Cease fire! They're allies!

As Black Karyss hacked in, the tanks in the square suddenly began spinning their turrets uncontrollably, firing wildly in all directions.

“Damn it! Cease fire! You're hitting your own men!”

The disciples of the School of Confucianism were thrown into chaos, scattering in all directions. Some tried to climb into the tanks’ control rooms to switch to manual operation, only to be flung away by the frenzied spin of the barrels.

The Midnight Headsman, having recovered from his wounds, charged in sword in hand, as ruthless as a reaper with his scythe, harvesting the heads of the Confucian disciples with brutal efficiency.

In moments, the disciples on the square were decimated. Even those who tried to teleport in for reinforcement were caught off guard, falling under their own artillery fire.

Inside the command room, Black Karyss operated the instruments with feverish intensity, her fingers tapping out a symphony on the buttons as complex as the hardest rhythm game.

“Yes~ that’s it~ just like that~ you’ve been enhanced, now go get yourself killed! Zihahahahaha! Look, they’re all being blown up by their own shells!”

On the battlefield, the Confucian disciples seemed oblivious to the fact that the command room had been taken, still following Black Karyss’s orders in combat.

“Stop shooting! I’m friendly—”

“Shit! Why did I teleport five hundred meters into the air—aaaah!”

“You installed the mines backwards—”

“I’m badly wounded! Someone help—”

The battlefield resounded with screams, as the Confucian disciples descended into a farcical bloodbath, slaughtering each other in a grotesque comedy.

To make matters worse, the Midnight Headsman lurked amidst the chaos, cutting down any who managed to escape the carnage.

At last, the disciples stationed at the rear realized something was wrong and rushed toward the command room. But as the vanguard approached, the leading disciple saw only a flash of silver light.

His vision spun, and he saw his own brain matter splatter through the air.

The rest halted in terror, only to find a long-haired woman in a fox mask blocking their way, wielding a mechanical katana.

“Fox, take care of them.” Chen Shang’s voice sounded in Chiyo Asougi’s earpiece.

“Shut up. I don’t need your orders!” Chiyo’s tone was haughty and cold as she switched off the comms.

Then she swung her blade at the Confucian disciples.

Some instantly raised their firearms and opened fire on Chiyo, while others clutched their Haoran Scrolls and began chanting incantations in low voices.

“Rat-a-tat-tat—!” Bullets rained toward Chiyo, but when they drew within three inches of her, they were deflected by a mysterious barrier, leaving only a ripple in the air.

As the heiress of the Asougi Group, Chiyo was naturally not without means of self-defense. She carried with her the group’s latest positional shield, capable of automatically intercepting any attack exceeding 300 meters per second—every bullet was blocked with ease.

As the first hail of bullets died down, the disciples finished their incantations, and their bodies began to transform under the Scrolls’ influence.

One disciple’s muscles tensed, his skin shining with a metallic gleam; another’s height shot up by half a meter, twisted bone spurs erupting from his flesh; a third’s entire body flushed red, tiny flames flickering along his arms.

Before Chiyo could react, several disciples vanished like particles and reappeared behind her.

Facing this sudden teleporting ambush, Chiyo spun and pressed a button on her katana’s hilt. Flames burst from the blade’s spine, propelling it in a whirling 360-degree slash around her.

She drove off the attackers behind, but more lunged at her. After using the Haoran Scrolls, these disciples were flushed and wild-eyed, as if dosed with a massive shot of stimulants.

“Bang—!” A fully metalized disciple threw a punch at Chiyo’s head, but she dodged nimbly, slicing at him as she moved. The blade bounced off his skin as if striking steel.

“Ugh...” Chiyo grunted, stepping back quickly. At that moment, a disciple covered in bone spurs attacked. She tried to block with her katana, but was kicked hard, slamming her into the wall behind.

“Cough, cough...” Facing these monstrous transformations, Chiyo felt herself outmatched in both strength and numbers.

No matter how skilled, she was still within human limits. These men, augmented by dark technology, were something else entirely.

“These bastards... I can’t lose!” Stubborn pride and the influence of her emperor’s mask made Chiyo grit her teeth and force herself to her feet.

The disciples encircled her, cracking their knuckles and grinning grotesquely:

“Heh heh heh~ Little lady thinks she can fight us with a toy sword~”

“She’s got a solid body though. Could make a nice specimen~”

“What a waste making her a specimen! Let’s have some fun with her first!”

Chiyo’s face turned icy as she spat, gripping her mechanical katana with both hands.

Just months ago, she had broken through the limits of her genetic lock, mastering a technique that unleashed her body’s latent potential.

By releasing her internal limiters, Chiyo could temporarily multiply her strength, though the cost was severe side effects.

Her body would begin to break down, muscles tearing as if crushed by gears, bones shattering as though fed into a hydraulic press.

Even though the Asougi Group’s medicine could heal her, the pain would be etched into her flesh forever.

“To think these bastards have pushed me this far... They really underestimated me!”

With a grinding jaw, Chiyo’s muscles tensed and compressed, pain radiating through her limbs.

Just as she steeled herself for a desperate stand, an energy round from nowhere struck one of the disciples in front, making him curse furiously:

“Who the hell attacked me—”

Before he could finish, the round exploded, metallic smoke billowing out and engulfing a ten-meter radius.

Several more energy rounds burst among the crowd, covering the entire battlefield in dense smoke.

In the haze, Chiyo coughed lightly, ready to charge in for one last fight.

“Stand down.” At that moment, someone grabbed her arm.

Chiyo turned to see Chen Shang standing behind her.

To help her escape, Chen had activated his crossbow’s smoke round feature. But just a few shots had already drained ten percent of the battery.

“I don’t need your help,” Chiyo muttered, turning away in frustration. “I can beat them myself.”

“You mean beating them by overloading your strength, trading mutual destruction, and ending up with broken limbs so I have to carry you back?” Chen asked with a smile.

“I... I don’t need you to carry me! Even if every bone in my body is broken, I’ll crawl back on my own!” Chiyo retorted stubbornly.

“Now’s not the time for tantrums.” Chen took her hand. “The star of this revenge drama has arrived.”

Following Chen’s gaze, Chiyo saw the Midnight Headsman charging up the mountain road, sword in hand, plunging into the smoky battlefield.

“Black Karyss has already neutralized the Confucianists’ heavy weapons. You bought us all the time we needed,” Chen said with a sly smile. “Now, let’s leave the stage to the true avenger.”