The sounds of battle around Su Ming had fused together with pained screams and all sorts of other sounds, turning into a note that it felt would never change. As it rang in the air, everything repeated itself, and repeated, and repeated.
It was as if Su Ming’s insignificant self was repeating only one action in the battlefield - kill, kill, and kill again. Gradually, that fatigue grew deeper, and his mind started to fall into a daze.
And distractedness would usually end with the person getting into a life and death situation. If they died, then they would fall into eternal slumber, but if they lived, then they would receive a boost of adrenaline that would grant them a temporary burst of energy. However, that energy was the result of drawing out the strength of whatever remained of their life force… After that temporary burst of energy, the person would sink once again, this time into an even deeper state of fatigue and absentmindedness.
How many people would be able to escape from death brought on by their own lack of concentration? Perhaps they could do it once, maybe twice, but three times? Four? An infinite amount of times..? This wasn’t a battle where people were just surrounded by Shamans, they were waging war against themselves as well.
The killings continued without stopping. Blood continued collecting on the ground. It would not be an exaggeration to say that the land of the Shamans beyond Sky Mist City was filled with rivers of blood. The splashing of crimson droplets on them were like numerous pairs of aloof eyes cruelly watching everything that was unfolding before them.
He Feng had already returned to Su Ming’s side. He did not do this by himself. Instead, when Su Ming let out a sharp shout, he stirred up the Wings of the Moon, who could sense him, thus forcing He Feng to return to his side.
When he returned to Su Ming’s side, he was occupying the gigantic ferocious beast’s body from before. However, there was only half of that creature remaining. Strangely enough, it was still alive.
The battle continued. Su Ming had no idea just how many Shamans he had killed and did not know how many wounds he had sustained, neither did he know just how many times his Divine General Armor had crumbled. In fact, even Han Mountain Bell had been forced back into his body numerous times after blocking many divine abilities, and his body was now injured.
It was especially so for his chest. There was a hole there that was almost fatal, nearly piercing through him. That wound came to be when a long spear sliced through the air and struck Su Ming the moment the woman of black smoke his eldest senior brother had given him flew out and blocked another attack aimed at him.
This was a battlefield. There were too many uncontrollable factors here, too many enemies. This was not a duel where one person would face a single opponent by himself…
As the war continued, Su Ming moved through the battlefield. He had no idea where he was. He had simply seen a familiar head flying into the sky when a Shaman beheaded the person. He did not know his name, but he had seen that person before. He was a disciple from Freezing Sky Clan.
That head fell right before Su Ming. The person’s face held a hint of confusion, but also a hint of release, as if he could finally close his eyes and rest in the midst of all his fatigue.
Su Ming looked at that head and lifted his right hand swiftly to push behind him. Booming sounds and whistles came. The sounds belonged to a Shaman behind that was suddenly sent tumbling backwards, and that whistle was from Su Ming’s small virescent sword chasing the Shaman down and piercing through him.
Su Ming unclenched his left hand and ashes fell from his palm into the air; that was what remained of a stone coin.
He had already swallowed a large amount of medicine, which was the only reason why he could continue fighting. He had also spent a large amount of stone coins, allowing himself to constantly spread his divine sense around the area, which largely increased his chances of survival while also allowing his small virescent sword to stay sharp.
In this battlefield, all divine abilities paled in comparison to the swiftness and ease brought by cleanly executed kills. Su Ming would occasionally travel quickly, and sometimes slowly. When he attacked, his killing intent would spill forth. If he killed his enemy, all was well, but he also gradually learned not to linger around in a fight. If he did not manage to kill, he would immediately retreat and head off in another direction.
As he continued in his slaughter listlessly, cutting down another Shaman, his face turned pale and a wound so deep it revealed his bone appeared on his thigh. At that moment, a strange voice called out to him.
When he turned around, Su Ming’s mind was still in a slight daze, but even though his head was muddled, he still spread his divine sense on a natural instinct to protect himself. He saw a man who had just beheaded a Shaman watching him. Su Ming had seen him before. He was a disciple of Freezing Sky Clan.
That man’s eyes were also bloodshot and he was exhausted. He gave a nod at Su Ming before quickly leaving the place.
"This feels like a dream…"
Su Ming turned around. He continued moving forward, continued killing, continued sinking into deeper exhaustion. The sounds of battle ringing by his ears seemed to have become eternal, continuously echoing in the air.
He saw Shamans with different types of ferocious beasts. He also saw some people wearing masks. Those people were the same as Su Ming. They were shooting through the battlefield, and wherever they went, it would rain blood.
All the Shamans who wore masks exuded an incredibly powerful murderous aura. A normal Berserker could not hope to match up to them. In his daze, Su Ming saw some Berserkers who could fight against these masked Shamans. They also wore masks.
However, the masks these Berserkers wore were black and were completely different from the white masks the Shamans wore.
Su Ming continued with his slaughter as he moved forward in a daze. The nearly fatal wound on his chest was left behind by a long spear thrown by a masked Shaman. There was a cross shaped crack on the person’s mask. Once he threw the long spear out, he cast a cold look at Su Ming from the distance, then turned around and left.
Su Ming saw all of these things, but he was in a state of absentmindedness brought on by exhaustion. With the sounds of battle echoing in his ears indistinctly, Su Ming took a step forward and appeared before a Shaman in his early adulthood.
This was a Shaman who still looked rather young and had face covered in blood. He let out a loud roar and charged forward. When Su Ming walked by his side, he took the Shaman’s head. Blood spewed out from the body, and he dashed forward a few steps more before falling down.
Su Ming walked past him numbly and arrived beside another Shaman. When he walked by him, the man’s head was already in his grasp, but the moment his head was removed from his body, he chose to self-destruct. The booming and the force created by the explosion caused blood to flow down Su Ming’s lips, but he did not stop. He simply continued onward.
He walked, and continued walking. After shattering and regrouping multiple times, Su Ming’s Divine General Armor seemed to have also been affected by his fatigue. Its speed when it recovered started slowing down. Han Mountain Bell also started ringing after being attacked by all the scattered divine abilities that were not aimed at him.
He Feng was also gone, separated from him by the crowd. His current body, which was that of a Shaman Beast, would also cause misunderstandings among the Berserkers who had already fought till they were in a frenzy. Su Ming already had no idea where he had gone to.
If this continued, while Su Ming might be able to survive, there was a higher chance that he would walk straight into his death in his absentminded state.
This lasted till Su Ming saw a very familiar face standing in a crowd that was being flanked by dozens of Shamans far in the distance.
That face was stained with blood and filled with resolution as he continued fighting madly.
This person’s appearance made Su Ming snap out of his daze for a brief moment. He just saw with his own eyes a Shaman, who was fighting against the familiar person, coughing out a mouthful of black blood at the cost of his own life while heavily injured.
Clearly, that blood contained a destructive power that would certainly penetrate through the familiar person’s face and skull if the blood touched him!
Su Ming’s pupils shrank. His entire being seemed to have woken up from a dream at that moment, and he swiftly recovered from his daze.
The sounds of battle by his ears immediately became clear as day from its previous indistinct state, and the world before him turned unclouded and complete from its previous muddled state.
"Zi Che…" Su Ming mumbled.
He did not hesitate. The moment he woke up, he took a huge step forward. With that one step, the sounds of battle by his ears disappeared, replaced by a piercing sound of him blasting through the air. With a speed so quick it was difficult to describe, he swiftly charged forward.
Before the Shaman’s blood fell on Zi Che’s face, Su Ming had already cut through several thousands of feet and appeared right before him. The violent gust of wind that stirred up because of him almost instantly blew away the black blood. As for the heavily injured Shaman, he did not even have time to check what had happened before he felt a force, like a city wall, crashing onto him. He tumbled backwards and his body shattered due to the powerful gust of wind.
"Uncle Master!" Zi Che’s voice appeared in Su Ming’s ears.
He staggered, but continued fighting. After activating that extreme speed so many times, Su Ming’s body had reached its limit and he sunk into deep exhaustion once more. Yet he continued moving and activated that extreme speed again so that he could attack swiftly.
With Su Ming’s help, the person who was flanked by the dozens of Shamans started fighting back viciously, and as he fought, he continued retreating. After a moment, when most of the Shamans surrounding them were either dead or wounded, they broke free of the encirclement.
Up to this point, Su Ming had already coughed out blood multiple times. When he staggered, Zi Che caught him.
The rest of the Berserkers were also covered in injuries. In the midst of their fatigue, they quickly surrounded Zi Che and Su Ming to protect them inside. Then, keeping a cautious eye on their surroundings, they retreated backwards.
Zi Che’s voice sounded far away in Su Ming’s ears. He looked at the worried Zi Che and closed his eyes for a moment before reopening them, then he gave him a nod.
"Zi Che, he’s your uncle master?"
"He’s so quick. That gust he stirred up when he used that speed was as powerful as a divine ability!"
"Zi Che, what’s your uncle master’s name?!"
The Berserkers who were protecting Zi Che and Su Ming in their circle asked many questions while retreating.
"I’m Su Ming."
Su Ming took in a deep breath and no longer required Zi Che to support him. He brought out some medicine, and once he swallowed it, he started retreating with the dozen or so other Berserkers.
"We don’t even know whether we’ll be able to survive through this battle, so let’s not bother about status anymore. Brother Su, you seem a little out of sorts. Did you join this battle as a lone Shaman Hunter?"
The dozen Berserkers were very coordinated when they retreated. The group surrounding Su Ming remained entirely focused. As they withdrew, they fought against the Shamans who closed in on them. Moments later, they would quickly change places with their companions in the inner circle so that they could rest.