals of the sect.