If I, a death row inmate, am not to become a demon, am I to become a member of the Imperial Guard?

The tower gate was wide open.

Zhou Yang stood at the door, with a dense crowd behind him.

Black Steel walked over, his stance now changed. He was very humble, as if facing an insurmountable mountain.

"My lord," Kurogane spoke, his voice low, "now that you've taken over here, there's something I must tell you."

Zhou Yang turned around and looked at him.

"explain."

"North Ridge," Black Steel uttered two words, "Our original destination was the Forgotten Temple in North Ridge."

Zhou Yang raised an eyebrow. He had heard of that name before.

"Explain in detail."

Black Steel paused, as if he had made up his mind.

"The Forgotten Temple is one of the oldest ruins on this continent. Legend has it that it imprisons the guardians of the past, known as the 'Sentinels'."

"sentinel?"

"Yes." Black Steel nodded. "Not a living thing, not an inanimate object. It is the rule itself."

Zhou Yang's eyes sharpened.

"They are immune to physical attacks," Blacksteel continued. "They cannot be cut by blades, penetrate by arrows, or damaged by explosions. Only forces of equal strength or rules of the same origin can harm them."

Qin Shuang walked over and happened to hear this.

"You mean those sentinels are beings governed by rules?"

"Indeed." Black Steel looked at her. "Madam, you should be aware of the law system of this continent. No matter how high your cultivation level is, it's still only within the realm of 'force.' Rules are something else entirely."

Qin Shuang remained silent.

Zhou Yang, however, smiled.

"That sounds very powerful."

"It is strong." Blacksteel did not deny it. "We exiles have lived in this area for so long, but we have never dared to set our sights on the temple. It's not because the journey is too far, but because... no one who goes in has ever come out alive."

Zhou Yang played with the fragment of the dragon's spine in his hand.

Fragments of ethereal blue light flowed between his fingertips, reflecting off his profile.

"What if I said I had a solution?"

Black Steel was stunned.

"My lord, you..."

"A fragment of the Dragon Spine." Zhou Yang held up the dark blue piece. "This thing is a weapon of rules. I've used it to break many restrictions, barriers, and formations before. It's not 'force,' it's 'rules.'"

Black Steel's eyes slowly lit up.

"real?"

"Try it and you'll see."

Zhou Yang didn't make his statement completely, but Hei Gang could sense the confidence in his words.

It was a very strange feeling. Zhou Yang wasn't even the strongest among the exiles—any one of them had seventy or eighty years of cultivation. But Black Steel just felt that what this young man said could be trusted.

"So, sir, you mean...?"

"Let's form an alliance," Zhou Yang said directly. "You'll come with me to the Forgotten Temple. I need people to scout ahead, and you need me to break through the barriers of the rules. It's a win-win situation, how about it?"

Black Steel considered it for less than three seconds.

"it is good."

He had no reason to refuse.

Zhou Yang's methods had completely won him over. That tower door, which even Black Steel himself couldn't open, was merely a matter of a finger's strength in Zhou Yang's hands.

This kind of person is worth following.

"Gather your men," Zhou Yang ordered. "Those who want to come, come with me; those who don't, stay in the city. I won't force anyone."

Blacksteel turned and walked toward the group of exiles.

Zhou Yang then took Qin Shuang's hand and walked to a corner.

"Are you scared?" he asked.

Qin Shuang shook her head.

"I just think fate is really interesting." She looked at the exiles in the distance. "We fled all the way from Jianghuai to here, and now we actually have a group of followers."

"They're all tools," Zhou Yang said bluntly, "tools that you can use."

Qin Shuang smiled and did not refute.

"You always have such a nasty way of speaking."

"It sounds awful, but it's true." Zhou Yang squeezed her hand. "Once we get what's in the Temple of Oblivion, I'll extend your life."

Qin Shuang was stunned.

"You found out?"

"Nonsense." Zhou Yang glanced at her. "Your aura has been noticeably unstable lately when you cultivate. If you weren't expending too much energy, how could this be?"

Qin Shuang remained silent for a while.

"I can manage on my own."

"No need." Zhou Yang's tone was firm. "I said I'd protect you, and I won't let you die before me."

Qin Shuang didn't say anything more.

She simply gripped Zhou Yang's hand even tighter.

In the distance, Black Steel had already completed its mobilization.

The crowd began to converge in this direction.

More than 300 people.

This represents most of the fighting force that the Floating City can currently mobilize. They gathered in twos and threes, looking at Zhou Yang with complex expressions.

There was awe, doubt, and a glimmer of hope.

Zhou Yang walked to the front of the crowd and scanned the area.

"I don't care what you did before." His voice wasn't loud, but everyone could hear him clearly. "From now on, you're with me. I won't treat you unfairly."

"I want 70% of what's in the Temple of Oblivion. You can divide the remaining 30% among yourselves."

The crowd stirred slightly.

70%?

That's way too dark.

But no one dared to object.

Black Steel has already made his stance clear, so naturally no one else will jump out at this time to cause trouble.

Moreover, they were also very curious.

Can this young man really get through the Temple of Oblivion?

Zhou Yang doesn't need them to believe him.

All he needs is for them to catch up.

"Set off."

Zhou Yang waved his hand and led Qin Shuang towards the teleportation portal.

Black Steel followed closely behind.

More than three hundred exiles followed in a grand procession.

The portal is at the bottom of the White Tower.

When it was last activated, Zhou Yang noticed that its fluctuations were consistent with the direction of the Northern Ridge. Now it seems that this path does indeed lead to the Temple of Oblivion.

The light flickered.

The first group of people disappeared through the door.

Zhou Yang didn't rush to leave. He stood at the doorway and took one last look back at the floating city.

"Thank you for your hospitality," he said softly.

Although the city already belonged to him.

Qin Shuang glanced at him.

"What are you lamenting about?"

"It's nothing," Zhou Yang shook his head. "It's just that I feel like I'm getting richer and richer along the way."

"You've struck it rich?" Qin Shuang chuckled. "You're just greedy."

"Isn't it good to be greedy?" Zhou Yang retorted. "If I weren't greedy, I'd still be working as someone's dog in Jianghuai."

Qin Shuang remained silent.

Zhou Yang pulled her along and stepped into the teleportation portal.

The light instantly engulfed the two figures.

……

The Temple of Oblivion.

It is located at the deepest part of the North Ridge.

There lies a continuous mountain range, shrouded in mist year-round. Legend has it that this is where the ancient gods perished. The temple is built atop the highest peak, overlooking the entire continent.

But no one has ever made it there alive.

The sentries guarded all the roads leading up the mountain.

They are neither human nor beast; they are the embodiment of rules.

Physical attacks are ineffective against them.

This is a fact that everyone knows.

But Zhou Yang is different.

He has fragments of the dragon's spine.

He can access the level of rules.

Therefore, he is confident.

The portal's light shone at the foot of the mountain.

Zhou Yang and Qin Shuang were the first to appear.

Next came Blacksteel, and then the Exiles.

More than three hundred people stood in a dense mass at the foot of the mountain.

Looking up, the mountain peaks soar into the clouds.

The mist swirls among the mountains, and the outlines of ancient buildings are faintly visible.

That is the Temple of Oblivion.

"We've arrived," Kurogane said, his voice slightly strained.

Zhou Yang nodded.

"Everyone, get some rest for the night, we'll head up the mountain tomorrow."

He didn't rush forward.

When a lion hunts a rabbit, it uses its full strength.

These exiles are his current bargaining chips, and he can't afford to waste them.

After arranging the campsite, Zhou Yang led Qin Shuang to a high ground to the side.

From here you can clearly see the entire temple.

"Do you think we can succeed?" Qin Shuang asked.

Zhou Yang remained silent for a while.

"have no idea."

"But I have to go."

Qin Shuang looked at him.

Why?

Zhou Yang did not answer immediately.

He looked down at the fragment of the dragon's spine in his hand.

The blue light stood out prominently in the twilight.

"Because I have no way out," he finally said. "In this world, the strong rule. If I don't climb up, I die."

"Besides, I haven't done what I promised you."

Qin Shuang was stunned.

"What did you promise me?"

"I want you to live well," Zhou Yang said, looking at her. "Live to the end and see what lies at the end of this world."

Qin Shuang smiled.

"Then you'd better keep your word."

It's a deal.

Zhou Yang extended his hand.

Qin Shuang grasped it.

The two stood at the foot of the mountain, their fingers intertwined.

Night was falling.

The Temple of Oblivion appeared and disappeared in the mist, like a sleeping behemoth.

Tomorrow will be a tough battle.

But Zhou Yang was already prepared.

Sentinels first appear

The morning mist had not yet dissipated, and only the sound of footsteps could be heard on the mountain path.

Zhou Yang stood at the edge of the camp, watching the squad that Black Steel had selected.

Ten men, all dressed in tight-fitting clothes, with short swords at their waists. These were his most capable blades, which he would now use to scout ahead.

"Remember," Zhou Yang said, "this is just the outer perimeter. If you encounter any restrictions, retreat; don't confront them head-on."

Black Steel nodded and turned to look at the ten people.

"You heard everything? You've come back alive."

No one answered.

The ten people formed a column and walked towards the stone temple on the mountainside.

Qin Shuang approached from behind.

"You're sending them to their deaths?"

"It's just a test," Zhou Yang said calmly. "Someone has to find out what's inside first."

"Aren't you afraid of losing manpower?"

"Afraid."

His answer was very direct.

"But I'm even more afraid of moving forward blindly."

Qin Shuang remained silent for a while, then stepped aside.

The footsteps of the ten people gradually faded into the distance.

***

The mountain path wasn't paved with stone slabs; wild grass sprouted from the cracks in the rocks, making it soft and yielding when stepped on.

The leader was a short, stocky man nicknamed "One-Eyed." He only had his left eye left, and there was a scar on his right eye from when he was retaliating by attacking someone years ago.

The one-eyed man walked steadily at the front of the group.

The temple's outline grew larger and larger in the fog.

There was a row of collapsed stone pillars, standing crookedly on the ground. Further in, there was an even higher broken wall, covered with moss, making it almost impossible to see its original color.

The one-eyed man raised his hand.

The line stopped.

He gestured for two people to go around to the left, while he led the rest of the group to the front.

The stone slabs underfoot began to become neat and orderly.

The one-eyed man glanced down.

The stone slab was engraved with patterns, which had been worn away to the point of being faint traces. But he could still tell that they were some kind of runes, with a very regular pattern, as if they were deliberately arranged.

"careful."

He said something in a low voice.

No one responded.

The three people in the front row had already stepped onto the stone slab.

***

The change can happen in an instant.

First, the ground shook.

Looking down, the one-eyed man saw the stone slab beneath his feet glowing. A pale blue light emanated from the patterns, as if water were flowing beneath the slab.

Immediately afterwards, the stone pillar moved.

A broken pillar slowly rotated, revealing what was hidden behind it.

It was a stone statue.

Standing over three meters tall, the statue is entirely grayish-white with a surface covered in cracks, suggesting it has stood there for countless years. The face of the statue is blurred, with no discernible features, only a rough outline remaining.

But its body is moving.

The one-eyed man saw the stone statue's shoulders rise slowly, like a rusty machine in operation.

"retreat!"

He roared.

But it's too late.

The statue's eyes lit up.

It wasn't light, it was color. Two eerie blue flames ignited from the eye sockets. The flames were small, yet they gave off an extremely cold feeling, as if they could freeze the soul of anyone who looked into them.

The stone statue moved.

Its first step was extremely slow, its foot landing on the stone slab with a dull thud.

The one-eyed man draws his sword.

His knife was fast enough to slice across his opponent's neck. But this strike landed on the statue's chest, leaving only a white mark.

The blade chipped.

The broken pieces of iron flew out and hit a nearby stone pillar, making a crisp sound.

One-Eyed was stunned for a moment.

Although his knife wasn't some divine weapon, it was still made of refined steel and could leave a mark on ordinary stone. Yet, when he struck the stone statue, it didn't even leave a single mark?

No, there is a mark.

But the mark is disappearing at a speed visible to the naked eye.

A faint light shimmered from the cracks on the surface of the stone statue, and the lines seemed to come alive, flowing across the statue's skin.

Not right.

One-Eyed jumped back a step.

"Second one! Go!"

A person rushed out from the group.

This was an exiled man who practiced palm techniques. No one knew his name; everyone called him "Iron Palm." His palms could shatter rocks and bricks, and he had a reputation in the martial arts world.

Iron Palm rushed to the stone statue and struck out with his palm.

This palm strike carried the sound of wind and had a force of at least three or four hundred pounds.

The palm strike landed on the stone statue's chest.

A muffled thud.

And then that was it.

Iron Palm's expression changed.

His palm strike felt like hitting an invisible wall; the force of his palm dissipated a foot in front of the stone statue, without even touching its clothes.

"impossible……"

Iron Palm muttered something.

The stone statue raised its hand.

Its movements were slow, almost clumsy. But it simply stretched its hand forward without any fancy gestures.

Iron Palm tried to dodge.

But he found that he couldn't move his body.

The pressure was immense, like an entire mountain pressing down on him. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to his knees.

The stone statue's palm landed on his head.

No sound.

Iron Palm's head was like a smashed watermelon, with red and white matter splattered all over the ground.

The headless corpse lay on the ground, with a large pool of blood.

The one-eyed man's mind was empty.

He had witnessed murder, and he had killed himself. But this was the first time he had ever seen such a simple method of killing. One palm strike, just a simple palm strike, and a person was killed?

No, not a single slap.

The stone statue killed three people.

Three headless corpses lay on the ground, their eyes wide open, as if they had seen something extremely terrifying before they died.

The remaining seven people started running back.

Even the one-eyed one wanted to run away.

But his legs were shaking.

It wasn't fear, but the pressure. The pressure emanating from the stone statue felt tangible, pressing down on his chest and making it hard for him to breathe.

He wanted to move, but he couldn't.

Suddenly, someone pulled him up.

He was a young man in the team, not very old, maybe sixteen or seventeen at most. This young man had strong hands, and he pulled the one-eyed man down the mountain.

"Go! Go quickly!"

One-Eyed was dragged a few steps.

He glanced back.

The stone statue did not catch up.

It stood still, its eyes burning with blue light, and runes flowing across its body.

It was watching them leave.

But the one-eyed creature knew it wasn't unable to catch up.

It is waiting.

Waiting for the next group of people to arrive.

***

Campsite at the foot of the mountain.

Zhou Yang looked at the seven people who had run back.

They were disheveled, everyone was panting, and fear etched on their faces. One of them had bloodstains on his clothes, but it wasn't his blood.

He asked four words.

"What's inside?"

The one-eyed man's lips were trembling.

He wanted to speak, but couldn't.

Zhou Yang looked at the young exile.

"you say."

The young exile swallowed hard.

"A stone statue." His voice trembled. "It moves... We can't cut it... It can kill a person with a single blow..."

Zhou Yang remained silent for a long time.

He turned to look at the Temple of Oblivion.

The fog was dissipating, but the outline of the temple became even more blurred, and only a rough silhouette could be seen.

"Fifty years."

He suddenly spoke.

Black Steel didn't understand.

"What?"

"This stone statue has stood for at least fifty years," Zhou Yang said. "It wasn't used to kill people; it was used to guard the gate."

Black Steel frowned.

"So now we..."

"Try again tomorrow."

Zhou Yang's tone was very flat.

"I'll go myself."

Qin Shuang walked over.

"Are you crazy? We can't even scratch that thing!"

"I know."

Zhou Yang looked at her.

"So I need to see what it is."

He looked down at the fragment of the dragon's spine in his hand.

The blue light was almost blinding in the morning light.

Wall of Rules

The sky grew even darker.

The morning light was faint, yet it carried a biting chill.

Qin Shuang's words had not yet faded away.

Zhou Yang had already turned his head away.

His gaze swept over the crowd and landed on the edge of the camp.

A black dot is getting bigger.

It's a human figure.

The man ran very fast, but his movements were clumsy. He staggered, as if he were drunk. Each push off the ground seemed to use all his strength.

Kurogane's eyes narrowed.

"They're from the observation post."

His voice wasn't loud, but it drowned out all the surrounding noise.

All eyes turned to them. Some instinctively gripped their weapons tighter. The atmosphere in the camp froze instantly.

The figure finally rushed into the camp.

He fell to the ground, rolling twice before stopping. His chest heaved violently, like a broken bellows. His mouth was open, but he couldn't make a complete sound, only letting out hoarse gasps.

Dust and sweat covered his face.

Black Steel strode forward and crouched down.

"Tell me, what did you see?"

The man raised a hand and pointed to the distant valley. His fingers were trembling uncontrollably.

"The stone statue...it moved..."

His voice was hoarse and dry, like sandpaper rubbing against wood.

"Old Wang and the others...all..."

He couldn't continue.

Kurogane remained silent, placing his hand on the other person's shoulder.

Where are they?

"That's all."

The lookout uttered two words, his eyes bloodshot and filled with undisguised fear.

"It's not dead. It's... gone. A knife strike is like cutting into fog. An arrow flies past and disappears in mid-air. Old Wang's kerosene bottle went straight through... That thing doesn't care at all."

He was panting as he described the scene in fits and starts.

"It just raised its hand. And then... they were gone. Not turned to ashes, not exploded, just vanished into thin air. I was hiding behind a rock and only saw a shadow sweep across. Then they were gone."

Zhou Yang listened quietly.

He didn't look at the devastated survivor.

His gaze remained fixed on the silent stone statue in the distance.

Qin Shuang walked to his side.

"Just as you guessed," she whispered, "the gatekeeper."

Zhou Yang hummed in agreement.

"But it's more troublesome than being a goalkeeper."

Hei Gang stood up and walked up to Zhou Yang. His face was very pale, a steely blue that had been etched with countless failures and despair.

"Zhou Yang".

He addressed him by his first name.

"Now you understand? Why we're here."

Zhou Yang didn't speak, waiting for him to continue.

"That thing is called a 'Sentinel,'" Kurogane said, emphasizing each word. "An old Sentinel."

He paused for a moment, as if carefully choosing his words.

You can think of it as a rule.

"Rules?" Qin Shuang frowned.

"Yes, the rules." The usual murmur in Kurogane's eyes had vanished, replaced by a cold, detached understanding of reality. "It's neither alive nor dead. It simply exists, representing an absolute. Like 'This road is blocked.'"

He pointed to the stone statue.

"You're not attacking a physical entity. You're challenging the rules behind it. Do you think your knife can cut through the 'rules'?"

Zhou Yang finally spoke.

Therefore, the attack will fail.

"It's not that it's ineffective," Black Steel corrected. "It's that it's fundamentally negated. Your blade, your inner strength, your killing intent—the moment you get close to it, they're wiped out by the concept of 'this path is blocked.' It's like you can't grasp your own shadow."

The area around the camp was deathly silent.

Everyone heard what Black Steel said.

The previous atmosphere of anticipation vanished completely. In its place was a chilling, bone-deep feeling. They couldn't fight them. Not that they couldn't win, but they were utterly powerless to break through. This concept was more despairing than facing a peerless master.

The spear in the hand of an exile fell to the ground with a clatter.

His eyes were wide open, and his lips were trembling.

"Then... what are we still doing here? Just waiting to die?"

These words acted as a fuse.

The unrest began to spread.

"That's right! This is something we can't handle at all!"

"Blacksteel, you brought us here just to die?"

"What kind of bullshit opportunity is this! What kind of dragon spine fragment is this! I'm about to lose my life!"

Panic is contagious.

Soon, voices of doubt, complaints, and even cries of despair mingled together. The exiles were already a loosely organized group, held together only by self-interest and Blacksteel's prestige. At this moment, an overwhelming sense of crisis overwhelmed everything.

Black Steel's face was ashen, and he clenched his fists.

But he did not scold him.

He knew it was useless.

In the face of the "Sentinel," anger and courage are the cheapest things.

Zhou Yang's gaze swept over the restless crowd.

He didn't look at those contorted faces.

He was observing.

Observe their movements. How they grip their weapons and how they loosen them. How they retreat, yet dare not flee completely because of those around them.

This is the most authentic human nature.

Qin Shuang's gaze remained fixed on Zhou Yang.

She saw Zhou Yang's calmness.

That calmness didn't seem like a pretense.

Like the eye of a storm. While the surrounding area was gripped by fierce winds, his place was eerily silent.

"The attack cannot affect itself." Qin Shuang suddenly spoke, her voice cold and clear, like a bucket of ice water poured on a restless fire.

Everyone paused for a moment, then turned to look at her.

"It's not that it's negated by the rules governing its existence," she continued, her logic clear. "That's what Black Steel meant. Our previous thinking was all wrong. We were trying to use 'force' to break 'objects,' but what we were facing was a 'concept.'"

Her words silenced some of the more level-headed people who were shouting.

"So what!" some people still retorted. "How do you argue with concepts? Are you going to reason with them?"

Qin Shuang did not answer.

She looked at Zhou Yang.

She was waiting for his judgment.

The core of the entire camp had unknowingly shifted to this young man. Black Steel was the guide, but the one who truly determined the direction was Zhou Yang.

Kurogane also looked at him.

"In the past, when we encountered sentries, there was only one thing we would do."

His voice was weary.

"Run. Run with all your might. Escape its 'territory' as fast as you can, before it locks onto you. We never even considered fighting it. Because it's pointless."

His words revealed a deep-seated sense of powerlessness.

That is a truth that countless predecessors have verified with their corpses.

Zhou Yang finally moved.

He ignored the commotion of the crowd and did not respond to Blacksteel's despair.

He simply raised his hand and opened his palm.

The fragment of the dragon's spine lay there quietly.

The morning light had somehow pierced through the thin mist and shone on the fragments. The ethereal blue light did not fade with the dawn; instead, it seemed to be activated, flowing in Zhou Yang's palm as if it were alive.

The light shone on his face, half bright and half dark.

"Rule number one."

He said softly.

The sound wasn't loud, but it clearly reached Hei Gang and Qin Shuang's ears.

"That depends on whose rules they are."

He gripped the dragon spine fragment tightly.

Blue light seeped through his fingers, like a cold flame, and coiled around his hands.

The still-stirring crowd was drawn to the light emanating from his hand. The noise gradually subsided. They looked at Zhou Yang with complex expressions. There was fear, doubt, but also a hint of... anticipation that they themselves didn't even realize.

Zhou Yang lifted his foot and took a step forward.

The boots made a soft "click" sound as they stepped on the gravel.

This action is very simple.

It was like throwing a pebble into an invisible body of water.

All the ripples stopped.

Zhou Yang didn't look at anyone.

His goal has never changed from the beginning.

That silent stone statue.

That wall.

Kurogane watched his retreating figure, his lips moved, but in the end, it only turned into a sigh.

"That's insane."

Qin Shuang looked at the same back view, but there was no dissuasion in her eyes.

She simply adjusted her gloves silently, followed him, and stood beside him.

She didn't say anything.

But this action says it all.

Zhou Yang's steps did not stop.

He walked steadily, not fast, but with each step more solid than the last.

He walked step by step toward the stone statue that symbolized "rules." The commotion and fear of the exiles in the camp behind him seemed to be isolated in another world.

He wasn't going to his death.

He went to demolish the wall.

In his own way.

One finger to dispel illusion

It's very windy.

The sand swirled around my face, stinging with a fine, stinging sensation.

Zhou Yang didn't pay any attention.

He walked step by step toward the stone statue.

The sand beneath his feet was soft; each step left a deep sag, and when he pulled himself out, a clear footprint remained. He walked steadily, neither too fast nor too slow. His shadow stretched long in the morning light, like a taut string.

The commotion in the camp continued.

Cries, curses, and screams of fear filled the air. The sounds mingled together like a pot of boiling porridge. But by this point, they had become distant and indistinct.

They do not belong to Zhou Yang's world.

In Zhou Yang's world, there is now only him and the stone statue in front of him.

Qin Shuang followed behind him, keeping a distance of three steps, neither too close nor too far. She didn't speak, but simply tightened her grip on the knife. The rough texture of the sharkskin on the hilt was clearly felt through her gloves.

The touch made her feel at ease.

She watched Zhou Yang's retreating figure.

That wasn't the back a hero should have. It wasn't broad, nor was it particularly upright. It looked quite ordinary, like any other young person passing by in Anyang County.

But the way he walked had an indescribable quality to it.

That was a kind of composure.

It's a kind of composure that makes you feel like you're walking in your own backyard, even though you're clearly on the road to despair.

This composure is more calming than any grand pronouncements.

The chaotic noise behind me subsided without me even noticing.

The exiles, the desperate prisoners, also noticed the eerie silence. They stopped crying, their eyes red, and looked at the figure walking alone toward the statue, and the woman following behind him.

They didn't know what Zhou Yang was going to do.

All they knew was that the strongest man had rushed out less than ten steps before being torn to pieces by an invisible force.

Now, Zhou Yang has gone even further than that man.

Fifty meters.

Eighty meters.

One hundred meters.

Zhou Yang stopped in his tracks.

He stood still.

The distance to the stone statue was exactly one hundred meters. It was a very delicate position. It was within the statue's range of perception, yet it left itself enough room to react.

The stone statue was very tall, about ten zhang (approximately 33 meters). It was dark and heavy, as if it had been carved out of the entire mountain range. It had no facial features, its face was just a smooth piece of stone, yet one could feel an invisible gaze projecting down from that smooth surface, cold and devoid of any emotion.

It's like a tree, rooted here. And like a rule, etched onto this land.

Zhou Yang looked up at it.

The wind ruffled his temples, making his hair a little disheveled. His eyes were calm, like a deep pool of water, without a ripple.

Black Steel and several other Imperial Guards followed, stopping fifty meters away. They gripped their knives, their palms sweating. They wanted to help, but knew that rushing forward would be suicide. This sense of powerlessness made their faces flush red.

"Zhou Yang!" Black Steel couldn't help but growl, "What exactly do you want?"

Zhou Yang did not turn around.

He simply raised his right hand slowly.

This is a very simple action.

Palms facing up, fingers together.

He didn't strike any pose, nor did he use any special techniques. It was as if he simply wanted to catch a leaf falling from the sky.

Sunlight fell on his palm.

Then, a faint blue light emerged from his palm.

The light was faint, initially only the size of a pinhead. It rested quietly in his palm, like a forgotten star.

The surrounding light seemed to be absorbed by this blue light.

The air temperature seemed to have dropped a little.

Qin Shuang's pupils contracted slightly.

She recognized that glimmer of light.

Dragon spine fragment.

Zhou Yang had never used this item in front of her like this before.

That faint blue light didn't erupt violently, but rather expanded quietly. A wisp, a strand, like ink dripping into clear water, slowly and gracefully spread across his palm.

Soon, a palm-sized, irregularly shaped metal fragment floated quietly in his palm.

The surface of the fragment was covered with ancient patterns, like some kind of long-lost script. The eerie blue light emanated from the gaps in these patterns.

They are breathing.

One light, one dark.

Zhou Yang's gaze slowly moved down from the top of the stone statue's head, finally landing on the statue's raised arm.

Robust, hard, and full of powerful beauty.

The man from before was crushed by the force emanating from this arm.

Zhou Yang's expression remained unchanged.

He looked at that arm like a tailor examining a piece of rough jade.

His left hand gently supported his right wrist.

An extremely subtle movement.

Then, he moved.

His index finger lightly traced a line on the suspended fragment of the dragon's spine.

No sound.

There were no energy fluctuations either.

But that eerie blue light seemed to be activated by this stroke. A blue line, thinner than a strand of hair, extended from the tip of the fragment. It was neither a flight nor a spray.

It is "flowing".

Like a drop of mercury, it flows silently toward its target.

The blue line stretched long in the air, yet it didn't stir up a wisp of wind. It seemed to belong to another world, an existence independent of all rules.

The exiles were stunned.

Black Steel was also stunned.

They didn't feel anything.

There was no murderous intent, no oppressive aura. The blue line looked fragile, as if a gust of wind could break it. They couldn't understand the meaning behind Zhou Yang's strange action.

Qin Shuang stared intently at the blue line.

Her heart was beating very fast for some reason. She instinctively felt that the thing was dangerous.

A danger that transcends the realm of understanding.

The slender blue line, spanning a hundred meters, silently touched the statue's thick arm.

There was no loud noise as expected.

There was no explosion.

There wasn't even a "plop" sound like a stone falling into water.

There was no sound at all.

The blue line, like an embroidery needle, gently and tenderly traced across the statue's arm.

A moment that is almost invisible to the naked eye.

The blue line disappeared.

As if it had completed its mission, it evaporated into thin air and disappeared.

Everything returned to normal.

The stone statue remains the same, standing silently.

Zhou Yang was still the same Zhou Yang, holding the fragment in his palm, motionless.

The wind is still blowing.

The sand is still flying.

What just happened?

It's as if nothing happened.

Blacksteel was completely bewildered. He glanced back at the exiles behind him and found that they all looked equally confused.

Failed?

Or was that action completely useless?

Just when everyone thought this absurd scene was about to end, something unexpected happened.

On the statue's arm.

A scratch appeared where the thin blue line had grazed.

A very fine, very faint engraving.

You wouldn't notice it at all unless you looked closely.

Immediately afterwards, a faint blue light shone from the engraving.

The light emanating from the fragment of the dragon spine in Zhou Yang's palm was exactly the same.

The blue light flickered for a moment.

It's like a computer program displaying garbled characters.

The sentry's movements paused for a moment.

Its arm, which had been moving slowly, stopped.

A slight ripple seemed to appear on that smooth face.

Then, something even stranger happened.

Centered on the glowing mark, a small area of ​​stone on the statue's arm began to show slight "collapse".

That's not shattering.

That is... decomposition.

A small stone, in an instant, lost its "stone" form, breaking into countless tiny particles invisible to the naked eye, which floated in the air.

But this process lasted less than half a breath.

The next moment, those scattered particles seemed to be drawn back by some force, quickly receding and recombining.

In the blink of an eye, that small area returned to its original state.

Hard, cold, and indistinguishable from its surroundings.

It was as if everything that had just happened was just an illusion.

Only that extremely fine engraving, and the fleeting glimpse of a pale blue light within it, proved that everything that had just happened was real.

Zhou Yang slowly withdrew his hand.

The light on the dragon spine fragment slowly faded, returning it to its original, unremarkable state as metal. He casually tucked it into his pocket, as if he had done something insignificant.

He turned his head and glanced at Black Steel behind him.

Black Steel's mouth was agape, his eyes wide like copper bells, and his face was filled with disbelief.

Zhou Yang's lips curled up slightly.

That wasn't a big laugh.

It's just a very shallow arc.

With a sense of understanding, a sense of satisfaction, and a touch of amusement.

He found it.

In the most direct way, I verified my conjecture.

This stone statue, the so-called "sentinel," relies not on brute force or internal strength, but on something deeper.

It is "rules".

It's like a pre-programmed program, executing the "no entry" command within this area. Any "variable" attempting to intrude will be cleared by it.

The man from before triggered the cleanup mechanism.

Now, he has made a small attempt using the fragments of the dragon's spine.

He did not attack the statue's "body".

He merely used the power of the fragments to draw a tiny "bug" on its "program" code.

A bug that can cause it to freeze briefly.

This bug is tiny, almost negligible. But it proves that these so-called "rules" are not foolproof.

It can be interfered with.

It can be modified.

It can even be destroyed.

Zhou Yang looked at the stone statue that had returned to silence, his eyes no longer holding the scrutinizing look they had before.

Instead, there is a hunter's sharpness that sees through the prey's disguise.

Walls are not meant to be rammed into.

It's for prying open.

And he had just found the perfect fulcrum.

Killing chickens and monkeys

A faint grinding sound came from the joints of the stone statue.

It returned to silence, like a truly inanimate object.

Zhou Yang looked at it, his eyes showing no excitement, only an almost icy calm.

Like a blacksmith who finally found the crack in the steel billet.

He knew where to start.

He turned around.

Footsteps crunched softly on the gravel.

Everyone in the camp had their eyes glued to him, like countless invisible threads.

The exiles' eyes held fear, curiosity, and a barely perceptible hint of mockery. To them, the standoff was meaningless. A madman leading a group of even madmen to ram their heads against a wall.

Zhou Yang didn't look at them.

His gaze fell on Black Steel.

"Send another team."

Zhou Yang's voice was flat, revealing no emotion.

"The enemy has been lured here."

Hei Gang's brows furrowed into a knot. He looked at Zhou Yang, his lips moving as if he wanted to ask something.

Luring the enemy? Or sending more people to their deaths?

The group that just went there didn't even touch the hem of the stone statue's robe before being swept to pieces by that invisible sword energy. What difference would it make if another group were sent?

Black Steel's doubts were written all over his face.

But he saw Zhou Yang's eyes.

There was no warmth in those eyes.

Black Steel felt a sudden chill. All the questions stuck in his throat, turning into a dry syllable.

"Yes."

He didn't ask another question.

He turned and strode towards the crowd. There, a group of exiles who had just survived were still trembling. Black Steel casually pointed to ten people.

The faces of those ten people turned pale instantly.

"You, come with me."

Black Steel's voice was devoid of any emotion.

No one dared to resist. In the face of absolute force, fear is the best whip.

Qin Shuang stood beside Zhou Yang the whole time. She watched Hei Gang lead the group away, and then looked at Zhou Yang again.

"I need it to be within my attack range."

Zhou Yang stretched out his finger and gently drew a line on the ground.

"Exactly accurate."

He was referring to "it," not the stone statue.

In Zhou Yang's plan, this thing was no longer a statue. It was a moving target, a program, a rule that could be broken.

Qin Shuang looked in the direction Zhou Yang was pointing.

That line was about thirty paces from where they were standing. That was precisely the edge of the area swept by the stone statue's sword energy. One step closer, and the sword energy would touch them. One step further, and Zhou Yang's attack might miss its mark.

This is a distance of a knife's edge.

She didn't say anything.

He simply and silently took the black crossbow from his waist.

"Click".

The crisp sound of the spring being pulled open was particularly clear in the silent air.

"Cover up the perimeter," Qin Shuang said. "Take care of the small fish that got away."

Her role is clearly defined. She doesn't participate in core combat, but she handles all unexpected situations.

Like a most reliable partner, it will always fill in the blind spots in your field of vision.

A commotion arose among the group of exiles behind Zhou Yang.

They were whispering to each other, their voices low, like a group of startled wood mice.

"He's gone mad... that centurion has completely lost his mind..."

"You're sending more people to their deaths? Those people were right next to us just now!"

"Why should we listen to him? We can't stay here at all, and that thing is impossible to kill!"

"Are we just waiting to die? We might as well charge out; maybe there's still a chance to survive!"

Despair spread like a plague.

Zhou Yang heard it.

He didn't turn around.

He simply spoke coldly to the person behind him.

The sound wasn't loud, but it was like an icicle, instantly piercing through all the noise.

"Open your eyes and look carefully."

The commotion abruptly ceased.

Everyone fell silent and froze.

Dozens of eyes converged on Zhou Yang's back. His back wasn't particularly imposing, but it felt like a mountain, making them feel suffocated.

Zhou Yang slowly turned to the side, his gaze like a knife, scraping across everyone's face.

"From now on, this is how you deal with sentries."

He pointed to the silent stone statue in the distance.

The tone left no room for argument.

Those exiles who had been complaining just moments before now looked like chickens with their necks being choked. They stared at Zhou Yang, their eyes filled with a mixture of awe and fear.

They didn't understand what Zhou Yang was going to do.

But they understood one thing.

This person is not like them.

He dared to face death and manipulate it at will.

Soon, Black Steel returned with the ten men.

Their steps were unsteady, their faces ashen. They were pushed to the front of the line, just a few steps away from Zhou Yang. They could clearly feel the chilling aura emanating from him, a chilling presence that kept strangers at bay.

"Go."

Zhou Yang's voice sounded like a final judgment.

The ten men trembled and looked at Black Steel for help.

Kurogane remained expressionless, only making a "please" gesture.

There is no escape route.

Ten people, supporting each other, moved slowly and deliberately towards the stone statue. Their legs trembled like leaves, and each step felt like walking on cotton.

The air freezes.

Everyone held their breath.

Zhou Yang stood motionless. His left hand hung at his side, his index finger gently stroking the edge of the dragon spine fragment.

A faint chill emanated from the shattered bone, like a cold snake coiling around his fingertips.

Qin Shuang stood a little distance away, her body slightly bent, her short crossbow held steadily in her hand. Her gaze was already locked on the ten decoys and the stone statues further away. If any exile tried to escape to either side, her crossbow bolt would pierce their throat instantly.

Thirty steps.

Twenty steps.

Ten steps.

The ten people had already reached the stone statue.

They stopped, like a group of puppets nailed to the ground, forgetting even to breathe.

The stone statue remained unresponsive.

It simply stood there quietly, as if mocking the timidity of the ants.

Time passed second by second.

One of the exiles could no longer bear the silent pressure. He screamed and turned to run back.

"roar!"

The instant he turned around, a red light suddenly shone from the empty eye sockets of the stone statue!

The sound was unlike the roar of any wild beast; it was more like the resonance of metal rubbing together and rock fracturing.

It was somber, yet powerful enough to shake one's soul!

"They're here!"

Someone shouted in terror.

The stone statue moved.

It neither walks nor runs.

Its body slid forward in a bizarre posture. Its feet didn't leave the ground, yet the entire statue moved horizontally at an astonishing speed!

A visible grayish-white shockwave suddenly spread forward from its center!

That was its sword energy!

"what!"

The exile running at the front didn't even get a chance to scream. The instant his body came into contact with the shockwave, it was sliced ​​cleanly in half, as if made of paper. The cut was as smooth as a mirror, without a trace of blood, because his entire body had been instantly vaporized into powder by that domineering and unparalleled force!

The other nine people didn't even have time to react before they were hit by the aftershocks of the sword energy.

Blood and flesh flew everywhere.

Limbs and severed arms scattered and flew in all directions like fallen leaves blown by a strong wind.

In the blink of an eye.

Ten men, all wiped out.

The stone statue did not pause at all.

Its gliding trajectory was incredibly precise.

They came specifically to find Zhou Yang and his group!

A collective gasp filled the camp.

The exiles were so frightened that they retreated repeatedly, wishing they could turn around and run for their lives immediately. But they found that their legs simply wouldn't obey them.

Fear has gripped their souls.

Zhou Yang stood still, motionless.

His eyes were fixed on the gliding stone statue.

He was calculating.

Calculate its speed, calculate the intervals between its sword strikes, and calculate the trajectory of its next attack.

More importantly, it's about calculating when that "bug" will be triggered.

Its joints experience a momentary lag when moving.

In that moment of stillness, its core will reveal a barely perceptible opening.

That was Zhou Yang's attack point.

Thirty steps.

Twenty-five steps.

Twenty steps.

The stone statue is getting closer.

That chilling killing intent was already overwhelming, making one's clothes flutter in the wind.

Qin Shuang's fingers were already on the crossbow.

Her gaze was sharp as an eagle's, ready to fire at any moment.

But Zhou Yang did not give the order.

She then remained still.

She trusted Zhou Yang's judgment.

Fifteen steps.

Ten steps.

They were only one step away from the line Zhou Yang had drawn on the ground.

It's now!

Zhou Yang's body moved.

Instead of retreating, he took a step forward.

He stepped right on that line.

His right hand had somehow found itself gripping the rough iron knife.

The blade was rusted and looked like a lump of scrap metal.

But in his hands, this lump of scrap metal exuded an unprecedented sharpness.

He did not swing his knife.

He simply thrust the iron knife straight forward.

The movements were ridiculously simple.

It's like a beginner martial arts student practicing the most basic thrusting techniques.

There were no fancy moves, no earth-shattering momentum.

Only speed matters.

It's almost at its limit!

Just before the stone statue was about to unleash its sword energy again, Zhou Yang's blade tip precisely struck an inconspicuous groove behind its left knee.

That was the spot where the dragon spine fragment had flashed with blue light during his first attempt to probe.

That's where the "bug" in the rules lies.

"Ding!"

A crisp metallic clang.

The sound wasn't loud, but it was unusually jarring.

Zhou Yang's knife tip was like a key inserted into a lock.

The stone statue's body, which had been gliding so smoothly, suddenly jolted!

It's like a horse-drawn carriage traveling at high speed, whose wheels suddenly get stuck in a crack in the rocks.

The entire enormous body instantly lost its balance due to this one point of "stuttering".

Its forward momentum became even more violent. The waving arms, due to the imbalance of power, also deviated from their original trajectory.

A grayish-white sword aura flew past Zhou Yang's ear.

They cut off a few strands of his hair.

Zhou Yang remained motionless.

The tip of his knife was still touching that groove.

A chilling internal force flowed continuously into the stone statue's body along the tip of the blade.

"Click...click..."

A sickening cracking sound came from inside the stone statue.

The mechanisms within its body, the intricate structures that maintain its "rules" of operation, began to crumble and shatter inch by inch under Zhou Yang's targeted power.

Red light flashed wildly from its empty eye sockets, like a candle flame about to go out, flickering on and off.

It was still struggling, its huge arms flailing wildly.

But its attack had completely lost its accuracy.

Qin Shuang moved.

She seized the opportunity and raised her crossbow.

"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!"

Three crossbow bolts, arranged in a triangular pattern, accurately struck the gaps in several other joints of the stone statue.

These gaps were something Zhou Yang had already told her about during his previous probing.

Each crossbow bolt was like a nail, firmly pinning down the statue's remaining ability to move.

The statue's movements came to a complete halt.

It stood there stiffly, leaning forward, in front of Zhou Yang, motionless.

Like a monster whose pause button has been pressed.

Zhou Yang put away the iron knife.

He stared at the stone statue before him, his eyes remaining unmoved.

He turned around and looked at the exiles behind him who were completely stunned.

Their mouths were agape, wide enough to fit an egg, and the expressions on their faces were pure, indescribable shock.

What just happened?

They didn't understand.

All they saw was that invincible, terrifying sentinel, capable of killing ten people in a single move, rushing towards the man.

Then, the man just casually stabbed him once.

The sentry just... stopped moving?

Like a paper doll that has been punctured.

Zhou Yang's gaze swept over them.

"Who else thinks it can't be killed?"

His voice was soft, yet it struck everyone's heart like a heavy hammer.

There was a deathly silence in the crowd.

No one dared to speak.

No one even dared to breathe loudly.

They looked at Zhou Yang as if he were a god or a devil.

Zhou Yang ignored them.

He walked to the stiff stone statue, raised his foot, and kicked it hard in the chest.

"Boom!"

A loud bang.

The once-arrogant stone sentinel fell backward, crashing heavily to the ground and shattering into stones of varying sizes.

Dust flew everywhere.

Zhou Yang stood amidst the mess, patting the dust off his hands.

He looked at the exiles and spoke, word by word.

"Remember what just happened."

"This is how you survive."

Offering of bait

Zhou Yang's words fell into the camp.

Dead silence.

Everyone was looking at him.

His eyes held awe, fear, and a hint of bewilderment at seeing a madman.

Would you trade your life for an invisible and intangible "method"?

That's too extravagant.

Zhou Yang ignored those stares.

He turned to Black Steel.

"The second squad."

He only said four words.

Kurogane opened his mouth, but ultimately didn't ask why.

He simply nodded, then turned and left.

The selection process was completed quickly.

There are still ten people.

This time, there wasn't a single familiar face in the group.

They were all left over from the previous round of screening.

Their eyes were unfocused.

There is a yearning for new life, a fear of death, but more than anything, there is a ruthless determination born from being driven to the brink.

Know your own worth.

Know what you want to do.

"remember."

Zhou Yang walked to the front of the line.

His voice was flat.

"You're not going to risk your lives. You're going to bring things back. Bring them back to that breach."

He gestured with his chin towards the entrance of the canyon in the distance.

"The more people die, the closer it follows. Don't run too fast, and don't run too slow."

He paused.

"Whoever survives will get to eat an extra piece of meat."

After saying that, he turned around and walked back to the edge of the camp, where he found a clean rock to sit down.

Qin Shuang stood not far behind him.

She held the sword, like a statue.

The second team set off.

There were no farewells, no slogans.

Ten people walked silently into the gray-yellow wilderness.

Their figures were quickly blurred by the wind and sand.

……

The edge of the canyon.

Another stone sentinel stood there silently.

It's exactly the same as the previous one.

They looked as if they were carved from the same mold.

The squad stopped three hundred paces away from the sentry.

The one-eyed leader made a gesture.

Two team members carried a heavy wooden box forward.

The box was filled with poisoned caltrops.

This is their only means of long-range attack.

"Let's do it!"

The one-eyed dragon let out a low growl.

The lid of the box was suddenly flung open.

The two team members used all their strength to throw the barbed wire from the box toward the sentry.

Hundreds of sharp caltrops streaked through the air, creating a dark cloud, and clattered as they struck the stone statue.

No harm was caused.

Like raindrops hitting the eaves.

But that was enough noise.

"Click—"

The familiar sound of rocks rubbing together rang out.

The two red lights in the eyes of the stone sentinel turned from dark to bright.

It came to life.

"Withdraw! Proceed as planned!"

The one-eyed dragon roared until he was hoarse.

The ten-man squad turned and ran.

Their route was pre-planned.

It wasn't a straight line, but rather a journey through an area filled with strangely shaped rocks.

The terrain here is complex, with large rocks that can be used as cover.

"It moved! Quick!"

One of the team members glanced back, his voice trembling.

The sentry took a step.

Every step it took was incredibly heavy.

The ground trembled slightly as my foot landed.

It is not fast, but each step covers a great distance.

The distance of three hundred steps was halved in the blink of an eye.

"To the left, behind the rock! Draw its attention!"

The one-eyed man ran while giving instructions.

A burly man dodged behind a boulder.

He pulled a short spear from his pocket and threw it with all his might.

The short spear whistled through the air and pierced the sentry's chest.

It broke with a "clang".

Wood chips flew everywhere.

The sentry paused for a moment.

Its head turned toward the boulder.

Red light lock.

"roar!"

It didn't roar, but only let out a dull thud from its throat.

Then, it raised its arm.

The petrified five fingers were clenched together, like a battering ram.

"boom!"

The boulder turned to dust in an instant.

The burly man didn't even have time to scream before he was slammed into the ground.

All that remained was a pool of blurred flesh and blood.

"Go! Don't look back!"

The one-eyed man's eyes turned red.

This is his brother.

But he can't stop.

He must take this to the designated location.

The team continued navigating among the rocks.

Two more people were assigned to provide cover.

They harassed the sentries from different angles, using bows and arrows and stones.

These attacks were like flies to the sentries.

But they successfully drew the sentries' anger.

The sentry's attacks were precise and deadly.

It never attacks stones.

It only attacks people hiding behind rocks.

One person raised a shield in front of him.

The sentry's fist pierced straight through the shield, smashing through his chest as well.

Another person attempted to use the terrain to jump off the two-meter-high cliff.

The sentry's arm swept across like a whip.

In mid-air, the man was severed at the waist.

Blood mist filled the air.

People are constantly dying.

Every minute and every second, lives are lost.

The number of people in the team is decreasing rapidly.

Ten people.

Eight.

Six.

Five people.

The remaining five people finally broke out of the rocky forest.

They could already see the entrance to the canyon.

That's the end.

It is also the center of the trap.

"Hurry! There's only one more stretch of road left!"

The one-eyed man roared.

A broken stone finger was stuck in his back, and blood stained half of his body.

But he ran faster than anyone else.

He saw Zhou Yang.

I saw the man sitting on the rock, as if watching a play.

An indescribable anger and humiliation welled up within him.

What they risked their lives for seemed to be nothing more than a performance in the eyes of the other party.

But the instinct to survive overcame everything.

He gave it his all.

"Come here! You damn rock!"

The one-eyed man turned around and issued a final provocation to the relentless sentry.

He threw away the knife in his hand and picked up the spear that his comrade had dropped on the ground.

Come on!

He roared and, with his last ounce of strength, hurled the spear.

This time, the spear pierced the sentry's eye socket.

Although it only went in an inch.

But that's enough.

The sentry's movements came to a complete halt.

It seems to be dealing with this "glitch".

Seizing this precious second, the one-eyed dragon turned and charged into the canyon.

Just as he was about to rush into the entrance, a hand slapped him from behind.

He didn't hide.

He just fell forward.

He used his body to push the last surviving young team member inside.

"Bang."

The one-eyed man's body, resembling a tattered sack, was slapped to the ground.

The sound of bone cracking was so crisp it made your teeth ache.

He took one last look in the direction of the canyon.

It's safe there.

Then, his consciousness went dark.

Canyon entrance.

Only the last young player remained.

He collapsed to the ground, trembling all over. He looked at the one-eyed man lying on the ground, his mouth agape, but he couldn't cry.

At this point, the second squad was completely wiped out.

They used the lives of ten men to successfully bring the prey to the hunter.

The sentry pulled the spear from its eye socket.

Its head turned, and a red light swept across its surroundings.

It ignored the fresh corpses on the ground, and it ignored the survivor who was slumped on the ground.

In its perception system, these have all lost their threat level.

A stronger "signal source" has emerged.

It has identified Zhou Yang.

The man who had been sitting there calmly from the very beginning.

In its judgment, this man is the root of all the abnormalities.

is the core.

It is the highest threat that must be eliminated as a priority.

"Buzz—"

A deep resonance emanated from the sentry's body.

It no longer pays attention to anyone.

It lifted its foot and took its first step towards Zhou Yang.

This step is very important.

The ground cracked instantly from the point where it landed, and spiderweb-like cracks spread rapidly.

It began to accelerate.

From heaviness to running.

As its body moves at high speed, it rubs against the air, emitting a piercing shriek.

The pebbles along the way were jolted up by the force it generated, only to turn into powder before hitting the ground.

It's like an out-of-control chariot, a giant hammer falling from the sky.

There is only one target—Zhou Yang.

The surviving young team member watched all of this in despair.

He even wanted to tell Zhou Yang to run faster.

But he couldn't make a sound.

Fear gripped his throat.

The storm swept towards the man who was sitting still.

At the eye of the storm, Zhou Yang slowly stood up.

He didn't look at the oncoming killing machine.

His gaze fell on the fragment of the dragon's spine at his waist.

The fragment was slightly warm.

A familiar energy surged through his arm and into his entire body.

His expression remained unchanged.

He still had that indifferent, even somewhat lazy, demeanor.

It was as if what rushed toward him was not a monster capable of tearing steel apart.

It was just a gentle, insignificant breeze.

The sentry's figure rapidly magnified in his eyes.

The cold, stone fist was already raised.

It is about to fall with world-destroying power.