Chapter 28: A Battle of Amateurs

“Close in on me, and take turns activating the Golden Bell Shield!” Wei Cheng commanded in a low voice. He could not see through the tactics of these demons, so naturally, he had to proceed with caution. As for how the others coordinated, that would depend on themselves.

As he spoke, the wolf demons had already rushed forward. More than a dozen of them leaped viciously, pouncing down, but were immediately repelled by the group’s raised Golden Bell Shields. The force of the impact was such that even the weakest among them, Li Le, could withstand it with ease, let alone Wei Cheng.

But things were never so simple. As soon as the first wave of wolf demons was bounced back, the second wave of a dozen more wolf demons pounced again, followed by a third wave. Their seamless coordination was almost sickening.

After three waves of assaults, the group began to sense something was off—they could not just stand there and take hits forever!

“Fight back!” Cheng An shouted. As the fourth wave of wolf demons surged forward, everyone broke formation and launched attacks with all their might at their attackers.

But this time, they were caught off guard. The yellow glow covering the wolf demons was strikingly similar to their Golden Bell Shields; their full-force blows were absorbed by at least eighty percent, the remainder slipping away without effect.

Not only did they fail to injure the wolf demons, but their own positions were exposed, leaving them vulnerable to the next wave’s assault, which sent them stumbling in all directions.

Two of their Golden Bell Shields were nearly shattered by this.

“It’ll take a Zixia-class professional to break through!” someone shouted in frustration. Clearly, these demon scout squads were also composed with various professions in mind. They were all Mountain Movers—impressive in defense, but lacking in offense.

Most importantly, to maintain the Golden Bell Shield required much of their inner force, severely limiting their combat abilities. How could they possibly slaughter their way through while sustaining the shield?

Fortunately, the group was not as green as before. Especially Cheng An, Yu Liang, Wang Wei, and the others—calling out loudly and supporting one another—managed to stabilize their formation. The wolf demons could not break their shields, and they could not harm the wolf demons either; it became a farcical stalemate.

Wei Cheng did not move. He casually maintained his shield, neither joining the farce nor showing any interest in the wolf demons’ attacks, nor did he help those around him. He seemed like an outsider.

His gaze remained fixed hundreds of meters away, where the stag-antlered demon and three purple-skinned demons were slowly approaching, maintaining a tight, peculiar formation.

If the latter were meant to be bodyguards for the former, their round, cumbersome figures seemed rather ill-suited for the role. If the purple-skinned demons were supposed to be elites, why did they trail the antlered demon so closely, like chicks following a mother hen?

This put Wei Cheng on high alert.

In the blink of an eye, the stag-antlered demon stopped two hundred meters away. It raised the arm holding a black jar—it was clear this was the effective range for a projectile attack.

Now he understood—this was a ranged attacker.

In that instant, Wei Cheng, who had been watching intently, sprang into action. Mountain-moving inner force surged through his legs like a flood; he shot forward like a gale.

Several wolf demons lunged to intercept him, but were flung back by the overwhelming force, their own shields shattering in an instant, their bones breaking—they were dead before they hit the ground.

Although Wei Cheng was not a Zixia-class professional, his strength now was simply overwhelming.

In a flash, he had covered over a hundred meters, leaving afterimages where he had stood; his speed rivaled even the Swift Swallow at four cycles.

His strategy was simple: capture the leader first.

However, the stag-antlered demon was no easy foe. Seeing Wei Cheng accelerate towards it, it did not panic—instead, it rapidly retreated, widening the gap, while emitting a low, guttural roar, like some kind of incantation.

In an instant, the flames inside the black jar came alive, transforming into spears of fire that shot toward Wei Cheng, adjusting their trajectory in midair to chase him.

Wei Cheng tried several evasive maneuvers, but none worked—he was struck head-on.

A series of explosions erupted—the power of those black fire spears was immense. It felt as though he were being hit repeatedly by speeding cars!

His charge came to an abrupt halt, and he was blasted back more than ten meters. His Golden Bell Shield trembled violently, cracks spider-webbing across its surface, warping as if on the verge of shattering at any moment.

Such power—one fire spear could destroy the shield of a five-cycle Mountain Mover; three would leave a six-cycle Mountain Mover struggling to defend.

A true mini-boss for a Level 5 checkpoint.

Wei Cheng’s thoughts raced as he channeled his inner force, instantly restoring his nearly broken shield.

But in the next second, the stag-antlered demon let out a mighty roar and fully unleashed its power—the flames in its black jar surged and condensed into nine blazing spears!

Good heavens!

Wei Cheng was shocked at the spike in difficulty—this was more than three times harder than the Level 4 checkpoint.

Nine fire spears meant that unless a team had at least three six-cycle Mountain Movers, the consequences would be dire.

Even Wei Cheng himself had underestimated the threat this time.

The nine fire spears, blazing like nine suns, sealed off the sky, covering all possible routes of retreat, as if they could pierce illusion itself and pin down his very soul, leaving him nowhere to escape.

It was terrifying.

In an instant, cold sweat soaked through his back—the sense of death was palpable.

His soul and will were on the verge of collapse, of utter destruction.

At this critical moment, his strong mental resilience provided a sliver of hope—a final will to survive that pulled him back from this nightmare.

By now, the nine fire spears were upon him; he had no chance to dodge.

Yet, he became strangely calm.

Because he still had one last card to play: the Way of Non-Contention he had comprehended when he refined his Mountain-Moving Visualization Diagram to twenty percent.

The highest virtue is like water; water benefits all things and does not contend—thus no one can contend with it.

He had not been fully confident in this power, but in this life-and-death moment, his spirit blazed, memories flooded back, and he gained a fleeting insight.

And that was enough.

He calmly closed his eyes, letting the nine fire spears descend.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The explosive force crashed down like a mountain, shattering his Golden Bell Shield as if it were paper.

But at that very moment, a majestic mountain phantom rose behind Wei Cheng, and the roar of water sounded—a great river, born in the mountain heights, snaked its way forward.

There was no earth-shattering force, no cosmic spectacle—just the river flowing as it always did.

Spring flowers and autumn moons, summer evenings and winter snow, the eternal cycle of the seasons—nothing more.

Unnoticed, the power of the nine fire spears was dissolved by the flowing water, vanishing as if it had never been.

In the next instant, the mountain, the river, and all the illusions faded. The Golden Bell Shield reformed around him, and Wei Cheng seized the moment to continue his charge towards the stag-antlered demon.

He had played his final trump card. If he could not end the battle quickly, and let the demon unleash another nine fire spears, he would be finished.