Chapter 9: Fierce Battle

With a command from Barrow, the ground erupted in dust and gunfire. Ten remaining pirates advanced along the path their fallen comrades had taken, marching a thousand meters forward, rifles at the ready, sweeping the ground ahead as they slowly moved on.

The landmines Han Feng had planted weren't deeply buried; under the hail of bullets and laser fire, one after another detonated. He hadn't expected to wipe out the enemy with just these mines, but only killing two was a surprise. He had not anticipated such a stark difference between this group of pirates and the previous Bally Pirate Crew in terms of combat discipline. The former were clearly trained; the latter, mere rabble.

Bang!

A pirate dropped instantly.

"Sniper!" another cried, but before his words finished, another bang rang out. The force of the sniper's bullet sent his body flying.

The remaining eight pirates immediately hit the ground, but there was nothing but low grass around them—not even a sizable rock for cover. Their reaction was correct, but it did them no good.

"He's in the attic! Focus your fire!" Barrow calmly ordered from the rear.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Pew-pew-pew!

The pirates fired at the attic atop the house, continuing to cover the ground ahead as they advanced rapidly. Their projectile rifles and laser guns blazed, bullets and beams pouring down like rain.

Han Feng remained perfectly calm. He didn't consider these bullets a threat. The attic's sniping port was small, and the enemy was still fourteen or fifteen hundred meters away. At this range, neither projectile rifles nor laser guns could inflict any real harm, especially with the reinforced steel walls surrounding him.

The pirates, lacking any cover, were doomed despite crawling along the ground. Han Feng named them one by one, each shot ringing out with deadly rhythm. On the battlefield, a sniper's mark meant the arrival of death. The scythe of the reaper was raised; it would harvest souls without fail.

He had intended to take out the leader directly, but the leader was cunning—sending his men to die while keeping himself beyond the sniper rifle's range.

At the rear, Barrow watched as his men dwindled to four, unable to sit still any longer. He returned to the ship, hefted an anti-ship laser cannon, and carried it to the battlefield with ease, his genetically engineered strength handling the hefty weapon effortlessly.

They couldn't simply use the ship to blast the damn house apart. First, any attack by the ship would quickly draw the attention of the garrison and police forces. Second, they feared injuring their mission's target—they needed her alive, not dead.

Barrow carried the laser cannon to the edge of battle, raised its barrel, aimed at the attic, and fired.

Boom!

A red orb of laser energy shot across the sky like a rainbow, dazzling and scorching. In an instant, the attic was blown to pieces.

Barrow laughed coldly, his silver hair pale beneath the lightning-streaked sky.

Though Han Feng couldn't strike at Barrow, he had kept a close eye on him while picking off pirates. When he saw what Barrow had brought from the ship, he cursed and moved as quickly as possible.

The laser orb was too fast and powerful. Though he wasn't injured, he was left covered in dust and debris. He brushed aside the rubble, coughing from the dust, then scrambled up and leapt into the first-floor living room.

The four remaining pirate underlings had advanced to within seventy or eighty meters, behind them the ground scarred by mine explosions.

They dared not unleash heavy fire on the house for fear of accidentally killing the mission target and facing brutal punishment upon their return.

Han Feng drew his laser pistol, parted the curtains, and fired two shots.

Two pirates fell instantly, their bodies scorched with gaping holes.

He moved at once; the spot he'd just stood was riddled by enemy bullets.

Barrow had already arrived, right hand gripping a drawn long blade, left holding a laser pistol. He sprinted in a curved line to the house, leapt, and crashed through a window.

As Barrow broke in, Han Feng seized the moment as the pirates outside reloaded—two more shots, two more pirates dead.

He rolled to the side; Barrow's laser blasts blew two holes in the wall.

Han Feng drew his alloy greatsword, leapt up, kicked off the wall to change direction, accelerating again.

The silver blade crashed down in fury.

"Dragon Hammer Flash!"

Barrow had no time to dodge, gripping his blade with both hands to block. The force flung him across the living room, smashing furniture and bursting through a wall.

Han Feng pressed forward, swinging his sword for a second strike.

The silver alloy blade swept upward in a gleaming arc.

"Dragon Soaring Flash!"

Barrow, dazed, had just risen to his feet before being hurled back again, his blade singing with a piercing cry.

This was far from what he'd expected.

Barrow adjusted in midair, his feet plowing grooves into the floor as he landed. He wiped blood from his mouth; that collision had caught him unprepared, the impact causing minor internal injuries.

Barrow raised his head, staring at the figure standing silently between heaven and earth.

"You've ruined my house," Han Feng said, gripping the sword with one hand, its broad blade plunged into the ground, his narrow eyes cold as ice.

"Hand over the woman inside—I know she's here," Barrow grinned, blood staining his teeth eerily.

"I'm afraid I can't," Han Feng shook his head, voice calm. "I promised to protect her. Besides, I'm rather interested in your bounty."

"Arrogant fool!" Barrow spat, charging forward and swinging his blade with all his might.

He was fast, but Han Feng was faster.

Before Barrow's blade could reach him, Han Feng left his position, stepped lightly, spun with minimal effort and distance.

Dodging the strike, he unleashed a whirlwind slash.

Tornado Flash!

Barrow, his blow failing, spun with the momentum and struck with another full-force slash.

Blade and greatsword clashed again and again, a dozen times in succession.

A brutal collision, devoid of technique.

It was a contest of pure strength.

Barrow put everything into each swing.

His sword cried in agony, blood streaming from his hands, arms trembling uncontrollably.

Han Feng, meanwhile, showed no sign of strain; every swing was effortless.

Barrow, now wavering, considered retreat. Pirates weren't trained to fight to the death. If things couldn't be won, the best tactic was to withdraw, wait for reinforcements, and regroup.

He unleashed three quick slashes, then leapt high, his muscles bulging, blade descending with tremendous force, as if to cleave the stormy clouds.

Han Feng, still unruffled, closed in and swung his sword.

At the moment of contact, Han Feng felt none of the expected resistance.

The powerful blow was merely a feint!

Feeling the force transmitted through the blade, Barrow grinned, thinking his trick had succeeded and was about to escape.

But before he could rejoice, a sudden force pulled him back—a pair of opposing forces tore at him, painfully so.

"Heavenly Dragon Flash—Secret of the Flying Sword Style!" Han Feng sneered. That last strike was the first blow of the Heavenly Dragon Flash.

Originally the lightning-fast draw technique of the Executioner, Han Feng had adapted it for his alloy greatsword.

The rapid slash carved a vacuum in front of him, dragging the retreating Barrow back into range.

Han Feng spun, harnessing centrifugal force to deliver a second strike.

Thunder rolled.

A bolt of lightning split the sky, and blood rained down from above.