Chapter Thirty-Two: Transformation

In the early morning, as the sun cast its rosy glow upon the city walls and dew clung precariously to the leaves and grass, the streets of Yancheng appeared somewhat desolate compared to the bustling noon, yet they were not devoid of pedestrians and the clamor of carriages and horses.

A young man dressed in a padded jacket hurried toward the Lu family, his head bowed. At the main gate, he veered into a concealed alley, pressing onward until he stopped before a low door—the back entrance commonly used by the Lu family's servants.

He tapped gently, and soon the gatekeeper—a matronly woman—emerged. She took the package from his hands and handed him a few copper coins before watching him leave the alley, then closed the door again.

Breakfast had just been served, and the second mistress was reclining on her chair, digesting her meal. Her trusted maid, Dongqin, entered.

"Madam, this was sent by the third young lady—"

"Even if it’s intentional, so what? We must kill them!" The paladin among the Crusaders spoke coldly. His name was Chris.

Zhang Sheng felt a warmth rise in his heart and smiled, for such considerate leaders were becoming rare these days.

The morning sunlight slanted gently, casting warm light upon one side of the wall. Half the alley was bathed in golden rays, while the willow trees by the river let their catkins be swept in by the spring breeze.

Xiao Yan strode in with an elegant gait, his hands emerging from behind his back as if performing a trick, revealing a bouquet of fragrant fresh flowers.

Everything was arranged in order, which made things easier for Lin Tianxu, who began to sweep through earnestly. Outside, spirit stones were paired and sorted, mostly of middle and upper grade, while the finest ones were already in Lin Tianxu's pocket.

The instant his wrist was seized, his palm twisted peculiarly, and the tips of his fingers suddenly revealed dark bone spikes, which pierced out fiercely with a dim purple glow, striking at Lin Tianxu's right hand.

A thunderous crash erupted. The monster had not yet reached Xu Qingyun's side when pain wracked its body, its shell shattered in several places, and it was hurled uncontrollably into the air, crashing down onto the desert.

As time passed, Zhang Sheng gradually came to understand Zhuohua’s temperament. Thus, her actions now no longer surprised him.

He let out a long sigh. It seemed his wish for a peaceful life was nothing more than a distant dream.

One afternoon, when matters had reached a stalemate, Xiao Yang entered a cinema on Sake Avenue.

Though said to be large in number, it never exceeded ten thousand; the soldiers were only a few thousand. Ironically, in the early days, Western nations raced across the world claiming territories, and many colonial outposts had barely a few hundred people, yet they seized land as vast as entire provinces in the Ming Empire.

From above came a cold shout, explosive as thunder on a clear day, as an aura of terrifying power surged swiftly closer.

Before the words could finish, the captain’s face turned green. He spun to flee, but Tang Shen would not let him escape. With a swift kick, he sent him sprawling to the ground. Guards rushed in, and in moments, the three of them were pinned down.

From that day onward, the Tuman tribe no longer dared to target Ji Town, and could only focus their efforts on the Liaodong region.

Charles gazed into the void, his eyes fixed upon the blue planet, deep as two pools, betraying no ripple.

The mother blackfish seemed particularly fierce. When Tang Hai pulled the rod, she insisted on snatching the carp, and Tang Hai could not lift her out. The strength was enough, but he feared the hook would come loose, and besides, the hook was lodged in the carp, not the blackfish.

Ionization, distortion—a phantom figure of blue lightning appeared before Edward’s eyes, the silhouette forming with a pair of blue eyes that seemed to pierce like X-rays, emanating an intense, penetrating gaze. Looking at the transparent figure bathed in blue light, Edward’s eyes brimmed with delight.

When writing the script, Xiao Yang knew this scene had to be filmed. Unfortunately, it was destined never to appear on the domestic big screen. Images of corpses and severed limbs would never pass censorship, so he could only convey the horror with blood trickling across the grooves of the tiles.

Although he understood that the relationship between water and fire was akin to that between light and darkness—mutually restraining—fire mages were confident they could overcome their opponents. Whether in terms of the time spent breaking through to the rank of mage or their grasp of magic, he did not believe his adversary could match him.